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willowbelle · 1 month

Text

Silver Coin

law & showering together

❤︎ trafalgar law x reader ❤︎ (no pronouns mentioned) 𖤐₊˚.༄ (fluff, suggestive, 18+ only) 𖤐₊˚.༄

cw/summary: law helps you shower after an exhausting day. established relationship. showering together, law washes you, kissing, reassurance, suggestive, fluff, fluff, fluff. poetic. sweet law.

word count: 1,200

tagging: @bby-deerling @risenwrites @strawheart-pirate @uchihabbynic @nina-ya @mandiemegatron@shamblespirate@eelnoise@maddddstuff @lowkeycasanova @stuckinthewrongworld @laylaloves-ed @leftladyluminary

Silver Coin

Beneath the starlit sky, the balcony atop the Polar Tang becomes your silent sanctuary, a haven of tranquility amidst the vastness of the frigid ocean. Exhaustion weighs heavy upon your shoulders, like lead on your limbs. Yet, as you stand beneath the soft glow of the moon, its luminous presence brings a unexpected comfort that eases the weariness from your bones.

The sound of the sub slicing through the icy waters below is a constant murmur; the gentle rhythm of waves lulling your weary heart to a state of calm.

Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, his warmth enveloping you like some sort of protective cloak. He wraps his arms around your waist, drawing you close, and together you gaze up at the moon, its soft glow casting a gentle light upon your faces.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, “That silver coin in the sky?”

You nod in agreement, a small smile gracing your lips as you lean back into his embrace.

Soon enough, the exhaustion comes, heavy and relentless. Your limbs ache and your eyelids droop with weariness; even the simple act of standing becomes a herculean task.

If he weren’t there, you feel as though you’d fall.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs, his voice filled with concern as he senses your fatigue.

You manage a weak nod, your voice barely a whisper as you reply, "Just tired. It's been a long day."

He tightens his embrace, offering silent reassurance as you lean more heavily into him, seeking refuge from the overwhelming exhaustion that threatens to consume you.

"I understand," he whispers softly, “Would you like me to help you wash up before bed?”

You manage a tired smile, "That would be wonderful.”

With gentle hands, he guides you towards the bathroom, his touch a comforting anchor in the sea of your weariness.

----

Law takes a moment to light a few candles, their flickering flames casting a soft, golden glow across the bathroom. He reaches over to turn off the harsh overhead lights, leaving only the warm illumination of the vanilla wax to guide your way.

The warmth of the shower beckons, promising relief from the ache in your bones and the fog in your mind. With a gentle touch, Law turns on the water, adjusting the temperature until it's just right.

Stepping in together, you shed the burdens of the day.

As the warm water cascades over your tired form, you feel the weight of exhaustion begin to melt away, replaced by a soothing sense of comfort. You lean into Law, grateful for his strong arms that encircle you, offering support and solace in equal measure.

"I've got you," he murmurs softly, his voice a gentle reassurance in the quiet of the bathroom.

Feeling his arms around you, and the reassurance in his tone, you let out a small sigh of relief, "Thank you.”

As the tension in your muscles begins to loosen, the cares of your troubles fade into the background, trading places with something new--intimacy, vulnerability.

With a silent invitation, you tilt your head back slightly, drawing Law closer to you. Responding to your unspoken request, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You respond equal fervor, your lips moving in sync like a silent dance.

“Mm, Law,” you whine softly.

You’re so close its as if your hearts are beating as one--allconsuming, intertwined.

His hands roam gently over your skin, tracing the contours of your body with a foreign tenderness that sends shivers down your spine.

Beneath the gentle spray of the shower, his touch ignites a fire within you, melting away any remnants of fatigue.

"I love you," Law whispers against your lips, his voice filled with sincerity.

As the kiss deepens, you find yourself lost in the moment, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours. In the quiet intimacy of the bathroom, surrounded by the soothing sound of water cascading around you, there is nothing else left to say but,

“I love you,” you smile against his mouth.

Moments later, he takes a sponge in his tattooed hand, lathering it with soap before trailing it over your skin. His touch is gentle, yet firm, as he washes away the dirt and fatigue of the day, his movements slow and deliberate.

"You're so tense," he murmurs.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax into his touch, the tension in your muscles melting away beneath his ministrations. Each stroke of the sponge is like a gentle caress, igniting a spark of warmth deep within your soul.

As he reaches up to wash your back, you feel a shiver run down your spine, the sensation both soothing and electrifying. His touch is intimate, yet reverent, a silent declaration of his love for you.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Law.”

“I’m not done, yet,” he chuckles softly against your nape, “Need to wash that hair of yours.”

With gentle hands, he guides you under the spray of the water, his fingers massaging shampoo into your hair with a new type of tenderness.

As his fingers work through your hair, you feel the knots and tangles begin to loosen, the sensation of his touch both soothing and invigorating.

You lean into his touch, relishing in the intimacy of the moment as he tends to you with such care and attention. His hands move with a practiced ease, each movement deliberate and precise, and it makes you chuckle to yourself; his meticulous doctor title never falters.

You hum softly, melting into him, “That feels good, Law.”

He smiles in response, his eyes filled with affection as he continues to work the shampoo through your hair. "I'm glad," he replies softly.

As he rinses away the suds, you feel a sense of lightness wash over you, as if that lead weight has been lifted from your shoulders. It’s a simple pleasure, but one you wouldn’t trade for anything; being cared for by the man you love.

With a gentle beckon, Law guides you out from beneath the showerhead, the warmth of the water gradually subsiding as he wraps you in a fluffy towel.

You lean into his touch, relishing in the tenderness of his embrace. "That shower was exactly what I needed," you admit.

He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin.

"Anything for you," he replies softly.

----

Law gently helps you into your pajamas before taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. As you settle into the sheets, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Just close your eyes and relax. I'll hold you all night," he whispers softly.

With his comforting words, you allow yourself to surrender to the embrace of sleep, the gentle swaying of the sub lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

Despite the aches,

the pains that weigh heavy,

And the days that won’t end,

You find solace in knowing you will always have Law,

To wash away your burdens,

And love you for all that you are

under the watchful gaze of the silver moon.

667 notes · View notes

nyrandrea · 7 months

Note

No because he is as well, I adore the way he was written!! I was the same gigglin n kickin my feet each n everytime 😭

But can I ask for a request then, so say reader n Astarion ( plus two others ) are in an fight and reader just gets badly injured n knocked out and he just loses it killing anyone in his path to get to reader caring about them agshdudisowowi

Thanks so much for the request! I had quite a bit of fun writing this prompt.

Few warnings for canon-typical violence, blood, injury and animal death. Yyyyeah it is quite the doozy.

Word Count - 1.9k

Hope you enjoy!

xxx

The moon hung low in the starlit sky, its pale light casting ghostly shadows upon a narrow, winding mountain path. You and your party had been travelling all day as you wanted to cover more considerable ground to make up for time lost due to camping. However, the physical toll it was taking on everyone was starting to show as you all moved cautiously through the rugged terrain.

Lae’zel was understandably the most resilient of the group, her tough demeanor betrayed only by the beads of sweat that trailed down her knitted eyebrows as she focused on conquering the path ahead. Shadowheart seemed to be driven purely by spite just to keep up with the githyanki; you almost had to fight her a few times just to get her to stop and catch her breath before she keeled over.

You were feeling pretty run down yourself, every step felt heavier as time dragged on and your muscles were screaming at you to stop, but if you made it to that rock, to that tree, just over the hill, across the river, only then could you rest.

You said that about ten rocks and five rivers ago.

“That’s it!” A familiar voice shouted out from behind you, and you instinctively rolled your eyes. “I can’t take this anymore.”

Turning around, you were greeted with the sorry sight of Astarion collapsing onto his knees and huffing for breath, and it seemed as if he wasn’t going to get back up anytime soon.

“Astarion-”

“Don’t you ‘Astarion’ me with that... little disappointed pout of yours,” the vampire said. “I am literally on my knees begging here, darling. We need to stop for the night.”

“As sad as your little theatrics are,” Shadowheart walked over to the two of you and smirked down at him before turning to you. “He does have a point. We’ve been walking all day; I think I lost all feeling in my feet about half an hour ago.”

“And you say he is the dramatic one?” Lae’zel cut in, sneering down at you from a higher ledge. “Look at you all, complaining like children. This is nothing compared to-”

“Yes, yes, you have endured a horrendous array of training throughout your arduous upbringing on the Astral Plane that has transformed you into the fearsome warrior you are today; we get it,” Astarion said sarcastically, earning a snort of laughter from Shadowheart and a scowl from yourself. “But I for one am not made of pure titanium and would like to rest.”

“Fine,” Lae’zel growled. “But if the ghaik tadpole decides to turn your insides out because of your time wasting, then I shall be all too happy to end your life.”

“It’s a deal, darling.”

With everyone in agreement, you relieved yourself of your heavy backpack and quickly got to work on setting up a makeshift camp. Dinner was a small, cooked rabbit to share, while Astarion waited patiently for you to finish until you let him drink his fill. You didn’t miss the concerned glance shared between Shadowheart and Lae’zel but said nothing.

As the darkness deepened and the others retired for the evening, you decided you didn’t quite want to go to sleep quite yet— a decision you were probably going to regret come morning. Regardless, the stars were out tonight, and you weren’t certain when you might next get to enjoy them during this treacherous journey, if ever.

The tadpole behind your eye wriggled slightly, and you were worried it was going to waste your night with a migraine and unwanted whispers, but instead it settled down. You huff a sigh of relief; you were spared, for tonight anyway.

Despite the sky above being a sight to behold, your eyes couldn’t help but keep wandering down. Astarion was sitting across from you, his eyes creased and lips in a tight line as he concentrated on the ghastly book spread across his lap. The Necromancy of Thay had been his focus of attention for these past few nights, and you were honestly starting to worry a little for him. Sure, it was you who had given it to him in the first place (after he practically begged you for it), but the way he hyper focused on it at times was... concerning, to say the least.

You clear your throat, hoping to catch his attention.

It doesn’t work; you try again.

“Oh, do shut up...!”

His sharp tone makes you recoil slightly, and the vampire mirrors you, glancing between you and the book with widened eyes.

“O-Oh no, I didn’t mean you, my dear. It’s this blasted book,” Astarion says, frowning down at it like a disappointed parent. “I can’t make heads or tails of the damn thing.”

“Do you... need some help?” You meekly offer, even though you didn’t know the first thing about necromancy; some things were just best left untouched in your opinion.

“You’re a sweetheart,” he breathes out a little chuckle. “But no.” He allows the book to close with a heavy thump before his eyes trail back up, lingering on you for a moment. “But I could do with a... little distraction.”

As the fire crackles and pops, your cheeks flare up as Astarion slowly crawls his way around, not stopping until he is only inches away from you. Not quite knowing what to do or where to look, your body goes stiff as he slowly leans in towards you.

“What do you think, hm?” he purrs, his knuckle softly caressing your cheekbone as he brushes away a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Shall we have a little fun?”

You nod shyly and allow him to draw you in as he cups your face and brushes his lips against yours, only to suddenly stiffen and pull away. A surge of panic jabs up from under your ribs as you’re worried that, somehow, you’ve done something to hurt him or put him off.

“I-I’m sorry!” You blurt out. “Are you okay?”

He eases your fretting by smoothing down your arms with an almost amused expression. “No, it’s not you, never you, I can’t stress that enough but there’s... something-,” he frowns and sniffs the air.

Oh Gods, did you stink? You knew it had been a while since you last washed but…

No, his attention was away from you as he quickly got to his feet and focused on what appeared to be a large boulder of sorts, about ten feet away from where you lay.

Astarion’s eyes widen, and for the first time in a long time, he looks terrified.

“Shit, he’s found me again. We’ve got to leave, now!”

Suddenly, like vipers striking from the shadows, a group of monster hunters descended upon you, the night erupting into chaos as they sprang into action with ruthless efficiency. Swords and daggers glinted ominously in the dim firelight as you and the others desperately tried to defend yourselves.

Fear and confusion gripped the group as you fought back against your assailants, but the element of surprise was with the ambushers. They moved with a deadly grace; their tactics honed through countless skirmishes. The clash of steel and cries of anguish pierced the night air.

Desperation fueled your resistance, but they outnumbered you five to one, and that was without including their attack dogs, who had taken to separating you from the rest of the group as their personal prey. You jab your sword at their snapping maws, shout and try to make yourself look big to fend them off or, at the very least, make them think twice about attacking you.

However, none of it seems to work as one takes a lunge at you and sinks their jaws into your arm. The jolt of shock quickly wore off to the searing heat of pain as the dog tugged and shook you like a rag doll, the beast spurred on by the snarls and barks of the others before they joined in on the mauling.

You tried to scream but it hurt to even breathe, reducing you to mere gasping as your limbs throbbed and your head pounded. You thought you heard screaming, but the chaos of the battle muffled your senses as if you were being held underwater. You fall flat on your back as you’re pinned down to the ground, your eyes fluttering as something hot, wet and slimy drips onto your cheeks. Your eyes are met with a row of fangs; you shut them quickly, unwilling to look your death in the face.

In that moment, an anguished cry cuts through the noise, and your eyes snap open.

The next few moments are a blurry, bloody mess; primal and violent as you can just make out different voices—the hunter’s voices— crying out in pain along with the sound of wet tearing, of fangs ripping into flesh and blood splattering across the ground. You can only stare ahead, eyes wide with fear and body numb as the heavy weight on your chest is suddenly lifted. There’s a pitiful whine and a crunching snap, and the carnage finally stops.

After a few moments of unbearable silence, your jumbled thoughts immediately go to your teammates, and you try to push yourself up to go help them. They were probably hurt, or worse, dead. You had to get up. Just... get up!

‘Get up!’

“Get up goddamn you!”

Your blurred vision slowly cleared as you blinked away your tears, and a familiar, blood-splattered face came into view. Gods but Astarion looked so afraid; his red eyes were wet, and his bottom lip quivered ever so slightly as he gently slid his hands under your broken body to help you sit up.

“Oh, thank the Gods,” he whispered. “He... he will not take you away from me. I won’t let him.” He looks over his shoulder and shouts, “Cleric, get over here now!”

His lips curled into a snarl as Shadowheart dropped to her knees beside you, as if he was frustrated that she wasn’t healing you quick enough. As if to confirm, he snaps at her to hurry up.

“Shouting at me isn’t going to make the process go any quicker, I need to concentrate,” Shadowheart bit back, before her gaze softened upon you as a golden light washed out from her hands and over your body. “Just hold on a little longer, okay?”

“She is right, you must calm yourself,” Lae’zel softly ordered Astarion as she knelt by your other side. “You have already taken your rage out on the enemy, do not let it overtake you.”

Astarion said nothing as he focused solely on you, whispering hushed promises and honeyed words that got jumbled through your dazed state, but you appreciated them all the same. You tried to show him this by curling your stiff fingers around his, the coolness of his skin bringing a brief respite to your burning hot hands. He breathes out a sad, broken chuckle and reciprocates your gesture with a soft kiss to your fingers.

The moon bore witness to the tragedy, casting its cold, indifferent light upon the scene, but you thought it shone beautifully, all the same.

xxx

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #request #fanfiction #my writing #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel

879 notes · View notes

jaquemuses · 3 months

Note

i’m an angst comfort GIRL so if you would be interested in writing anything maybe about childhood friends enzo and reader where it’s right people wrong time for years ( definitely mutual feelings, maybe reader always thought enzo was too good for them so they never really thought they had a chance but is oblivious to the fact that enzo was head over HEELS for them but was worried about dragging them into the spotlight as he grew more famous) until they finally end up together i’d be thrilled!! ofc no matter what thank you so much!! have a great day/night!!❤️❤️

GIRL ME TOO !!! so glad you requested it, i wrote this, hope u enjoy it ♡♡

Starry night | Enzo Vogrincic

Synopsis: Sharing feelings has always been challenging, but under the starry sky, sitting right beside his childhood friend on the eve of his movie premiere party, Enzo confesses a love that has lingered his heart since he was seven.

Word count: 1.5k

Content: Enzo Vogrincic/Reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluffy overall, no explicit content, focus on emotions, and strong affection for Enzo, references to ghibli's movies.

a/n: hi there !! i hope you guy enjoy this i pulled an all nighter just to write it lmaooo so bear with me if there's any typos or such; english isn't my first language, but I hope it's a good read!

- xoxo Kara ♡

Time slips away so quickly.

Beneath the starry sky, the weight of its passing moments engulfs you like a fuzzy tidal wave, heavy and suffocating. Sinking beneath its weight has become your routine.

A soft, resigned sigh escapes your lips, the midnight air crisp on your tongue, turning into vapor in the summer night. Beyond your sight, stars burn in tandem, the cosmos vast and immersive. The moon, tonight, is a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling tenderly, casting a soothing glow like a mother's voice.

In the familiarity of the sight, there's comfort. The moon, always there, in crescents or hidden by clouds, a constant in a changing world. What a peculiar and lovely thing it is to be under the celestial dance, where even the moon, with its timeless presence, seems to join the ever-moving cosmic ballet.

As you lay on the rooftop, the distant melody of music from the house below reaches your ears. It's a reminder of shared laughter, playful banter, and the bond you once had with Enzo. The thought of losing him, not just as a childhood friend but as this life partner makes you wanna cry right there.

Another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. Time keeps passing you by, never stopping —seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again.

and, really, it's a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you're so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it

The music serves as a soundtrack to your memories, a bittersweet symphony echoing through the night. Enzo, your companion through the years, feels like he's slipping away, and the weight of that potential loss is heavy against the backdrop of the starlit sky.

But even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life

one thing remains the same;

"Ah, there you are," Enzo's voice, honeyed and familiar, breaks the silence. A small smile graces your lips at the sight of him.

That voice...

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges, just a little husky. Deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you're sure you'd still remember it. That familiar voice. It sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

A turn of your head. it's a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. You do it as if it's the only thing worth hearing.

And Enzo is smiling, when your eyes meet his. That gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. The one that always puts your mind at ease.

"How'd you know I'd be up here?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Lucky guess," Enzo replies, his grin revealing the comfort of shared moments.

Of course, he knew. Tracking you down was his thing, always has been. Like that time when he found you concealed under a table at your twelfth birthday party or the time he discovered you teary-eyed in the woods during your school field trip.

Finding you always comes easy to Enzo. Almost like he's always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. You go south, and he follows, you go north, and he's already waiting up ahead.

"Damn, how'd you know?" you playfully pout, looking into him.

"I always know, silly" Enzo confesses softly, his eyes holding a warmth that speaks volumes. "I've known you since we were seven"

A gentle inhale passes between you as the silence settles, the moon casting its glow on your shared history.

"I thought you might be too busy with, you know, the whole famous actor thing," you admit trying to make it a joke but insecurity creeps into your words. "Congratulations on that, i always knew you'd make it"

The whole party underneath you both was for Enzo, you felt kind of stupid for leaving so suddenly, after all tonight's was Enzo's night. But before he realized it, you had slipped away, seizing the chance as soon as others grew too drowsy to take notice.

But he always notices you.

And he's worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself but truthfully it's more than that.

You look small, enzo thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you'd always go to on nights when you couldn't sleep. Together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again. Back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he's ever known.)

The distance between you grows narrower, as enzo makes his way over to you - and it always does, at the end of the day. No matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. One of you always moves closer. As if it's unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other's orbit.

Enzo sits down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. It's natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. It reminds you of the gentle lapping of the ocean waves of Punta del este at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days when you were 10 and went to a trip with your parents and Enzo's, comforting and familiar. A warmth that never goes away.

The moon bathes the rooftop in a gentle glow as Enzo chuckles in response to your teasing remark. "Busy? Yeah, it gets a bit crazy, but it's moments like these that remind me of what truly matters. And you know im never too busy for you." He shifts, a thoughtful expression on his face, as he gazes at the city below.

A brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. The scent that always lingers on Enzo's skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other's clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. Cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

Leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, youet a fond exhale slip from your lips. Barely audible. And Enzo mimics it.

The silence between you is a comfortable one. Always has been. A little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long —usually you, though enzo isn't much better. But this time, he stays silent.

He's waiting. You know he is, because he always does.

He's waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. Waiting for you to say something, tell him what's wrong, explain why you're up here instead of celebrating with the others. Waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

Enzo is nothing if not patient. So he waits, unbothered by the silence. Admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. A vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can't stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

An insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart

—but he can't, not unless you let him.

A sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. Deep and heavy, ike a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. The silence breaks.

"En...?"

The guy stays quiet, just humming inquisitively. He avoids eye contact, showing respect. He figures you'll spill what's on your mind more comfortably without him staring.

Your fingers lightly tap the rooftop tiles out of habit. You take in a bit of the midnight air—it's got that summer taste. "Remember how we first met?"

Enzo glances at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. He can't resist the urge to peek at your face, savoring your expression. Then, a chuckle escapes him. "Are you feeling sentimental?" he teases, a playful note in his voice, light and airy like seafoam. "Did you come out here just to reflect?"

The corners of his lips lift when he hears you huff, pulling your legs closer with a furrowed brow. Cheek pressed against your kneecap, you meet his gaze.

"Come on," you whine, pouting childishly, a trick you know will make him give in. "Just indulge me a little."

Enzo smiles, soft around the edges, radiating unmistakable fondness. He always indulges you. "Of course I do," he assures you.

The quiet settling between your words holds a tender understanding, a silent agreement.

"Of course, I remember. How could I forget? You broke into my backyard."

A sigh, weighty and pointed, escapes your lips. Enzo fights back a grin; his eyes dance with teasing mischief in the darkness as you shoot a glare his way.

"Okay, first of all," you begin, "I didn't break into anything. I climbed over the fence. Peacefully."

Enzo raises a brow. "That literally doesn't matter; it's still trespassing."

"I was seven years old!"

"Damn! Some of you criminals start young."

Another playful huff escapes you as you halfheartedly attempt to sound annoyed. Unsuccessful, you hide your growing smile by tucking your face into your knees. "Whatever."

Then your gaze shifts, drawn to the expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon like a moth to a flame, helpless to its charms. It resembles a giant sponge cake, reminiscent of the ones you and Enzo used to make when that was the only recipe you knew – you'd eat from the batter, and he'd scold you. Then he'd do the same when your back was turned.

A smile graces your lips. In each star, a new memory unfolds, and the warm nostalgia surrounding you makes your heart feel exposed. "I just wanted to pet Ada" you reminisce, softly rememberig how little the cat was back then.

Enzo nods, his gaze directed at you, reveling in the expression on your face – tranquil and at ease, a bit more of yourself. Effortlessly lovely, bathed in moonlight. "Yeah, I remember."

He lets the memory carry him away for a moment or two, recalling the sight of you all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. It was as if you had fallen from the sky – quiet and shy, yet with an excited glimmer in your eyes as you looked at his cat.

"You just pointed to her and expected me to understand," he continues, a grin blooming on his face, hopelessly endeared. "You were so shy back then."

A raise of your eyebrow. "Um? I'm still shy?"

Enzo gives you a look. He doesn't have to say anything – it's written all over his face. The classic Vogrincic look, the kind where you can tell he's itching to say, "Oh, really now?" The kind where he tries to appear judgmental but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, and Enzo smiles once more, utterly captivated by your joy.

"Then we watched movies at my place,"

You hum. "It was fun."

"Yeah," he agrees.

Another spell of silence descends, tender and incredibly precious. The air is cool but not enough to make you shiver – a mild summer night, gentle on your skin and light on your heart. A soft breeze tousles your hair, and in the distance, cicadas buzz – a familiar, unchanging sound.

(If only everything else could remain the same, too.)

"Do you remember what movie it was?"

A lazy smile graces Enzo's lips as he turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised.

"Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to make m–"

"I just wanna reminisce."

Enzo pauses, observing your gaze as it wanders across the landscape, from the moon to the distant city lights. Absentmindedly fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie, you seem a bit lost, your eyes forgotten within the depths of the endless night sky.

No more teasing, he decides, choosing a more delicate approach. He answers your question softly, as if each octave of his voice could potentially cause you harm. "Whisper of the Heart," he reveals.

A little nod follows your hum of agreement. "Thats a top-tier one."

Enzo shifts his gaze away, muttering something under his breath. Still audible, though. "Spirited Away takes the cake..."

Catching a glimpse of your unimpressed look, he suppresses a soft laugh. His teeth graze his lip gently, just enough to avoid any sting.

"You're so basic," you playfully grin.

"You just want to feel special," Enzo retorts, quick on the uptake. "And you only like it because of Seji."

"You're only a Spirited Away fan because of Haku!"

Enzo closes his eyes, leans back a bit, crossing his arms in a somewhat childlike manner – a move aimed at drawing out laughter. "I don't know what you're talking about," he pretends.

"Oh, come on," you scoff. "Do you really think I've forgotten your sudden "enlightenment"?"

"Hm? What's that?" Feigning confusion, Enzo puts a hand to his ear, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "You'll have to come closer; I can't hear you from here."

Another unimpressed look accompanies your exhale, a mix of a scoff and a chuckle. "If I get any closer, I'll be in your lap, goofball."

Enzo bites his cheek gently, holding back the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(He wouldn't mind)

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" A playful nudge meets his shoulder as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

The banter fades away as quickly as it came. Then, smiles break out across both your faces simultaneously, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere. Doesn't it always when you're gazing at the starry sky with the one you love most?

As Enzo continues, his voice takes on that softer tone once again—the one thats only reserved for you. "I always liked imagining us as them," he confesses. "Me as Haku, and you as Chihiro."

A soft blink, and your smile sweetens like syrup. "...That's amusing," you cross your legs, palms flat against the roof, knee comfortably leaning against Enzo's. "I always thought of us as Seiji and Shizuku."

There's a distant look in your eyes, something Enzo can't look away from. Tentatively, his fingers press into the skin of his palms, and he speaks, absentminded and a bit uncertain. ".. they get married at the end, don't they?"

A pause, then your gaze locks onto Enzo's, suddenly mischievous – and he regrets opening his mouth.

"Oh?" you purr, almost beaming, closing the distance like a

predator sizing up its prey. "Oh, really? Is this a proposal, Mr. Vogrincic?"

"I'm just stating facts" he quips, hands raised in defense, hoping you won't notice the red tint creeping up his neck, hidden by the night.

"Incorrect facts," you grin. Whether you catch the blush or not, you don't mention it. "They get engaged, not married. Big difference."

Enzo huffs, small, trying to suppress a smile. The beat of his heart is faint, a gentle rhythm stirred by every move you make. He pushes back the words he longs to say. "I wouldn't mind that, either."

Once again, silence envelops you, weaving around the space between you. It's comforting, just being like this; you and your best friend under the moon's soft glow. As if you're the sole inhabitants of an otherwise vacant universe, free from space and time.

Like the night could pause and stretch on forever.

Yet, there's an unspoken question lingering. One Enzo is still waiting for you to answer. One you won't address until he does the same.

Both of you have noticed, even if no one else has – the turmoil in your eyes, the fatigue under his. Those subtle signs of stress as everything around you keeps twirling on, as the future approaches with every passing day.

"Remember how school felt like it would last forever, and now... it's all just a blur."

Enzo's eyes light up with nostalgia. "Yeah, the days when we believed we could conquer the world. Time goes by so quickly." He pauses, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "But hey, we had some pretty great adventures."

A soft laugh escapes you. "Adventures, mischief, and a fair share of detentions. I miss those days."

Enzo grins, "Our secret base, the pranks we pulled, and the dreams we shared. Life was simpler back then."

You sigh, "Simpler, but full of possibilities. Now everything feels like it's rushing by, and I can't keep up."

Enzo reaches for your hand, offering a comforting squeeze. "You're not alone in feeling that way. I miss the simplicity too, but some things haven't changed." He looks into your eyes, his gaze holding a depth of emotions.

"Yeah, your talent and that dream that's not a dream anymore En. Its now your reality, and I'm so proud of you, I'd always knew you'd make it" You said with a nostalgic smile on your face.

Deep down, you knew you'd end up losing him; he had everything to succeed in the industry.

Enzo meets your gaze, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart... It means a lot to hear that from you."

As Enzo utters the endearment "sweetheart," a fluttering sensation courses through your stomach, a delicate dance of butterflies that seems to synchronize with the newfound warmth in your chest. With a surge of emotions enveloping you, you can't help but wrap your arms around Enzo's body, hugging him tightly and feeling the size difference between the both of you. A murmured "of course" escapes your lips.

The moonlight paints a soft glow around you both, and the distant sounds of the party create a gentle background melody. Enzo takes a moment after the hug, collecting his thoughts, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a long time, You know?" He starts, catching your eye. "Oh look who's reflecting now" You say as you laugh softly. "What is it?"

"These moments, right here, remind me of the times when life was simpler, and we were just two kids dreaming under the same sky." He pauses, searching for the right words.

"You know, when we were younger, I used to take you to the cinema, to the lake, even on your 15th birthday... Each time, I wanted to tell you something important, but I never found the right moment. It's been on my mind, and I'm tired of postponing it."

Your heart quickens at his words, confusion mingling with anticipation. Enzo's expression shifts, becoming more serious yet tender.

"Do you remember those times? I was trying to say that..." He hesitates a little, his eyes looking straight into yours, noticing how every single star can fit on your gaze "I'm in love with you. From the days of our childhood adventures to now, you've always been the girl of my dreams. I wanted to share my success with you because you've been my constant, my anchor."

The weight of his confession hangs in the air, and your mind races to process the revelation. Enzo continues, "I know that recently the world sees me as this actor, but to you, I just want to be Enzo. The boy you've known since we were seven. I'm tired of hiding my feelings, and I didn't want to lose another moment without letting you know."

Silence stretches between you, the memories of your shared past intertwining with the present. You're caught between the familiarity of nostalgia and the unexpected confession, yet, suddenly, some things start to make sense.

Enzo's eyes search yours, vulnerable and earnest.

"En, wait... what do you mean? In love with me? Like, as a friend or...?" Your words trail off, searching for clarity.

Enzo takes a deep breath, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. You can feel him shaking. "No I mean, romantically in love with you. Since we were kids, I've tried to tell you, but I never found the right moment."

Your eyes widen, replaying moments in your mind. "Wait, are you saying all those times – the cinema, the lake, my 15th birthday – you wanted to confess your feelings?"

Enzo nods, a mix of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes. "Exactly. I kept hoping for the perfect moment, but life just kept moving too fast"

Your mind races, grappling with the revelation. Enzo continues, "What im trying to say is you've been the girl of my dreams since i can remember. I wanted to share my success with you, not just as an actor but as the person who's been my constant through it all."

Silence envelops the rooftop, the city of Montevideo below seemingly hushed in anticipation. Enzo looks at you, his expression a mosaic of hope and uncertainty.

After a moment of processing, you break into a soft laugh. "Enzo, this is... I... i just never saw this coming... oh my god"

With a warm smile, Enzo pulls you into a hug, and you reciprocate, embracing the familiarity of his presence. "Its okay if you dont feel the same... but I... I've just been carrying this for so long; it feels good to finally share it with you." He says with a sad tone.

As you're held in Enzo's embrace, the vulnerability of the moment encourages you to share your own feelings. "Enzo, no... Its not that, its just that I... I never thought you'd see me that way. I always felt like you were way too good for me, like I'd never be enough, so i always thought it'll be pointless to confess because you'll end up leaving me... And its just the thought of losing you as a friend and now knowing you've felt this way for so long, it's just overwhelming."

Enzo loosens the hug, gently holding your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. "You were always more than enough. I never wanted to risk our friendship, but holding back these feelings became harder as time went on. Our friendship means the world to me, and the fear of losing you kept me silent."

Tears glisten in your eyes as you continue, "I spent so many nights up here on this rooftop, wondering if I was just another friend among many for you. I never thought I could be the one you'd be in love with."

Enzo wipes away a tear with his thumb, a tender smile on his face. "You were never just another friend. You were the one who understood me, laughed with me, and stood by me through it all. And I've been in love with you since we were kids."

The weight of unspoken emotions finally laid bare, you share a bittersweet laugh. "Guess we were both too scared to ruin what we had."

Enzo nods, his hand now resting on your cheek. "Maybe, but holding back feels like a bigger risk now. I don't want to waste any more time, not when i don't know how much of it we have left"

As the moonlight bathes both of you, you take a deep breath and finally say, "Enzo, I've always been in love with you too."

A shared understanding and a newfound honesty linger in the air as Enzo leans in and his lips meets yours in a tender kiss, a culmination of years of unspoken emotions and shared moments. In that intimate exchange, the rooftop becomes a sanctuary for a new beginning, and just for that moment: time seems to stand still.

#enzo vogrincic x you #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic fluff #enzo vogrincic blurb #friends to lovers #childhood friends

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mydearlybeloathed · 5 months

Text

𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: zoro doesn't dance, but he has no issue in watching you twirl yourself off your feet. so long as you twirl back to him when your feet get tired.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x fem!dancer!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: use of Y/N, swearing, dancer!reader, fluff

He was terrified, but not terrified enough to deny that you held his very life in your hands. Zoro didn’t mind that, not at all; you were gentle and funny and lovely and kinder than he deserved. Yet, you were real, as he often was reminded when you carded your hands through his hair with a little laugh and a mumbled, “Dumbass.”

No, Roronoa Zoro was terrified of how much he’d grown accustomed to your entire being.

It was also mildly frightening that you knew fully well just what he would do for you. Zoro admitted, he never tried very hard to hide it, not after your quiet little confession of affection some months ago, under the starlit sky, the wind brushing your hair away to reveal your face.

He’d been yours long before then, but only now he didn’t care to hide his adoring stares and relished in the little way you hooked your pinky with his when you were nervous. How your eyes searched him out when you entered a room. How your kisses grew from shy to ravenous as your relationship progressed.

It was safe to say he was certain you were as infatuated as he was, if not more, though that was a heated topic of debate between the pair of you (“There’s no way you love me more than I love you.” “Wanna bet?” “Zo, I literally took a bullet for you.” “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to bring that up… Why the fuck—!”)

A grin ghosted over Zoro’s face at the memory, and how you’d just laughed as he scolded your reckless affection. His grin grew to a smile before he could cool his expression, and then the warmth of your palm was cupping his jaw, drawing his face closer to yours.

In the low light of the tavern, he swore you glowed. Or maybe it was the three shots of vodka in your system. Either way, you were an angel if Zoro ever knew one. An angel who blessed him with your touch and your teasing little smirk as you asked, “What’s got you smiling?”

“You,” he replied like a reflex. Leaning into your touch, he cast a look around the tavern, scoping out your other crewmates for signs of disturbance. Luffy and Usopp were at the bar, Nami was swindling a woman at the booth across from yours, and Sanji was charming up a brunette in the corner. None of the other patrons minded your crew, so Zoro allowed his shoulders to lose just a bit of their tension, and his hand drifted from his sword to your hand, tugging on it gently to urge you to sit beside him instead of across.

Giddy, you jumped up and hurried to his side, sliding in till your thigh was flush with his. Zoro’s body warmed as you leaned into him, not caring to ask as you took his arm and wrapped it around your shoulder, gazing up at him softly. Your comfortability filled him with confidence; how you moved with such familiarity in his presence, and how it contrasted from when you first met—it was enough to make his ribs crack just to have room for his rapidly expanding heart.

“Good answer,” you teased. You reached up to card your fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp and smirking wider as he grunted and closed his eyes. “Tired?”

Zoro huffed a laugh. “No.”

It was your turn to reminisce, watching as your swordsman melted before you, guard nowhere to be seen. Yours. Never would you have thought you’d actually get to call him that, but here you were, after all the odds and barriers of character.

You particularly enjoyed how he looked just now, eyes closed as you gazed up at him. Once upon a time, Zoro would whip around to make sure you never stood at his back, always ensuring you were nowhere near his blindspot. Now, you mused, he often slept with his back to your chest, your fingers trailing shivers up and down his arms.

Now, his dead eyed gaze didn’t instill you with paralytic nerves; you knew he was more bark than bite, at least with you.

Your dumbass.

“Oi, Y/N!” called Usopp, who had moved from the bar to the wide open space many used as a dance floor. The band of various instruments played a whimsical tune, the rhythm causing your knee to bounce in time.

You raised your brows. “Yep?”

Luffy wrung an arm around Usopp and laughed like a lunatic. “Come dance!”

Your eyes were droopy and honestly, you just wanted some sleep—but who were you to deny your captain? Besides, weren’t you the Strawhats’ resident deathly little dancer?

Casting your boyfriend a look only to find him pursing his lips, you giggled and kissed his frown away, escaping the booth in his brief surprise.

Zoro watched as you leapt to your feet and practically floated with the grace in your steps. As much as Zoro trained and as hard as he tried, he’d never been as graceful with a sword as you were now. Somehow, that made him love you more.

A fiddle and drum, a flute and dulcimer—from what Zoro could tell with his limited knowledge, the music was exactly your style. A lively sort of sound.

And as the music blossomed anew, Zoro spotted that tell tale sparkle in your eye; you had something up your sleeve, per usual, and as your toes started to tap against the ground he knew you’d be amazing, per usual.

Luffy’s enthusiasm drew attention, and soon enough a crowd had formed.

You clapped your hands in a steady rhythm, twirling around in the middle of a circle of people, their gazes trapped by your every move. The crowd soon mimicked your clapping. From the front of the circle, Luffy and Usopp cheered louder than the rest.

Zoro leaned this way and that to keep his eyes locked on you, but it became increasingly difficult as you drew them near like moths to a dancing flame.

With an arabesque leading into a balancé, you glanced over your shoulder and caught Zoro’s eye through the people. His heart stuttered.

You laughed, pure joy in your lungs, and shifted your style from more classical to something looser. You twirled and curved your arms in an “S” shape before pointing your foot and scraping it in the dirt in a wide Rond de Jambe. The movement was swift and agile as you continued to follow the flow of the music, completely in your element.

Mind elsewhere, Zoro hardly realized he’d stood up, not until he had forced his way through the crowd and stopped between Luffy and Usopp. The clapping all around him was deafening, only made worse by the sweet torture of your laugh.

Again, your eyes locked him in place as you swept toward him, only to take Luffy by the hands and twirl him around with you. Zoro scoffed and folded his arms over his chest, unable as ever to hide the smirk tugging at his face.

A giggle left you as Zoro’s face got lost in the whirl of your surroundings. You started a swing dance with Luffy, releasing him a second later to drag a newly approached Nami into the fun.

Your head spun and your feet ached—yet you would never feel happier than when you danced with your friends.

Well, you might’ve been a bit happier when dancing with your special green haired friend, but you knew him well. If you were to drag Zoro into the circle and dance him into the ground in front of all these people, he’d be compliant, but less than pleased.

No. When you danced with Zoro, it wasn’t like this; it was slow and steady, to the rhythm of nothing but the sea. It was deep in the belly of the Going Merry, when the crew was fast asleep, and the moon hung high. When you had the world to yourselves, and could sway in the hold of the other without interruption.

It was simple and plain, but it held a very special place in your heart.

Nami let you spin her around, rolling her eyes before she yelped as you pulled her in and dipped her low. She snorted into a laugh and stumbled a bit, grabbing your arms to keep you from whirling her around again.

Shooting her a wink as she all but ran back to the bar, you danced on light feet once more, starting up a roar of steady clapping.

Your swordsman stood in awe, his eyes desperate to catch as much of your radiance as he could, like you'd disappear at any moment. He always believed good things never last, but he’d die before he let this one end. Because you were Zoro’s best thing, and he refused to grow a similar policy surrounding best things.

So when you had spun off your balance and teetered off your feet, he was there, his arms scooping under yours and catching you against his chest. Out of breath, you looked up and found his eyes, letting the rest of your weight lean into him as he stood a steady post.

“Hey,” you giggled.

“Hi.” Zoro tilted his head. “Ready?”

You were back on your own feet in an instant, thoughts of a warm bed more enticing than dancing through to dawn. So you took his hand and beelined through the crowd, shoving your way through and dragging Zoro along. You winded up collecting Nami by the door, and waited up for Sanji too. The navigator and chef yawned in time, their eyes droopy.

You were no better, your steps lazy as you mindlessly followed after Zoro and the others. It felt as if you’d blinked and you were back on the Merry, gazing up at Zoro who only nudged you with his shoulder. “You up?”

You grunted in reply and promptly led the way to your shared cabin, throwing open the door and letting go of his hand. You plopped into the blankets and at once felt yourself melt into them. The bed dipped a second later. Rolling over, you grinned up at your boyfriend, finding him with his brows met.

“Gonna take off your shoes?” he asked, though it sounded more like an order.

“Yeah, yeah,” you huffed, lugging yourself back up to undo your laces and rip the offending apparel off. You turned to find him under the blanket, holding up one end to make you room, and you settled in beside him. Your head found its natural place on his chest, sleep just on the other side of the mental door, so to speak.

Lost in thought, you barely registered the words spilling from your lips. “I love you.”

It felt natural, like a breath you needed to survive. You wanted to say it again, then once more, and maybe again just for good measure.

Zoro stiffened, his face going an embarrassing shade of red, and he was grateful you weren’t able to see it from your place tucked against his side. He barely even breathed, wondering how much time had really passed since you’d uttered those worldbreaking words. It must’ve been longer than a few minutes; you were fast asleep, none the wiser.

He swallowed thickly and sank deeper into the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He’d deal with figuring out how to say it back in the morning, and decide whether it’ll be the full truth some time later. Or, that was the plan anyhow.

Zoro really couldn’t hold back how you consumed his thoughts—his deathly dancer—and he could deny it all he wanted, but Roronoa Zoro had fallen in love, and apparently, you had as well.

The swordsman grinned, pressing a kiss to your hairline and forcing his eyes shut. How he got so lucky to have you love him, he had no clue. All he knew was you made his life a sweet kind of complicated, and he wouldn’t want you any other way.

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xtra7s · 3 months

Text

𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧 (𝗪𝗟𝗪) ──── 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and y/x broke up a few years ago, falling out of contact instantly. Y/n is a photographer, and went to an event for a job, unaware it was for her ex girlfriend, Renee Rapp.

Content: Renee Rapp x female reader, pure fluff. Enjoy lovies.

Word Count: 955

masterlist

The glow of city lights danced on the horizon as Renee Rapp stood on the rooftop of a chic restaurant, her silhouette framed by the ambient glow. She was in the midst of a lively gathering, a celebration of a successful movie premiere where her talent shone both on-screen and through her vocal prowess in the film's soundtrack.

It was a night of accomplishments, a night she couldn't help but savor.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Y/N found herself in attendance, drawn by the allure of the event. As a photographer and a presence in the pop culture, she couldn't miss the chance to witness the culmination of the star's talents. Little did she know that the evening held more surprises in store, especially the fact that the event was centered on her ex girlfriend.

The night air carried a sense of anticipation, and as Renee moved gracefully through the crowd, she caught sight of a familiar face – Y/N. The years apart had done nothing to diminish the spark of recognition in Renee's eyes. There, amid the glamorous backdrop of the city, memories resurfaced like echoes of a familiar melody.

Renee could almost see the last interaction they had when she closed her eyes, the spilled maroon staining her dress, the anger in your eyes.

A cautious smile played on Y/N's lips as Renee approached. "Long time no see," she greeted, her voice carrying a blend of nostalgia and warmth.

Renee's smile mirrored Y/N's, and she replied, "Indeed. It's been a while."

The two stood there, caught in a moment suspended between the past and the present. A world of unspoken words lingered in the air, memories of laughter and shared dreams that had once defined their relationship.

"You look amazing, Renee," Y/N complimented, her gaze appreciating the elegant ensemble that adorned the actress-singer.

"Thank you," Renee replied, her eyes not veering away from Y/N's. "You look stunning, as always."

As the night progressed, the two found themselves drawn into a conversation that flowed effortlessly, dancing around the edges of the past without delving too deeply. They spoke of their respective journeys over the past two years, the highs, the lows, and the lessons learned along the way.

The rooftop offered a breathtaking view of the cityscape, the twinkling lights below creating a romantic backdrop to their reunion. Amid the laughter and animated chatter of the celebration, a sense of ease settled between Renee and Y/N.

As they shared stories and caught up on lost time, a gentle melody began playing in the background. The strains of a familiar tune filled the air,

'American Wedding' by Frank Ocean returning them both to the nights they spent moving around her living room in sync.

Renee's eyes twinkled as the music played, and she extended her hand to Y/N. "Care for a dance?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before accepting, allowing herself to be led into a cultivated dance under the starlit sky. The world around them faded into the background as they moved together, a silent conversation unfolding in the dance.

"It's surreal, isn't it?" Renee remarked as the faded out when her gaze fixed on Y/N's eyes.

"What is?" Y/N inquired, her heart beating in tandem with the gentle rhythm of the music.

"Being here with you, under the stars, like we're back in that apartment all those years ago," Renee confessed, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Y/N couldn't help but smile in return. "Life has a way of surprising us."

The dance continued, a seamless blend of shared memories and unspoken promises. In that moment, surrounded by the city's lights and the gentle embrace of the night, it felt like time had folded in on itself, bringing them back to a familiar space where the world seemed to pause.

As the music reached its final notes, Renee and Y/N found themselves standing close, the distance between them bridged by shared glances and the unspoken understanding that had always lingered beneath the surface.

"I'm glad we ran into each other tonight," Y/N admitted, her voice soft.

"Me too," Renee replied, her hand finding its way to Y/N's, their fingers intertwining. "Life is unpredictable, but sometimes it brings you back to where you're meant to be."

Y/N nodded, a warmth spreading through her. "Maybe we needed this."

The night continued, the celebration unfolding around them. Renee and Y/N remained in each other's company, navigating the delicate balance between the echoes of the past and the possibilities of the future.

As the event came to a close, Renee turned to Y/N with a sincerity that mirrored the sparkle in her eyes. "Can we do this again? Grab a coffee, catch up without all of this?" Renee asks hopefully, gesturing to the party happening around you.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in the simplicity of the suggestion. "I'd like that."

And so, against the backdrop of a city that never slept, Renee and Y/N embraced the notion of a fresh start. As they walked away from the celebratory scene, the echoes of their shared laughter and the gentle melody of a serendipitous reunion lingered in the air, their voices fading from the scene behind them.

"There's an old song I wrote for you, 'forever will last', I think it went something like that. It would've played every wedding night."

#renee rapp #wlw #renee rapp x reader #lesbian #bisexual #female reader #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #the sex lives of college girls

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sakkiichi · 7 months

Text

ON WATERS SO INVITING.

Because tonight, neither of you can hold back from tasting the honeyed tea directly from each other’s lips.

ft. Wriothesley x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

what’s this? aya finally posting a fic? insert dramatic gasp. anyway, dedicating this one to @bunny-rambles @https-furina and @dearemilia <3 to my favorite wriothesley lovers, I hope you enjoy this, mwah !

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Notes of an herbal aroma fill the dim lit room.

Down here, it is sometimes difficult to keep track of time or the seasons, but the one constant that oftentimes keeps you sane are these meetings.

You are aware they take place once every week, just between him and you.

Steaming mugs are set atop the table separating you two.

Lately, you’ve started wishing the distance of it wasn’t there at all.

Softly clearing your throat, you place your hands around the warm cup. You take a moment to inspect its pattern, seeing how you had yet to encounter two identical sets.

You bring the liquid to your lips, taking the chance to briefly stare at the man before you while he focuses on some documents.

Unruly ebony strands stick out in different directions, somehow still managing to fall flatteringly over his face; sharp eyes, the color of starlit icicles scan over the pages, sharp jawline set, lips a taut line; your gaze travels lower still, helplessly getting lost in the contrast of black leather bands over the pale scarred skin of his neck.

Bitter. The tea you just tasted, but also the fact you have to pretend you two are just coworkers.

Although, sometimes, you thought he played you intentionally.

“Honey?” You ask, putting down your cup, beginning to stand up to get the honey jar from the adjacent shelf.

“Yes, dear?” Is the answer uttered in his baritone.

You scoff, frowning, as you place your hands on your hips.

“Wriothesley, I meant if you want honey for your tea.” You explain, tone pointed.

The warden puts down his paperwork, leaning back on his chair, that chilling gaze of his landing on you as his lips half curl into a devious grin.

“No, that won’t be necessary, thank you.” He says, that slight smirk still on his face.

You nod, returning to your seat, jar of honey in hand.

As you start mixing the thick golden liquid with your not-sweet-enough tea, you can still note his eyes on you.

It’s not that the feeling of the shiver his actions send down your spine is unpleasant per se, but you’ll start having trouble maintaining the composed facade if he keeps this up.

“Did you find anything interesting regarding the investigation?” You inquire, stirring your beverage.

Wriothesley leans a little forward, his own tea, untouched.

Strange; he was always the one to suggest you have some, after all.

“Yes to something interesting.” He states, resting his cheek on one of his hands. You swear those fingerless gloves of his are too distracting. “But it’s not related to the investigation.”

You raise an eyebrow, sipping on your finally sweet tea.

“Care to enlighten me, Your Grace?” You tease, as your honeyed lips tilt up in a grin.

The man chuckles, standing up from his seat, rounding the table towards where you are.

“I can enlighten you alright, if you’re willing to offer a little collaboration.” The Duke whispers, from behind you, lips almost brushing the shell of your ear.

You swallow, putting down your drink in fear you’ll end up spilling it with how fast your heart is hammering against your ribcage.

“Alright.” You choke out.

“Good.” He approves. With a swift move, he takes your hand, making you stand up too.

“Wriothesley, what are you doing? Your tea is going to get cold…” You try for a serious tone, but your voice comes out smaller than you would have liked.

“Hm? What was that? If I remember correctly, you wanted to know what I found, no?” Is his response, as he brushes some flyaway strands away from your face, his calloused thumb softly brushing over the pink of your lower lip.

“Wriothesley…” You utter, breathless.

“Shhh, don’t say a thing now, sweetheart.” He tells you, his face tilted to the side, one of his hands holding your chin, guiding your gaze to his, as the other cradles your cheek.

And those frosted sky eyes.

You may not be able to see the light blues painted by daylight every dawn from down here, but, right now, you’re pretty sure you prefer the shade of His Grace’s stare.

Who could blame you, for your next actions, when the distance between you suddenly vanishes and he’s reciprocating them?

You stand on your tiptoes.

And then, your lips collide against the Duke’s.

He kisses you back, more gentle than you would have expected.

Bitter and sweet flavors mingle in the annihilated space between you, as your fingers tangle in his dark hair and his hands grab your waist.

Wriothesley kisses you as if he’s drinking in the sunlight he’s been deprived of for ages; sweetly, tenderly, as if he was afraid this gold rush would disintegrate right before him; searing, the burning sensation of raw ice on bare skin.

And you can’t have enough of it, of him.

Months of yearning, of dreaming awake, finally realized in the burning of your lungs at the lack of air when his lips envelop yours.

Alas, his enlightenment only went so far for today, for the next thing you know, he’s pulling away, that same grin on his features once again, as you chase after the fading kiss.

An index over your lip’s cupid’s bow stops you, though.

“Found it interesting?” The man that currently has you on the palm of his hand questions, amusement laced through the lilt of his voice.

You reach a hand out, delicately running your thumb over the scar beneath his right eye.

He takes ahold of your hand, planting a lingering kiss on the back of it.

“Let’s find out more about it tomorrow, shall we?” The Duke utters, as he starts towards the door of his office. “By the way, that honey is very good.” Are his last words before he exists, eyes flitting from the jar to your lips.

And so, you stand there, alone and lovestruck, both your hands holding your burning cheeks as you contain a squeal.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

#astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfics #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact x y/n

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months

Text

To the victor the spoils

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Enemies to lovers

Rated: T

CW: light blood and violence; steamy kissing; very light dubcon if you squint (they're actually both super into it, I promise)

Tags: Fantasy AU; Magic AU; Guard!Steve; Thief!Eddie; Sexual tension; Flirting; Fighting; First kiss

Notes: Thought that kiss was hot in writing? Wait until you see it! @house-of-the-moving-image did an entire mini comic!

In the end, it’s just the two of them again.

Steve jumps over another groaning pile of half-conscious guards and bursts out onto the roof, cold night air slapping him in the face and making the cape of his uniform whip.

“Munson!” he barks.

He is standing by the edge of the roof, a black cut-out against the starlit sky. As Steve stalks closer, he can see the smile curling at his lips, the amusement glinting in those dark eyes.

“Stevie,” he greets, like they’re two acquaintances who’ve just met on the market square - not the new Captain of the Guard and the city’s most wanted criminal. “My, don’cha look strapping in the new get-up. Congrats, I bet daddy’s mighty proud.”

“Shut it,” Steve growls, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes linger on his golden breastplate, the way it makes a treacherous heat prickle at his neck. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Now give it back!”

He jerks his head at the necklace clutched in one black-gloved hand. Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna. It’s shiny.”

Steve groans. It’s like talking to a five-year-old. A five-year old clad in black armor who’s versed in combat magic.

“It is a priceless magic artifact that’s been in Lord Carver's family for generations-”

“Yeah, and what a load of good they’ve done with it,” Eddie sneers. “High time it got into the hands of someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“Oh, and that someone would be you?”

“Look at you,” Eddie winks. “Pretty and clever. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta-”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Steve snaps. His sword slides out with a high, metallic sound.

Eddie raises his hands. “Woah, big boy. Careful now, you don’t wanna-”

Steve roars and lunges.

Eddie skips out of reach, but not quite fast enough. A lock of curly hair floats to the ground.

“Oh sweetheart, you're gonna regret this,” Eddie purrs.

And all hell breaks loose.

The air crackles with the taste of ozone, a blinding light erupts from the artifact, and Steve just barely manages to parry. Something whirrs through the air, glides off his blade and a sharp, hot pain explodes all over the side of his face. Something warm trickles down his cheek.

“Hell yeah,” Eddie whoops and comes flying at him, giant shards of solid magic whirling around him, eyes eerily alight with their glow. “That's what I'm talking about!”

The world blurs into a frenzy of movement and adrenaline. Attack and parry, dive for cover behind the towers and turrets and battlements of the roof, attack again. It’s almost comforting in its familiarity, this dance of theirs. Steve knows all of Eddie’s little quirks, the subtle twitches of his face that indicate his attacks before they actually come. They’ve done this so often, he can read him like an open book.

The problem is, Eddie knows him just as intimately. Steve screams with rage, forces his aching limbs to go faster, harder, but it’s no use. Every blow that he tries to land, Eddie blocks, every twist and turn he makes, Eddie’s already there, always with that infuriating, dimpled grin, that amused little quirk of his brow.

Until Steve’s foot lands on a wet patch of moss and he slips.

It all goes so fast he has no time to be terrified - just feels the horrible sense of vertigo as the world tilts and the cobbled street jumps at him. Then, before he can so much as scream, there's arms wrapping around him and he's being hauled backwards, back pressed flush against another body. His blade goes clattering into the shadows.

“Whoops,” Eddie chuckles into his ear. Steve can feel his chest rising and falling with exertion, can feel his hot breath clouding against the shell of his ear. “Thought I told you not to fall for me.”

“Shut up,” he snaps, tries to struggle free, but Eddie has one arm around his chest, the other flush against the hollow of his throat, and he can't go anywhere. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

“Oh, do I?" Eddie’s lips twitch into a smirk against the nape of his neck. “Then why were you holding back?”

“Fuck you!” he grits out, but all it earns him is a low tut. “Now release me.”

“What, without a reward?” Eddie’s voice tingles down his spine, sweet and potent like poisoned mead. “You know how I am about pretty things. And you wouldn't wanna deny the victor his spoils, would you?”

“Asshole!” Humiliation coils hot and heavy in Steve’s abdomen. “Stop joking and-”

Eddie snarls against his ear. “I've told you a million times, honey. I'm not joking.”

Steve’s world spins again, breath punched clean from his lungs as he is flipped around and slammed against the nearest wall. Eddie doesn’t leave him any time to recover, just surges in with a hungry growl and crashes their lips together. When Steve tries to struggle, he bites down on his bottom lip, uses the pained gasp it earns him to lick into his mouth.

Someone moans, but it takes Eddie running his tongue over the roof of his mouth and pushing a leg between his thighs before the sound tumbles out again and Steve recognizes his own voice. They only break apart when they run out of air, both flushed and struggling for breath.

And that is when the door to the roof slams open and Lord Carver and his men push through.

“He went this way! Seize him!”

Eddie lets out an annoyed huff and leans in for one last peck against Steve’s lips.

“Sorry, darling. Gotta go, y'know how it is. See you next time.”

He steps out of his space and the night air hits Steve like a bucket of ice water. Eddie winks at him and steps over the edge of the roof.

By the time Carver and his guards arrive, the night has long swallowed him.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles #phantom thief au

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 3 months

Text

Starlit Skirts

Astarion x fem!ElfTav|| ao3 || Masterlist

Rating: T Word Count: +2.5k A little smile stole onto Tav’s lips. “I would’ve married you in the half-hour between having my back blown out and breakfast this morning, if you’d let me. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Better yet—the day before that. A lifetime ago…” By the way his lips tenderly began to mirror her own, she could tell that it was decided. Astarion would be her husband by morning.

a/n: Valentine's Gift Exchange for @marcynomercy ; happy early Valentine's Day! ♡

Tav was growing bored, positively so.

The early Autumn sun had pleasantly warmed her back when Astarion had first helped her onto the wooden step stool. Now, the chamber was bathed in the scattering light of late afternoons, the sun’s weakening sunrays crawling past the useless cheval glass in front of Tav.

Suppressing a yawn, her gaze wandered over the thick cotton sheet that was draped over the mirror, and—for the lack of anything better to do—she began to count the loose threats standing out from the tightly woven fabric one more time.

“I’m bored,” she declared when her eyes started to strain but a moment later.

Silence.

Tav rolled her eyes. Sometimes, it was rather irritating that Astarion only shut up when he was engrossed in his needlework—or when his mouth was otherwise occupied.

“You could at least entertain me a little,” she tried again, her voice light as she swallowed yet another yawn. “Since you’re keeping me on my toes like this all day...”

It was no use. As if he hadn’t heard her, Astarion continued to kneel at her feet, rearranging her skirts every once in a while to have them fall in a specific way Tav wasn’t privy to.

Astarion had been working on her wedding dress for months now, and although she’d donned the dress for a number of fittings, she’d yet to see the actual gown.

Astarion was adamant about keeping the look of the finished dress —his wedding gift to her— a secret, covering every reflective surface in the room, having her blindfolded if the need arose; working well into the night when their Elven eyes could only see in scales of grey.

So, all Tav knew about her wedding dress was that it was quite heavy, which was at odds with the cool gossamer fabric that felt so wonderfully soft against her skin, mimicking her lover’s sweet embrace…

Tav wasn’t able to suppress a third yawn. Not only was she bored, no, she was exhausted.

It was the second day in a row that Astarion had her stand in front of him for hours on end, and her body was becoming increasingly stiff. She wasn’t used to feeling this drained by doing absolutely nothing, but she supposed it couldn’t be helped.

“Don’t move,” Astarion muttered all of a sudden, pearl head pins secured between his teeth as he grabbed Tav’s wrist to keep her left arm from moving.

He’d pinned the dress’ knee-length sleeves to its skirt some time ago, insisting that he needed to see where they would overlay with…well, he wouldn’t tell her with what exactly.

Tav, frowning at his sharp command, hadn’t even noticed that she’d tried to roll back her shoulders, instinctively wanting to ease the dull ache in her joints.

“And no peeking.”

How had Astarion even known that she was glancing down at his silver locks when he was still re-pinning and inspecting the hem of her sleeve?

“Sorry,” Tav said, a tad too meekly to be considered honest as she ironed out her slouching shoulders.

Astarion acknowledged her with a huff, but that was more than enough for Tav. Wherever the Vampire’s mind had been wandering for the past hours, he was now back in the same room with her.

She would not let him go again.

“How much longer must I suffer, heart of my heart? My feet are getting so, so tired,” Tav pouted, accentuating her misery with a deep sigh. “I don’t think I can stand like this for another moment.”

It only took a heartbeat for Astarion’s busy hands to pause in their movement.

Tav allowed herself a triumphant, albeit small grin. If there was one thing Astarion couldn’t endure these days, it was her discomfort.

“Another moment is all I need, love. Promised.”

“I would so love to believe that, but you said the same thing at least three moments ago, you big old liar.”

Astarion scoffed, although Tav could hear a small grin of his own in his voice.

“Darling, it’s not my fault that I have to alter this dress every other damn week.”

Now, Tav let out a peeved laugh. The nerve of this man!

“It is, though!”

“Well, kind of,” Astarion admitted sheepishly. “Maybe?”

“Surely! Half of it is, at the very least.”

Astarion’s hands began picking at her skirts again. “Haven’t we already established that that was an accident?”

“You really are shameless, Astarion, truly,” Tav shook her head, the grin on her face widening.

How she wished she could see his face now! She could almost picture the way his eyebrows were knitted together, trying to hide his embarrassment behind a mask of concentration.

The dull ache in her spine was all she needed to decide that she’d earned herself that very sight of him. A look wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Slowly, Tav lowered her eyes, glancing down at Astarion through her eyelashes.

The bodice of her dress was ivory, she couldn’t help but notice entirely against her will; or a gentle cream. Maybe a very pale grey? It was already hard to tell in the growing half-light…

Tav bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to peek at the dress, really; she just couldn’t help it. And it wasn’t her fault that she could see past the crown of Astarion’s curly head. Or that she noticed the golden thread he pulled through her skirts, sewing on…a pearl? A crystal? It was something shiny for sure, but what?

Tav craned her neck, trying to get a better look at—

“Eyes up, damn you!” Astarion cried as he tilted his head back, catching her in the very act of gawking at as much of her dress as she could catch. “I swear I’ll have you blindfolded again.”

Tav’s eyes darted back up, pointing obediently towards the useless mirror as if they’d never left it to begin with.

“Oh, don’t you threaten me with a good time, darling,” Tav sighed dramatically, trying to make light of the way her heart raced.

“Let’s see if you’re this cheeky later tonight, shall we, pet?”

“That could be arranged—if you’re on your knees like this again…”

“Tempting. Very tempting indeed,” Astarion purred, his hand vanishing under her skirts without warning.

His nimble fingers trailed up from her ankle towards her knee, splaying out across the back of her thigh as he gently tugged her leg against his chest.

Tav gasped.

She didn’t dare another peek at him but was sure he was still looking up at her, face half buried in her skirts. The image inside her head expelled any lingering sense of her earlier fatigue.

“But let’s finish this first, alright? It really won’t be long now—you think you can endure your plight for a bit longer, you poor thing?”

Tav swallowed. This time, it was her turn to hide her embarrassment as she tried to look absorbed in the little dust particles floating through the day’s fading light.

“I suppose I can. But only because it’s you.”

“Good girl,” Astarion nodded approvingly against her shin before he withdrew, his hands taking up their work outside her skirts anew.

As it turned out, Astarion did keep his word this time.

It didn’t take very much longer until Tav could feel one final tug at her sleeve. A moment later, Astarion shook out her skirts one final time before he rose to his full height in front of her.

He unfastened the pincushion from around his wrist as he considered Tav from head to toe, circling her to examine his work.

“That should do,” he announced, coming to a halt behind her. “Close your eyes, love.”

Just like he always did, Astarion made to unfasten the lacing of Tav’s bodice.

Unlike the other times, though, she turned around before his fingers could hook under the lacing on her back; her arms came up to protectively wrap around her middle.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at her.

“What is it?”

“I want to see it.”

A deep frown settled between Astarion’s eyes as he slowly stepped behind her once again.

As if it were a dance, Tav turned to face him once more.

Astarion ran his hand through his hair, his crimson eyes searching hers as he tried to make sense of her silly game.

“You know why it’s called a wedding dress, my sweet? Because it’s worn on your wedding day— and that’s the day you’re going to see it.”

“Well, I’m wearing it right now,” Tav established with a shrug, earning herself a puzzled look from her lover.

Fiancé.

“What?” asked Tav. “We could be wed in a moment. Or three, considering you haven’t done your hair yet. The courthouse is right around the corner.”

Astarion, clearly surprised by her sudden proposal, opened his mouth, exposing his fangs for but a second before he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“All these months of wedding planning just to get it over with in one short moment?” He asked calmly. There was no bite in his voice, just honest curiosity.

A little smile stole onto Tav’s lips.

“I would’ve married you in the half-hour between having my back blown out and breakfast this morning, if you’d let me. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Better yet—the day before that. A lifetime ago…”

By the way his lips tenderly began to mirror her own, she could tell that it was decided.

Astarion would be her husband by morning.

But the pale elf was nothing if not a tease.

Taking a step towards Tav, his hand came up to her low neckline, fiddling with a detail Tav didn’t dare peek at—not under his intense crimson gaze.

“Why so impatient all of a sudden, dearest?”

Even while standing on the little step stool Tav had to raise her eyes to admire his beautiful face—the same face she wanted to look upon until the end of her days.

“I’m exhausted, Astarion. And maybe I’m even scared that time’s running out,” Tav murmured, putting into words what had troubled her for the past weeks as her hand reached for his. In an instant, his fingers intertwined with hers. “And I really don’t want to labour through another dress fitting, now that it’s getting all serious…”

Astarion pretended to look wounded as his thumb brushed over the back of her hand.

“Darling, and here I was thinking that we were already quite serious before our little accident.”

It was true—Tav had already put a ring on the Vampire’s finger a good decade ago, allowing them to not only spend their nights but days together.

There’d never been any need to rush to get married until now.

The Sunwalker’s Gift caught the fleeting daylight as Astarion raised his other hand to cup her cheek.

He considered her for a moment as she leaned into his touch.

“Are you sure?”

Tav only nodded once.

“Always been,” she whispered without any hesitation before she pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand. “And my feet are literally killing me. My spine, too. And, gods, my shoulders—”

Tav’s moaning was interrupted by a quick peck on her lips. The tip of Astarion’s nose brushed against hers as he pulled back just enough to look at the blush on her face.

“We can’t have that, can we?”

“Absolutely not.”

Astarion nodded understandingly, his hand moving from her cheek down her shoulders, along the long sleeves of her dress. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifted her off the little stool, hugging Tav against him for a moment longer than necessary.

“Time for your wedding gift, then,” he whispered in her ear before he set her gently down on her feet in front of the mirror.

“Will you close your eyes one last time, love?”

Tav let out a delighted little laugh as she squeezed her eyes shut—this time she really wouldn’t sneak a look.

The heavy cotton sheet that had covered the tall mirror for months fell to the floor with a thud.

“You may look now,” Astarion said, his hand still lingering —trembling?— on her hip.

Tav’s wedding gown was unlike anything she’d ever seen.

Not knowing where to look first, she gaped at the tiny crystals sewn along her neckline as they caught the light of the golden hour fading into shades of blue.

Brilliant embroidery shot down her batwing sleeves like silver linings, naturally guiding her gaze down to her skirts.

“Oh,” Tav breathed, watching the lonely form in the mirror brushing her fingertips over the starlit skirts cascading down her swollen belly like water.

Golden threads brought pearls and crystals together in the most breathtaking constellations, making Tav think of the few fleeting moments between night and daybreak when the sky is at its softest periwinkle, kissed by the gentle fingers of the morning sun.

“Well,” Astarion cleared his throat. “I wanted it to be unforgettable, but since you’d other plans…”

Dumbstruck, Tav could only tear her eyes from her reflection because she needed to see the man who had created all of this. What would she give right then to watch him stand next to her in the mirror?

“Astarion—” was all she could get out before the first tears began streaming down her face. “It is—it really is unforgettable!”

Astarions pulled her back against his chest, his chin resting atop her head as he urged Tav to look back in the mirror.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” he purred against her dark hair. “It’s just some fabric wrapped around my entire world.”

Tav hiccuped up a laugh, leaning back into Astarion. Maybe it was the tears, or the standing up all day, the babe growing inside her or just the dizzying feeling of profound happiness, but she didn’t quite trust her balance.

“Would you look at my swooning little bride,” Astarion grinned as he turned her to take her in, his hand unwilling to stray from her waist.

“Do you like it?”

Tav nodded vehemently, accentuating the truth of it with more tears.

“But I don’t have your gift ready yet, I’m afraid,” she pouted as Astarion tugged some loose strands of hair behind her pointy ears.

“No hurry, my heart,” he said, wishing with all his undead heart that he could see himself standing beside his bride in the mirror, caressing her ever-growing belly that had been so tedious to work with. Maybe one day he would. “Unlike you, I’m patience incarnate; I can wait a moment longer. Or however many more moments that little accident of ours may need.” Tav dared to stand up on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss against Astarion’s lips. “Let’s go show off this masterpiece of a dress in the meantime?” Astarion grinned as he beheld Tav lifting her skirts so that she could get a better look at a section of embroidery he’d laboured over for weeks. He wouldn’t tell her that her happy smile was the very thing that made her dress shine—that knowledge was his selfish little present to himself. “Why, darling, that’s a gift I'll gladly accept for now.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion x elf tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #emicha writes #wilteddreamsbg3

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licorice-tea · 2 months

Note

congrats on 100 followers! I just started reading your work because of ur prompt post and you do notttt disappoint!! soooo I want to request Zoro w lovers rock BUT SPECIFICALLY the end dialogue

“Now, how many men have you kissed?”

“Very few. “

“But you offered me a kiss. Why?”

“Such a foolish reason, I'm afraid. I just wanted to kiss you. “

- 🍙

Such A Foolish Reason

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Content: reader is usually kind of a flirt and Zoro is unsure of how much they actually like him!

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: another request from my 100 follower event! ty for the submission @🍙 and i hope you like it! <3

You had already determined that Zoro wasn’t going to make the first move, no matter how glaringly obvious you made your feelings for him. The man was simply out of his breadth, and too unsure of how to navigate this sort of emotional territory. That didn’t through you off though; you still want him more and more every day. So eventually you had taken it upon yourself to initiate the first kiss, since you could barely contain the depth of your feelings for him any longer. Every moment around the swordsman is like a game of “will they? won’t they?” at this point.

But no matter how badly you desire Zoro, you can’t just dive straight into him into a kiss the way you want to. He’s not the kind of person to do things without being sure, and neither are you. Even something as simple as kissing would require a straightforward request and, hopefully, he would agree to it.

Ever so hesitantly, you turn to Zoro one starry night at sea. His sharp jawline is turned away from you, and his eyes are trained on the waves down below. You hate that he’s so concentrated on the ocean when you’re sitting right there, shoulder to shoulder with him. Because tonight, all you want is to be the focus of that intense stare.

“Zoro”, you whisper, and he responds with a grunt, “I have to ask you something.”

Finally, he turns to face you. His irises sweep across your starlit features, then come back to meet your own eyes. From the way your pupils are blown wider than usual and your soft, glossed bottom lip is being bitten under the top, he gathers that you’re nervous. It’s strange, for someone of your confidence and boldness. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A furious blush ignites and burns across his cheeks in a matter of seconds. And though he’s unsure of how to respond in words, Zoro can at least nod.

Your palm finds its way over his jaw as you tilt his face so that it will align with yours. His skin is softer than expected; so soft that you give into the temptation to simply run your thumb across his cheek. It’s warm, which isn’t surprising given how pink he’s turned.

Zoro expects that you must have done this a thousand times to be able to touch him with such great care. To make him feel so strongly that his mind is scattered and he can barely get his thoughts in order. He’s engrossed in the feeling of you.

From your point of view, Zoro has simply gone quiet again. But you can feel the furious beat of his heart through his neck’s pulse-

“How many men have you kissed?” One of the thoughts manage to tactlessly slip out.

You immediately stop and hesitantly pull back “Very few.” Though your reputation as a heartbreaker precedes you, you rarely find yourself falling hard enough to do much of anything with the men you flirt with. Most of the time, it’s only to get things out of them; directions, supplies, etcetera.

This surprises Zoro. “But… You offered me a kiss. Why?”

The corners of your mouth curl upwards as you smile bashfully. “It’s a foolish reason, I’m afraid. I just…” You trail off with a shrug, and Zoro leans in- hooked on your every word. “Wanted to kiss you.”

And so, you do.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro fanfiction #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro #zoro drabble #drabble

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coralseacourt · 3 months

Text

Broken Love

🪸@coralseacourt Summery: The youngest Acheron Sister gets rejected for Elain.

Love is sweet but revenge is sweeter. After a broken heart comes a broken court part two of broken love. Warnings: naughty scene

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚 Part 2

He left.

Left me after all this? To find Elain?

The Shame and Embarrassment I felt in this moment was unbearable.

He ran from me like I had infected myself with a deadly disease.

If i could i would just lay here on the floor of the training room and never move again.

I stared still in shock at the ceiling above.

Wow.

After finally regaining some kind of consciousness I got up.

Should I have expected something different?

Probably not.

I knew he had feelings for her, but secretly i had hoped.

I grinched inwardly. How would I be able to train with him or even meet his eyes?

What if he gave up on my training?

With all those questions pounding in my head i went back to my room.

I had to talk to him tomorrow and make sure our training progress wouldn’t suffer.

I could do this. I would keep my feelings to myself.

That night I lay awake staring at the Stars outside of my window, so bright and yet they looked so lonely never quite reaching each other, when I heard it.

A giggle. So melodic and soft. I would recognize her voice anywhere.

I got curious what was she doing here?

She was living in the Townhouse with feyre, she never came up here.

I got out of bed and walked on quite feets to the door, opening it slowly.

My heart was racing, my hands sweating, a terrible feeling was spreading in my stomach.

I peaked out and could see Azriel’s back. His hands pressed against the wall across from my bedroom and in front of him Elain pushed between him and said Wall. Kissing. Touching. Little noises leaving her mouth.

“Listen to your sweet little moans. No one could ever compare to you.” His voice out of breath and dark from lust.

And that was the moment my Heart broke completely.

He had done this on purpose. Took her to the front of my room to devour her.

And for what? To send a message?

To tell me “I m not interested”?

I gasped loudly and tears started to roll down my face.

I would have accepted if he would have kept his distance or told me to leave him alone, but this?

It was intentionally cruel.

He pulled away from my Sister and looked at me over his shoulder.

I could find no regrets in his eyes.

I hastily closed my door and run to the Bathroom .

My Dinner heaving up . I fell to the ground in front of the toilet and threw up while tears were streaming down my face.

I should have stayed invisible.

Time was passing .

I didn’t know how long i had been laying on the bathroom floor before I went to bed.

While the sickness had left a hysterical hiccup had stayed.

Exhaustion had finally overcome me and I fell asleep.

For the next week I barely left my room.

Food magically appeared but I barely touched it. No one came to ask if I was ok, why would they ?

I had to think back about Rhysand’s words before I started training.

“Do you want to be seen?” I thought I did but if being seen meant being hurt then no I rather stayed by myself.

Or maybe it was just the wrong people that saw me.

And that’s were my plan started.

I needed to get away.

Away from everyone and everything that was holding me back. Away from everything that made me weak.

A week after the events in the training room I packed my bag and sneaked out to the 10.000 steps , that i knew i had to somehow overcome if i wanted to get away .

It took me hours.

Hours of sweat and scratched up hands.

Bloody and sweaty but feeling free.

It was still dark outside but barely.

I walked quietly through the still sleeping city.

I could do this.

Be on my own.

And with a last look towards the starlit city behind me i left, in to the woods.

🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚

1 year later

Beron was dead.

Eris did it. He finally was High Lord. And it was time to play.

For the last year I had mostly traveled, until I found myself lost in the autumn Court.

Eris the future heir had found me and offered me his friendship.

Was it a real friendship ? Probably not, but i had stopped caring.

He hid me in one of his cabins. Preparing me for the day that he would be High Lord. And the day was here.

Maids had dressed me in a dark red, long, see through dress with a slit down my left leg.

Nothing was hidden.

My curls running down my back freely. My face only touched by coal dust around my eyes.

“You look magnificent violet, my little nightmare.”

Eris was standing behind me his hands were sliding down my bare arms .

A shiver run down my spine and I closed my eyes enjoying the feeling of skin to skin contact.

“ Tonight I will release you for the first time, and I can’t wait to see their faces when they recognize you, my evil little girl.”

With still closed eyes I could feel his light kisses on my shoulder. “You really think they will care? No one has been even looking for me. “

I turned around and pressed myself closer to him touching his chest with my hands.

“ Don’t worry they will look at you and only you , when they see you in this.” He swiped his finger over my revealing cleavage and his eyes followed.

“ You are Shameless.” I whispered lowly. “ But would you want me any other way?”

He bend down and licked over my sensitive skin right between my Breast’s.

I groaned. Wetness pooling between my thighs. “ You know what’s going to happen if you don’t stop.” I mumbled lowly while trying not to moan.

His tongue wandered to my left nipple that was still wrapped in my silk dress.

The newly crowned High Lord started circling it slowly .

And i couldn’t help but grab a handful of his red hair, close my eyes , lean back to give him better access and hold on for dear life. “Oh I know my sweetness, but who am I to ignore such an invite in front of me.”

I yelped when he suddenly grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder walking to my bed.

“ I will enjoy my dessert first before I release my nightmare at the High Lords Meeting.”

He quickly threw me on the bed where I stared up to him from.

Finally he kneeled and pulled me with a swift move towards him , where he spread my legs giving me a last longing look before disappearing underneath my dress.

With the first sweep of his tongue I could feel my hole body stringing up like a bow ready for release.

His hands holding my thighs tight while his tongue swirled in heavenly ways bringing me to my release and making me moan like it was the first time.

🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚

I was standing in front of the door that separated me from the people i had left behind, that had hurt me.

That made me feel like nothing.

With Eris beside me i entered. My face was still, without showing any emotion or signs of weakness.

The players had arrived and this time I wouldn’t be the one hurt.

This Time they would see me for what I really was.

Taglist

🐚@impossibelle

#acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #autumn court #sjmaas #sjm books #sjm #acotar fandom #maasverse

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sp00kymulderr · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+. Sickly sweet fluff, unspoken love, kissing, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Dieter wakes up to you.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to banner maker.

It’s early. Too early to fathom. The breezy white curtains of the hotel room are thin and through them shines just a slither of dawn light. There’s the beginnings of the cheeping of birds outside of the window - left open to peter out the stuffy air in the room from last night. It had been hot, so hot, he’d cracked a window open just to cool the burning skin a little. It hadn’t helped.

Dieter raises his head from where it is buried between the pillow and your shoulder and groans softly, his eyes squinting and his head banging as soon as he lifts it just a little.

“D…” he hears you murmur when you feel him stir and it’s enough to make him drop his head and bury his face down against your neck and shoulder. His scruff tickles and his breath is hot. You make a little noise of annoyance that’s so damn cute to him and Dieter smiles against your skin but doesn’t move.

For a while he is still and closes his eyes again, just breathing you in. You smell of sex, of him, and fuck if he’s going to be able to fall asleep again when he realises that. He feels his stomach tighten in arousal and kisses your neck lightly. You mutter something unintelligible again and roll away from him on to your side.

“Too early” you finally say gently, dozy and sweet and perfect.

Dieter grumbles slightly but doesn’t push it. Instead he moves on to his back and stares up at the ceiling when he slowly opens his eyes.

God, his head hurts. Last night had been a whirlwind; it had started with booze, and ended with the hottest sex of his life. The middle was murky but he knew for sure that it had been something sensational, like every moment with you.

He listens to your soft breath as you sleep and that sweet noise calms him to no end. You’re so fucking beautiful it makes him ache. The words don’t get to be said out loud, but Dieter knows his heart beats faster for you and your touch. His jittery brain jumbles words like ‘like’ and ‘want’ and ‘love’ and ‘soulmate’ in ways that he thinks might scare you off, so they’re kept secret in his never-quiet mind.

There’s a lot between the two of you but it’s always been kind of foggy; a random hookup at a boring after party that turned into occasional booty calls and eventually whatever this is - monthly check-ins to a hotel in the nearest location you could meet for uninterrupted weekends of euphoria.

And it is euphoric. Sure he’s been dramatic once or twice, but there’s no exaggeration in that thought as he ponders last night and what he can remember of it. His eyes squint as the blurry memory becomes a little clearer in his head; you bent over the useless little hotel desk; that would explain all the stationary on the floor. Him on his knees between your spread legs for so long; which he supposes is why they ache now. There’s wine stains on the table, the bottle knocked over in the eager moment of finding the bed between molten hot kisses. Starlit memories flit in deep purple plumes through his cloudy mind; your warm body on his, your pretty lips pressing against his throat, the drag of teeth and tongue against his burning skin.

He smiles at the flickering memory. You enticing him all angelic on the pristine white bed sheets that now lay bunched around you and partially hanging off the bed. Your face half-pressed against those sheets when he’d had you from behind. Yeah, he remembered that. You practically drooling onto the bedding as he turned you into a beautiful mess. His favourite masterpiece. But you’d had your payback on him not long after, the torturously slow roll of your hips - your hands grasping hard enough to mark as you leaned back and rode him slowly til he was near tears.

There are wet towels on the hotel room floor. He thinks for a moment, hand absentmindedly reaching down to where he feels himself twitching with the memory. Yeah, there had been a shower after that…an attempt to cool down and calm down, but it had ended in another untamed encounter - you held up against the cool tiles of the shower wall, legs wrapped around him, desperate and aching until he made you cry in pleasure. No wonder his back hurts today, but it all seems worth it at the memory of your face as he’d made you come again.

He feels unstoppable with you.

Dieter looks down at you now, your peacefully sleeping form making the sweetest little noises in your slumber. God, he feels privileged to get this view of you. It’s better than anything; no awards or good script or large sum of money compares to the thrill of you. He’d throw every single damn trophy away as a way to show you how much you meant. You'd just laugh at that though, you would give him that brilliant smile, and tell him he was an idiot. He couldn’t argue on that.

He blinks his eyes awake a little more and turns on to his side, facing you. He can never fight the urge to be close to you. He doesn’t get enough time with you. It’s never been talked about but he ponders on the future as the orange glow of sunlight starts to flood through the gaps in the curtains.

He has to touch you, it’s like he’s scared he’ll forget what you feel like if he goes too long. Your warm skin makes that familiar yet unspeakable feeling flutter in him. Dieter’s fingers run a gentle line from your shoulder and down your side, tracing the curves your body has. He is enraptured. Has been since the first moment. It probably isn’t healthy, all things considered.

All things considered. He’s not in the position to have a real relationship - flitting from spot to spot, taking job after job, like he has something to prove in his career. He does. Besides, you’d never made a mention of making things more.

Not a mention, but there were moments in your kiss that he felt things were already at that more. Whatever that meant.

Even if it isn’t a relationship you take it seriously, every moment with him. You take him seriously and god it’s like a breath of fresh air after all the people in his past who wanted him for reasons that were not him. You listen, you care, you want to hear about his thoughts and ideas and his art, not just gossip and get wasted and use him as some show of status. Whatever this thing is, it isn’t just some silly fling for either of you. It’s special, it’s important. Always had been, always will be. He’d like to keep this thing going forever, he’d never let it end.

Lost in his thoughts, Dieter doesn’t notice you stir until your entrancing voice mumbles out.

“Daydreaming, pretty boy?”

He turns to look and gives you a lopsided smile. Your hair is a mess and there’s smudged mascara under your eyes. Still gorgeous. Always gorgeous, he thinks.

It's like the breath comes back to him fresh and full as he sees you half-awake and there with him. You're mesmerizing when you're sleeping by his side, tucked up in your dream world, but you're dazzling when you're awake and real and there with him. Sometimes the glassy flit of his gaze upon you makes him feel like he's high, just off your presence. No one’s ever done that before.

"Daydreaming..." he sighs, leaning down to nuzzle tenderly against your cheek and give you a gentle kiss now that you're hopefully more receptive to it.

"Yeah? About me?" You ask with that cute smile that had first enticed him, the one that tells a whole story of who you are.

"You..." he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then to your temple, "Last night..." he adds in a lazy low hum, his lips landing back on yours with something that is far more precious than either of you can give word to.

"Last night" You sigh, stretching your tired and still achy body, noticing his eager glance as the sheet pulls down over the swell of your breasts.

He sees a bite mark left on you from him and gives a groan, half hard and fully wanting, but too tired to act on it.

"C'mere" you mumble, laying a hand on his shoulder and pulling him down fully. His head lands softly to rest on your chest facing away from your head, and the tickle of his breath on your skin makes you sigh. He gives a happy huff as he watches your nipples harden against his warm breath.

"Had fun last night, baby" You tell him, gentle, as your fingers trail up the nape of his neck and through his untamed hair. He moans a little as you massage very slowly against his scalp with the tips of your fingers.

The touch of his hand on your stomach makes you shiver pleasantly, and he rests it on your lower belly with no intention of taking it anywhere else right now. Just skin-on-skin.

Just you and him.

Dieter is happy like this. Cared for. Made for you, in ways. He's molded to you, to the feeling of you with him. It doesn't happen enough. You linger on his skin for weeks on end and yet Dieter never has enough of you. He wanders through his life from point to point waiting for his next dose. He's alive when with you. Resting in between.

"What if we stay another day?" He mutters, unmoving as your fingertips stay sweetly pressing on his scalp.

"Baby...we both have work to go back to. You know I can't do more than a weekend" You tell him, but he knows you well enough now to note the hesitancy in your voice when you deny him.

"Fuck 'em" Dieter says with resolution "We can be sick. Laid up in bed. We can spend the whole day like this, then it’s hardly a lie. I’ll get that desert from room service, your favourite"

Your hum of contemplation is soft against his ear, a melody that eases the headache from the excitement of last night.

"The one with the cherries?" You ask, and he doesn't even need to look at you to know there's that pretty little smile on your lips again.

He turns anyway, kissing the tops of your breasts goodbye before he sits up and faces you again. He feels the sparkle of hope bubble in him. One more day this time…maybe next time he can convince you to stay at his place. Stay for a week.

Stay forever.

“The one with the cherries” He repeats, swiping his thumb over your cheek to remove the smudge of makeup there.

You grin and nod and Dieter’s heart does a little stutter. Another day with you, that’s all he could want.

“Okay. One more day” It’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said, in his ears. Plays like a symphony.

Dieter doesn’t answer with words, expression breaking out into a bright smile - not the one he shows on red carpets but the real one - the one that’s a little lopsided, a little dopey. The one that’s just for you, now.

He lays back down beside you and kisses sweet and familiar against your neck. Your skin tastes like sweat and him as he trails down between the valley of your breasts, a subtle nip of teeth right next to that mark he left last night. His movements are slow, lazy, loving.

A tapestry of adoration laid against your skin as he listens to your slow breath above him.

"Dieter" You whine quiet, tugging on his hair just slightly.

He travels back up with lips and tongue desperate to taste every peak and dip of you. Kisses your chin and then nibbles it with his teeth before you’re pushing him to how you want him.

He smiles at your insistence to move him, pushing him back onto his side of the bed and directing him to lie on his side, so you can wrap yourself around him. Protective. Affectionate.

He feels the press of your breasts against his back, as you mold your shape into his, holding him close with that familiar feeling of your hand over his heart. It beats surprisingly slowly, he's suddenly hit with the weariness of an early morning after a late night, of too much of everything but never enough of it.

The kiss you leave between his shoulder blades before you nuzzle your head there makes him sigh out loud, something happy and breathy and true.

"Another day. Just one more" You tell him again, eyelashes fluttering against his skin and it makes him want to cry, just a little when your breath gets soft again as you hold him like you want to keep him safe from everything.

One day there'll be more than just another day. You know it, it's in the way you tenderly lay yourself against him with arms wrapped tight like you'll never let go. He knows it, it's in the way his breath comes easy only when he has you by his side.

He's yours. Given to you, his own heart. Dieter doesn't think the words even need to be said, just felt. Just like this.

#Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #I'm not sure I like this but I'm throwing it out there and running away

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readychilledwine · 6 months

Text

Bound by Fate Pt 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns every thing is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - jealousy, poor communication

A/N - it's @azrielappreciationweek free day and ✨️double post day✨️

No one spoke at breakfast. The tension in the air between Rhysand and Azriel was at a breaking point. The two had been heard arguing with each other early in the morning while Cassian stood there and tried to play middle ground.

Kaylee poked the eggs in front of her. Glancing up at Amren every so often as the ancient female studied her as if she was an old textbook written in some unknown tongue. Her gaze flicked to Cassian, and the general smiled softly at her before pushing fruits her way and taking the eggs. "Did my mate give you permission to take her food or were you just feeling entitled to it?"

Kaylee sighed. "I don't like eggs, Az. He's been eating my eggs for a few weeks now." She felt his discomfort down the bond. Another thing his brothers got to learn while he was being forced to play the part of her sisters' keeper.

He was angry. Beyond angry. He was being forced to make a sacrifice and guard Elain and Nesta while his own mate was burying her pain and feelings so deep within herself he thought she'd explode.

Silence fell back over the table, leaving the door open for that heavy tension to set in again. Kaylee felt a pressure in her mind, as if something that shouldn't be there was forcing it's way to her. Rhys shifted uncomfortably. "Kaylee. Stop."

"I'm not doing it on purpose."

"I know," he sighed. "Just think of your powers like a faucet and turn the faucet off."

Kaylee tried. But something kept reaching for her, calling to her like a siren spell, and her magic locked in on it. Cassian froze at the sight of her, eyes glowing white as she began to almost radiate, at the same time, Azriel froze, eyes going almost black as his head tilted to the side. "Uh, Rhys?"

Amren paused her drink, looking between the two mates before chuckling. "Well, that solves that mystery. Azriel has a beast form."

Rhys was in Kaylee's mind, searching for a way to pull her from accidentally bonding to a centuries old creature his own brother had not even had touch with, but that bond, that damned and blessed mating bond, blocked him. Rhys closed his eyes, knowing there was only one other option to stop them from completing the connection. "Azriel, I am commanding you as your High Lord to leave for the House of Wind at once."

Kaylee fell unconscious as the connection severed, Azriel immediately holding his mate's face as her nose bled. "What the fuck just happened?!"

Rhys stood, moving between Azriel and Kaylee. "She found your beast form. It would appear after a millenia without a tamer, every form of beast is anxious to have a fae who speaks for them and their well-being." Rhys took a napkin, gingerly cleaning Kaylee's nose before motioning for Cassian to take her.

"Until she has control, Azriel. It's best if you stay in the House of Wind. Amren and I can push her out. You-"

"I will not be banned from seeing my mate," the growl he released had shadows clashing against starlit darkness, siphons beginning to glow as their wearer's mind and magic prepared for battle.

Rhysand rose a brow, "So you will risk all of us and her? If she makes you shift for the first time and your beast kills her, what will you do, Azriel?"

Azriel growled again as Cassian protectively held Kaylee away from him and backed up. "Give me my mate, Cassian."

Amren came between the two then, silver eyes a flame. "Touch her and you toy at the risk of sealing that connection, boy. Listen to Rhysand and think of her. Not yourself."

It was a stab in Azriel's stomach, his brows knitting together as he backed away from them in anger. "She's all I think of," he said firmly but quietly. "She needs me just as much as Nesta and Elain seem to think they do." He disappeared then, swallowed whole by shadows and gone from the Riverhouse.

Kaylee woke up alone and afraid, tugging the bond the way Azriel told her to whenever she needed him. She was met with silence. No soft tugs back, no wave of comfort. She stood on shaking legs, trying to remember what happened as she drank the water the house provided.

She remembered Rhysand's beast trying to speak with her. A great powerful thing with large wings and talons. She remembered telling him Rhys wanted her to get out and the creature's great huff of annoyance like he was no more than a frustrated cat wishing to has his way.

Then she was trapped by something else, and it wanted much more from her. Another winged beast, dripping darkness like ichor. It had not let her see it, just its imposing figure as it pinned her below it and stared down at her.

Her eyes grew wide when she remembered what it growled. Mate. She tugged the bond again desperately, praying to every fae God he would answer. It was a cold knife to her heart when he left her in silence.

Rhys stood and watched as the stag nudged Kaylee, then rested his large head on her shoulder as if he was hugging her. She wasn't okay. He could feel her turmoil tearing her mind and heart apart. They had been training for hours now, her practicing warging into the beast, their communication, their emotional link. Rhys now knew of several areas of the forest that had been plagued by evil. He knew of areas where food and resources were lacking. He knew what he could do to restore those areas and had begun drafting out plans.

He walked to the stag and Kaylee, scratching the stag behind his ear and then placing a hand gently on Kaylee's back. "Are we content with today?" The stag seemed to nod and gently pushed Kaylee into Rhysand's waiting arms. "Let's go get some food for you, little one."

Cassian greeted them, nodding as he stirred stuff into the soup he was making. "How was our antlered friend?" Kaylee shrugged, her eyes still looking wide and lost. She went upstairs, leaving Rhys and Cassian alone in the kitchen. "She needs him. We either take her up there or bring them here, Rhys."

Rhys rose a brow. "She needs the woods."

Cassian didn't argue, tightening his lips into a line. "We're going to lose Azriel if you aren't careful, Rhysand. You know this is all he's ever wanted."

Rhysand sighed taking the seat across from Cassian. "Do you remember when I accidently shifted for the first time? The damage and hurt I caused." Cassian closed his eyes, nodding at the painful reminder. "I've had centuries to be one with my beast. Azriel didn't even know he had one. If he shifts and hurts her in anyway, we will lose him for not protecting her. We are damned if we do, damned if we don't."

2 weeks.

Kaylee had not seen Azriel in two weeks. And now he stood in the living room, a redheaded male in hand and Feyre in Rhysand's arms. The two couldn't stop staring at each other. Eyes locked in need, love, and desperation.

Cassian cleared his throat at the scent of the bond between Azriel and Kaylee and Rhysand and Feyre. He shot the new male, one Kaylee was blocking from her memory, a sympathetic look before motioning for him to follow outside, and Azriel doing the same to Kaylee. "Kaylee, Lucien," Cassian said once they were outside. "Lucien, Kaylee."

"You were there," she whispered. "You were with Tamlin."

He nodded. His beautiful face changed. "We didn't know. I promise on my life we did not know."

"I believe you." They all paused as a shift in the trees came. A large hawk came and landed on Lucien's shoulder, head cocked before flying to Kaylee and resting in her arms.

Lucien stared between the two, then looked to Cassian and Azriel. The wild life around this house was extensive. Thriving. The woods themselves sang songs of joy and healing. He studied the littlest sister, seeing her magic giving and taking. "Dangerous powers. Nature is a cruel lover. She tends to take and take and you do not see the give back right away." Lucien came close to her, stroking the hawk on his feathered head. "The last female with your powers was drained so much by the lands and wildlife, she ran into the woods of Autumn one night never to be seen again. There's children's stories and campfire legends about her."

Azriel growled, causing Lucien to shoot him a look. "Has she bonded to Rhysand's beast yet? Typically the tamers and their High Lord's beasts are quite close."

Cassian shook his head. "We're going to the House of Wind," it was firm, ending the conversation regarding Kaylee's progress before it could start. "Az, you got Kay?"

The shadowsinger nodded, pulling Kaylee close to him and smiling slightly as she giggled and the hawk flew away. They were in the air in seconds, her nuzzled into Azriel's neck, taking in his scent and covering him in hers like a kitten.

Cassian shot a look to Lucien. "Do not bring up Rhysand and Kaylee's bond in front of Azriel again. Please. I would prefer not to have to clean up another fight between them."

"It's not a romantic bond or sexual?"

Cassian nodded, agreeing and thankful the new connection Rhysand had allowed Kaylee to make was solely business. "But we all know how… Animalistic and protective males are of their mates. Azriel believes what they have is beyond sacred. Kaylee potentially losing herself to-" Cassian rolled his eyes with a smirk as the first noises came from the house and picked Lucien up. "There have been signs already, Lucien. Hopefully having someone from the Court Tamers typically are born into will help."

The dinner was silent. Rhys and Feyre sitting at the heads of the table, Lucien across from Kaylee, freshly bathed and in impeccable clothing. Azriel to her right, Amren to her left. And Mor and Cassian on both sides of Lucien.

Kaylee had begged for Nesta and Elain to come down, pleading with every fiber of her being for just a second of their time. Just a singular moment to see them. To be held by them. She was met with silence. That silence turned to rage inside of her. She had destroyed her guest room. Screaming as the furniture replaced itself and began to redo the process until Lucien had came to her.

Not her mate.

Not her sisters.

Not even Cassian.

Lucien.

He held her, whispering words of comfort, telling her she was safe. She had not noticed her own hands shifting, but Lucien had, he watched as the tanned skin turned back from the soft blue it was shifting to. As her nails became normal instead of daggers.

Lucien held her until those moments of shaking rage became what they truly were, trembles of sadness.

Sadness from her mate immediately leaving her at the House to go sit with Elain. Sadness from her older sisters ignoring her. Sadness from the sheer agonizing feeling of abandonment setting into her soul and bones.

He held her until that trembling stopped. And then he held her again as he took in those tear stained cheeks and watering ocean eyes.

Lucien understood Kaylee to his core. The youngest sibling left to their own devices and knowledge in a world they hardly understood. He understood that anger, that sadness, that longing to belong.

He saw Kaylee.

He saw her for more than her power, for more than just Feyre's sister. He saw her for her. He saw her brokeness from mistreatment, her exhaustion from being forced to train from breakfast to nightfall.

And he didn't understand how Azriel didn't. The male cared for his mate, that was clear as he filled her plate with more food, kissed her temple, ensured her drink was never empty. But how he did not sense Kaylee's humanity slipping away already was concerning. Lucien leaned back, studying her as Rhysand studied him.

"Something interesting to you, Lucien?"

He shook his head, eyes still on Kaylee as she looked up, small signs from her breakdown still there. "No," he stated calmly. "Just admiring her. She's not something you see everyday."

Rhys nodded in agreement, pride leaking into his voice as he looked at the youngest Archeron sister. His favorite new project. "No. No, she is not." He allowed his beast to touch Kaylee. Stroking that bond between them gently in praise.

Kaylee gave a slight smile, her cheeks flushing slightly at the complement and at Rhysand's otherside almost purring at contact with her.

And, unseen to everyone but Lucien, Azriel began to seethe.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #azrielweek2023 #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x archeron!oc #azriel x oc #azriel fic #boundbyfate

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cuubism · 8 months

Text

i said i might write something based on Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda and well. yeah.

“Have you been thinking much of this time?” Dream asks.

They are at the beginning. The ancient, smoky main room of the White Horse, all the way back then, when that sweet, starlit entity had loomed over Hob with challenge and strangeness and then swept away again, leaving the start of a story in his wake. Only this time, Dream is sitting with him, and the rest of the room is faded out, as it had when Hob had first seen him, this collected truth of the universe.

(Dream does not believe in objective truth—of course he doesn’t, he is made of dreams—though he would not articulate it that way if asked. Hob, meanwhile, knows at least one truth, and it’s what he feels when he looks at Dream.)

“Don’t you think of it?” he asks, wrapping an arm around Dream’s waist, fingers over his hipbone. It is a dream, but that distinction does not matter to Hob much anymore.

“I suppose. I think of much.”

“‘Course you do.” He strokes his hand up and down Dream’s side, and Dream hums. “I wondered about following you. Think if I did you’d have been gone into smoke already.”

“Yes. I did not care to stay long.”

“Nor I,” Hob admits.

“Truly?” says Dream, with surprise.

“Was thinking about you too much,” Hob says. “How could I go back to just chatting with my mates when I had seen you?”

“Why did you stay, then?”

“You have to take time with your mates while you have it,” Hob says. “Didn’t need six hundred years of life to know that one. Just a couple dozen deaths. Had the rest of eternity to mull over you, after all.”

“And did you?” Dream asks.

“Oh, yes.” He pulls Dream close. Slides over until he’s half in his lap, straddling his thigh, perfectly placed to kiss him. Hands on his shoulders, his neck, the sharp cut of his jaw. Once, Hob had held him from afar, like a wish. Now, Hob holds him close, as dream, as friend, as lover, in his human way, with sweat and time and hands.

“I mulled over you like fine wine,” Hob says, twisting his fingers in Dream’s hair, and Dream smiles. Hob kisses him again. Sips of his mouth like mulled wine, indeed. But his love for Dream is nothing so fleeting as spice on his tongue.

Or as fleeting as Dream sometimes thinks it will be. Dream is a living love poem to creation. But he does not know how to be loved in the way Hob wants to love him. In the way Hob does love him. Hob thinks that Dream knows how to be loved as a dream is loved, as a hope is loved, as an ideal is loved: held in glass, or in the sky, distant, perfect, disappointing up close. Parts of him are held as bubbles in different souls, but never in entirety.

He knows how to be loved as a nightmare is loved, bloody fear and history, raw closeness, curling in the humors of the body. He has been loved as a story is loved, which is to say, as creation is loved, as transmission is loved, as distance, as connection, as hearts on radio waves, as endings are loved, the pathways of him, container and fill.

Dream does not know how to be loved as a person is loved.

Hob loves him still when he grows teeth, and when a sweet taste comes to his mouth. Hob loves him as potential, as uncertainty. Story unset in stone. In softening belly and uneven step. Hob will show him how to be loved as a person is loved, because Dream is a person, especially when he insists he is not, and Hob loves him as one, has loved him as one, and Dream, who is used to being loved as dreams, cannot comprehend this.

He asks, sometimes. Why? Not even in a hurt, self-hating way. In a genuinely curious way, for he is not used to it. Hob hasn’t had the answer to that. Just trust that I do.

This moment, kissing Dream in the smoke of memory, is an answer. This is the beginning, but a fragment of words comes back to him, read in the between-time, when they were apart.

“You wanted to know why I loved you.” His lips are to Dream’s skin as he speaks, moved to his throat, his chest, pulling open his high collar, as Dream shivers under him. In the Dreaming, things can be like other things in a way that makes no sense in the Waking; Dreaming-sense is like a collage, the distant truth of collected fragments. And so touching Dream’s skin is like stepping out into the earliest morning, before the human world’s woken up, and feeling what’s un-meant to be felt.

“I do not think love needs a why,” Dream says. “Yet I have wondered.”

He gets it, Hob thinks, except that he doesn’t let himself.

He traces the harsh line of Dream’s collarbone with his mouth. Dream is full of harsh lines and seems incapable of letting softness stick to his bones. “‘I love you because I know no other way than this.’”

“I am familiar with the poem,” Dream says, but his voice is caught on Hob's words, his long fingers disbelieving in Hob’s hair.

“Are you?”

“Between shadow and soul is where dreams reside,” says Dream.

“And what about Dream?” Hob says, looking up at him, stressing the singular.

Dream’s lips purse, and Hob goes back to kissing his chest, up his sternum, over his heart. “I know,” he says between kisses, “no other way. Than this.”

Dream tangles him up, long arms, legs curled together, shadow and star around him. Hob’s loved him so long that he doesn’t remember what it was like not to. He has been tangled up in Dream since the beginning. It is what he is.

“A dream resides where it is wanted,” says Dream, finally answering his question. His voice has roughened, his breath has quickened, affected by Hob’s touch, by the words of the poem. Each lick, and kiss, and bite coils the Dreaming closer around them. One day it might be harder to wake up than to fall asleep.

“It’s wanted,” Hob says, and claims his beautiful mouth, pressing him back against the wall. His hair in its uncontrollable frissons, his eyes in their changeable void, his needy starvation of a thousand unanswered love poems—this kiss is a response to those missives. Dream is in the shadowed parts of him, in his turning points, in the words he speaks. Hob sees his answer in the tears that bead along his eyes but refuse to fall, in his darkness and whimsical creations, and his surprised, gentle pleasure when he’s kissed.

Hob loves him so. There’s no moral or end to that story. Hob’s love for Dream is. Full stop. End of sentence.

#this is a little weird bc i was trying to capture how poems make me feel in the style of how i wrote it #hopefully some of you might like it because of or in spite of the weirdness XD #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #inspired by poetry #me writing this like i'm just gonna start putting verbs where theyre not meant to be used and making things negative in a way it's not mean #to be. let's see what happens XD

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