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Tennotober 2024
My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.
Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!
The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/
Day 7: Kalymos: Tenacity Overcomes Malady…Doesn’t It?
She’s his trusted Kavat, his loyal companion. Thus, when Kalymos falls terribly ill, she looks to him for aid.
TW:
Somewhat graphic depictions of illness (fatigue, pain, difficulty breathing, and hind-limb paralysis) in an animal, and the emotions and confusion caused by it. I want to be *incredibly* serious for a moment and make sure that y’all are staying safe while reading. If you—like myself—are an animal lover and you know that reading about an animal struggling is going to hurt you, I would advise that you take caution with this chapter. I attempt to be somewhat realistic in my writing (especially when it comes to medical events, since I’m a pre-vet student and come from a family of medical professionals), but I also acknowledge that some may not want to read that, and that’s totally fine. I will say that the story has a ‘happy’ ending, as with canon, but I understand if some of you choose to skip this chapter due to the content.
Brief, non-graphic mention of a medical procedure (blood drawing).
Implied, non-graphic death of an animal. I’m personally of the stance that Albrecht cloned Kalymos, so that’s what this warning refers to.
I also would like to add that this chapter is in Kalymos’s perspective, so she does use non-human terms for certain things (like calling the Entrati children ‘kits’, referring to Loid as Albrecht’s ‘mate’, and other such things). As such, she also doesn’t understand what’s going on, so there’s going to be a bit of confusion and fear from her when we as the audience know that Albrecht and Loid are just trying to help.
With everything out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.
She rasps out a harsh yowl, trotting to her master’s side. Her tail swishes from side to side as her eyes narrow, scrutinizing him, her sharp nose working to detect any unusual scents. Once satisfied that he hasn’t gotten into anything stupid, she tilts her head upwards. He lets out a low sound, one that Kalymos has learned to associate with amusement, and a purr rumbles through her chest as he scratches under her chin. The sudden appearance of other voices turns her attention away from him, her ear flicking as she sees two taller beings and two smaller ones. One of the taller ones—her master’s kit, if she recalls correctly—strides forward, her voice so sharp that Kalymos finds herself stepping between her master and his kin. She growls lowly, her tail-tip lashing, the metal adornments wrapped around it jingling with the movement.
“Kalymos.” Her Albrecht’s stern voice catches her attention, warning her to behave herself. Her ears flatten and she hisses, baring her teeth at the woman in front of her, but obeys her master. She stalks off, towards the smaller beings and ‘Loid’, her master’s mate. The little ones bare their teeth as she approaches, an expression that, for whatever reason, she has learned means that they’re pleased. Loid pats her head, though she ignores him—which elicits an offended huff from the human—, preferring to rub against the kits. How are they that harsh woman’s offspring, the Kavat finds herself wondering. She stiffens as the female kit grabs at her tail, mrowing harshly in protest. The small paws release her, and she curls her tail against her body protectively. Kalymos turns her attention to the older one, the male. She prefers him, he is quieter, often satisfied simply watching the Kavat.
Why does she suddenly feel so tired?
Her ear flicks as she flops herself down at the male’s side, leaning her head on his lap. Her eyes close, the sounds of her master arguing with his kin fading as she slumbers.
Days pass. Kalymos follows her master where she can, even if he scolds her for it. She sits at his side one sunrise, watching as he scribbles unintelligible symbols across a piece of paper. She finds herself panting, her jaws hanging open as if she had run laps around the large laboratory. Her chest feels tight, her breaths not relieving the strange feeling. Her Albrecht makes an odd sound, and she believes that she senses concern in his tone.
Perhaps a short nap is in order.
When she awakens, her master leads her into an odd room. She spots Loid, and confusion rises in her chest. She just wants to sleep, though she finds herself unable to move as Albrecht suddenly holds her against his chest. She feels something cold on her furless skin, then hisses sharply as her master’s mate stabs something into the base of her neck. After a few moments, they release her, and she backs away, tail lashing, ears pinned. She yowls, betrayal coursing through her mind.
Why did they do that?!
She’s always been loyal to him, why did he hurt her?
She backs herself into a corner, behind a chair, snapping at their hands as they move closer. Her master’s voice rumbles, and at once the hands stop reaching for her. She curls up, her eyes drifting shut once more.
Something’s wrong.
Her back leg feels odd when she attempts to stand on it. She yowls as a sharp pain shoots through it, and shifts her weight to her other paw. She limps out of the corner, only seeing Loid in the room. Kalymos eyes him warily, but allows him to get close. He places down a small bowl of food. She can smell that there is something strange about it, but her belly grumbles, and she favors her hunger over her suspicion. After she’s had her fill, she lays down, breaths coming in harsh pants. She lowers her head to her paws, hoping that when she awakens, she’ll feel better.
It seems that is not the case, as she attempts to stand but falls, her back legs unable to support her. She tries again, pushing herself upwards. Once again, her legs fail her, and her form thuds to the floor. Her head swivels, her eyes wide in panic, and she lets out a harsh screech.
Where is everyone?
She hears loud thuds, sees her master’s form rush into the room. She cannot bring herself to protest when he scoops her up, as she feels the weight of her hind limbs dangling uselessly in the air. She barely notices when he places her gently into a soft bed, though the warmth feels nice on her hairless skin. His voice rumbles, and she forces her head up to look at him, panic still twisting in her chest. His gaze seems worried, and she attempts to lean forward, to press her head against his knee, but her legs waver, and she sets herself back down.
The days become a blur. Kalymos doesn’t know how long she has laid in this bed, chest heaving with her uneven breaths. Her legs still won’t support her. Her master talks to her, though he busies himself with something that she cannot decipher.
She swears that she catches sight of a thin, white tail.
Her mind must be fooling her.
Her heart beats strangely as she closes her eyes. One thump too fast, another too slow. She nestles her head further against her paws, distantly hearing the gilded adornments clink against each other.
Just a bit more sleep.
She will be alright. Her master won’t let anything happen.
She doesn’t need to be afraid.
Kalymos awakens in that bed, surrounded by soft pelts. She gets to her paws—wasn’t she unable to do that before?—, stretching. She catches sight of her Albrecht, and chirps sharply. She tilts her head as a choked sound comes from him, and pads over to him, rubbing her form along his legs. He kneels, bringing his face to hers, then holds her close for a moment.
Why is he upset?
She’s alright, why is he acting as if she wasn’t?
Finally, she hears a sigh from him, and he stands. She follows him as he walks out of the room, and she catches the scents of his kin, of the sharp-tongued woman and her kits, of Loid. His kin, and hers as well. She trots beside him, though her steps get faster, and soon she is bounding towards them. She weaves between Loid’s legs, moving to press her head against each of the kits’ in turn, hearing their excited mews as she does so. She pauses at the harsh woman, gaze narrowing, tail-tip flicking almost lazily as she thinks. The Kavat steps forward, her moves purposeful as she rubs against her long limbs. She cannot stop herself from nipping at her ankle, however, satisfaction weaving through her mind as she hears an offended sound. She turns to the male kit, his gaze swirling with a look that she cannot name.
“Rrow!” She rasps loudly, proclaiming the end of her rounds, as amused sounds emerge around her. The kit pats the ground beside him, an invitation to sit, and the Kavat ponders it, though before she can seat herself, she hears the sound of something rolling across the floor. She whips around, her tail flicking in excitement as she crouches, eying the rounded, strangely colored—an oddly muted, sandy-gray—object. She pounces on it, tossing it into the air. Her master’s voice rumbles, but she doesn’t pay attention, instead entertaining herself as she bounds around, chasing the toy. The kits laugh, rolling it across the floor for her to chase.
She isn’t tired anymore.
A purr rumbles in her chest as she settles next to her master, right in front of the kits. She might be loyal to him, but they are hers too. The Kavat flicks her tail in front of herself, toying with the youngest, though her brother stops the kit from reaching out and grabbing at her.
Yes, Kalymos belong here. Wherever Albrecht is, she shall be, but they will always return here. To his kin. To her family.
#warframe#mist’s writing#tennotober 2024#warframe fanfiction#warframe spoilers#kalymos warframe#the entrati (and loid) warframe#Also on AO3 for those who prefer to read there
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The Best Solution
On cold, clear nights that bathed the world in pale blue light, Chell turned her chin up and looked at the sky.
She was not afflicted with the condition known as ‘sentimentality,’ no matter how many scorch-marked, heart-adorned metal cubes got thrown her way and left behind in fields of wheat a hundred miles away. But the ravaged surface world offered her little (save for her own freedom) and the nights were as quiet and lonely as the days, just without an excuse to fill her time by finding something to busy herself with under the light of the sun.
So, she looked upward and let her mind wander.
Every streak of a shooting star she hoped was a certain circular heap of scrap metal finally burning up in the atmosphere.
“Let go! I’m still connected. I can pull myself in.”
Of course he could. If she had given him half a chance, he would’ve pulled himself back in just fine—and let her fly off into space without a second thought if it would save his own steel.
The cold vacuum of space. When she closed her eyes, Chell could still feel it in the wind that tickled the stray hairs on the back of her neck, in the cold that stole the breath from her lungs as she gasped it. That rush of weightlessness, her eyes watering and freezing her eyelashes together, and that pit in her stomach that said, after everything she had survived, this might be it.
She stared up at the moon; a pale white beauty, once near enough for Chell to reach out and touch, now as distant as ever. A sliver in the night sky, it grinned down at her with a smile that knew the taste of her fear. An untouchable queen who would have her head, if she had her way. Chell would have called it as familiar as it was deadly, if not for one thing that nagged at her mind as she stared, lost among stars and memories alike.
This was always the point in her late-night stargazing that Chell started scratching absentmindedly at her wrist, where the phantom burn of cold metal claws still seared into her skin.
Chell never fell for any of GLaDOS’s tricks; she knew her too well. That hate was familiar, expected. Working together in Old Aperture was a surprise only for a moment; it was logical if they wanted to survive. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or “Everybody likes revenge,” as a certain someone had put it.
She trusted GLaDOS’s intelligence enough to know that she would play nice for as long as they had a shared goal, and for as long as Chell held all the power. Don’t bite the hand that holds your consciousness trapped in a potato battery, or something like that.
Chell had even been fairly confident that after they beat Wheatley (she never had any doubt that they would), as long as she kept her guard up and an eye on her, GLaDOS wouldn’t risk betraying her. The world’s most intelligent lifeform had finally learned that Chell wasn’t worth crossing—it only took two losing battles for the lesson to sink in.
GLaDOS would keep her end of the bargain as long as it was convenient to do so. That was why Chell couldn’t make sense of what happened. No matter how many times she replayed those seconds in her head, watching her own memories in slow motion as GLaDOS knocked Wheatley free of the chassis and sent him spinning into space, robbing Chell of her only anchor to Earth.
Freefall.
Could you call it falling without gravity? Spinning, flailing, her body wrenched outward, seconds away from dying in space, embarrassingly outlived by the very same moron who was responsible for this whole mess. In the second that she had to process her impending death, Chell took a small hint of satisfaction in knowing that at least she took him down with her. Sure, the lack of air wouldn’t kill him as quickly as it would her, but he was far from a self-proclaimed king of Aperture out here. He was nothing but a hunk of junk destined to get knocked around by asteroids like a pinball. At least GLaDOS had a death worth bragging about under her non-existent belt; Chell had blown her to bits in what she would humbly call ‘a spectacular fashion.’
GLaDOS. Was her last thought before unconsciousness took her going to be about GLaDOS? How apt. GLaDOS would’ve loved to hear that, not that Chell would’ve ever told her, even if she had the chance.
She wouldn’t have the chance. She wasn’t supposed to.
When Chell felt that familiar metal claw clamp around her wrist, the first thought her fading consciousness could conjure was that GLaDOS wanted to be personally responsible for flinging her out into space, maybe so she could get a good spin on the throw. The realization that GLaDOS was pulling her in, back towards Earth, to safety, was one that proved entirely too much for her oxygen-deprived brain to process. So, she passed out.
GLaDOS could have done nothing at all, and Chell would have died. If she wanted the satisfaction of doing it herself, she could have crushed her under a metal plate or thrown her in the incinerator while she was unconscious. Instead, GLaDOS saved her life, watched over her recovery until she awoke, and then … let her go with only a bit of theatrics and nothing else.
She pinned the blame on Caroline and made a big show of deleting her, neither of which Chell believed for a second. That golden eye took her in, unflinching, with the same inscrutable expression before and after the automated voice cheerfully announced Caroline’s removal. A long dead secretary Chell had never crossed paths with had nothing to do with this; there was no difference between the GLaDOS that pulled her from space and the GLaDOS who watched the elevator ascend to the surface now.
This was all her, and she was supposed to give them both a satisfying conclusion to them parting ways with weapons lowered, standing (even if one of them didn’t have legs) on equal ground. GLaDOS was supposed to make this easy by sending her off with an insult or a half-hearted threat of one last murder attempt for old times’ sake.
“Killing you is hard.”
Liar.
Killing me would have been easy if you wanted to.
Why didn’t you want to?
#portal#portal 2#chelldos#chell#glados#fanfic#surprise!#a portal fic from yours truly#this is a christmas gift for bondibee#but I figured I'd share it with the world#happy holidays!#chell thoughts time#a departure from my usual GLaDOS writings I know#but I love them both#I have a lot of thoughts about Chell as a character and her relationship with GLaDOS#obviously GLaDOS is my primary interest#and has a lot more material to work with#but don't discount Chell#there's more to work with there within the realm of possibility than you'd think#she's just not as loud (literally-she's mute) as GLaDOS#this fic is also posted on my Ao3#for those who prefer to read on there
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tagged by ko @tofumilanesa for wip wednesday! big shout out to writevember for making me feel like i can actually call any of these works in progress… your guide to my emoji code under the cut
wip!
🪻🐈⬛ - the doc title is still just. YOWLING but i am like 7/8 of the way done with omega yamo fic and hopefully salem isn’t reading this so i can just drop it over a year later with no warning <3
🫃2️⃣ - DEWEY^2 P2!!!! she is almost done (i am lying) but she is so close i can almost taste it. sorry to my pwp that grew its own feelings baby
😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜) - rip i’m not telling you about this one until it’s posted but it IS complete aside from being ao3 formatted and the eight billion edits i inevitably do right before full-sending it
☁️💧 - cloud petey fic, which exists mostly as an embarrassingly large tag on a different blog and is condensing into a narrative about as well as water at 30° N/S. the time loop fic also falls under this description
eternally in progress (short list)
🌑🐕 - tyler borzoituzzi exists… there is an index of scenes/plot points… it plays like a movie in my head…
💯❕- fantastic! ‘verse
👁️👻 - stevie brandon seeing ghosts au, which has eight different (now nine i guess but you haven't seen the mustache adam post yet) plots. sorry
just. rotating like a microwave
🍎 - because they didn’t have a pomegranate emoji, this is what i used for the fic that feels like it should be a 50k connor bedard character study hanif abdurraqib/cathal kelly thesis about legends and mythmaking in sports and eating your young. yes i know pomegranates aren’t actually pomes and apples are but it’s fine
🦈 - the one cat da fuck they doing over there meme but about the sharks just like. in general. more on this at five
tagging @colap1nto, @songsandswords, @whitenikes, @gordiemeow, @acheronist, and anybody else who wants to share!!
#i regret to inform the public (beloved mutuals who read my tags) that we have hit the doldrums re: creativity.#got SO excited because i had no prep for tomorrow and got out unreasonably early and proceeded to do nothing 🤩 zero motivation/inspiration#anyway. being a big baby. have looked at dewey^2 for too long and now hate it which makes me sad because i was on SUCH a roll solving plot#and really i just need to pick something else from my (looks at smudged hand) 10000 other documents but none of them are calling my nameeee#maybe i’ll ao3 format 🕒 -> 🕜 or maybe i’ll read wandering stars (did finish a book this morning) and then hope something strikes me#preferably very aggressively like with the force of a train? OHHHHHH YOU GUYS MAYBE I COULD MAKE SOMETHING FOR HOLY JUMPING MACKEREL FEST#because you know what DID hit me upside the head like a 2x world champ coming from behind with the steel chair WAS BERGY & JOE GUESS WHO#joey first of all did not deserve to lose those games and second of all i am SO immensely delighted i don’t know if it’s on here yet i am#so sure at least one of my beloved drw moots (beth and nik are likely culprits but all of u would) has it on here yet BUT THERE’S SO MUCH#BERGY VERY BLATANTLY CALLING JOE A NERD BC HE KNOWS ALL ABT HIS TEAMMATES &LOVES THEM!! BERGY NOT KNOWING A SINGLE FUCKIN THING ABT ANYONE!#the absolute unsurprised yet still heartbroken disbelief & disappointment of joe saying ‘he uses black tape!’ oh that’s rent-free forever#anyway.#liv in the replies#p.s. it's fic friday now don't worry about how late i am#as always ask away ask about anything in post tags y'all know i love to yap u are always welcome in the inbox or dms#i was trying to be slightly less mysterious about all of these but i am a secret-keeper sorry and also you need to live inside my brain#in order to understand half of what i'm referencing sometimes. sorry.#also there are some un-hockey fic projects i want to do but i have. so little time in my life for anything sometimes that we will make do
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cross that line ꕤ (l.h)
part two
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.
But it also had its disadvantages.
Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.
Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.
You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.
Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.
It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.
Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.
Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.
You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.
You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.
As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.
You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.
Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.
That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.
You could say that opposites attract.
Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.
It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.
As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.
You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.
Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.
As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”
He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.
“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.
Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.
You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.
It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.
You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.
The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.
One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.
You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.
“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”
Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.
He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.
“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”
You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.
You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.
“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”
You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”
You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.
It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.
For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.
Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”
A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.
“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”
You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.
Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.
Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”
“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.
But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.
“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.
He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.
For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.
Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.
You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.
“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.
“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.
“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.
You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.
He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.
Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.
“Lo—”
Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.
He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.
You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.
As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”
Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”
You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.
“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.
Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.
Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.
“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.
“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.
You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.
“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.
Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.
When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.
When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.
Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.
You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.
Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.
You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.
You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.
He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.
“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.
At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.
Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.
“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.
“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.
“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.
As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.
“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.
In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”
As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.
You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him.
But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.
So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.
“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.
You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.
“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”
Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.
Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.
He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.
“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”
“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.
“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”
Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”
His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.
“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”
“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”
Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.
As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.
After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.
Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”
You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly.
“Really?” He’d smile down at you.
“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.
You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.
“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.
“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.
“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours.
There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.
How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.
You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.
“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.
All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.
You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.
One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.
You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.
You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.
You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.
Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.
He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.
You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.
Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.
Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.
You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.
Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.
“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”
You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties.
“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin.
You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”
Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.
His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”
“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.
The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.
As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently.
You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment.
He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.
You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.
He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.
His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”
Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.
“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.
“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties.
As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.
He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.
Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.
Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”
A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.
Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.
His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.
You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.
You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”
You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.
The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble.
Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.
You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel.
Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.
“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.
Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.
Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress.
Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.
You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.
Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.
“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”
He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”
You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.”
“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers.
“That’s my girl.”
Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.
As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.
“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.
Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips.
“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”
The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.
“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit.
Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.
Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.
“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”
“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.
“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady.
Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.
“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.
He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.
“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.
You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”
“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.
“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.
“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.
“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.
“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”
Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”
“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”
Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.
“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.
Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.
“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss.
The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.
You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.
You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.
“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move.
Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.
“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.
“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps.
At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.
You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.
Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“So full…” you whined.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.
You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.
He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock.
His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.
His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You needed more.
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.
“Need more.” You whispered.
“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.
“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly.
The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.
Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.
“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.
“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.
You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.
Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.
“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”
His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.
“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”
His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.
“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”
“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”
You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”
He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum pretty girl?”
You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.
And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.
“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop.
His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.
It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.
“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth.
You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner.
“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.
“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.
“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.
Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.
Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.
thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x you#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fluff#hugh jackman#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x you#my writing
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Scent of Seduction᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Summary: Halsin finds himself captivated by Tav, the feeling is mutual, of course. Their journey is full of danger and desire. Despite Halsin's internal struggle between primal instincts and duty, their mutual attraction intensifies. When Tav is in heat, their passion ignites... and well... let's just say things get steamy.
smut with (a little bit of) fluff?
Word count: 2,900
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, heat, knotting, breeding, shameless smut
Warnings: explicit content (18+)
Author's note: today my demons won. sorry guys, but I was thinking about it for the longesttttt time
also! you can read this on ao3 if you prefer it that way ♡
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/da11dab83d7da187acf82f3b8c0be722/346241b78ad25558-a3/s540x810/cc462b743b17214656442d8c43e1c8192fcaf675.webp)
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
The first time Halsin saw you, he was in his bear form. Held captive in the dark cellar, surrounded by goblins; such lowly creatures. He was helpless and angry, but then he caught a scent of something, or rather someone's scent. Someone who surely didn’t belong there, and that person was you. His ears perked up, intrigued. His muzzle watered a little, your scent being so delicious. But he didn’t want to eat you, of course. His hunger was of a different kind, you see.
At the camp, Halsin could sense you. He felt it in his flesh when you weren’t near. His mind and body grew restless, but it wasn’t only that. When he saw you talking to Wyll or Gale, laughing with them and sharing stories, he felt those sudden pangs of something he hadn’t felt for the longest time; jealousy. He was far too old for that, or so he thought. His heart wasn’t one to stir easily, but with you...it was different. He clenched his jaw unconsciously at the thought of you being with other males. He couldn’t stand this, but he shook his head, ignoring the feeling for now, as he had different matters to attend to.
Yet, his eyes followed you with longing each time you were close.
During the Tiefling Party, it took all the strength he had to reject your rather obvious seductions. You were absolutely sweet, your cheeks flushed from wine, your eyes sparkly and playful. It was a delight to see you so happy and carefree, the hero of the night, the center of attention. You were shining, and despite having so many people to choose from, your eyes found his. Halsin's chest swelled with pride at the thought, but he had to remain composed. That's why he didn’t drink that night; a calculated move on his part, as he feared he might say something he shouldn't have. Halsin already knew he had a certain weakness towards you, and alcohol would only fuel that. In no time, he would confess his feelings for you, saying you were made for each other, that his body and soul yearned for you. He would say he wanted to protect you and love you for eternity, and when he told you that you laughed, thinking he was exaggerating, but he wasn't. It was the truth and his words towards you would be sincere. Then, if he really got carried away and his alpha brain would win over him, he would not let you go until he marked you and pushed his semen deep into your womb. Continuously.
And he knew you for only a few hours at least, and you had a world to save, and he had his duties, and you deserved more than that—you deserved to be courted, to be worshipped. Yet, when he told you to enjoy the night with someone else, deep inside he hoped you wouldn’t.
The thought of you with someone else boiled his veins with anger, but what choice did he have? As he thought about it now, he realised he would act differently that night. He would take your hands in his, kiss them gently and ask you to wait for him, but then, it was different. Maybe he was scared? Maybe he wanted to play it cool, not used to having such abrupt feelings towards someone?
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Halsin wakes up in the middle of the night, sensing your absence. With a sense of urgency, he stands up and follows your scent. You're not in your usual spot. He finds you at the lake, bathed in moonlight, your naked form illuminated against the dark water. Your slender back, cascading hair, and the gentle curve of your hips beneath the water's surface captivate him. You look divine, a sight to behold. However, Halsin quickly averts his gaze, feeling it's inappropriate to observe you in such a vulnerable state. Returning to his tent, he finds his body betraying him, his arousal evident in the half-hardness of his dick.
Oh, how he longs to draw nearer to you, grasp your waist from behind and draw you closer to his body, making you feel his growing arousal pressing against you. Showing you how much he wants you, how much he needs you. He would groan to your ear, bite your neck and take you here and there, as nature intended. But you are not his to claim, he reminds himself sternly, over and over again, resisting the urge to succumb to his primal instincts.
But that was about to change when you left the Shadow-Cursed Lands. He was finally free from responsibilities, finally free to follow his heart's desires, and you quickly noticed this sudden transformation of his. As you traveled together, Halsin seemed drawn to your side, even unconsciously. He sought to protect you from any danger, always ready to lend a hand when needed. You noticed him finding excuses to be near you, to touch you, to engage in conversation. His gaze lingered on you, his presence felt even when he walked behind you. During campfires, he sat close, his body language open and inviting, his thigh brushing yours. Though he laughed and talked with others, his eyes always found their way back to you, his attention unwavering when you spoke. It made you feel shy, this whole-hearted attention Halsin gave you, but undeniably it made you feel appreciated.
Yet, you couldn't shake the memories of your early encounters. After he helped you battling those goblins, covered in blood and exuding raw power, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He appeared strong and imposing, igniting something within you. But when you approached him with openness and willingness at the Tiefling Party, he rejected you, leaving you feeling foolish. You had hoped for mutual feelings or at least some acknowledgment, but for most of your journey, he offered only polite smiles and lukewarm courtesy. Why the sudden change now?
Don’t get me wrong, you basked in the glory of his attention, relishing in those small smiles meant only for you. But amidst the warmth of his gestures, doubts crept into your mind. Weren't you worthy of his notice before? Yet, you quickly brushed aside those thoughts, focusing instead on the present. Halsin cared for you deeply now, ensuring you were fed, rested, and shielded from the sun's harsh rays. He showered you with little gifts; wildflowers plucked from the roadside, stones with intriguing shapes and colours, and delicately carved wooden ducks. There was no mistaking his intentions; Halsin was courting you, with patience and respect. Your heart raced at the thought, eagerly anticipating his next move. You pondered what the future held, though you never could have imagined what was to come.
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
You found yourself in heat as soon as you arrived at Baldur's Gate. It was as if your body had finally released the tension accumulated during your harrowing journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. After witnessing so much death, roughly cut body parts and darkness, your body sought solace within the safety of the Elfsong Tavern, nestled behind the town walls.
Despite the late hour, neither you nor Halsin slept. Instead, you reveled in each other's company, cuddling on the sofa with the soft glow of the fire casting gentle shadows around you. Halsin held you close, his strong arms enveloping your body, and then he cupped your head, drawing you nearer for what would be your first kiss. As his lips met yours, a haze descended over your mind, and you found yourself yearning for more. You were waiting for so long.
You eagerly shifted positions, settling onto his lap, deepening the kiss with a hunger you couldn't contain. Halsin chuckled softly, his fingers pressing against the sides of your body possessively. You gasped at the sensation, feeling a sudden warmth between your legs as your pants grew damp. Panic surged through you—no, it couldn't be.
"I'm sorry, Halsin, I can't right now," you managed to say as you swiftly freed yourself from Halsin's embrace and fled to your bedroom. You needed space, distance from him until you could gather your thoughts.
His kiss and the sudden rush of emotions triggered your heat, overwhelming you with fear and confusion. You buried your face in your pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to make sense of what was happening.
Morning brought a gentle knock at your door, and you knew it was Halsin. He had been there all night, waiting patiently for you. "My love, let me in," his voice was soft, tinged with concern. When silence greeted his words, he spoke again, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, never," you replied, your heart aching at the thought that he might blame himself. "I just don't feel well," you confessed through tears, your voice muffled by the pillow.
"Whenever it is, I'm confident I can help you, my darling," his words were sincere and full of worry. You were clearly in distress, and he felt he should be at your side, not here, behind these closed doors. "Just let me in," Halsin pleaded, his forehead touching the wooden surface in resignation.
You wished he was here too. When you saw his shadow at the door, your heart ached with longing. You were scared he would think poorly of you, scared of losing control to the heat. You hadn't known each other for long, and perhaps it was too soon for him to see this side of you. But at the same time, you were devastated at the thought of being without him. Unsure of what to do, you began to cry, and when Halsin heard your sobs, he couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm going in!" he declared, his voice resolute as he forced the doors open. As soon as he entered the room, he clasped a hand over his mouth. There you lay on the bed, naked, the room dimly lit by the morning sun filtering through closed curtains. The scent of you filled the air, potent and overwhelming. Halsin thought perhaps you had second thoughts when you kissed for the first time, maybe things had moved too quickly, but he certainly wasn't expecting this.
His dick twitched. You were in heat, he realised. "Oh, Tav..." You looked so lost and uncomfortable, your body covered in sweat, your eyes watery. All he wanted to do now was to take you in his arms and never let go.
"Halsin, I feel so hot I can't breathe. Touch me, please," you said, your voice laced with need. Halsin was there in the split of a second, responding to your plea without hesitation.
He took you in his arms, placing you on his lap, and you moaned, the sound emanating from deep inside you. As your bodies touched, you couldn't understand why you had pushed him away before, when you kissed for the first time. He felt like he was made for you, and you for him. Thoughts swirled in your mind as he held you close, his hands roaming all over you, his head buried in your neck, sniffing and then licking with long strokes, revealing in your delicious scent.
You began to grind on his thighs, your pent-up arousal needing release. Desperation fuelled your movements. Halsin placed his rough, large hands on your hips, guiding and assisting your grinding motion. In seconds, you reached climax, moaning and gasping. But it wasn't enough. The heat subsided for just a brief moment. Afterwards, you were ready for more. You wanted Halsin deep inside your wet and willing pussy.
You took his hand in yours and guided him to your heated entrance. "I need you here, Halsin," you whispered urgently.
"And you will have me, my love," he assured, his voice thick with desire.
You didn’t need to tell him twice. Halsin quickly took off his clothes. And that’s how you saw his dick for the first time. It was huge, but somehow you suspected it will be. He seemed pleasantly heavy. He was already oozing pre-cum and fully erect. Ready for you.
You lay on your back as he returned to the bed, your legs parted, inviting him in. Slick all over your inner thighs and your entrance, guiding the way. He didn’t even need to finger you. You were perfectly ready. Ready as he was.
Halsin kissed you passionately, causing your body to tremble with the intensity of the sensation. Every ounce of his desire and affection towards you was conveyed in that tender gesture.
"Halsin, please…" you moaned, your hips moving eagerly, your body yearning for more. His arousal at your entrance heightened your senses, driving you to the brink of madness. With a single swift motion, he guided himself inside you, and as he entered, you felt a rush of ecstasy that illuminated your senses like stars in the night sky. A scream of pleasure escaped your lips, echoing in the room, while he grunted softly in your ear, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to maintain control. It was a challenge to remain composed when you felt so incredibly tight and warm around him. The urge to climax threatened to consume him, but he resisted, knowing that this moment was all about you. In this vulnerable state, you entrusted yourself to him, and he vowed to cherish you, to prioritise your pleasure above all else. You were his priority, and he would savour every moment with you.
As Halsin began to move, his motions were deliberate and measured, each thrust a testament to his desire to please you. One hand caressed your full breast, while the other gripped your thigh, spreading you wider to accommodate him. The sight of you, so beautiful and lewd, whimpering each time he showed his dick deep inside you, elicited a primal desire within him. Every whimper that escaped your lips drove him further, his arousal building with each thrust. He couldn’t help but look at your exquisite, smooth pussy swallowing him over and over again.
"You are so good to me," Halsin murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration, as he brushed a sticky strand of hair from your forehead before pressing a tender kiss to your skin.
As Halsin placed his thumb on your clitoris, his touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. With deft circular movements, he quickened his pace, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. In response, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, craving the feeling of his muscles against yours, yearning for the weight of his body upon you.
His hard, deliberate strokes combined with the stimulation of your clitoris pushed you over the edge once more, eliciting another powerful climax. "Yes, yes, yes," you repeated, the words tumbling from your lips as your back arched and your inner muscles clenched in pleasure.
"Good girl," Halsin praised, his voice filled with satisfaction and pride. So responsive to his touch.
At this point, Halsin felt himself teetering on the edge of control. Sensing his impending release, he quickened his pace even further, his movements growing more urgent as his knot began to form. With each thrust, his desire to breed you, to fill you with his seed, consumed his thoughts entirely. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream in pleasure beneath him.
As his movements became more erratic, more sloppy, he whispered urgently against your neck, "I need you to come for me one more time," his voice strained with desire. The sound of his groans mingled with yours, creating a symphony of pleasure as his flesh moved against yours in a passionate rhythm. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of utter pleasure being in his arms, being taken by him, feeling his knot pressing against your entrance.
As his knot fully formed, Halsin pushed it into you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from both of you. With three final, powerful thrusts, he released himself inside you, his loud moans reverberating through the room. In response, you screamed in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as you reached your third climax.
You took his knot so well, and he felt an intense rush of satisfaction as he emptied himself deep inside you. His dick, engorged and throbbing, remained buried in your tight, eager pussy, his knot ensuring that his seed would stay where it belonged. In that moment of shared bliss, you both relished the sensation of being joined so intimately, lost in the throes of passion and desire.
With Halsin lying on top of you, his weight pressing down on your smaller frame, you felt a sense of pure bliss wash over you. His presence enveloped you, providing a comforting sense of security. As he remained inside you, filling you completely, you relished the sensation of being pleasantly stretched by his size.
You never wanted him to leave your pussy, not even for a moment. The thought of his knot disappearing, signalling the end of this intimate connection, made you want to cry. But for now, he was still with you, his body pulsing with each release of his seed. You felt his warmth spreading inside you, filling your belly, and you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed by him.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
thank you so much for reading !
you can find more of my works about bg3 ♡here♡
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#bg3 headcanons#bg3#bg3 romance#bg3 imagine#bg3 scenarios#bg3 halsin#bg3 halsin imagine#daddy halsin#halsin x you#halsin x tav#halsin x reader#halsin smut#smut and fluff#bg3 smut
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Moon Boys Sleeping Headcanons
Rating: PG • Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged? • ko-fi •
Warnings: some fluffy fluff, mentions of reader, not beta read
Word count: 861
Steven:
I firmly believe that this man constantly moves in his sleep.
He’s rolling around all over the place.
One of those people that hold their arms/legs up in their sleep in the most uncomfortably looking positions.
There has been more than one occasion where you wake up and see Steven sitting up in bed, fully asleep, and you have to coax him back into lying down.
He is taking up all of the space, then hardly any.
He’s got all the covers and then none.
Side and back sleeper, for sure. Loves to be the big or little spoon when going to bed and will twist himself into the most uncomfortable positions for himself if it means you're comfy.
There is normally at least some part of him touching you, even if he is out of it.
You have woken up to him holding your hand or your arm in his sleep. Or curled up into a ball and snuggled into your side.
His feet are always warm, no matter how cold it is.
Delights in eating in bed, watching TV cuddling with you. (Will tell Marc he never eats in bed with a completely straight face.)
Once he knows about Marc and doesn’t worry so much about sleepwalking he has the ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. Literally his eyes are closed and a second later it’s lights out.
Mumbles in his sleep. It’s never actual words, just little sounds. You video him sometimes to show him in the morning.
He laughs about it for ages.
Remembers his dreams in vivid detail.
Always wakes up with messy hair, no matter how hard he tries or what material his pillow is.
Prefers to sleep in pyjamas even when it’s burning hot, because it doesn’t feel right otherwise.
Marc:
Back sleeper. Literally lays down like he’s going into his coffin, so stiff it should be uncomfortable.
However if you’re in bed with him he will snuggle up and lay all over your chest and tummy, and please play with his hair while he goes to sleep. He needs it.
Doesn’t talk in his sleep, but flinches and twitches. The movements are usually small, like a mini electric current runs through his nerves.
Pulls a face at eating in bed, will get the handheld vacuum cleaner out and hoover the sheets. “Steven, why are there crumbs here?”
“I don’t know mate, don’t ask me.”
“They're those stupid seaweed chip things you eat, you’re the only one of us that eats them.”
“First, they're crisps Marc, say it with me crisps.”
“Steven-”
“Secondly, Jake eats them too.”
“I know it was you Steven, you always eat in the bed-”
“I’m the only one who changes the bloody covers, aren’t I? I think I’ve earned it.”
“That’s not-”
“I changed the covers last week.” Jake chimes in.
“You’re right, you did mate, sorry about that.”
“No problem.” Jake gives him a mental thumbs up.
Marc is just like !!! Where is my apology for eating in the bed? !!!
However, if Marc wakes up before you he will bring you breakfast in bed and purposefully ignore Steven when he playfully calls him a hypocrite.
Sleeps in pyjamas if it’s cooler, but will also sleep naked if it’s hot.
Falls asleep quickly and doesn’t remember his dreams at all. (He prefers it that way.)
Deep, but light sleeper. Goes into a deep sleep very quickly, but is awake and alert if something sounds ‘wrong’. You once stubbed your toe on the bathroom door and let out a little yelp and he was up and by your side before you’d even realised.
Likes to put lavender and eucalyptus sprays and oils on his pillow.
Jake:
Very good at sleeping sitting up and power naps, but prefers you to be laying on top of him if you're in bed.
It makes him feel grounded to have your weight on him. If you’re happy to lay completely on him he is so content, it doesn’t matter what weight you are, he just loves wrapping his arms around you like you’re his own weighted blanket.
You buy him a weighted blanket for a gift and he wraps himself up in it constantly.
Often complains about the cold when sleeping, even when it’s hot his feet are still freezing. He has taken to always wearing socks in bed.
Which leads to a rather amusing sight in August when it is boiling hot, so he’s sleeping naked, but his feet are still covered in fluffy socks.
He calls them his ‘sexy socks’, and has pairs in a variety of colours. He prefers ones that have loud patterns and colours.
(I headcanon Jake as a kniter, so I think he would definitely make some for himself as well.)
Doesn’t usually eat in bed, but does on occasion to affectionately annoy Marc.
Remembers his dreams, and remembers Steven’s and Marc’s as well.
Likes to dramatically push you into bed, and throw himself in after.
Doesn’t move around a lot in the night, but occasionally talks.
Never wakes up first if he can help it, usually stays asleep while Marc and Steven are up.
Thank you for reading!
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Unconventional format / mixed media / meta / epistolary fic ideas:
Script format but the characters slowly break fourth wall until they grow self aware and scream to leave but the script confines them.
Mock up notes of an author's fic outline only for a "fan favourite" / "author's darling" character to gain sentience and influence the story. The character changes the outline to suit their own agenda, and their changes are marked with a different colour whereas black text means it's the author's will. Maybe another character using another colour gains sentience. The different colours fight for dominance. Mom says it's my turn with the keyboard hey what the fuck man excuse me I'm literally trying to save my family can you guys let go and let me write your character arcs in peace OH FUCK OFF
Recipe fic. The story is told via those unnecessarily long backstories on a recipe blog in which you learn about someone's grandma or a breakup or literally anything. Bonus points if the actual recipe deals with worldbuilding (what ingredients are available? What utensils are used? How to serve this meal? Woohoo Dungeon Meshi) or in-cheek recipes (eg. "Recipe for making up with your estranged mother - Step 1: Mix patience, nostalgia, and filial piety and let it marinate for ten years. Step 2: Throw that shit into the trash because you're better than that")
Travel fic. A character is lost and trying to find their way somewhere. GPS directions, googling "x place to x place", tickets and dates, train station maps, leaflets. It gets weirder and weirder. You never get closer to your destination. You're walking around in circles. It's always 10 meters away. Where are you going and where have you been?
Receipts. Try to infer what a character is doing judging from the weird things they buy together. Also yipppee inflation tracker. On the other side, maybe it can be about a cashier/ shop owner getting to know their customers and what they order.
Written from the pov of an non-native English speaker, all the English words are italicized whereas their native tongue are the only words not italicized. Inspired by Kupu rere kē by Alice Te Punga Somerville. This is because I got salty about people from Ao3 Reddit saying they won't read a fic in all italics.
Murder mystery / "Among Us" style impersonation fic strictly using the chatfic format. Characters and readers will have to figure out which character has been killed and replaced from the way they text and use emojis. This is also because I got salty about Ao3 Reddit being a wee bit pretentious about emoji usage in fics. Maybe emojis can be important plot devices! Some people prefer to sign off messages with a heart emoji of their signature colour, so won't it be weird if they use another coloured heart? How about someone using lapslock suddenly using proper capitalisation and full stops? Can you tell if someone's phone has been stolen? What if someone's mother is pretending to text like their child? Why is someone suddenly only using UwU speak? Is it a bit, or have they been replaced?
Innocuous second person POV until the last line where it's suddenly revealed to be first person POV all along and the "I" has been stalking and narrating "you".
Other fun bits / Easter eggs / secrets to hide:
Decoding within the text itself. Maybe we get given instructions to find a word in x chapter on page y on the nth line. And when we as readers collect all the words, they form a sentence that spells out an important fact which the characters are oblivious to. Or maybe the in-universe characters find a book with the same title as the irl fic with a bookmark in it, and if you go to where the bookmark is stuck irl, you'll find the murderer plainly stated. The rest of the fic is about the readers having hard confirmation of who the murderer is while characters don't know.
A phrase is subtly repeated throughout the text of the fic and is spelled out with the letter that begins a sentence. It gives off the effect that the narrator is screaming and crying into the void (to the readers in the fourth wall) while trying to avoid detection. Bonus points if the same word is repeated for pages and pages to the point the lack of sentence variation feels weird and clunky.
Morse code!! I love morse code! Using onomatopoeia to convey the dots and dashes! The sound of rain pattering on the tin rooftop— drop, drop, drop. A low whistle of a train rumbling in the distance. He slowly sharpens his knife, creating a shiiing sound. A lengthy, high pitched squeal from his kettle. A dog barks. A sharp knock. His heart thumps. Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot dot. SOS. Maybe a character's death scene spells out the name of their mysterious murderer. Maybe a character is reminiscing their deceased loved one and the scene spells out what the deceased person would've wanted to tell them— "LIVE ON" or "I LOVE YOU" or something.
#ria.txt#writing#writeblr#i love unconventional formatting and whimsy#the morse code thing is from a spopera fic i never finished lol#ao3 reddit makes me creative in an annoying and contrarian way
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Survivability Bias Pt 3
Masterpost - Ao3
Content warning: This chapter involves depiction of a train derailment and subsequent fire throughout. There is also brief mention of death. I will be putting a brief summary in the description if you prefer not to read this part.
Danny jolts up from his fitful sleep. He’s intangible and invisible before he’s even fully sitting up and he’s in the air before he registers the loud boom that woke him. Any concerns about his bright transformation are made totally irrelevant by the warning sirens blaring in his head.
Wait, no. Those are real sirens.
In the distance, lights are now accompanying the sirens; flashing as they speed down what looks like main street. It’s pretty clear where they’re going too, from the violent orange glow cascading over the tops of the nearby buildings.
I knew it, Danny thinks, flying towards whatever disaster is unfolding. probably it’s stupid to get involved, when he still knows so little about this place, but- well, old habits die hard. It doesn’t take long for the problem to become obvious, and Danny freezes as he struggles to process the scene before him.
The metal carnage is nothing like Danny’s ever seen before; what looks to be a freight train has derailed at the worst possible location, sending its cars careening into the various apartment buildings and stores on the east side of town, and to make matters worse, one of them has clearly crashed straight into the gas station by the freeway, and fire is spreading faster than Danny could have imagined.
Danny can already see two buildings blazing, but he quickly focuses his attention towards the carnage of the train itself. Luckily it’s fairly obvious what direction it was headed, and Danny moves fast, looking for the engine. In ghost form, physical sensations always feel a little more distant but even through that, Danny can feel his heart rabbiting in his chest. Luckily it takes less than a minute to find the engine, but as he approaches it, the presence of death catches in his throat, and he immediately knows it’s a lost cause.
He can’t sense any actual ghosts, though, so instead Danny whips around to stare at the derailed cars. He’s far more used to fighting than he is rescues, but he can hardly just ignore the possibility of people trapped, so he carefully begins phasing through the wreckage, searching and listening for signs of anyone. Already, people are starting to gather outside; both those who were nearby and those who have managed to escape on their own, and Danny is careful to maintain his invisibility as he works.
Danny’s made it through about half the wreck by the time he spots the firetrucks arriving, he’s pretty certain that nobody’s trapped under any of the cars, and he’s also thinking more clearly. The fire has also gotten worse now, and Danny watches as fully equipped firefighters spill out onto the street, already jumping to work as the fire chief shouts out orders. Some rush to start battling the flames, but others head towards the crowd.
They’re getting headcounts, Danny realizes. It seems so obvious in retrospect, but of course, Danny would have to be visible to check with anyone. And now that they’re here, anything he tries to do in secret would probably just make things harder. There is, of course, an easy solution to that, but- Danny has yet to find any evidence that all the meta stuff is anything but propaganda.
Even as Danny considers the dilemma, he knows what he’s going to do. He’s survived danger before, after all, and if he can keep people from assuming ghost, then he’ll have an advantage on them even if it comes to the worst. Besides, there’s that whole great powers-great responsibility thing, so in a way, it’s kind of his responsibility...
Danny floats out of the wreckage before shifting into visibility, figuring it’s probably polite to approach in their field of sight.
“What can I do to help?” Danny asks, causing most of the crowd to stare in shock. Belatedly he realizes he’s still floating, but actually that’s probably a good thing. Makes it clear he’s a meta right off the bat, at least
“New hero, huh? Powerset?” The man responds promptly, leveling Danny with an even gaze. Probably the lack of shock is a good thing. Probably.
“Uh, flight obviously, enhanced strength as well, and um... The ability to turn people and things intangible?” Danny responds promptly. It’s far from his full set, but he figures those are the most relevant, and keeping most of his tricks under his sleeve makes him feel better about what he’s doing.
“Is the fire gonna hurt you? I’m not sending some kid in there to die of third degree burns or smoke inhalation.” The man frowns, giving Danny the distinct feeling he’s not particularly impressed with Danny’s answer.
“Oh! Yeah, no, I’ll be fine! I like, don’t exactly need to breathe? And I’m fine in extreme heat too, so it shouldn’t be a problem...” Danny trails off and the head firefighter narrows his eyes as he tries not to flinch at the assessing look. To Danny’s right, someone shouts and when he turns to look, he sees a firefighter wave their arm and plant some kind of flag before moving on. No longer paying attention to Danny, the chief walks over and speaks to another firefighter. Danny wonders if he’s been dismissed, but before he can do anything, the chief calls out to him.
“Alright kid, you’re up, I guess,” he says, when Danny walks over. “We don’t know how injured he is, so do not move him, but if you’re strong enough to move this stuff fast and safe, that’ll be a damn good help.” He gestures to the twisted mess that Danny’s pretty sure was the edge of a building.
Danny nods, stepping forward to examine the rubble. The firefighter that spotted the man points to a couple beams.
“Those beams are protecting him from the worst of it right now, but we’ll need to move them in order to get him out, so you gotta make sure that there’s nothing that’ll fall on him him when you move them.”
“Righty-o,” Danny says, stepping forward to grab the two support beams he’d pointed too. He carefully examines the rubble collapsed around and over it. It’s sort of like a puzzle, he realizes - not quite the same as fixing his parents tech; certainly nothing here is supposed to be smashed together like that, but-
Danny blinks and refocuses. If he just moves a few things first, he thinks he can get enough cleared away and just intange the beams. He tries to be fast as he does, without forgetting the emphasis the chief had put on safety, and after a few moments, he’s ready to move the beams. He gets into a good position, and then carefully makes them intangible, ready to react if anything bad happens. When nothing does, he carefully pulls them up and away, watching as the waiting firefighters rush in and start to work on actually extracting the guy.
He watches for a bit as a backboard appears and they begin a very slow and careful process of getting the guy onto it.
“Kid,” the chief calls, pulling Danny’s attention away.The chief guides him towards one of the buildings that’s on fire. “Got two people trapped on the third floor here. The stairs are unsafe, so if you can, get yourself up there, locate them, and get them out.”
Danny nods, not waiting for further instruction. He flies up two floors, and goes straight through the wall with his intangibility. The majority of this building isn’t terribly damaged, but one side has collapsed in on itself so if that’s where the stairs were, he can understand the difficulty. The air inside is already thick with smoke, and he quickly stops breathing, belatedly remembering that he’s supposed to not get smoke inhalation. Luckily, it doesn’t take long to catch the sound of voices, and Danny follows it to a room where two people are huddled next to an open window. Right, that’s a smart way to limit the danger of the smoke.
“Rides here!” Danny announces cheerfully, dropping his intangibility. Both people startle as they spot him, but one recovers relatively quickly.
“Him first,” they say, nodding towards their companion, who definitely looks more dazed.
“Right, here we go!” Danny says, stepping forward, and scooping the person up, and wasting no time flying directly through the building, and down to the waiting paramedics. There’s no stretcher currently available, so Danny gently sets them on the ground away from the worst of the smoke, before flying back to get the other person. They’re already standing up, and waste no time in wrapping their arms around his neck as he picks them up and flies them out to the medics as well.
Danny hardly has time to set the person down, before the chief is pulling him away again. They send him in to save a couple other trapped people, but after that, it sounds like everybody is accounted for, because the chief starts focusing all their energy on putting out the fire, rather than just containing it.
Danny is surprised to find himself pulled into helping with this part too. He gets assigned to a fire attack team, and Danny trails along after the two firefighters as the enter the building and begin to fight the fire from the inside.Occasionally, one of them will point at some piece of wall or ceiling and ask him to check what’s on the other side. He goes where they say, looking for signs of the fire, and when he does spot flames, occasionally tearing stuff down so they can get to it with their fire hose. It’s honestly a fascinating process. Danny’s never been anywhere near a major fire and the fact that the firefighters actually do more damage to the building as they work echoes in Danny’s brain as a morbid refrain.
What they’re doing is clearly working though, because he can actually feel the ambient temperature going down as time goes on. He briefly wonders if he should be trying to use his ice powers when one of his teammates complains about how hot it is, but they have protection, and he doesn’t want to risk any more info on him getting out. And anyways, he’s busy enough just doing his job. By the time they leave the building, Danny is exhausted. The interrupted night’s sleep is making itself known, alongside the surprising realization that Danny has actually worked harder tonight than he ever has before.
He lets himself half-collapse against a wall beside one of the fire trucks, once they finish their work putting out the fire. Beside him, his teammates are divesting themselves of their gear. it’s funny, Danny was anxious about revealing himself at first, but this whole night - and Danny belatedly realizes the sun is beginning to drift above the horizon now - he’s not been scared at all. Sure he’s been worried; with people in danger he’s hardly going to feel good, but in the last few hours he’s both worked harder than he has in any of his fights, and he’s done it without feeling terrible. Now, with just everyone accounted for and just about all of them either fine or in the hands of doctors, he feels odd.
It’s not a bad feeling or anything, kind of like when he successfully beats a hard level in a video game, or how he used to feel when he finished science projects in middle school.
Satisfaction, he realizes. And that’s what it is, though it’s far stronger than any version of it that he’s ever felt before. He does have a lot to feel proud of too. He helped, even though he wasn’t sure it was safe to, and he might’ve actually saved somebody’s life tonight.
“You did good, kid.” One of his teammates says, echoing Danny’s thoughts. He startles a bit, feels himself flushing, and then in his embarrassment, he feels himself tumble over into a full blush. It’s always felt more embarrassing blushing in his ghost form. The way his skin actually glows with the green tinge is just so obviously inhuman, and he tries to avoid, tries his best to seem normal and alive, even when he’s a ghost.
Of course, these people don’t know he’s a ghost, but from what he’s seen, most of the heroes out there at least look functionally human, and he waits for the firefighters around him to freak out at the reminder that he isn’t even remotely one of them.
“Damn,” one whistles. Green glow is a new one. Makes your freckles real cute though.” The others laugh, and the other of his teammates steps forward to pat him gently on the back.
“Stop embarrassing my new favorite hero,” the chief says, walking up to join them. “You gotta name?”
“Oh, yeah!” Danny answers, desperate for a distraction from this line of conversation. “I’m Danny!”
“Danny,” the chief responds flatly. he almost sounds exasperated, though Danny can’t imagine why, unless...
Unless that absolutely sounds like he just introduced himself normal and they think he’s a hero and he sounds like a dumbass without a secret identity, which- technically isn’t exactly wrong.
“Yup!” Danny says, trying to make it sound intentional. “Danny Phantom at your service! Y’know cause of the intangibility and like. It just sounded good?” There. That sounds plausible. If he actually does end up having to be a hero, though, he’ll probably need a different first name. If he gets a civilian identity, that is.
“Well, Phantom,” the chief grins, that same assessing look from before back, but noticeably more relaxed now that there’s no immediate danger. “We’re damn grateful for all your help, and if you need anything you come let us know, alright?”
“Yeah, one of his teammates echoes. “You’re an honorary firefighter now, you should come hang out at the station sometime!” A couple of the others echo the sentiment. It’s surprisingly kind, and Danny smiles at the unrelenting wave of welcome.
“I’ll think about it,” he offers uncertainly. “For now, I think I ought to go back to sleep for a few more hours.”
“That sounds like a good idea, Danny,” the chief says. “Just make sure to get something to eat first. You’ve burned a lot of calories today.”
“Yeah, will do,” Danny offers an awkward salute to the man, and then, before he can actually fall asleep standing up, he takes off to hunt down a good spot for a nap.
#dp x dc#woooh! i am actually so fucking proud of this chapter like ahhhhh#of what ive posted so far its probably gone through the most rounds of edits which is pretty typical for my more action-oriented scenes#but also its because it ended up crystallizing a lot of the central themes in this fic for me#from here stuff is gonna get really good i think#train derailment#building fire#death mention tw#feels kind of silly adding that last one to a dp fic but i wanna be careful abt it
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Jealousy Headcanons
Wanted to switch up the character combo, but I know I have a good few Benn fans reading my stuff so I ofc had to include him
Content/Warnings: Jealousy headcanons about Mihawk, Benn and Smoker, GN!Reader, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, minor NSFW content
Mihawk didn't know he was the jealous type until he met you
He'd gone so long without a partner and been content that way, that if he'd really considered it he'd have assumed he would be a relaxed partner
He is not
He discovered that he's a possessive partner, and you are his
If someone approaches you in public, he begins with surprised amusement - when you're with him, few are brave enough to approach
He won't stop you from making new friends, he's not controlling, but he will keep one eye on the conversation for signs of distress
He's possessive, jealous, and a bit of a mother hen
If they persist, even after you've turned them down, he of course intervenes and usually does so quite violently
He's killed at least a dozen people for touching you in the wrong place, and he is prepared for that number to continue to increase
Mihawk doesn't mind if you have friends who are the same gender as you're attracted to, doesn't care at all actually - he's glad that you have friends since he's prone to being away for long periods
But, he isn't afraid to speak his mind if he feels that you, or one of your friends, has crossed a boundary (thankfully, he's not the arguing kind)
Benn was far more jealous as a younger man, but he mellows out with age
As a young man, he would treat potential other suitors to broken bones on good days
He'd follow anyone who'd given you a hard time half way home and leave them writhing in the street
He also loves to fuck when you get home after a night where he's had to watch you entertaining other people
He's only too happy to speak up in the moment, catching people off guard with his to stiff to actually be polite attitude
In his older age, he's far more secure in your relationship
He knows that these younger models can try to sway you, but he's the one you'll be coming home to
The jealous sex is still incredible, that never goes away
He also likes to brag about you as an older man, to the people he would've previously been jealous over
Smoker is the quiet type when it comes to jealousy
He doesn't approach in the moment, preferring to sit back and observe
He knows you're not unfaithful
But he hates that other people can occupy your attention - he wants it for himself
He thinks you're too good for him, but he's also a selfish man
Afterwards, he makes it clear just how jealous he was
The moment you're away from crowds, he'll have you pinned up against walls and be whispering in your ear
Sex always happens after he's been jealous, and it's rough, desperate sex
He revels in knowing just how many people are jealous of him because hell - look at you
But he does also tend to smoke his cigars a hell of a lot faster in those jealous moments
Help me decide what I'll do to celebrate 200 followers
Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment
AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs
Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots
#one piece#fanfic#writing#reader insert#loganwritesheadcanons#one piece x reader#dracule mihawk#one piece smoker#benn beckman#benn beckman x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#smoker x reader#mihawk x reader
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Eren Jeager's Masterlist
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🗝!! ✧✦. (¡¡Non of the works archieved here are mine!!)
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Hello!! I hope that everyone who read this are doing great!!
Today I decided to post a masterlist of all my favorite eren jaeger fanfics/one-shots I have ever read. I'm mostly doing this because I felt like some of this masterpieces deserved much more attention, moreover I realize that most of the writing under eren's hashtag were about smut, degradation, eren being toxic, etc. And it was getting quite tiring. Therefore I figured I could make my own masterlist and share to the world my amazing findings.
You’re free to comment recommendations if you have any too!! (not but fr I have read everything and I need more 🥲)
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• THIRTEEN by emefaerie (wattpad and ao3)
By far the best fanfic I have ever read. Not only because of the plot (which is amazing, the author is a genius) but the writing is to die for and the characters are soo well written. Everything about this book is perfect!! It covers from childhood friends to lovers, to enemies to lovers, to strangers to lovers and is just amazing!! And the way that the main 2 ache for eachother leaves with nothing but to wish that a love like that finds you.
• COMRADES by emefaerie (wattpad and ao3)
I love this author so much you guys have no idea, this was my favorite story for soo long. Like I said the writing is from another world. Emotions are so well descripted and the way that the author managed to fit the reader in such a complete way in the original plot from the anime is literally perfect. The relationship of the main 2 is such a roller coaster of emotion that you never stop to want more. Emefaerie never dissapoints.
• To love a liar by butterflytint (wattpad)
Kind of reminds me of parasite but is also so different at the same time. The writing is also spectacular and the emotions are so well descripted. The hurt/comfort in here is literally perfect and the slowburn is amazing.
• For you by simp4eren (wattpad)
Soo so good!! The slowburn is also amazing and the topics are also described perfectly. This one was like my second favorite fanfic of eren, literally perfect!!
• CAMGIRL by D1CKTATED (wattpad)
Sadly is not yet finished and the chapters are pretty short but the build up is exciting!! The relationship between the main characters is really interesting too and the plot leaves you wanting more.
• method acting by @seeingivy (tumblr and ao3)
Also a childhood friends to lovers (I'm a sucker for those). Perfect way to write emotions and her eren is literally one of my favorite one. The plot is soo good and jealousy is everything in this fic. Describes everything that happens in the acting industry so well that you feel like you’re in it. Soo so good!!
• Just a friendly kiss by princess_okkotsu (ao3)
Fluff, fluff and fluff. This one-shot heals every angst of all the books before mentioned. Is short but is worth reading. And is perfect because is a best friends to lovers (my favorite trope tbh)
• Easy, baby by prettyboykatsuki (ao3)
Childhood friends to lovers in all its glory (also a one-shot). So well written and the tension is just ughhh. I just wish he was real.
• Hate you too. by Kuro_no_Ai_Hime (ao3)
Enemies to lovers!! Mostly a two-shot centered in smut but the plot is also really good. The tension between the two is also to die for. I also love this one because is not a modern au and it happens during the scouts, and those are my favorite type of fanfic. (Can you believe that this was published before season 2 and 3 like omg)
• Serendipity by aspynxcea (ao3)
What a book, holy shit. The slowburn is perfect and it kind of like a “she felt first, he felt harder” but also a enemies to lovers. Emotions here are also pretty well written and the drama fits really well into the plot. Love this book!!
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Hope you all send love to this amazing authors and if you have any recommendation please let me know!! (Preferably a childhood/best friends to lovers)
🤍.
#eren x reader#eren smut#aot smut#aot x reader#snk x reader#eren jaeger#eren jeager x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger smut#eren jeager x you#eren fluff#aot#eren
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Wolf Maiden
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THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.
Summary: Betrayed by those closest to you, you are left as a sacrifice for crimes of witchcraft, expected to be killed by the otherworldly creatures that dwell in the forest. You wait for death, only for destiny to find you instead.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Word Count: 6995
Warnings: werewolves, mates, false accusations of witchcraft, mentions of assumed infertility, reader has a birthmark on her thigh (only the shape of it is described), attempted sexual assault, attempted murder, actual murder (violence and gore), this is a non A/B/O werewolf fic (just regular monsterfucking with knotting, oral sex, and sizekink here) and a very smutty ending
“Y/N Y/L/N, you have been found guilty of witchcraft.”
The wind bit into your bare skin where your ragged dress didn’t cover you. Your arms had long lost any sensation from hanging in the restraints, a mercy considering the wounds from the bindings. Every movement made the wooden frame creak; maybe if you’d had the strength, you could have broken free, but three days of starvation and a meager amount of water had left you exhausted and weak.
“The sentence is death, and shall be carried out by the full moon tomorrow, where you shall be offered as sacrifice to the beasts of the forest.”
Your anger was still burning a righteous pit in your gut. Nathaniel, your cowardly, monstrous husband, had come to see you before the sentence was carried out, and you wished you had clawed his eyes out of his skull. It was all his fault.
“On the chance that you survive until morning, the sentence shall be carried out by hanging.”
He’d never gotten past your inability to bear him a child, never considered it might have been him that was the problem. When his slimy brother had tried to proposition you with hopes of being a stand-in, you had spurned him, only for him and their mother to accuse you of the seduction, and Nathaniel had seen an opportunity to rid himself of his “barren” wife. A birthmark on your thigh that vaguely resembled a crescent moon was credited as the Devil’s Mark, and the whole village had been in uproar. You had never been particularly religious, a notion that worked against you once Nathaniel and his family had begun their lies. According to them, you had bedded half the village, and men were all too eager to blame their weaknesses on a woman.
Especially one who could read.
The moon was high in the sky now, full and bright, bathing the small clearing in white. None of the villagers had hung around to see your sentence carried out - they would either find you dead in the morning, or you would be alive only for them to hang you. There had never been a hanging after a sentence like this; you didn’t believe the stories they told children about the monstrous things in the woods, but you fully believed in bears, wolves, and other hungry predators. If that was your end, you would prefer it to facing the gibbering idiots you’d once called your community.
What little wind there had been suddenly disappeared. Everything was still and silent, aside from your shallow breaths, but it was quiet enough for you to hear the rustle of something in the tree line. You lifted your head weakly, scanning the darkness, but your vision was blurry, so you couldn’t discern anything in the shadows.
If death was coming for you, you were beginning to wish it would hurry up.
Something moved again, and this time, you saw the shadows move. They extended out from the trees until they weren’t a shadow anymore, and you felt fear run down your spine when it stepped out. It was at least seven feet tall, broad shouldered, covered in black fur, and though it walked on two legs, it looked more like a wolf than a man. Startling blue eyes fixed on you, and the creature sniffed the air, prowling a little closer. Sharp teeth and claws gleamed in the moonlight, and as it grew closer, you didn’t make a sound, watching with a dreadful understanding that the tales you’d been told from so young may not have been so made up.
The beast was close enough that you could smell the scent of wet dog clinging to it. It stepped up to the wooden frame, casting its gaze over the bindings and the crusted blood on your arms, then it met your gaze with… pity?
You must have been imagining it. It got closer, sniffing at you curiously, and you held your breath, closing your eyes when his muzzle dragged down the front of your ruined dress. “Please,” you prayed in a barely audible whisper, “kill me quickly.”
It reared back. “Kill you?” it repeated in a throaty yet masculine growl.
Surprise made your eyes snap open again. “You - you can speak?”
He blinked at you. “Yes,” he replied gruffly, before reaching for your bindings. You flinched, still uncertain of his desire, even as he used his claws to break the restraints and caught you before you could hit the floor. He lowered you gently in his arms, checking you over. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
His behavior was confusing. “I don’t understand,” you managed, despite your raw throat. “You - you aren’t going to kill me?”
“No,” he chuckled, though the sound was odd.
“But you’re… you’re the Beast, aren’t you? The one who protects the village.”
He growled lightly. “I do not protect the village,” he rumbled unhappily. “I protect the forest from the village.” With a sigh, he inspected your wrists. “You are not the first I have freed from this place.”
“You freed all the others?”
If he had an answer to your question, he didn’t give it, scooping you up off of the ground again. You were too weak to fight him if you wanted to, and he was so warm you couldn’t resist curling into him, resting against his broad chest as he walked away from the village. “I will help you,” he murmured, “as I helped the others. When you are safe, I will return, and make it look like you were killed in the night.”
You didn’t particularly want to think about what he would do to imitate a death; you’d heard the stories of the bloodied pieces left behind of others sentenced to the same fate. If this creature had deceived the village elders, you only felt amusement that they were so easily convinced, and some relief that previous innocent parties had escaped their intended punishment.
Wherever he was taking you was deeper in the woods than you imagined anyone from the village had been. There was no path, only vague indents in the undergrowth through the thick trunks, so when you came to a small clearing with a hut, it looked out of place.
“Did you bring the others here?” you asked quietly, curious about your savior.
He kept his gaze focused on the hut, trudging through the leaves with a steady gait. “No,” he admitted after a few seconds. “But the others were not like you.”
“Like me?”
It was hard to tell if he was smiling or not when he didn’t give an answer. He carried you up the unmarked path to the front door of the small building, pushing it open and stooping to step inside. You looked around once he had set you down on the bed in the only room, realizing that he must live there alone.
Suddenly, he turned, twisting and grunting as the fur on his body disappeared, and his whole form began to shrink, though not by much. The man left standing there was just as broad as the beast had been, and he quickly grabbed a pair of pants hanging in the corner to pull on over his nudity before he gave you an indecent view.
“You’re a man,” you whispered in surprise, watching as he lit a lamp, filling the room with a dim light.
“Not quite,” he replied in a much less monstrous voice. Picking up a jug and a glass, he brought them to you, filling the glass with water once you’d taken it. You sipped it gratefully, not stopping until the glass was empty. “My name is James,” he said softly as he pulled a small basin close and poured water into it. “Though most people call me Bucky.”
You gave your name in return, watching as he snatched up a washcloth, dipping it in the water before taking hold of one of your damaged wrists. “What are you, if not a man?”
“Both man and wolf,” he muttered, cleaning the cuts left behind by the bindings. “I can choose to live in this form or the other. The other is stronger, but the man… the man is more rational.”
“You seemed plenty rational to me,” you observed cautiously. “At least, compared to those bastards in the village.”
He chuckled at your coarse language. “Yes,” he agreed. “I do not get involved, but I’m aware of what you were charged with. It was how I knew to come to the altar tonight.”
You’re surprised at that, realizing he must have visited your former home to know the charges brought against you. “You’ve been in the village?” He nodded, finishing with one wrist and moving to the other. “How have I never seen you?”
“I am very good at hiding myself,” he muttered, cleaning away the dried blood. You didn’t push any further questions on him, watching him work until he was done. “There is food and more water over there.” He gestures to the table. “I will not be gone long.”
The door closed softly as he departed, and you were left alone in the dim light from the lamp on the table. You shivered, looking around to find a blanket behind you, dragging it over your shoulders and huddling on the bed to try and get warm. Exhaustion pulled you down within minutes, and when Bucky returned near dawn, you were out cold.
You stirred when the smell of food aroused your hunger. Sitting up, you saw Bucky, dressed now, huddled over a fire and stirring a pot, bathed in sunlight from the only window in the hut. It smelled like oatmeal, and your stomach growled, reminding you of your last pitiful meal. “That smells good,” you whispered, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.
Bucky gave you a sideways look, smiling. Now that you could see his face properly in decent light, you realized just how handsome he was, like some sort of fairytale knight come to life, if you disregarded the beast he could become. His hair was long and thick, dark strands tied loosely at the back, obviously to keep it out of his eyes. “I assumed you would be hungry,” he murmured, reaching for a bowl.
“What about you?” you asked as he filled the bowl.
“I already ate,” he replied, and you knew better than to ask what. Probably whatever he had used to fake your death at the altar. He handed the bowl to you, along with a spoon, and you hugged it close to yourself, inhaling the aroma as the heat warmed your hands. “I should have some clothing for you,” he muttered absently as his gaze dragged over you in a way that made your thighs almost as warm as your hands. He froze as his eyes landed on your exposed thigh and the birthmark there, and you moved the blanket to cover it, suddenly self-conscious of the stain.
“It’s just a birthmark,” you mumbled. “It’s always been there.”
He hummed, getting to his feet. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
You looked down at the oatmeal, stirring it for a second, and when you looked up again, the door was swinging shut, and Bucky was gone. A lead weight dropped into your stomach, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, not that you could think what. Was he offended by the mark on your skin? Did he believe what the villagers had called it?
When he didn’t come back, you sighed to yourself and began to eat, small mouthfuls at first, then larger ones when your hunger overrode your better manners. You resorted to licking the bowl clean when you were done, feeling relief for the first time in days. He still hadn’t returned by then, so you got to your feet, placing the bowl on the table before approaching the door, keeping the blanket wrapped around you as you exited the hut.
His retreat hadn’t taken him far. He was only a few meters from the door, digging in the dirt with his bare hands, and you realized he was pulling weeds out of a neat row of growing vegetables. You wandered closer, and he paused, glancing up at you before returning to his task.
“You live here all alone?” you asked curiously.
“No,” he replied gruffly, pulling another weed from the soil to toss it into a pile beside him. “This is only a watchpost. My real home is much deeper in the forest, where the rest of my people live.”
You didn’t know much about the world around your village. It was an insulated existence; your life required no travel when everything you needed was in one place, and merchants often passed through with new goods. Nathaniel had been to the city once or twice, but it was a long journey you had never felt the desire to make. “It must be lonely out here.”
“I like the quiet,” he shrugged, fishing out the last weed before brushing his hands off. He got to his feet, turning to face you. The wind picked up a little, and you shivered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. Bucky’s eyes widened and he grunted, moving towards you. “I forgot the clothes.”
Even though he didn’t request it of you, you followed him back inside, lingering by the door as he went to a chest in the corner behind the table, rifling through it. He pulled out a simple cotton shift, turning to thrust it at you.
“This will cover you better,” he instructed, and you took it meekly, moving towards the bed and shedding the blanket. He cleared his throat and turned away, tucking his chin into his chest. “The mark on your thigh -”
“It’s a birthmark,” you repeated, pulling your tattered dress over your head, “despite what the elders claimed.”
“It’s not a birthmark,” he said softly as you dragged the shift on, and his statement made you turn your head to him, tilting it in confusion.
“I’m decent.”
Huffing lightly, he turned, raking his eyes over you, and the hunger in them startled you. You drew back an inch or so, feeling the bed connect with your calves. He stared at you, twitching like he was trying to control himself.
“What is it, if not a birthmark?” you asked breathlessly. “It’s not actually a Devil’s mark, is it?” Werewolves were apparently real, as you’d obviously found out, so you didn’t see why other things wouldn’t be too at that point.
“No,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “The mark of the crescent moon means that you are a wolf maiden.” You frowned at him, uncertain of the truth behind his words. He sighed, letting his shoulders drop as he moved a little close, speaking hesitantly. “It means… you are strong enough to be mated to a lycan, to carry his children.”
You pursed your lips, unable to stop the wry smile twisting them. “I’m not so sure about that,” you laughed dryly. “I’ve never been able to conceive.” Sadness weighed on you, and you let it take you down until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “That’s why Nathaniel betrayed me, because I couldn’t give him children.”
A low rumble of amusement made you look up at him. “Only because he is human.” His voice lowered, humor turning to anger as he spoke of your husband. “Weak. His seed could not hope to take root in your womb. You weren’t meant for him.”
The words were roughly spoken, and the same warmth his ravenous looks had inspired returned tenfold, making you squirm on the thin mattress. Bucky loomed over you, breathing heavily, and you licked your lips, gripping the edge of the bed tightly as you posed your next question.
“Then… do you think I am meant for you?”
His eyes were almost glowing. “No,” he whispered. “I know you are.”
The breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding came out in a shudder, but he didn’t move, pinning you with his gaze. “H-how could you know that?” you asked, ignoring the instinct in your heart that agreed with him. “People don’t just know, it doesn’t - it doesn’t work like that.”
He laughed, breaking the spell as he looked away. “I’m not a person,” he reminded you gently, moving backwards to the table. You followed him with your eyes, trying to force your tense muscles to relax. Everything about him had you on edge, in a good way, which was somehow more terrifying than if he frightened the hell out of you. “I do not expect anything of you, Y/N,” he murmured, keeping his back to you, “but do not expect me to conceal my desire for you. I knew the moment I scented your blood that you were mine. Perhaps that was why I knew to come.”
“I’m still technically married,” you said, as if your vows meant anything to you with the betrayal from your spouse.
Another low peal of amusement; his shoulders shook with his mirth. He turned to smile at you, one eyebrow lifting above the other. “Do you really think such a human bond as marriage means anything to something like me?”
“I guess not,” you answered prudishly, folding your hands in your lap.
He watched you for a moment as you stared at the floor. You didn’t say a word, worried you’d insulted him in some way, and when he moved, you flinched out of habit, a reaction that made him freeze. “You are safe here,” he murmured with a sigh, moving towards the door. “I will be back after dark. Do not go past the trees.”
The door closed behind him. You looked up, biting your lip as you mulled over his instruction. When you got up and went to the door, you opened it to an empty garden; he had disappeared. You closed the door again, scanning the hut for anything to occupy yourself, spotting a small pile of books by the chest. Moving to inspect them closer, you realized they were fiction, and seized upon them with glee.
Books had always been a comfort, somewhere to escape the brutish hand of your husband and his family. You had read everything the village offered three times over, so the unfamiliar stories you had found were enthralling, easily passing the time while Bucky was gone. When your stomach rumbled, you ate some more oatmeal from the still warm pot, finding fresh logs stacked outside to refresh the flames when they dimmed. By the time night fell, the fire was the only light, but there was plenty to read by.
Eventually, you grew tired again, deciding to let the fire die as you curled underneath the blanket on the bed, wondering if your host would return before you dozed off. He hadn’t, though you thought you heard howls outside as your eyes fluttered shut.
When you woke, you were much warmer, and you quickly realized it was because you were laying against something very warm and very furry. Bucky had returned at some point and now lay next to you, still the wolf, offering the comfort you couldn’t find in the thin blanket. You remained still, comfortable in his loose hold, uncertain whether you should have been upset at his presence or questioning the undeniable feeling that you belonged there.
After a few minutes, you felt the beginning of a more desperate need. You wriggled carefully out of his hold, sliding off of the bed onto bare feet. As you stood, Bucky shifted onto his front, and the monstrous bipedal wolf became a man again, bare-assed on the bed. Your face heated up, and you grabbed the blanket, tossing it over his behind in an attempt to silence your lustful thoughts.
The woods outside were silent, lit pink with the growing dawn. You found a spot to relieve your need, then wandered over to the other side of the hut, staring through the trees in the direction you thought the village was based on where the sun was rising.
Would there be any kind of funeral for you? Did anyone miss you? You hadn’t had what anyone would describe as friends, despite living there your whole life. Other women had spurned you for your love of reading, of knowledge, and of course, your other perceived feminine failures.
And what were you to do now? You couldn’t go home. You knew nothing of the world beyond books and what others had told you. The thought made you feel helpless, more than you’d ever felt before, and the tears begin falling before you recognize them.
The sun rose higher, and you sat in the grass, arms wrapped around your knees as you stared into the forest, tears leaving tracks on your cheeks. You heard the hut door open but didn’t turn, not even when Bucky approached from behind and sat down beside you. He was silent, though he let his shoulder brush against you in an offer of comfort.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” you admitted softly, fresh tears trickling down the paths previous ones had made. “My whole life I’ve been told what to do, and I did it, for the most part. But I’ve never been anywhere. Nowhere real.”
He listened, giving you a few seconds before he spoke. “What does your heart tell you?”
You sniffed, rubbing your cheek against your shoulder. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I don’t understand what I’m feeling. I should be heartbroken, not just by Nathaniel’s betrayal but by… by everyone's!” Your voice rose with your frustration. “Yet I don’t. I feel… I feel…” Words became an irritated noise and you threw your hands up. “You confuse me,” you finally said quietly, glaring at him.
His low chuckle infuriated you more. “I have already told you what I feel,” he shrugged. “My choice is simple. But your choice is not mine to make.”
“You’re not helping this be less confusing,” you grumbled, elbowing him as he laughed again. “How can you be so sure?”
He smiled at you, an affectionate expression that shouldn’t have warmed your insides like it did. “Because we know,” he whispered. “Every wolf knows when they have found their mate.” The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. “I had begun to believe that I would never find mine. It’s why I came here, away from my people, because I did not believe my mate was there.” His smile grew. “Apparently, I was right.”
“So you want me to stay,” you deduced, and he nodded. “What if I decide not to?”
His smile faded. “Then I will remain here,” he murmured, finally looking away. “And hope that you would one day return to me.”
The sudden sadness in his tone made your heart ache. You didn’t say another word, but you leaned into him, and he accepted the small token, both of you sitting in peaceful companionship. Clouds began to gather in the sky, and leaves danced on the ground with the breeze, gathering underneath the trees when they were blown too far. Eventually, there were enough clouds to threaten rain, and Bucky got to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You didn’t let go once you were standing, giving him a tiny smile when he looked at your joined fingers.
It began to rain not long after you had gone inside, and he immediately started to prepare a meal. Putting all of the weirdness to one side, you struck up conversation, trying to get to know him just a little before allowing yourself to admit there was more than simple attraction between you. He answered most of your questions, telling you about his home and his family, his friends, asking you questions in return, and you began to feel like his life was idyllic compared to yours when your answers were much shorter and less enthused. In truth, your father had only kept you around long enough to marry you off to the first man who proposed a large enough dowry, and then both of your parents had succumbed to the bitter winters several years before. You had only Nathaniel’s family, who treated you with disdain at best, and as an indentured servant at worst.
When the rain didn’t ease up by nightfall, Bucky decided not to hunt that night, joining you when you retired to the bed with a book. You didn’t protest when he curled in behind you, offering further warmth that you happily accepted. The book grew too heavy for your tired limbs not long after, and you hovered between awake and asleep, barely catching his murmured words against your hair as the latter became stronger.
“You’re mine.”
You awoke with his arm around your waist, and something poking into the small of your back. The sleepiness faded as you realized what it was, and warmth filled you from head to toe. He was out cold, and didn’t react when you peeled his arm off and slipped outside into the morning light. Your thoughts were already racing, mulling over your situation with no clear answer to any of it. Bucky seemed so sure of something you didn’t feel you could possibly understand, and if you were honest, while you had devoured romance tales with a fierce desire to feel something like it, the real thing terrified you. In less than two days, you felt more of a connection to this stranger than you had to anyone in your entire life.
Needing to clear your head, you began to walk along the treeline, pausing when you heard the rush of water through the trees. There was a worn path through the bushes, so you followed it, putting the hut behind you as you searched for wherever the sound of water was coming from.
It was only a stream, maybe the width of a person laying across it, maybe deep enough to submerge your ankles. You moved closer, dipping a toe in, and the deliciously cool, fresh water enticed you further, until you were standing in the middle, enjoying the clean feeling. Letting your arms hang free, you tilted your head back, wondering if it would be uncouth to undress and bathe right there.
You hadn’t been able to wash yourself in nearly a week, so you took the opportunity, removing your dress and tossing it onto a nearby rock away from the water. Crouching down, you cupped your hands, washing as thoroughly as you could, lamenting the lack of soap. Still, it was better than nothing, and the sun was rising high enough to bathe your skin in late summer warmth, helping you dry off.
A low growl from the trees made you turn, spotting Bucky lurking in his wolf form, breathing heavily as he watched you bathe. You rushed for your dress, pulling it on as he prowled closer, scenting the air around you. “I told you not to go beyond the trees,” he snarled, baring sharp fangs.
Your indignation at being held there overrode everything else. “You cannot keep me here against my will,” you snapped, attempting to storm off away from him, but he was faster, blocking your escape.
“And where will you go?” he replied with a curl to his upper lip. “Back to the village so that they may hang you?”
“Maybe I should go and warn them that there is an actual beast,” you shot back. He lunged, and you squealed as he hauled you close. “Let go of me!” you shrieked, pounding your fist against his shoulder only for him to laugh mockingly. “I do not belong to you!”
His grip loosened and you slipped free, landing on the ground with a thud. “Then go,” he said wearily, turning his back. “See how far you get.”
Your steps were hesitant when you rose, and you half expected him to follow you. After walking a few paces, you broke into a run, wincing when your bare feet caught on the uneven ground, and you were certain he wouldn’t let you get far, even if when you glanced behind, there was no sign of him. You kept going, unable to believe he had just allowed you to run; maybe he believed you would only get lost, that it would teach you a lesson, and the further you got, the more you thought that getting lost was the least of your worries.
Coming to a stop, you looked around, wondering how far from the village you actually were. You weren’t sure you even wanted to go back there - actually, you were certain you didn't - but at the same time, you were terrified of whatever otherworldly magic was taking hold of you when you were with Bucky. It was too easy to be with him, to give in, and you needed to know it was your own heart, your own soul making you feel this way and not something else.
You had been walking unsteadily for hours, stopping every so often to try and find something familiar to follow. There was no sign of a road, no sign of anything, and when it began to rain softly, you started to feel a little hopeful that Bucky might have followed you after all. If he had, he didn’t show himself, so you continued on, slowly growing wetter and more exhausted.
The bushes suddenly rustled, and something jumped out, making you scream in surprise. It was only a deer, wide-eyed and instantly sprinting away from whatever had spooked it. You spun when you heard a voice, dismay making your heart sink when you realized it was a familiar one.
You must have been closer to the village than you knew. There was no time to hide before they came rushing through the bushes, chasing after the deer they had missed. Both of them froze when they saw you, and your husband’s eyes widened in shock. He whispered your name as his brother scowled at you, and you remained motionless, eyes dropping to the weapons they were carrying.
“You’re alive?” Nathaniel sounded bewildered. “But… the elders.”
“She escaped,” Simon scoffed, pulling a knife free from its sheath. “Little witch bitch probably killed a rabbit for all that blood.”
You backed up, tripping on a root. The men moved closer as you hit the ground, looming over you. “You should be dead,” your husband ground out.
“Everyone thinks she is,” Simon chuckled, crouching down to press the tip of his knife to your chin, and you swallowed hard, wishing you hadn’t tried to escape the safe haven you’d been in. “I say we take what she owes us. Or me. Never did get to feel that sweet little cunny you always talked about.”
Revulsion propelled your hand, knocking the knife out of his grasp. “Get the hell away from me,” you yelped, attempting to scrabble away from them, but they were larger, stronger. Nathaniel grabbed hold of you, wrapping an arm around your neck as you struggled against him.
“Now, now, my pretty little wife,” he cooed in your ear. Simon approached from in front of you, rubbing the crotch of his pants lewdly. “You’ll do at least one thing right before you die.”
You weren’t about to let it happen, striking out with your foot, managing to catch Simon right in the balls. He went down, clutching at his groin, moaning as Nathaniel shoved you onto the floor, pulling out his knife. “Fucking kill her!” Simon wailed, tears running down his cheeks as he tried to stand, and though you felt a deep satisfaction at wounding his pride, you were more concerned about the sharp knife your husband was approaching with.
“I’ll just slit your throat,” he growled. “You won’t be a problem anymore.”
He reached down but his fingers never made contact. Something large and black flew over your head, and as lightning cracked the sky from one side to the other, you saw Bucky tearing your husband apart. Simon screamed for his brother, only to draw the wolf’s attention to him; later, you’d mull over how the sight of two grown men being shredded should have been more upsetting to you, but in the moment, you were more concerned with the huge werewolf now stalking you. The rain got heavier, and blood ran off of his fur as he moved, coming closer to you as you watched, rooted to the spot.
Nathaniel’s blade was in his shoulder. You took a step towards him, reaching for it, and he flinched away at first, relaxing when you pressed a hand to his fur, using the other to pull the knife free and toss it away. He didn’t make a sound, and the wound closed in front of your eyes. A clawed hand cradled your face, and you leaned into him, relieved he’d come for you after all.
“You’re mine,” he growled low in his throat, sounding more like the animal than the man. His other hand curled around your hip, clawed thumb inadvertently tearing through the fabric of your dress. “I can’t let you go.”
You gasped as his long rough fingers pressed between your thighs. “Bucky -”
In all the time you’d seen him in that form, you hadn’t really thought of him as naked, even if he had been when he changed back to human. Now, his arousal was evident as his thick red cock emerged from its sheath, poking insistently into your belly. You had never considered the possibility that he might take you like this, if it would even work, but now, the thought wouldn’t stop, building into a desire that had you panting in his hold.
Your back hit the ground when he pushed you down, shredding the material that covered your wet skin. His muzzle nudged between your legs, long tongue rolling out to drag over your cunt, and you whimpered, reaching down to slide your finger through the thick fur near his pointed canine ears. He grunted when you grasped at them, nuzzling closer to you as his eyes closed, flicking his tongue against your entrance before sinking it inside.
His clawed hands pushed your knees up and apart, and he delved deeper, filling you with his tongue over and over. You almost couldn’t breathe, gasping as he feasted on you. The sounds he made were obscene, showcasing his obvious enjoyment of the task, tightening his grip on you when you began to squirm, frightened of the intense pressure he was creating. It grew stronger and you felt tears in your eyes as it seemed to explode inside you with a gush of warmth that he lapped up eagerly, slowly releasing you as you covered your face and sobbed.
Bucky stopped, lifting his head, crawling over your body until his nose could nudge at your hands, coaxing them away from your face. “Did I hurt you?” he asked in a rough voice edged with concern.
“No!” you cried, fixing wide eyes on him. “No, I -” Embarrassment made you want to cover your face again, and you looked away, guilty at your own inexperience. “I’ve never felt anything like that,” you whispered, shame making your eyes fill again. “No one’s ever -”
He chuckled, nuzzling into your face. You lifted your hands to frame his snout. “I will never leave you unsatisfied, my beloved,” he murmured, drawing your legs around his waist. “And I would never hesitate to taste you like that.”
Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his cock pressing against your bare slit. The anticipation made you quiver underneath him, though you didn’t voice your concern over his size, wondering how he could possibly fit. He sensed your apprehension, humming deeply as he grazed your shoulder with his fangs.
“Do not fret,” he soothed. “I will not hurt you.”
You clung to his thick fur, nodding as the tip breached your aching channel. He was warm, almost radiating heat, and though you expected pain from the penetration, there was none, only a heady rush of arousal as his thick cock split you open. Each inch filled you with a delicious thrill, and by the time he was seated deep inside, you were already back on the edge of the same pleasure he’d inspired before.
His breathing changed, becoming hard pants against your shoulder as he held steady and deep within you. You squeezed your eyes closed when his sharp teeth grazed your skin again, clenching around him, and he growled at the sensation, jutting his hips forward a little more. The movement made you aware of something unusual; the base of his cock was thicker, almost swollen, and when he pushed a little more, you realized it was a knot.
He started to move without warning, lifting his head to fix his blue eyes on you just as you fell apart at the drag of his thick shaft against your sensitive walls. You cried out, twisting your fingers in his fur, tormented by the unbearable ecstasy running through you.
“I - I can’t - it’s too - too much!”
With a low growl, Bucky dipped his head, tearing through the remnants of the dress covering your chest. His tongue circled around one nipple, teasing it to hardness, and your eyes rolled back, body twitching as euphoria picked you apart into a million pieces. You couldn’t think or speak, couldn’t manage more than a whimper as he took you and laid claim to every part of you.
An abrupt withdrawal allowed you to find some sort of control over your limbs, but you only had time to lift your head before he flipped you onto your stomach, dragging your hips up into a lewd position that exposed you to his hungry gaze. His claws dug into your skin, breaking through in places, leaving tiny smears of blood as he manhandled you, and it was only the damp moss that stopped your knees scraping against the rock. With one stroke, he entered you again, and this time you screamed, feeling him at a new depth and angle that made your eyes cross.
He howled as he filled you, launching into a punishing rhythm that sent you spiraling. The craving for him grew stronger than the fear of your body’s response to the overstimulation, and soon you were pushing back against his thrusts, seeking more of what he offered. Your cries echoed in the trees around you; you barely noticed that it had stopped raining.
The base of his cock began to swell, pressing more insistently against your bruised opening. You mewled, digging your fingers into the ground, suddenly desperate to feel it, but Bucky didn’t stop, keeping his pace steady until the desperate and high-pitched ‘please’ fell from your lips. He snarled and took hold of your shoulder, pulling your whole body down hard. The thick knot slipped inside and locked him there, and your wish was granted; he came with a throaty roar before his teeth sank into your shoulder, permanently branding you. It only hurt for a second, and then you came with him, drunk on the feeling of his spend filling your belly.
You went nearly limp in his hold, panting heavily. He dragged his tongue over the mark he’d left on your shoulder, cleaning it as he waited for his body to calm, allowing him to withdraw his knot from the grip of your cunt. In the few minutes you were locked together, you bathed in his touch, feeling nothing but the delicious buzz of your connection and the lingering echoes of the pleasure he’d given you. You weren’t sure how long it was before he could finally withdraw, and when he finally did, there was a brief moment of loss and cold, making you shiver.
He didn’t go far. Sliding his arms underneath your body, he cradled you against his chest, beginning the walk back to the hut, leaving the two bodies behind for someone else to find.
A further warning for the people who had been so unkind to you to keep away from where they did not belong.
“Tomorrow, we will leave,” he said as he carried you through the trees. You smiled, burrowing your face into his warm, if a little damp, fur. “Another will take my place here.”
“We’ll go to your village?” you asked sleepily, and he nodded, humming a confirmation. With one hand pressed against his chest, you let your eyes fall shut without saying anything else, without need to say anything. He kept walking, holding you close, secure against his body, the steady beat of his footsteps lulling you into a doze.
When he reached the hut, he carried you inside before shifting to his human form, slipping behind you on the bed to hold you close. You weren’t quite asleep, turning to face him and looking up as he smiled down at you. “I did not mean to be so… rough,” he whispered, running his finger over the wound on your shoulder.
“I wasn’t complaining at the time,” you reminded him, catching his hand with your own. “I’ve never felt that way before.”
His smile softened, and he leaned in to kiss you properly, dragging it out until you pulled back to gasp for breath. “Do not think I have had my fill of you,” he warned quietly, tugging you as close as he could get you. “But you should sleep. The journey home is long.”
You didn’t argue when your eyes were already drooping shut, despite the renewed throb of need in your core. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, almost sheltering you with his body, making you feel safer and more loved than you ever had before. It didn’t matter how this had come to be, only that it had, and nothing would change it. You belonged to man and beast alike.
And he belonged to you.
THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#reader insert#werewolf Bucky#monsterfucking#fanfic#fanfiction#monstober 2024
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Hello! Good evening!
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Mithrun and I had a small scenario pop up in my head, and it would be lovely to see your vision on how this would play out, please and thank you 💕:
AFAB!Elf!reader is a member of the canaries, very soft spoken and rather kind. The nicest, most likely. Against her better judgement she’s down bad for the captain and everyone else is like “pls no I’d rather you not”. (She can fix him/jk)
Mithrun realizes she has feelings for him and in a very subtle way treats her a little more gentle than the others. Lets her spoil him a tiny bit more. Listens to her a bit more.
Reader can only hope one day maybe…just maybe…the captain can show a little interest in her too 🥺 and is oblivious that he lets her get away with a little more than others
Just very soft feelings all over
I won't spoil it for those who haven't read the manga, but there are instances where we see Mithrun treat Kabru rather favorably and opening up in great detail about his past. In a side story, we also see that younger Mithrun cared for the other canaries quite a bit. I imagine that even without his desires, Mithrun would appreciate care shown to him in his own Mithrun-y way.
SFW
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d57a07c4d9a9fd6f7cfd5cdb1a356890/16807556e45fe074-db/s540x810/8782dc03fe4299baa8ca1dab6a8c6968af15bddb.jpg)
Mithrun might be adverse to you at first, because when he really looks inward you remind him of his younger self.
However, Mithrun would soon come to see that you don't have the same...pitfalls in your personality that brought him where he is today. He might even come to somewhat admire your ability to stay genuinely kind in a world like theirs.
The other canaries start to notice that you have a much easier time getting their leader to take an ounce of care in his own well-being than any of them ever have. Some of them think it's entertaining while others (Pattadol) think the favoritism is unnacceptable.
Cithis might tease him about it if you aren't around, "We don't want to worry poor [y/n] by getting all dehydrated now, do we captain?"
Even the mention of your name is enough to motivate Mithrun, though you remain completely unaware. In your mind, the captain regards you as nothing more than a subordinate.
You don't notice the way his good eye trains on you as you talk about life before the canaries. You don't realize how fast he falls asleep when you're near. The magnitude of the fact that one night he voluntarily tells you a story about when he and his brother were children slips by you completely.
Pattadol is the only one to ever bring it up to you directly, and you truly have no idea what she's talking about. None of the others help her either, preferring to sit back and watch how her face reddens with frustration.
Mithrun isn't oblivious to the situation, however. He knows that there's something about you that...calms him, at the very least. He's sharp enough to know that you feel the same way about him, perhaps even stronger.
He likes having you around. It's not something he wants when you're gone, but it's something he enjoys while you're there. Because he knows you have some type of feelings for him, he indulges you at every turn. He even lets you wash his back and massage the scarred tissue built at the tips of his ears- though you're terribly relieved he can't see the heat rising on your cheeks as you do so.
One day, long long after the dungeoneering is done, perhaps you might even be able to help Mithrun find his desires, find himself again.
*do not post elsewhere without explicit permission. please consider reblogging, as Tumblr tends to hide adult content!
[RULES] [MASTERLISTS] [AO3] [KO-FI]
#dungeon meshi#mithrun#mithrun of the house of kerensil#dunmeshi#delicious in dungeon#x reader#dungeon meshi x reader#mithrun x reader#drabbles#asks#dungeon meshi drabbles#delicious in dungeon x reader#minors dni#anon#fl*ff#afab reader#dungeon meshi headcanons
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Accountant of Theed
Read on AO3
After all is said and done, someone needs to balance these books, and nobody actually told the accounting department how they paid for this new hyperdrive. Mimi really hopes it's not a loan from the Hutts.
Disclaimer: I am not an accountant, but I work in an adjacent field (and have been considering getting a certification, but that's neither here nor there). While I did take some courses on it, I asked an Accounting Person to look over the excel sheet before I went forward with the rest of the fic to make sure it's internally consistent. Thank you to @gnomer-denois for confirming my balance on these works!
The reconciliation sheet does NOT follow contemporary guidelines in terms of format etc, but that is because it is:
In space! Standard practice differs from Modern United States or what have you.
Not the primary balance sheet, just the simplified version made to show to Queen Amidala.
If you'd prefer to view the Excel sheet in a more easily navigable form, there is a google drive link available. This is also your best option if using a screen reader.
-----------------------------------------
Theed is safe. They are rebuilding. There is even financial support, aid, from the Republic.
It comes with strings attached. Oversight. Auditors.
Wouldn’t want Naboo to misuse funding after that nasty mistake with the Trade Federation, right? Sure, Naboo wasn’t the one at fault, but one can never be too careful...
Mimi, as an accountant for the government of Naboo, does not in fact want to commit fraud, or enable corruption, but the rolling audits do feel a little like the Republic is punishing them for getting invaded.
“Hey, boss?”
That tone. Mimi does not like that tone. “Please tell me it’s not another unauthorized purchase with a missing receipt. Which account did they pull from this time?”
“Um... we don’t know?”
Mimi gives them a moment. No elaboration is given.
“You don’t know?”
“We don’t know,” the younger employee repeats.
“What do you mean?” Mimi asks. “People charge things to accounts or cards. They forget to submit receipts. We hunt them down for receipts, and make sure nobody is skimming off the top. That’s how it goes. Unless this is a purchase on a personal and we need to reimburse—”
“Um, maybe?”
“In which—what? That’s just... okay. There’s a process for reimbursements. You aren’t following it, which means... what? What do you mean, you don’t know? Did they use cash, or pull from an account?”
The younger employee looks down at their datapad. Looks back up at her. Looks baffled and a little scared. “Um, it’s... we still don’t have a receipt, but we also don’t know where the money for it came from? But nobody’s put in a reimbursement request and I can’t imagine anyone on the mission had those funds on them, not even the Queen herself.”
“The money for what?”
“Um. It sort of just... showed up?”
“So, it’s some kind of gift?” Mimi presses.
“Too big,” the younger mumbles, refusing to meet her eyes. “It would have to be disclosed.”
“I am giving you five seconds—”
“It’s a hyperdrive!” they yelp.
“...Explain.”
“One of the mechanics was looking over the Royal Cruiser, and found that there was unrecorded repair work to the hyperdrive. The ship took enough damage during the escape that he wasn’t surprised, but then he noticed that it was from an earlier run of the part, and when he checked, the serial number was completely wrong. The hyperdrive was completely replaced.”
Mimi closes her eyes and takes a breath. “The mechanic doesn’t know?”
“He said there’s nothing in the records that matches it at all, and it’s a big enough part that there’s no way it would just slip through the cracks, not when it’s that expensive and going on the Royal Cruiser.”
“So,” Mimi says, “we have a part worth almost as much as the rest of the cruiser combined, that just... came out of nowhere, and nobody claiming for reimbursement.”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s what it looks like.”
Mimi has no interest in fraud.
“Find out who was piloting when Queen Amidala escaped, and see if they have any answers,” Mimi tells them. “If we can keep it to just the hangar staff without drawing in the Royal Retinue, it’ll be easier on all of us.”
“Here’s hoping, ma’am.”
(Continue on AO3)
#phoenix files#star wars#the phantom menace#original characters#naboo#accounting#Padme Amidala#Sabe#Tsabin#Anakin Skywalker#Obi-Wan Kenobi#Shmi does not appear but this is like half about her. and Qui-Gon. and Watto.#so#Shmi Skywalker#Qui Gon Jinn#Watto#receipt reconciliation
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This is a low key summer reading challenge specifically for fandom. All you have to do to participate is get a bingo card, read a fic, leave a comment, and mark that square off on your card! We hope this will encourage you to step outside your go-to fandom paths and find something new and amazing.
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Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)
***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!
Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.
Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.
a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.
Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines,
@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus
It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.
“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”
“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.
“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”
“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.
“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.
Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly.
You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”
Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”
Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms.
“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.
“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.
You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”
“Mhm. And what did you do?”
“We-”
“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire.
He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”
Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”
You and Astarion shared a look.
“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.
Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”
Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.”
“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.
“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.
Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”
“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”
Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames.
“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.
Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp.
Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”
Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”
Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade.
“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.
“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly.
Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”
Astarion made to argue. “But-”
“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”
“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware.
“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked.
Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”
You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly.
“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.
Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word.
“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers.
“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you.
“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours.
You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.
“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek.
“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress.
“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away.
“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain.
“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”
“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.
“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.
“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”
“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.
“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare.
You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.
At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case.
“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”
“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”
“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”
You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”
Withers stared back.
“Okay, two times.”
The stare continued.
“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”
Withers said nothing.
You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other.
“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”
“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”
You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual.
~~~~~
It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place.
Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.
“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”
“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”
“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”
After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes.
By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process.
“Do you miss him already?” she teased.
“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.
“Do you loooove him?”
You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”
She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”
You paused. “Was what good?”
Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”
Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”
“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets.
She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.
You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.
A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline.
“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”
“Yeah, well.”
“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”
“Um…” You pursed your lips.
“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”
“It was!”
“But-?”
“There is no but! He was really good!”
“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”
“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”
Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back.
“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing.
“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”
“And so what if he was!”
“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”
You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”
“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”
You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”
Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.”
You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”
“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”
“Thank you.”
“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”
“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”
“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”
“Alright,” you cut her off.
“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”
“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”
Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”
Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”
Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”
Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”
You sighed happily. “He did.”
“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”
“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”
“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”
You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”
“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”
“I am,” you sighed in agreement.
The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly.
“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”
“Thanks?” you laughed.
“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”
You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.
“Your guests dost approach from the east.”
“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”
“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.
“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”
Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp.
Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.
Noted. You’d have to check on them later.
Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.
“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.
She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”
Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.
“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely.
Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”
“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point.
“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”
You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”
“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.
“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”
“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair.
“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.
You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.
Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon.
Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath.
Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.
You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”
“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”
You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange.
Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”
“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.
“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.”
You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.
“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.
“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”
A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”
Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank.
“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”
“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.
“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself.
Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.
Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally.
“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.
“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile.
“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.”
“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”
“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child.
“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk.
“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”
“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”
Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”
You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.
“Maybe later.”
He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.
“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed.
“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.
“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling.
He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration.
“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.
“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.
“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.
“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically.
Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”
“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.
“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”
A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.
“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.
You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”
Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude.
Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”
Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”
Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed.
Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets.
“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”
“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot.
You saw her see you and duck behind the rock.
“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”
She came out slowly and nodded.
“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen.
She nodded again and looked at her feet.
“What are you doing over here all alone?”
She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”
You tilted your head. “What did he say?”
Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.
You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.
“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood.
“Come on,” you said and took her hand.
Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.
Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”
Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away.
“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.”
Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased.
Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.
Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you.
“Thanks for that,” she said.
“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.
“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.”
You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.
“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.
“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added.
“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”
Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”
“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”
“I’m listening.”
“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”
“-long or floofy?”
“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.
“Right. I know him.”
“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”
Mol scoffed.
“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”
“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”
“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”
“And if we don’t get caught?”
“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”
Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”
You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”
“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”
“Lay it on me.”
“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”
You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. “But you’ve got a deal.”
“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”
“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched.
She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”
“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.
Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”
“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.
Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”
You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire.
You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin.
“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?”
He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”
You nodded.
“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”
“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again.
“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”
Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”
“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”
Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by.
Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch.
Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you.
“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.
You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.
“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.
He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.”
“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond.
“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”
“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.”
He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”
“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”
“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.
You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled.
He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.
“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.
Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”
You finally pulled back and nodded.
“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”
“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.
“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.
Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”
“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye.
“I did, didn’t I?”
It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”
Silfy nodded.
“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”
Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”
“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”
Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well.
“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”
You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly.
Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.
“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”
You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple.
You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants.
Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.
You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”
“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”
You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”
Astarion placed his hands on his hips.
You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.
“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.
“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”
“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”
“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”
Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”
“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth.
Astarion tilted his head in disbelief.
“I can!” You doubled down.
“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek.
He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed.
“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.
“Aw, shucks.”
He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.
He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.
“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”
“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”
A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.”
Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again.
“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table.
He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”
Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”
“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”
Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”
Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.
He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”
Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.
“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself.
“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”
“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”
“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”
You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.
Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.
“Your loss, Soldier!”
“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent.
“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side.
“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.
“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”
You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”
“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”
“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.
“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars.
Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”
“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”
“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”
“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off.
He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”
You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”
“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”
“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.
“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.”
“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.”
“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”
“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”
“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”
You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”
He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”
“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.
“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.
“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”
“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”
He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features.
Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.
“Is that Wyll?” you asked.
Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”
“And you didn’t check on him?”
“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”
You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”
“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”
“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.
Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air.
“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.
“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”
“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”
Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”
“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back.
After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”
“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”
“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”
“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”
“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”
You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.
“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.”
You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”
Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”
“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”
Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”
“You seem like the type,” you laughed.
“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.”
“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.
“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.”
You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”
Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly.
“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”
“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party.
“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly.
You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”
Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats.
You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”
Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”
As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen.
No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other.
“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.
“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”
Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”
Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”
“Tragic,” was all he said in response.
Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.”
“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”
Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”
You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”
Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”
“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute.
As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.
Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.
“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.
“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”
“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”
You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire.
“What shall we play?” she asked.
“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”
Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?
Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing.
With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four.
Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment.
As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.
You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup.
As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms.
“Marvelous!”
“Such fun!”
“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”
“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.
You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.
“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”
Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”
“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”
“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.”
Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.
Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”
“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.
“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.
“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”
You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.
“-she won’t be needing the lute.”
“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”
He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira.
She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.”
You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.
You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.
“What was that?” you asked.
“What was what, darling?”
“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”
Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.
You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”
“And if I did?”
“Where?”
He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”
He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip.
“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”
You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”
He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”
He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine.
When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.”
“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.
He nodded.
You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”
“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”
You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”
“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”
You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.
Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”
“Darling, this is the best they had.”
“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.
He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.”
“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”
He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”
“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”
Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”
You snorted. “How’d that go?”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”
You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”
Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”
You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes.
You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.
“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”
“What are you looking for?” you asked.
“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.
You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”
“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent.
You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine.
“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food.
“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.
“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”
“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”
You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”
“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”
You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll.
Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large.
“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”
You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”
“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”
You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.
“Sorry again.”
Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”
This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.
“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine.
Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”
“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.
She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.
“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”
You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”
Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”
You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.
“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?”
You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.
Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.
“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”
She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip.
She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”
“Yes, mom.”
She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword.
“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”
Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.
“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”
“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”
Shadowheart snorted. “What?”
“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”
“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.
You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”
“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine.
“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.
Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”
You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”
“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”
You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.
Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”
“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled.
Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”
“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”
Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel.
“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.
“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”
“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”
You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.
“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”
“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate.
You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.”
Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.”
“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.
You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”
“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”
Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby.
Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.
Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”
Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.
“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.
You and Shadowheart laughed.
“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”
Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”
Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”
That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”
You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”
Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”
You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”
Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”
Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.
“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.
Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.
She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck.
He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”
Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”
“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed.
“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.
You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”
His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”
You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.
“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.
“Astarion,” you elbowed him.
Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”
Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”
You shook your head and Astarion laughed.
“No dear, I took her virginity.”
You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force.
“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.
“You will not,” he wheezed.
“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide.
Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.
“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”
“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”
Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless.
“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”
You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.
“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.
Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”
He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”
“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.
“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”
You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.
“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”
That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly.
“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”
“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”
Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.
“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”
You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”
Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”
Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent.
“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.
Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”
“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.
Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”
You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table.
He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”
“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple.
“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear.
You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple.
Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled.
You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”
You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.
Only to find it empty.
Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.
Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”
He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple.
His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head.
You were too shocked to say anything.
He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.”
“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips.
“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.
“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle.
He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”
You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look.
He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”
You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”
“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”
You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face.
“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.
“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed.
You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp.
A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.
It sounded distinctly childish.
You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal.
He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”
You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”
He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!”
You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”
Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”
“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”
He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”
“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”
The party grew silent.
Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”
You elbowed him. “Do it now.”
“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.
You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.
“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you.
As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”
“You can go.”
“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent.
Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”
You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.
“It’s time to go over your spoils.”
“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring.
“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”
You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other.
Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”
“So well,” Astarion corrected.
“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled.
Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.
You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”
Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”
“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”
Doni made a noise of agreement.
Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”
Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”
You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.
“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”
Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”
“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.
She grew quiet. “Sorry.”
“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”
“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.
The other seven raced off after him.
You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.
Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”
You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”
Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”
You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”
He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”
“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”
Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”
“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”
Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”
“I think you’re getting sloppy.”
“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.
Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”
“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry.
“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever.
“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”
The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.
“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”
You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”
Silfy giggled.
Withers didn’t budge.
You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.”
They snickered again.
You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.
“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”
“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him.
“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”
“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”
“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”
“He does count and that’s why he won!”
“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”
“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.
Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.
“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.
Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”
Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid.
You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”
Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”
Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Who’s next?” you asked.
Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”
You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.
He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”
You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”
He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”
“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”
“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.
You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question.
“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.
Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools.
Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”
Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”
Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.”
Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.
Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.
Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest.
“Why should I?”
“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head.
Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”
You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”
“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.
“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”
The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes.
He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”
You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”
Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.
He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush.
Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”
Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.
Astarion looked at the other kids.
Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”
You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”
He smiled and Arabella took his place.
She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”
Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”
Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”
Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”
Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.
Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”
Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold.
“Work on your poker face, darling.”
Arabella pursed her lips but nodded.
“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward.
Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk.
He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away.
Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand.
Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.
You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.
“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”
You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”
Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”
The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire.
He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.
“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”
“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed.
Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”
She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.
You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.
Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck.
“Oh,” you breathed out.
Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”
You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”
Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”
Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”
Mirkon giggled. “For who?”
Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head.
Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”
“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”
“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”
The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”
You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.
He scoffed. “I did not!”
You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”
“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.
Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.
It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings.
You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”
He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily.
You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?”
Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.
You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”
Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”
You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”
“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”
You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway.
Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”
“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”
Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”
You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”
“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”
“Be right back,” you said.
As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.
“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”
“My father was a bat.”
“Cool, can you fly?”
“No.”
Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”
“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”
“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”
You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”
Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”
“You got it,” you confirmed.
He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”
“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.
“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.
“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”
“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.
Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.
“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.
“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.
“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive.
“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.
“Of course,” Gale lied.
Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”
Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.
The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.
Astarion rolled his eyes.
Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.
“Who’s first?” he asked.
Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.
“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”
Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”
Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”
You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”
“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”
You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”
The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.
“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”
“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile.
“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.
Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels.
“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed.
Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe.
They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.
Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”
One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale.
“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.
Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”
You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”
He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”
“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear.
When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.
“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.
Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”
You and Gale gasped dramatically.
“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.
Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”
Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.
“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”
“Charming,” Astarion said flatly.
You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.”
As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path.
“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded.
“Damn right!” she said proudly.
The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city.
You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale.
Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”
Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”
“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”
“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”
“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.
“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”
“I’d be happy to-”
Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”
You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.
You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”
Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”
Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”
“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”
Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”
You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”
Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”
You and Gale laughed.
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”
“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.
Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”
You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”
He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.
You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.
Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”
“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”
“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”
When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you.
“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.
You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”
Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.
Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.
“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”
“We got them back!” you argued.
“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”
You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”
He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”
“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places.
You yawned. “Oh yeah?”
Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?”
You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”
You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”
“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song.
You looked at him curiously. “What about you?”
“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”
“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased.
“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”
“Alright.”
“I mean, look at me.”
“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”
Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”
You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”
His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.
You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I await on baited breath, my love.”
~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.
#astarion#astarion ancunin#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x you#astarion x female reader#astarion x f!reader#astarion x bard!reader#astarion x inexperienced!reader#astarion x tav#astarion smut#astarion fanfic#soft astarion#baldur's gate 3 fanfic#bg3 fanfic#my writing#mine#beauty and the bard#cheeks all flushed part 1#apologies if i missed any tags/content warnings#i hope you guys enjoy the shenanigans#they were a blast to write!#i have a few ideas for possible future installments#but let me know if you have a specific scenario you'd like to see these goofs in#:)
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I've been having so much fun with my Ace Attorney comics lately but I've been feeling the pull to do original stuff again. So to ease into the transition, here is my (very first!) comedy zine. You may spot some familiar faces B)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/226348ea1f9f5e88dced4dcb3bb66438/a28b41404cb2bdd3-2a/s540x810/031f87816ae6c7440d1e848e1cd0f8471dc8554f.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f07548a421d20bc695a446103bf8941c/a28b41404cb2bdd3-d5/s540x810/36915b4dc63e931f54229dd3e70e0413811eb34b.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f25226952410d693a2391c322bfbc451/a28b41404cb2bdd3-be/s540x810/e59e8189ca7c9e4ff809ad70f549d5aff69c5346.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d7bff8e138081a007d847c82adbfb398/a28b41404cb2bdd3-69/s540x810/06e3402e90bc88a1ea872ff664768e8773528ade.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4a821150599386b5b9f9294865879e4c/a28b41404cb2bdd3-87/s540x810/449b39a2c24e6ba3ee0aad26c34903dc690da9cb.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6814319e371165b5fd29393e94c15db8/a28b41404cb2bdd3-f8/s540x810/43d4bdb8604d5094152c22d1592a877eae37e304.jpg)
Thanks for reading my goofiness! I'm including some nerd thoughts about zines under the cut
Zines are sooo cool and I assume most people have heard of them since this is tumblr BUT if you haven't! Zine is short for magazine (pronounced "zeen" it does not rhyme with vine). It usually refers to handmade pamphlets that can be created by folding and cutting a single sheet of paper, which is what I did, but it can be used for any sort of self made publication. The goal is to make something that can be reprinted and shared so mine is technically not in the spirit of that because of all my little interactive details but shh that's fine. Zines have been used in sooo many ways (Was Martin Luther's 95 theses not in a way the first zine (this is a joke)) but they are especially recognized as part of the punk movement as a way of fighting back against mainstream media and of sharing information around! It was a way to get around censorship and spread the word about social movements and political messages buuuut it has also always been used to share fun things, like music recommendations OR FAMOUSLY. STAR TREK SPOCK KIRK FAN FICTION (this is real and there are academic papers about this). Some of the earliest m/m fanfic was passed along through zines because they did not have ao3 back then! All they had was a typewriter and a dream! It's actually sooo silly, but I took a class in college that heavily emphasized these zines as leading to the fandom culture we had today, so they really did shape the world we live in today. Tumblr posts are like our own little zines that we share, with our own messages and thoughts and yes even hand drawn gay people...
Anyway, like I mentioned, in these fandom spaces you had queer zines that were about explicitly romantic and sexual relationships between fictional men. At the time, slash shipping was not the most common way to engage with fandom, but today it has become very mainstream and widely accepted amongst the fandom. But you know what queer behaviors are still not mainstream within fandom spaces, even within queer fandom spaces? Aro ace rep babyyyy. With that in mind, I feel like what is considered radical and abnormal these days in queer fandom spaces is to engage with fictional men (or any characters) from an aromantic or asexual lens. And so I am here to hold your hand and walk you through the wonderful radical world of imagining non-romantic scenarios with fictional guys. You can have so much fun with it and I think more people should do it. What if you stood in line at the bank and your favorite anime man was in front of you. What if you had to go in for jury duty and the guy from five nights at freddy's was there. What if you went to the library and spock and kirk were both there researching the history of zines. In a world that expects us to prioritize one normative romantic and sexual relationship as the big thing that will bring you happiness and fulfillment, it is radical to say "actually, i could probably still be really happy and fulfilled if i had some cool friends to hang out with and do mundane things with. And also what if those friends were fictional lawyers."
Anyway. Thank you to all the spirk shippers who worked hard to get us here, I will pick up your mantle and continue to push against societal norms but with fewer sex scenes this time around. Not that you aren't valid for that, this is just personal preference. The end. Go make a zine everybody.
#rage against the machine by imagining yourself in a non romantic scenario with a fictional character! And then share it with me i wanna know#if only this was real. I would give my life to be able to complain about my job to Phoenix Wright. we would have so much fun#and although I love miles... I recognize he would never hang out with me unless I paid him. Gotta keep the fantasies realistic#i did want to call out also! When I started making it I was going to just do random girls on each page#so on the Link page I used a cut out from an old american girl magazine. But then the rest ARE me. So oops thematic inconsistency#my art#art zine#zine#comic#comics#nico di angelo#link botw#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#asexual#aro ace#aspec#aromantic#i love media i love the printing press i love the history of sharing information i love the written word yayyyy
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