Serenity’s fic recs

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[serenity-lattes-reads]

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[ressjeon]

I tried to make something cohesive.

Date: Yoongi

Genre: Pragma

Row: 9, Seats 2 & 8

Snack: Sour Patch Kids

pairing: prince!yoongi x witch!reader

summary: his return to the kingdom brought many surprises but nothing could've prepared Yoongi the moment he met you.

genre/au: angst, fantasy, drama, soulmate!au, romance

warnings/content: suggestive themes, implied smut, mentions of alleged witch hunts

a/n: and i appreciate you very much for doing so 😭 i badly need to turn this into a oneshot, i was battling on how to shorten this for the longest time so i apologize for it being this late. today is also the 25th birthday of my dearest @agustdakasuga, ilysm bb 🥺

☞ part of @btsgoldnetwork’s two hearts, one love valentine’s day event in 2022 🎞💓

🍿 bangtan theatre presents: impossible 🍿 purchases for movie tickets and snacks are now closed!

For the longest time, Yoongi refused to believe in soulmates. It didn't matter when the people around him seemingly found their match. His older brother, the crown prince, has wedded right away as soon as he found his soulmate. Meanwhile, Yoongi hasn't found his, leading him to believe that it must've not been real at this point.

More like he gave up on waiting for his own soulmate.

The thought of finding his perfect match used to daunt Yoongi since he was little. Even if his parents were also united through the bond, Yoongi was having a hard time believing it was through being soulmates alone. There has to be another way but at that time, he was pretty open to the idea.

His parents have talked a lot about how they met, how they felt the instant connection even before the marks appeared on their skins. It used to excite Yoongi a little because both his parents and his brother found theirs quite early on in life.

As time goes on and Yoongi still hasn't found his soulmate now that he's in his late adulthood, his hope of finding her decimates.

"son, do you have any good news now that you're back here in the kingdom?" his father queries, curious if Yoongi had found his other half while travelling across foreign lands.

"no, father" he tries to sound indifferent but his father quickly recognized the defeated look in his eyes.

"perhaps it's time to consider other options?"

The king had no ill intent but it had an effect on Yoongi, pronouncing his current predicament to the table. His mother looked at him with worry so he smiled at her curtly, hoping it's enough of a response for now.

"if you'll excuse me, i'd like to explore beyond palace grounds"

His father nodded and Yoongi immediately exited the throne room. He feels suffocated all of a sudden, wanting to be away from the palace for a breather. He hopes that exploring the rest of the kingdom will ease his mind for the time being until he figures out his answer to his father's question.

.

Agreeing to take over your aunt's stall for today means that you'll have the chance to see the town market once and for all. She had prohibited you to leave anywhere farther than the house for the fear of your life.

Because of what you are.

Your aunt is the same and has trained you since your gift came into fruition when you were a child. She raised you like her own when your parents passed, part of the reason why she's overprotective over you. Up to this day, you had suspicions that it may be related to your mother being a witch but your aunt has rebutted your theories each time you ask.

That was probably why she tasked you to look over her stall while she's away for an important trip to the neighbouring kingdom. She didn’t give any details but you saw the fear in her eyes and the urgency in her voice.

Everything has been great so far. You've lost count of how many people you've met since you opened the stall. Regulars of your aunts came by to visit and were pleased to finally meet you. Some customers are tourists who are looking for immediate herbal remedies to refill their supply.

However, one particular customer has caught your attention while attending a group of travellers. He's wearing a cloak but your eyes are glued to his form due to the way he's moving seamlessly through the crowd.

It's also because you felt a slight sting on your left rib as soon as your eyes spotted him. He couldn't possibly be..?

"are you alright, miss?" one of your customers asked and a feigned smile graced your lips.

You've finished up the transaction at a lighting speed, eager to talk to the hooded man from afar even though you have no idea how to approach him. You'd have to check where the pain is to make sure but by doing so, you could lose track of the man and you can't let that happen.

.

Yoongi sees someone approaching him and curses internally, hoping the person would not recognize him. It shouldn't be possible unless they work with his family since Yoongi does not leave the palace grounds often growing up.

"would you like to try our new herbs today? it's of no cost" the woman smiled at him and Yoongi was taken aback. You don't recognize him or maybe you do and this is just a pretence.

It’s a common tactic but there would be no harm to take one if it would get you off his back. Besides, he's here to explore his own kingdom and has never noticed the stall you’re in until now.

He didn't say a word and followed you, asking him to try other herbs on display and he nodded. He has not really looked at you again since your first encounter, noticing that he avoids eye contact even when you converse with him.

"i'll fetch something from back if you don't mind"

"not at all" he replied curtly, scouring the glass bottles on the pile.

You hurriedly look for a mirror, untying your corset to check your left rib. There you find a fresh mark on your skin, a sign that you have found your soulmate and it could be the man waiting for you outside. 

Immediately rushing to go back and invite him to return went better than you expected.

"we have a new brewery every week so feel free to visit again!" you smiled enthusiastically, hoping he'll accept your invitation. This is the only way you'll get to know him without outright telling him that he's your soulmate.

You don’t want to scare him. He smiled at you for the first time and relief pours through your veins.

"i will"

.

Yoongi has visited the stall every week ever since. He doesn't even know why but it's a good excuse to get out of the palace whenever his parents corner him about his next plans. You don't ask why either  and he feels comfortable with you, finding it fascinating how you have so much energy in everything but never seem to point it to his way.

As for you, convincing your aunt after he returned from the said trip had not been easy. There are unspoken rules you follow but you can’t be cooped in your hut any longer.

You've argued but in the end, she lets you be despite her fear.

"there must be a reason why you suddenly want to take over the market now" your aunt teases but you dismiss her. You want to keep the whereabouts of your soulmate as long as possible. The time will come when they will meet, not while you’re still testing the waters.

When he revealed his name to you, that's when you knew that it's the proper time to show him how you feel. You're hoping that you haven’t been that obvious but Yoongi's little smirk when he thinks you're not watching tells you otherwise.

"i haven't been honest with you" you start as you pour the tea on Yoongi's cup.

It's been a few weeks since you first met him and the both of you developed a routine of having tea time after he chooses the herbs for the week.

"as am i" he declares after finishing his cup. There is hesitance in his face and the waver in his voice only increases the swirling thoughts in your mind.

"what.." you reply, a bit nervous that you almost dropped the porcelain teapot that Yoongi brought as a gift.

"why don't we both say what we need to reveal at the same time?"

You nodded and took a deep breath after placing the teapot on the table. Looking straight into Yoongi's eyes, the fear of him finding out what you truly are diminishes when you see the nervousness in his gaze. 

"i'm a witch"

"i'm a prince"

Silence rules after the declarations of your true identities to one another. You're just staring at each other's eyes, your gazes doing all the talking. The eyes are windows of one's soul so you hope that Yoongi can clearly see what he means to you. His eyes were unreadable at first but as the silence went on and the familiar gummy smile appeared on his handsome face, you realized that nothing will change between you. 

.

Yoongi's dreading meeting you today. He couldn't say no when you sweetly ask him to meet somewhere to have a proper brunch other than the areas around the market. He should’ve felt the opposite of what he’s feeling but instead, his chest tightens of what he’s about to do.

"i won't be able to meet you anymore" he whispers and the smile on your face vanishes.

“is it because i am merely a witch, your highness?” your defeated voice threatens to break Yoongi's composure. He knows how his words hurt people. He never should’ve let it go this far.

He's already trying to hold himself up because of the stinging he feels on his shoulder.

“n-no. forgive me but i must go” he mutters, his face wincing and in any other circumstances, you'd notice right away but you're too broken to do so after hearing his scathing words.

He's leaving you because of what you are. Being a witch must be the only reason because you genuinely thought he felt the connection too. Granted he was distanced at first which is valid and you understood more after knowing he’s a prince.

Had you known that your soulmate would eventually break your heart with the truth, you should've held on to the truth longer.

You’ve clearly misread him, thinking he was different, that he saw things eye to eye and understood that being a witch was not something you chose to be.

“you cannot even look me in the eye?”

Yoongi can't because not only will he take back his words but his focus is on the person he recognized from the palace staring at you both. He spotted them right before telling you what he’s here for. He cannot let his parents find out that it could be you, not even this way. 

This is what he feared since giving up on waiting for his soulmate. 

Why he was hesitant to confirm the connection in the first place.

"i am to be wed fortnight as of today. that was the reason why i wanted to talk to you" he rushes as he stands up, clutching his upper arm and that's when you notice.

That’s also the other reason. He’ll be dragging you with him if he keeps holding on you and that will put your life in danger. He hasn’t even met your aunt yet, the one who you talk to him about often and he’s already exhibiting an unpleasant impression. 

"meet me again once last time, a sennight from now before the bell rings, then i'll leave you be"

Without giving any indication if he'll show up or not, Yoongi leaves and you finally break down into tears. It crushes the prince to leave you but he knows right then and there that he has to leave you for your safety.

He hopes that you know him truly by heart, what his answer is. He had to leave that way to make sure you won't leave first. Who knows how many people from the palace are around witnessing the two of you together.

Yoongi enters his room right away as soon as he arrives, tearing his clothes off and sees the mark on his shoulder, confirming his suspicions. If that person reports to his parents what he saw then..

"your highness, his majesty, the king and the queen request your presence in the throne room" the guard outside his chambers announces and he closes his eyes. 

He was too late.

Knowing his parents, there's a slight chance that they already figured out Yoongi's secret. His mother can read him like an open book and even though he’s been avoiding them, the Queen sees that as an answer to their questions.

"who is she?" his father starts and Yoongi keeps his face collected.

"someone i commissioned for a recipe, father" his voice was void of anything but that’s clearly not enough.

None of his parents obviously bought his excuse and Yoongi's running out of things to say.

"what family is she from?" his mother adds.

"i do not know, mother"

"enough of this talk. we shall have your wedding sooner to avoid any of these nonsense rumours circulating around”

The new date is more than a week from now, which means a day or two after the time you asked to see him. Yoongi knows that he'd have to marry the princess from the neighbouring kingdom but he doesn't know what to do.

All he wants right now is to see you.

.

"i shouldn't be here" he grunts, finding it hard to stop himself from roaming his hands around your body.

Yoongi is scared. He has been since he locked eyes with you the first time you met. Even before the mark on his shoulder emerged, he knew that the only way for him to be married with another is for his soulmate to die.

The bond had to be broken and his parents began the hunt as soon as Yoongi refused the offer. He tried his best to intercept the information being delivered to his bride to be’s family but he overheard from the servants that his father ordered to confine him in his chambers.

That’s when he knew that he had to flee to make sure you’re safe.

"hey, you're here with me alright?" you tug him to bring his attention back to you.

He’s worried no matter how much he hides it. The bond doesn’t exactly pinpoint but you feel the weight in his chest and that was enough.

"it'll be alright my prince. answer me one thing"

"anything"

"do you feel it?"

"since the day i first met you"

Your heart melts to know that he felt the same thing when you first saw him. Maybe that’s how soulmates are supposed to work, to feel that instant connection on your first meeting. 

He accepts what you are. He didn't think lowly of you like you initially thought.

You’re sleeping soundly beside him and Yoongi couldn't stop staring at your face. It's a miracle that he's even here with you, he got lucky that he escaped the palace grounds tonight with the help of servants that held an affection for him. 

He rakes down your bare figure, committing everything in his memory just in case he won’t be able to see you again. His eyes continue to roam until they spot the marks on your ribs. With his callous fingers, he traces it delicately, causing you to squirm a little.

He waits until he hears your breath even again, afraid that his touch woke you up.

.

"then be with me" you groggily call out to him, fighting your slumber. Your ears caught some rustling and woke up out of instinct, finding Yoongi preparing to leave.

Again.

"i can't"

"why? you don't know what i can truly do. i can protect us, i'm powerful enough so we can go far away from here yoongi" you try to convince him but he won't meet your eyes.

Yoongi has broken too many royal rules by meeting with you again so he's torn with your offer to elope.

But how would the two of you live then? His parents are going to retaliate by punishing you and your aunt. They won't even have to do it directly because aside from the bounty, revealing your true nature of being a witch would make townspeople do the job themselves without a cost.

And Yoongi wouldn't be able to do anything but watch.

He has to make a choice, to be selfish or to be selfless? Can your soulmate bond truly withstand all the challenges that you're both going to face together? It’s not that he undermines your abilities but you’d essentially be running for your lives, desperately yearning for that freedom to be together.

“with or without your powers, i am with you always” 

He’ll always be terrified of what tomorrow may bring but none of it matters so long you’re by his side. 

.

e/n: fr i might re-write this and expand cuz 😩 thank you regardless for reading!

[writer-in-theory]

tying you to me — masterlist.

Summary: From play weddings in the suburbs of Las Vegas to lavish hotel rooms in New York City, Spencer and Reader find their way back to each other every time. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warnings: Smut in later parts (18+ only), Discussions of schizophrenia, Bullying, Allusions to abuse/neglect (the Reids), Canon-typical violence, Cheating A/N: This is a rewrite of a wip series called "the way i love(d) you" that can be found here. Huge thanks to @serenity-lattes and @reidsaurora for listening to me rant about this thing and helping me figure it out.

Playlist

i. i dared you to kiss me

ii. just like a folk song

iii. i'm only me when i'm with you

iv. hear it in the silence

v. mastermind

vi. so you could take it off

vii. it's fearless

viii. dancing with our hands tied

ix. the afterglow

x. champagne problems

xi. how did it end?

xii. i almost do

xiii. enchanted to meet you

xiv. false god

xv. the very first night

xvi. i can see you

xvii. the alchemy

xviii. your ivy grows

xix. high infidelity

xx. alive from the dead

xxi. just say yes

xxii. invisible string

[serenity-lattes-reads]

The one in which I say “fuck yes.”

[honeysuckleharringtons]

can u do happy camper or dear diary for Billy, por favor 🙏🏻 ily, bestie

"Fear Of Water" ~ B. Hargrove

Summary: When Reader tells Billy they want to learn how to swim, he is determined to help them overcome their fear of the water.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader (i believe!)

Word Count: 1,162

Content Warning: mild swearing, food talk, Reader has aquaphobia, newly established relationship, first kisses!!!!

Extra Notes: yes the name of the fic is from a Noah Kahan song, don't judge me; inspired by this prompt list from @novelbear

Originally Written: 06/02/2024 through 06/03/2024

Beta Read By: @serenity-lattes and @dungeons-are-too-cold 🫶🏻❤️

masterlist | summer celebration

“You're just making excuses at this point,” Billy huffed from his spot in the shallow end of the pool. Though his arms were underwater, you could tell they were on his hips, exasperation evident in his features.

“But it's too cold,” you squealed. Despite the summer sun beating down on the pool, the water was still freezing. Your toe had barely dipped into the water before you were retreating.

When you'd finally mustered up the courage to ask Billy to teach you how to swim, you thought that would be it. You'd felt confident as he pulled up to your house that morning, telling you he'd managed to get a key to the community pool and would be taking you there for the afternoon. You'd even felt confident changing into your swimsuit and walking out to the empty pool. But the second you got remotely close to the water, you were practically fleeing, your heart racing toward a panic attack.

Billy took a couple steps in your direction, stretching out his long, sun-tanned arm and beckoning you into the pool. “I've got you, I promise.”

In your heart, you knew he did, but the anxiety from your fear of water was talking you down, reminding you how you'd never be brave enough to do it. “What if I drown?” You wanted to believe the question was pointless, but your anxiety spoke louder than your sensibility.

“You know I'd never let that happen to you,” your boyfriend replied, his tone soft but joking. “I mean, I'm CPR Certified and in case you forgot, I'm a freaking lifeguard.”

“But what if-”

He cut you off with a sigh. “What'll it take to get you down here?”

You thought for a moment, before landing on, “Maybe you can help me in?”

In a couple long strides, he had reached the edge of the pool, his arms reaching out for you. It was then that you realized just how long his limbs were, because he was placing his hands on your hips and slowly lowering you into the water.

Immediately, your hands gripped his shoulders, holding onto him like your life depended on it. Still, he was being sweet about the whole thing, saying, “I've got you. Just hold onto me. I won't let anything happen to you, okay?”

Once you started to feel adjusted to the pool and brave enough to let go of Billy's hand, he went straight to teaching. In his few months as a lifeguard at the Hawkins Community Pool, he'd picked up all sorts of exercises and tips to help you learn quickly.

His hands never left you as he guided you through each movement. Billy held your waist as you practiced pushing your arms through the water, then stayed right beside you as you practiced pushing off the side of the pool. Neverending compliments and cheers left his lips, and he greeted you with a proud smile every time you turned to look at him. Your heart did somersaults at his continuous praise, the words somehow managing to bring even the tiniest bit of confidence back to you.

“Alright,” he started, “it's getting kind of late. Whaddaya say we try one last exercise and then grab some grub?”

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled at the thought. “I like that idea,” you replied with a giggle.

With that, he headed toward the opposite side of the pool. Panic started to sting in your veins as he got further away from you, the water feeling like it was closing in on you.

“What are you doing?” you asked before swallowing a golf ball sized lump in your throat.

“If it's okay with you, I'm gonna stand over here and you're gonna swim to me. You're just going across the shallow end, so even if something happens, you'll still be safe. If you wanna stop, all you gotta do is stand up and then you're done, okay? I've got you. I promise.”

You started to shake your head. “Are you sure I can do it?”

Billy shot you a smile, his teeth all pearly whites in the sunset rays. “I know you can do it, babe.”

The nickname sent heat straight to your cheeks. With your relationship being fairly new, nicknames were something that weren't too common yet, so when he used them, it made your heart flutter. Still, even his confidence in you didn't seem sufficient enough to make you believe in yourself.

“Are you sure? What if I screw up and forget everything you taught me?”

He gave you a sympathetic look. “I know it's scary, but you'll never know if you don't try.”

After a few more moments of contemplation and mustering courage, you felt yourself kicking off. You took a deep breath, paddling through the water just like he'd taught you, kicking your feet like “little flippers” as he'd called them.

Before you knew it, you'd made it across the pool to him, landing in his arms, safe and sound.

“Look at you!” he shouted. “You did amazing, sugar!”

You squealed, water bouncing around you as your arms flapped in excitement. “I did it, Billy! I did it!”

In one swift motion, his hands landed on either side of your face. Without giving you time to process it, his lips were smashing into yours, chapped skin somehow managing to become your favorite feeling in the world. It was all chlorine and cigarettes and cheap cologne, his taste and smell and touch filling every molecule of you.

You'd never seen Billy blush, honestly you thought he was probably incapable of it, but sure enough, his cheeks were bright pink as he pulled away.

“What was that for?” you said after a moment of taking everything in.

His hands moved from your cheeks down to your waist. “I'm just so damn proud of you.”

You did your best to fight the smile that tugged at your lips, but his sweet words and kind actions throughout the day were just too much for you to resist. “Well, I had a great teacher.”

Billy opened his mouth, but his words were cut off by a rather loud growl of his stomach. “It appears your teacher is ready for that post-lesson meal.”

You giggled, giving him a soft peck on the cheek. “Come on. I'm in the mood for some burgers.”

The two of you pulled yourselves out of the pool, heading toward the showers to dry off and change clothes. “Hey, can we go to The Blue Plate?” you asked quickly, hungry for your favorite diner in town.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Another small squeak left your lips. “Good! We can get strawberry milkshakes and I can show you what color your cheeks were just now.”

A scoff of fake offense exited him, his shoulder playfully shoving into yours. “I did not blush. And if you keep that up, I won't get you any milkshakes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, strawberry boy.”

-> taglist: @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @hereiamhereigo @esoltis280

[writer-in-theory]

a splash of color (like no other) — zukka.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar) Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar) Additional Tags: Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Bad Parent Ozai (Avatar), Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst and Feels, Good Parent Hakoda (Avatar), At least hakoda tries his best, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Idiots in Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: When Sokka's soulflowers bloom red, he's sure the spirits have gotten something wrong. There's no way the spirits would match him with someone from the people who took away his parents. When Katara's soulflowers bloom grey, he's even more sure that the spirits are full of shit. How could her soulmate be from the Air Nomads when they were killed a hundred years ago? When Zuko's soulflowers bloom blue, he knows he'll be lucky to last until adulthood. Soulmate AU where flowers bloom in the color of your soulmate's nation.

Excerpt:

It was supposed to be a special day—the day a person turns ten years old and their soulmark finally blooms. It’s the day that the soul connection becomes fully formed, when someone can begin to find the person who’s meant to be their other half. Usually the people of their tribe find their marks quickly; most of them never being destined to leave the comfort of the Southern Water Tribe. Their marks all come in the matching blue of the water tribe—an almost certainty that Sokka was supposed to have followed.

His parents were doing the thing where they talk without words, simply staring at each other above him as if that’s all it takes to understand each other. Sometimes, Sokka wondered if it might’ve been possible, considering the shared flowers he knew his parents bore. 

“Why’s it not blue?” Sokka demanded, his little heart beginning to flutter with the building tension of the room. “What’s it mean, Dad?”

The sound of his title broke Hakoda from his silent conversation with Kya, his expression falling under his control once more. Sokka called it his ‘Chief look’, when his face fills with seriousness and determination.

“Do you remember what we told you about these marks, son?” Hakoda asked him, his hand replacing Kya’s to cradle Sokka’s wrist in the air. The movement revealed the blue-colored freesias curling around Hakoda’s wrist and forearm. Sokka had spent a long time tracing along the petals of them, demanding his dad tell him the story of how he and Kya met years before. No matter how many times he’d told the story, his father never failed to smile and retell it. 

The moment you first meet your soulmate is like seeing the world in color for the first time. There’s nothing like it.  

“It’s my soulmate,” Sokka answered, studying the red (and distinctly not blue) petals carefully. They stood out among the whites and blues of the water tribe’s clothing, among the blue of his parents’ own flowers. 

“It’s a fire lily,” Hakoda explained then, waiting with all the patience in the world as Sokka processed the information himself.

Red. Fire. He’d never seen them in person, but everyone in the tribe knew the stories of the Fire Nation raids, when they’d stolen every waterbender for the sole purpose of weakening the Southern Water Tribe. Red meant danger, badness . It shouldn’t be swathed against his skin now, not in this flower, not where there should be blue.

[hornyhornyhimbos]

can we get a glimpse into the future of how cowboy steve and reader are doing? do they still own the bar he bought for them and do they have kids? it would be cute to see steve have a mini him that loves to ride bulls

so so sorry for just now getting around to posting this!! more on that later but for now, i hope you enjoy!!!!

"When She Says Baby" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Excitement is high as the Harringtons celebrate the two year anniversary of opening their little bar. But for Reader, anxiety is also high as her yearly gynecologist's appointment rolls around…

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,285

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, breeding kink, daddy kink, sorta cockwarming but not really, sorta dubious consent (they're in an established relationship but were both tipsy beforehand), dirty talk, explicit language, alcohol consumption, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i haven't really written a breeding kink before so if this is bad, i apologize // also really could've sworn i queued this yesterday so let's all pretend it's still filthy friday, ok??

Based On: the rest of this series and the ask mentioned above!

Originally Written: 06/23/2023 through 06/28/2023

filthy fridays | stranger things masterlist

Your veins had been burning all day with some mixture of adrenaline, excitement and anxiety.

It was the two year anniversary of opening Harrington's Honky-Tonk, which Steve had reluctantly agreed on calling it, and the day had been filled with preparation for the big party that night. Fans had come from just about anywhere in Indiana and the surrounding states when they heard Steve Harrington was celebrating the momentous occasion with half-off drinks and a big announcement at the end of the night.

Your day, however, started to go a little differently when you arrived at your gynecologist's office for your yearly check-up.

You weren't necessarily nervous because of something potentially bad. It wasn't like you were pregnant, you and Steve used two different types of protection nearly every time you had sex. And it definitely wasn't like you had an STI, considering you and Steve had been loyal to each other for so many years.

No, what had you anxious was the fact that you needed your IUD replaced. Or, maybe you didn't…

Every part of your brain knew you should've talked to Steve before the appointment about what route to take. You were a hundred percent positive that getting pregnant was nowhere in the cards for the near future. Still, some part of you knew having the IUD replaced wasn't what you wanted. So, instead of getting it replaced, you decided to simply have the old one taken out.

Some weird jumble of both guilt and relief fluttered around in your stomach the whole afternoon and into the night. The only time you'd found a tiny bit of solace was in the two shots of vodka you'd downed at the party, but toward the end of the night, it had certainly worn off and the feeling from before quickly returned.

Steve must've noticed, pulling you away from the bar and into the back room. You were tempted to down a whole bottle of vodka from the rack beside you rather than admit your secret to him, but thought better of it.

"You alright?" he asked, his hand brushing yours as if asking permission to hold it. Despite being married for over a year now and having been together for five years in total, he was still a gentleman. Holding doors for you, giving you the last of his fries, and asking permission on almost everything were practically daily occurrences with Steve around.

You nodded softly, despite being the exact opposite of that seven letter word he'd just used. "I'm okay, just stressed about tonight."

Steve's big announcement was the whiskey brand he'd been working on, and while you weren't all that nervous about the fans' reactions—you knew it would go over well, the way his fans adored him—part of you had still been a little scared about the financial aspect of it. Starting a new company was difficult—you'd both experienced that firsthand.

One of his hands moved up to cup your cheek, distracting you from your current train of thought. His thumb rubbed soft lines along your skin. "Hey, whatever happens happens, right?" he reassured you. He pulled you up for a soft kiss on the forehead, greeting you with an even softer smile when he pulled away. "It'll be okay, I promise."

'Whatever happens happens,' his words rang through your head like an alarm you wanted so desperately to turn off. Your mind wandered back to your secret, and hoped that those words would apply once again whenever you told him.

The rest of the night went by surprisingly fast and smoothly, you and Steve loosening up a little over some Jack and Cokes and a round of line dancing that neither of you were sure how you'd gotten roped into. His announcement even went over well—considering all the excited shouts and whooping that rang throughout the bar in response—and Steve seemed to be at an all time high when he pulled you toward the staircase.

In fact, you were sure you'd never seen a smile as big as the one Steve was sporting as he picked you up bridal-style, carrying you up the stairs and into your shared apartment.

The two of you had originally planned on buying a house in a nearby neighborhood, but when things fell through, you both realized just how much you liked the idea of turning the upstairs area of the bar into an apartment. Flash forward two and a half years and now, the place was transformed into a cozy little one bedroom apartment, littered with Steve's various awards and many, many pairs of cowboy (and cowgirl) boots.

Your arms were wrapped tight around his neck, a gentle smile tugging at your own lips as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Seeing Steve so excited was almost enough to distract you from the impending news you had yet to deliver.

Steve set you down on the floor, his hands making their way to your hips while his mouth locked on yours. "Did you know I love you more than anyone has ever put into words?" he asked between kisses, one hand traveling from your hip to your ass. It had been so long since Steve had gotten tipsy, you'd almost forgotten how frisky alcohol could make him.

Guilt twisted into a tight knot in the pit of your stomach. Pulling away, you decided it was best to just rip off the band-aid. You couldn't hold back any longer, you felt like you'd explode if you did. "You can't say things like that when I'm about to tell you something that'll make you hate me forever."

His face softened as he stepped closer to you. A gentle kiss brushed over your forehead before his eyes greeted yours. "I doubt you could ever do that," he countered, his hands moving back to your waist.

Your eyes parted from his, looking down at his boots and wondering just how you of all people got lucky enough to marry the best man in the whole world. A deep sigh left your mouth before the words you'd been dreading followed. "I went to the gyno today."

"Oh, yeah, your yearly appointment was today. How'd that go?"

You forced your eyes to meet his, and the remorseful feeling in your stomach twisted and writhed even harder when you saw the soft honey color that had settled in them. After that, the words tumbled out so fast that even you couldn't believe he had that much of an influence on you. "She took out my IUD! There, I said it! Stop looking at me like that!"

A string of chuckles tumbled from his lips as he bent down, his mouth melding to yours again. You couldn't lie, you were definitely shell-shocked from this unexpected reaction.

"Don't you get it?" you all but screamed as your mouths parted. "She took it out! As in, she didn't replace it! Doesn't that make you the least bit angry with me for not asking first?"

Steve shook his head as the grin from earlier made its way back to his mouth. "No, it doesn't. It's your body, you can do whatever you so please with it. It does mean a lot though that you care about my opinion so much."

Guilt was overpowered by the biggest wave of love you'd ever felt for this man. "You do realize we have to be extra careful now, right? Like, no going without a condom, taking morning after pills, the whole nine yards of precaution."

The honey color that swirled in his irises quickly turned to a lustful black. "Who said?"

You felt like you were experiencing whiplash from the amount of different emotions you'd felt in the past five minutes. You couldn't lie, you weren't opposed to having kids, but you had been absolutely positive Steve didn't want them right now, so his words definitely took you by surprise.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, but not a second later, Steve kissed away the confused crease between them. "But-"

He shook his head, already knowing exactly what you were going to say. "I never wanted to wait. Sure, a lot has happened in the past few years so the timing wouldn't have been great, but not for one second did I not want to have kids with you."

Happy tears filled your eyes as you pulled him down for a long kiss, adoration flowing from the top of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes. His hands slipped into your back pockets as he deepened the kiss, his tongue all but forcing its way into your mouth.

You pulled him ever so close, your limbs entangling like they belonged to one another. His mouth moved away from yours and down to your neck, sucking on the pulse point and eliciting a moan. Steve chuckled, pulling you toward the bed but not once removing his lips from your body.

Somewhere along the way, he kicked off his boots before pushing you back on the bed. He tugged off your sneakers, tossing them toward the shoe rack, then making quick work of your jeans. "What do you say?" he asked, kissing you again, harder and needier than he had before. "Do you want that?"

"Please," you all but begged, your hands meeting his back, nails raking the skin beneath his shirt.

"Please… what?" he asked, tossing off the skin-tight tee shirt he'd been sporting. After seeing the way it hugged the muscles of his arms and the dips of his chest and stomach, you'd been desperate for him to take it off since the moment he put it on.

Your breathing sped up as you thought about your answer. "Please," you repeated, "wanna make you a daddy. A real daddy."

His eyes were completely lust-blown by now, his fingers drawing tantalizing circles on your thigh as he leaned down to meet your still-clothed core with a soft kiss. "I like the way you think, princess."

He made quick work of your panties, his lips immediately connecting to your clit. He hummed in pleasure, the vibration only pushing you closer to the edge. Over the years, Steve had found all the perfect ways to unravel you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were cumming.

"Steve," you whined, your hands intertwining in his already messy hair. You guided him to where you needed him most, his tongue dipping inside you while his nose bumped against your clit. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer.

He parted from you with a low laugh, your eyes rolling in both frustration and want. "Can't help it," he said, kissing your pussy again, "Gotta make sure she's ready for me."

His tongue slipped back into your hole, your wetness surely soaking the stubble that covered his cheeks. Moans and whines tumbled from your mouth, one after the other, until you were on the brink of falling apart. Your veins burned with arousal, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of their sockets when his mouth moved up to your clit, replacing his tongue easily with two fingers.

Fingertips grazed your G-spot, and in an instant, you were coming undone, all but screaming his name as you came on his tongue.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out before holding them up to your parted lips. "Suck," Steve instructed, dark eyes meeting your glassy ones. You didn't hesitate, swirling your tongue around the digits and taking in the taste of your essence.

You worked to control your breathing as his fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head, his eyes nearly popping out at the sight of your breasts and the way they all but spilled out of your bra. "Just think," he started, pulling one of them out of the cup and palming at it, his fingers twisting the bud and drawing out a mewl from your lips, "Gonna be so pretty and big." Steve was a huge fan of your boobs anyway, but you knew he was going to be utterly obsessed with how big they'd get if or when you got pregnant.

His lips wrapped around your nipple while he palmed at the neglected one. Your eyes rolled in desire, a small, "Fuck," falling from your lips.

Steve forced himself to remove his lips from you, knowing he'd stay there for hours if he didn't. He shoved his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, throwing them in the general direction of the bathroom. His cock sprung up, and you swore you'd never felt as carnal for him as you did at that moment.

"You ready?" he asked, being ever the gentleman. You nodded and in a second, he was pushing inside you. Groans and expletives tumbled from Steve's lips, his head falling forward as he slowly slid in. "Fuuuck," he sighed heavily, "I love you."

"Not as much- shit- as I love you," you exhaled, shifting your hips and chasing down the rest of his length. The crescent moons of your fingernails dug into his back, surely on the verge of making him bleed.

He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, beginning to create that perfect rhythm only he knew how to provide you with. "Yeah? Love me so much you're gonna- fuck- carry my baby around? Let everyone know who got you in that state?"

A soft whimper slipped from your tongue as you managed a nod, rutting your hips in an attempt to speed up Steve's motions.

"So needy," he teased, canting his hips faster, fast enough to catch you off guard. His cock brushed your sensitive spot, your back arching off the bed in response. "Just so ready for me to fill you up, huh?"

You whined, pulling him down with one hand while the other still scraped at his spine. Your mouths connected in a messy kiss, surely leaving your lips swollen when he pulled away. "Please," you begged again, "fill me up, daddy."

A guttural groan rolled off his tongue as his hips pistoned harder, his heavy balls slapping against you as he chased down his high. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart," he replied, his lips meeting the dip of your breasts. "Gonna get you all pretty and full, over and over again. Gonna remind you of the only man that can fill you like that."

Your pussy fluttered around him, your orgasm quickly approaching. "Fuck, Steve!" you exclaimed, surely loud enough for the people downstairs to hear. "I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, baby," he said, somehow making the phrase sound encouraging yet filthy at the same time. "Cum all over daddy's cock, yeah?"

Whimpers and moans tumbled off your tongue as you fell apart underneath him, your hands grasping at his shoulders to steady yourself. Your toes curled, digging into his hips and pulling him even further inside you.

His hips rutted in a sloppy rhythm and you knew it wouldn't be long before he was cumming too. He sucked a harsh kiss on the dip of your neck, surely leaving a hickey in his wake. "God, you're gonna be so pretty. All knocked up with my babies. Showing everyone how willing you were for me to fill you up and fuck you right."

His name fell from your lips like a record stuck on a loop, a mantra you needed in order to survive. The overstimulation was too much and not enough all at once, your eyes crossing in pure pleasure as yet another orgasm built within you.

One of his hands gripped yours, lacing his large digits in between your smaller ones, his thumb rubbing soft lines along the back of your hand. Steve stopped mid-thrust, his previously dark eyes turning to gentle ones, and you swore you saw tears forming in them. He took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss you, a soft kiss so different from the rough, longing kisses from before. A smile pulled at his lips when he moved away, his eyes meeting yours.

"You sure about this? Last chance," he kidded, but you could tell there was some seriousness hidden behind his playful tone.

You nodded before kissing him again, your opposite hand slipping into his hair again and giving it a gentle tug. "I'm ready," you reassured him, now nearly on the brink of tears yourself. "Been ready since the day I laid eyes on you, cowboy."

He pushed back in, slowly building back up his pace and working both of you back to the brink of orgasm. His lips parted into an open 'O' as he thrusted one last time, emptying all that he had inside you as you climaxed for a third time.

It was by no means the first time you'd gone without a condom, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was knowing that you no longer had an IUD, maybe it was the risk of it sticking this time. Whatever it was, it had you feeling a closeness to Steve that you weren't sure you'd ever felt before.

He flipped the two of you over, allowing you to fall limp on top of him. Your chests heaved in lousy attempts to calm your breathing, the only noise filling the air being that of your exhales. His palm abandoned yours, moving up to your back and sliding soft lines up and down your spine. Parted lips greeted your scalp with a gentle kiss, before they moved down to your forehead, finally stopping at your own lips as he turned your face towards his.

"Stevie?" you said, looking up at him through previously mascara-coated lashes, the makeup surely having been sweated off by now.

"Yeah?" he answered, grazing another peck across your forehead.

You hated to ruin the moment but… "I need to pee."

A goofy grin formed on his face as he rolled you back over, gripping his hands around your thighs and keeping you wrapped around him. His cock was still buried inside you, still pressed against your sweet spot, still finding a way to make you moan despite barely having moved. "Sorry, can't do that."

Your head fell back against the mattress, a frustrated growl falling your lips. Sure, you weren't really all that frustrated—you could eat, sleep, and breathe with Steve's dick buried inside you and it still wouldn't be enough—but you really did need to pee, and you knew this was the only way you'd get him to pull out. "I'm gonna piss all over you and the bed if you don't let me move."

A sly smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Kinky," he chuckled, "I like that in a woman."

You couldn't help the snicker that he elicited out of you. Still, you shook your head in protest. "Please? I really do need to pee."

"Gotta make sure it sticks," he countered, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible.

This time, a smirk pulled at your lips. "I doubt it won't stick, considering how hard you just fucked me," you argued. "But I'll tell you what. If you let me go pee, you can try again," you paused, kissing his neck, "and again," a kiss on his earlobe, "and again," a final kiss on those plump, pink lips you loved so much, "until it finally does stick. How 'bout that?"

He slowly pulled out, low mewls exiting both of your mouths in sync. Steve moved just enough for you to stand up, his palm slapping your ass playfully as you began to walk away. "You wanna know something?"

"What's that?" you asked, flicking on the bathroom light.

He followed you into the bathroom, his eyes turning dark once again. "I like the way you think, cowgirl."

So... surprise??

I really did mean to post this however many months ago when I got the request. But I guess I was just never really happy with this fic and I wanted to re-write it or just trash the idea and start over but nothing really ever felt right. So I'm sticking with the original and hoping you guys enjoy! I have so much more to come for this cowboy and his girl but for now, this is where they are.

To the anon who requested this, I hope you're still around. Sorry I kept you waiting for so long. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait ❤️

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It is finally Y/N's turn to walk down the aisle. Sherlock can't keep his eyes off of her. She is certain that the man waiting at the alter is the one she will spend the rest of her life with. Is he?

wedding fluff and angst

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Sherlock stood at the alter, hands clasped behind his back. To the wedding guests, his sharp stance would suggest ease. In truth, each deep breath he chased was laboured and unsure.

She was a vision in white. Precious in deep sheets of ivory.

Sherlock had never seen such perfection.

Y/N took measured steps down the aisle in time to the music's pace. A few steps further and the bride would become somebody's wife.

Sherlock promised himself he would not cry today. Not one tear, he swore. He was better than that. Still, as Y/N drew closer, step by step, he wasn't certain he could keep a dry eye.

He considered turning away or focusing on the flower arrangements set behind her shoulder. Anything to keep the strain in his chest at bay.

It was in that moment of deliberation that Y/N chose to wink at him. A small gesture, hardly visible behind her veil but even so, he caught it.

Propping his shoulders back, he chose to keep looking. Better to face the music than miss a flutter of her lashes or the quiver of her lip when she smiled.

Though his throat felt constricted and his chest heaved for breath, Sherlock Holmes could not turn away from the bride.

He registered John shoot him a grin from the left. He wasn't sure that he returned it.

"She's beautiful," John said in a hushed tone.

"She's beautiful," Sherlock repeated.

Three years earlier, Sherlock had met Y/N for the first time. Since then, she had stumbled through the flat each day, always with a shy smile and a soft spoken, "hello".

He loved her from the start.

Their highs and lows, they would experience together. When she threw her head back in laugher, teeth gleaming at something her lover said, Sherlock would see it. He often revealed his experiments to her, if only to see the wonder shine in her eyes.

Even after every lover's spat, Sherlock would wrap his arms around her and swear that things would look brighter in time.

He was right. By God, he was right. He had to be, for now, she stood just steps away from him, at the alter, incandescently happy in her wedding gown.

A slow tear trailed down Sherlock's cheek.

Y/N finally reached him and there was silence in the cathedral when the music at last, had died. 

"You're crying," she said.

Sherlock choked out a laugh that hurt his head. "I'm not," he replied. He tightened his lips together to ease the line of worry that had suddenly appeared on Y/N's brow.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. Closing his eyes, Sherlock shifted her veil aside. His hand trembled as he pushed it just far enough to kiss her cheek.

Though he gave her the softest of kisses, he felt a sharp stab in his heart, as arduous as the touch of his lips on her skin was brief.

He dropped her veil again and opened his eyes. "Every happiness," he said to her. His gaze steeled into her own. He hoped she wouldn't understand but she did.

Y/N nodded and her veil rustled. "Every happiness," she said back to him.

Sherlock clenched his jaw and feigned a smile for the wedding guests that stared from the pews. Then, he took Y/N's hand in his own and walked with her for three final steps.

John waited beside the priest.

Sherlock presented the groom with his bride and took his position as best man.

He was good at that, after all; standing on the outside, looking in. It's how he captured so many of his friends' most private moments in the small space of 221B.

Throughout the ceremony, the words, "every happiness" rang in Sherlock's mind.

When John and Y/N shared their first kiss as man and wife, Sherlock clapped along with the others but still, "every happiness" lingered at the tip of his tongue.

He simply couldn't manage to add the words, "I wish you..." at the start.

Things would be brighter in time, he told himself.

He knew it was a lie but for now, he clapped.

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I'm crying. I have reposted this thing like, 10 times. Last time, I swear. omg. please work. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know.

Thank you for your patience, literally everybody I'm tagging: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @aephereal ​ @andthevillainshallrises ​ @baby-bloos ​ @cookiemumster1 ​​ @eternal-silvertongued-prince ​ @bogginsreadings ​ @lumosouls @spencerrxids @serenity-lattes @msseijii @classickook @starstruck-loner @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson ​ @lucywrites02  @danzalladaggers @mrs-holmes @pytharuw @antsn @kabubsmagga @newtsniffles  @cemak​ @liv-olive-oliver @iamtrash-withrespect @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[serenity-lattes-reads]

The TWIST. Ouchie.

[senualothbrok]

A Show of Love

Summary: Sometimes, Gale doesn't seem sure how much you love him. So you decide to show him.

Word count: 1.4k

Disclaimers: 18+. NSFW. Smut. (Unascended) Gale x female reader/Tav.

AO3 link

More disclaimers: Hand and finger kink. Oral and vaginal sex. Vaginal fingering.

Note: This is the first time I've ever written smut (yes, the rizzard got me), so I hope it hits the spot. Any comments/feedback would be welcome so I can learn and improve!

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He is sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He crosses one leg over the other as he reads. As you undo the straps of your armour, you watch him from the other side of your room at the Elfsong Tavern. You remove your breeches, boots and gloves. He does not know what you have planned for this evening. That you have ushered your companions away until the early hours of the morning, so the two of you can be alone.

Over the past weeks, Gale has shown you an eternity of love and devotion. He has shown you realities beyond your imagining. You have no doubts about the depth of his love for you, the strength of his yearning. But when you tell him your feelings, you can see that part of him remains uncertain. He is still surprised that you could love him. Backfooted by how much you adore him.

So you have decided to rectify this. You cannot show him the astral sea, or the intricacies of the Weave. But there are some things you can show him.

“Gale?” you call out.

He looks up at you instantly. Always ready, always willing. You want nothing more than to show him that you, too, share the same unwavering focus.

You take slow, deliberate steps towards him. As you move, your cuirass and pauldrons fall to the floor.  Your underclothes slide away. You stand before him naked, glistening in sweat, damp and flushed. Your breaths are shallow with anticipation.

His eyes widen.

“I want to show you something,” you say.

He swallows. The book falls from his hands, toppling off the side of the bed. He straightens, his lips curling into a smile.

“What could that be?”

“Well…”

You take a long pause, savouring how his gaze lingers on every inch of your bare skin, dilated with awe, lust and longing. You tingle with desire, its wet flame already flaring inside you. Before he can spring towards you, you crawl onto the bed. As you straddle him, you tremble from the grasp of his hands on your waist, the spread of his shifting thighs.

“I want to show you how much I love you.” You look at him earnestly. Innocently.

His cheeks blaze, his brown eyes burning. His nose grazes your collarbone. He closes his eyes as he drinks in your musk. “My love, I know-”

You bring a finger to his lips, tutting gently.

“I don’t think you do.”

You run your thumb over his lower lip. His tongue slivers against it. Instinctively, your hips roll against him. You can feel the quiver through his body.

“And that’s why I’m going to show you tonight.”

You take one of his hands in yours. You kiss the inside of his palm, drifting down his wrist, open mouthed and wet. He exhales heavily, biting his lip.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your hands?”

He watches as you take his forefinger inside your mouth. You take your time caressing it with your tongue, running your lips up and down its length. A groan escapes him as you wrap your mouth around his thumb, licking and sucking at each remaining finger in turn. Within your centre, you slicken with moisture and heat.

His other hand reaches up towards your face. He leans towards you, breathless in desperation. You buckle against him, your open mouths meeting each other’s hungrily. It takes all of your self control to push him gently back.

“Not yet,” you pant. “Not before I’ve shown you how much I want you.”

He stifles a moan.

Moisture pools in the space between his fingers, trailing down his wrist and the flickering veins on his forearm. You guide his hand down your neck and over your breasts. Your skin pulses and gleams where he has touched it. You whimper when his fingers clasp at your erect nipples, painfully hard. You can feel the bulge of his cock pulsing against you, growing with every sign of your arousal.

You move his fingers down, down, further down.

“Do you know how wet you make me?”

His gaze is wild as you press his fingers into your folds. You are so wet you can hear them slide into you, searching for the throbbing source of your pleasure. He does not need encouragement or guidance. Your eyelids flutter as he traces circles into that secret corner of your clit that he has so easily found. You are unravelling at the grin that plays on his lips. You throw your head back as you whine, your thighs clenching against his, bearing down into his twitching cock.

He lurches forward to push you back onto the bed. You resist with a little laugh.

“No.” You pout. “I’m showing you, remember?”

“Gods,” he murmurs. “If you keep showing me for much longer, I-”

He is cut short when you begin to lick your dampness off his fingers. First one, then two, then three fingers inside your mouth, your lips parted wide as you lap, your eyes fixed on his. He grimaces, his hips bucking into you. You find yourself grinding your clit against him like a plea. You desire is a fire now, burning through you.

“I love every part of you,” you breathe. “Have I ever said that?”

You edge down, off his lap. For a moment he looks shocked, bereft. But you are bent over now, desperately loosening his breeches to free his engorged cock. You look up at him as you take hold of it by the base, flicking your tongue against its tip, already leaking with desire. You lap up each bead slowly, so that he can see how you enjoy his taste. He flinches, his features clenched in anguish and relief.

“I love every part of you, including this part.”

You keep your eyes on him as you take his shaft deep inside your mouth, trembling each time it surges against the back of your throat. You slide it in and out, your tongue swirling against it, spit spilling down your chin and through your fingers. Your desire is reaching delirium, and your clit thrums, bursting for relief. You moan as he arches his back, ready to explode.

“Please,” he gasps. “I can’t-”

You stop for an instant. That is all he needs. He springs forward, pressing every inch of his body against yours. You rip his shirt off as he shoves his breeches down in a frenzy. His tongue glides and whirls against yours, ravenous. You weave your hands through each other’s hair, drunk on each other’s salt and sweetness. You wrap your legs around his back as he presses his cock into you. He is gentle at first, but when he meets no resistance, he thrusts into you, as if he cannot bear to wait any longer.  You whimper at how his warm girth stretches you apart and rubs against the corner of your clit.

“Gale,” you pant.

You look into his eyes. His face is tensed with passion, but softens when you say his name.

“I love you. I’m yours.”

He kisses you with a fervour that takes what is left of your breath away. You grip him tight against you with your calves, your skin aching to touch more of him, to merge into him. You cry out as he plunges into you again and again, his groans growing louder each time he bottoms out. You lean your forehead against his as his face spasms, drawing closer and closer to the edge. He erupts in a shout as he cums inside you, collapsing onto your chest.

You are quiet for a moment, listening to each other’s laboured breaths. He falls onto his side, curling against you.

You chuckle. “What did you think of what I showed you?”

He sighs. He traces the line of your jaw, the dip of your clavicle, the tip of your shoulder blade. The soft underside of your breast.

“Good gods. Did I silence the great Gale Dekarios?” You gasp. “And all it took was-”

He laughs. His finger trails up to your lip, seeking re-entry. Your tongue slides against the pad of his finger as he pushes into your mouth.

“A bit more silence, if you please,” he rasps.

His other hand moves to nudge open your legs. His face drifts down to follow. You can feel your wetness and his cum trickling down towards the cleft of your ass. Your clit throbs in the cool air as he watches you widen. 

“Now it's my turn to show you.”

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Liked this fic? You can find more of my work here.

[underdark-dreams]

Hi! I love your Rolan fics so much!! If you’re still accepting ideas, may I request one where Rolan & Tav slow dance together? The two of them just finding their own little corner away from everyone and enjoying a close moment together. Thank you! 😊

Rolan x fem!Tav

Starlight

"Happiness suits you." Sometimes a moment alone is all you need. After the Battle of Baldur's Gate is past and the dust has settled, Rolan and Tav find the steps forward.

Tags: Slow Dance, Fluff, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.5k [Read on AO3]

The high society of Baldur's Gate had its own kind of dance, and Rolan found that the steps came quite naturally to him.

He had always been made for nights like these: the main floor of Ramazith’s Tower filled with lords and ladies of the partriar families, a sea of color and chatter and pure power in one room. All of them here at his invitation.

Rolan had scarcely gotten a moment alone the entire evening. He’d expected curiosity about the new Master of the Tower, but the sheer quantity of it took him aback.

For all their influence across Baldur’s Gate and beyond, it had come as a surprise just how little these people knew about Ramazith’s Tower and its various inhabitants. Evidently many wizards were territorial creatures who hoarded their lives and their knowledge far away from prying eyes. His previous master certainly had been—even with his own student. Ramazith’s reputation was even worse somehow.

It was a legacy Rolan had no interest in continuing. Knowledge had its own kind of magic; when shared, it only multiplied. To his mind, it was also a misstep to ignore the influence that came along with the role of archwizard. He had just as much of a role in Baldurian politics as he would have to research and educate in the arcane.

Once the dust settled after the great battle for Baldur’s Gate, Rolan put his plans into action. Tonight was the first step toward change. Gathering the high families, opening up the Tower to those outside the magical arts—it was at least a start.

Yet even Rolan found himself tiring of it all after several hours of introductions and political discussions. He had retreated with wine in hand to watch the fete continue from the upper mezzanine. There was only one person left in the room who he really wished to speak with, and he found it challenging to get the timing right. 

For the umpteenth time this evening, Rolan found himself searching the floor for Tav. Even in this sea of people her figure drew his eyes as if she had him enchanted.

After months of only knowing her dressed for combat, it was unexpectedly charming to see her dressed in finery. It suited her. Her dress was cut in a simple but elegant shape, with a high neckline that flowed all the way down to the hem brushing the tops of her feet. 

The dramatic detail was in the back: a large keyhole opening which displayed a very generous glimpse of skin from her shoulder blades down to the curve of her lower back.

Rolan found himself continuously distracted by that patch of bare flesh. Throughout the evening, occasionally in the middle of conversation with a council member, his eyes had been drawn to Tav from across the room. He felt it every time she turned her back to him, and he wondered whether she had any idea what she was doing.

But she was in even higher demand than himself this evening. Unsurprising to anyone who knew her role in saving their city from the precipice of disaster. So far he’d only managed to exchange a few glances with her from across the room, though each time she had offered him a warm smile.

Rolan’s fingers nervously adjusted his own lapel. He’d changed his dress for the evening as well; his new robes were light, fine silk stitched with gold trim. Fitting attire for his new station in life.

It was an odd sensation to finally be free of the metal apprentice’s mantel that used to rest over his shoulders. He felt lighter, less encumbered—and strangely exposed because of it.

“Itchy, right?” 

Cal appeared at his shoulder, tugging on the collar of his own dress tunic. He must have interpreted Rolan’s fussing as discomfort rather than nerves. A misunderstanding Rolan was content to let him continue in.

“Enjoying yourself?” Rolan asked dryly. From Cal’s squirming, he’d already guessed the answer.

“Hardly,” Cal muttered. He gave up with his shirt and took a long drink from his goblet instead. “I barely know any of these people. Well, there’s Alfie, but she told me off for trying to talk to her.”

Rolan glanced to the small platform along the far wall below. Alfira had been almost unbearably gleeful when he’d asked to hire her musical talents for this evening. But to her credit, Rolan had to admit that she was the picture of professionalism where she stood. The gentle stylings of her lute floated to fill the spacious room around them.

“Of course she did,” Rolan told his brother. “Tonight’s important for her too, you know. Rich people always have children who need music lessons.”

Cal let out a sigh. “I guess. It’s just weird having things change so much. Tav’s still okay, though,” he added.

To Rolan’s annoyance, his brother prodded an elbow into his side. “She looks nice, right?”

“Fine. Quit it—” Rolan shooed the arm away with an irritable hand.

“Have you talked to her yet?”

“Too busy,” Rolan replied. It wasn’t quite a lie. Despite himself, he cast another glance around the faces below. Tav’s was currently absent from the crowd—he hoped she hadn’t left for the night.

“Sure,” Cal replied knowingly from beside him. But he only drained the last of his wine and turned to leave. “Just don’t wait too long, yeah? You might be busy forever.”

Rolan didn’t deign that with a response as the younger man made his way back down to the party. Cal was right, and he found there was an anxious buzzing between his ears because of it. With Tav currently nowhere to be found, Rolan decided it may be best to gather his head while he could. 

Quietly enough to not attract attention, he slipped up the stairs and out onto the wide circular balcony. A welcome breeze ruffled through his clothing as he stepped out into the starry evening. Passing through the vaulted doorway was like entering a connected but distinct new realm; the sea of voices behind him faded to a soft hum. Only Alfira’s music carried clearly outdoors and into the night. 

Rolan leaned his free hand on the cool stone railing. The peaceful air soothed his mind—he hadn’t realized that a headache had been steadily building behind his skull from hours in a room full of echoing voices. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for the invite tonight.”

Just as he’d relaxed, Tav’s voice made Rolan start. He finally caught sight of her leaning against a stone pillar to his right—her dark gown must have camouflaged her. Rolan hoped the low light had made his fluster just as unnoticeable. 

Gathering himself, he lifted his wine in her direction. “I’d be remiss to leave out the hero of Baldur’s Gate from such an event.”

Tav pulled a face at the name, but she approached with her own goblet in hand to join him at the railing. “Don’t you start,” she warned playfully. “I got enough of that inside. Had to come out here for a rest from it.”

“Not much I can do to help on that score, I’m afraid. A lot of people will be grateful to you for a long time.” Rolan watched as she settled beside him, then turned with her to look down at the cityscape below. 

From this height, the lamp flames formed strings of luminous pearls through the streets and alleys of the city. A flock of distant white sails waved in the harbor; trade ships waiting like slumbering giants for the return of first light.

“Nice view,” Tav remarked in approval.

Rolan glanced sideways at her face. For one insane moment, he considered parrying that into a compliment on her appearance. She certainly deserved one tonight. But he maintained his grip on sanity, and resisted.

“So—” Tav tilted her head to meet his eye. “How’s life in the Upper City?”

Rolan knew Tav’s expressions well enough by now to suspect she was teasing a bit. “Busy,” he answered truthfully. “So much more than I expected.”

“Everyone’s certainly curious about you,” she agreed. “If there’s one thing lords and ladies can’t resist, it’s a new face in society. This was genius, by the way—” Tav gestured her wine glass back at the gathering inside.

“Is it?” Rolan was skeptical. “It seems like the obvious move to me.” 

Tav grinned at him. “That’s what makes it so genius.”

The conversation lulled for a moment as they stood looking out over the quiet city. Rolan found that his initial nerves at being alone with her like this were melting away. Speaking with Tav was comfortable; even silence with her was comfortable somehow. Rolan was the first to break it.

“What about you? What will you do now?”

She sighed down at the view below. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’d like to stay in Baldur’s Gate if I can. Too many friends here to think about leaving.”

During the pause that followed, Rolan wondered if she counted him among them. He found it was very important to him that she did. Before he could decide whether to ask, Tav continued.

“I did get a few promising job offers tonight, if you can believe it. Including one from Lord Jannath to join his private council. Or maybe that was a euphemism,” she added.

“He’s a cad,” Rolan said immediately.

“Oh, I’m well aware of Raylen Jannath’s reputation. And I’m sure it’s entirely deserved.” Tav looked over at him with a glint in her eye. “Don’t worry. I’m no wide-eyed babe.”

“No, you’re not,” Rolan agreed. His jaw clenched with annoyance nevertheless. “But you care about doing good. Some people will always try to take advantage of that.”

“I’ll just refer them to my friend the powerful archwizard, shall I?”

Rolan exhaled a sharp breath of laughter and tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped at her choice of words.

“You’re always welcome in this tower,” he told her. “If nothing else, I hope you know that.”

Tav regarded him for a moment. The hand holding her goblet swirled the liquid inside in a thoughtful motion. “You’ve changed a lot, you know.”

He was curious what made her say such a thing. “Have I?”

“Sure you have.” Tav’s eyes still moved pensively over his face. “Back when we first met, you didn’t seem…” She searched for the word. “Well. Interested in most of the others from Elturel. And now look at the community you’ve built. Alfira tonight, helping Dannis and Bex get their teashop funded. Even Dammon says you gave him an open contract for any metalwork anywhere in the whole Tower.” 

“You’ve been talking with Lia too much.” Rolan heard the defensiveness in his own voice, but he couldn’t help it. Something about the way Tav was looking at him made his face warm.

“I’m just saying it’s nice,” she finished with a gentle smile. “I always thought you had a bigger heart than you let on.”

“Yes, yes,” Rolan drawled as he raised his goblet. Tav gave thought to his heart—that revelation required wine.

“Remember that night at the Grove?”

Rolan looked at her over the edge of his cup. “That party at your camp, you mean?”

So casual, so unpracticed—as if he didn’t think of that night often.

“Alfira played this song,” she continued.

Rolan had to pause for a moment to focus on the melody floating out to where they stood. When his ear caught the tune, he shifted on his feet. “Ah.”

He knew where she was going with this, but Tav still went on. “Danis and Bex started pairing people up, and I’d already had far too much wine…so I went on and asked you for a dance. Remember?”

“Yes.” Rolan felt a sudden urge to hang his head. 

Tav’s eyes were shining with amusement. She gestured her glass toward him in an expectant motion, as if giving him his cue. Rolan let out a very reluctant sigh.

“And I told you I wouldn’t be caught dead dancing in such an uncivilized place,” he finished.

“I believe the term you used was ‘common,’” she chuckled. “You always did have a way with words.” But then she glanced down to the drink between her hands. “Actually…it was a bit disappointing at the time.”

Rolan’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Tav looked back up at him as though he’d grown another pair of horns. “Because I wanted to dance with you, Rolan. Why else?” She shook her head as she turned back to the view. “Wizards, I swear…not everything is a riddle.”

Rolan considered her words, considered Tav where she stood beside him. Before he knew what he was doing, his fingers were reaching for the wine glass in her near hand. She allowed him to pluck it carefully from her grip; her face was a mask of puzzlement as she watched him set their drinks aside on the flat of the stone railing.

Rolan turned back to her. “Let me make it up to you, then.” He extended a hand toward her palm-up.

Tav cocked her head at him. The corners of her mouth twitched as if she thought this might be some kind of joke. For a moment Rolan felt every bit the fool, standing here with his empty hand outstretched. 

Then her fingers raised to brush across his. “Deal.”

He almost certainly had this backwards—weren’t the hands supposed to be the other way around? But there was no time to think about that now. 

Tav took a step closer, her long skirt swinging against his legs. She clasped Rolan’s forearm where it hung at his side, guided it around behind her waist, and then laid her other hand against his shoulder.

The cutout in the back of her dress resulted in Rolan’s skin meeting hers a second time. His mind had somehow neglected to prepare for that; for a few seconds it took all of his concentration to keep his movements smooth and controlled.

Tav began swaying in time with the distant music, just a gentle step side to side and back again. Rolan followed her lead. 

“Is this right?” Tav asked. With her face upturned to him under starlight, she looked somehow younger than her years and experience.

“I don’t know,” Rolan admitted. His head was too full of other things—the softness of Tav’s hand in his, the disorienting curve of her back under his palm, not to mention trying like hells not to step on her. “I’ve honestly never done this before.” 

“Oh, come on.” Tav’s expression relaxed again as they swayed back and forth together. “No sweethearts back in Elturel? I find that hard to believe.”

When was the last time you touched someone like this? Unwelcome, embarrassing, the thought nevertheless sprang to Rolan’s mind. It was certainly longer ago than he cared to admit. Then again, maybe he’d never touched someone quite like this.

“No one like you,” he decided.

At that Tav only chewed the inside of her lip and gave a thoughtful hum. Whether she sensed his discomfort or whether he’d embarrassed her himself, she didn’t ask for details. He was relieved as the subject drifted away, replaced by the distant lute song and the soft rustle of her skirt as they moved. 

After another quiet moment, he felt compelled to speak up again. “You were right before, you know. I have changed.”

“Oh?” Tav looked up at him with curiosity. But she waited patiently for him to continue. Rolan was grateful for it; finding the right words took some thought.

“I suppose I've learned that pride and arrogance aren’t the same thing. Lorroakan taught me to see the difference. As did you,” he added. He swallowed against the discomfort of vulnerability. “I was so damn arrogant then…but I wasn't proud of myself. Not really. You helped me find how to be.”

Tav’s eyes moved back and forth between his as she listened. “Then I’m glad for it. You have a lot to be proud of, Rolan.” 

An odd mixture of feelings rose in his throat; he felt humbled and pleased with himself all at once. It was impossible to put into words. Rolan only bowed his head slightly to her, and the space between them lapsed into a comfortable silence once more.

After a while, the dance relaxed into something more casual. Alfira’s lute had taken up a different tune back in the main hall. Their steps no longer kept time with the music now, drifting along with each other in a new rhythm instead. Her hand had migrated from the side of his shoulder to let her wrist hang limp by his collar. 

As they swayed together in silence, Rolan felt her fingers carding absently through the ends of his hair.

When he caught her eye, Tav’s hand stilled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he told her. “It’s not unpleasant.”

For some reason that made Tav laugh. “There you go again. ‘Not unpleasant.’ Can’t you just say something’s pleasant and have done with it?”

Though their stance was still a bit awkward, something about having her in his arms made Rolan bold. He looked straight into her face. “Then allow me to try again. You look very beautiful tonight.”

Tav’s lips parted in surprise for a moment. Then she glanced away to the side, and Rolan saw a flush of color rise to her cheek.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “So do you. Handsome, that is,” she added in a rush. “Happiness suits you.”

She had a knack for saying the most perceptive things. Right now, finding himself abruptly launched to the peak of his life’s dream, with the people he cared for safe and provided for, Rolan supposed that he was happy. All the more for the person holding his hand.

“Are you happy, Tav?”

She turned back to him slowly. As she did, her fingers happened to brush against his neck again, sending a shiver up Rolan’s spine that had nothing to do with the evening breeze around them. 

“I am,” she murmured. “Right now…very.”

For the first time tonight, Rolan became aware of just how near her face was. It was tilted slightly up to meet his, and the angle happened to leave a clear path to her mouth. It would take only the smallest movement to close the distance.

And without thinking—just for once in his life—he did. 

As he tilted his head toward her, Rolan felt Tav’s hand curl behind his neck to pull him gently forward. Their lips brushed together soft as a whisper, but the sensation ran through him clear as the ring of a bell. His fingers splayed against the warmth of her lower back, pressing her figure in closer against his own— 

“Rolan, we’ve been looking ev—”

The two of them broke apart as if jolted by electricity. Tav wheeled away, face entirely hidden and one hand clasped up to her mouth. Rolan rounded on the doorway.

“What?” He blurted out.

Cal stood there frozen in place, mouth agape, his eyes flicking back and forth between Rolan and Tav. The air between the three of them was filled with enough raw awkwardness as to make Rolan’s skin crawl.

“Nevermind,” Cal said hoarsely. “It’s—they—nevermind.”

He swiftly turned on his heel and retreated without another word, leaving the two of them standing alone again on their balcony.

But the comfortable atmosphere was gone. Rolan had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He squeezed eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing a guttural sound to rise straight from the depths of his chest.

“We’ve been alone out here for half an hour—” A few steps away, Tav’s voice was choked with laughter behind her hand. “And the second we even try to—”

Rolan worked his eyes open to glance at her. Her shoulders were shaking with amusement, causing the end of her statement to dissolve helplessly.

“This isn’t funny,” he told her weakly, even as she turned back to him and wiped tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes.

“No,” she said, biting her lip against a fresh burst of laughter. “It’s absolutely hilarious.”

Rolan passed a hand over his face with a groan. “Once, just once, I wanted things to go right with us.”

Something in the phrase quieted Tav’s laughter. Rolan met her eye then, sure she must see how mortified he was—but found a look of delight spreading across her features.

“Us?” She raised her eyebrows at him with a smile.

Rolan could only let out a defeated sigh. “Do I have to say it?”

Tav tried to look like she was seriously considering things, but she couldn’t quite fight back her smile all the way. “Not tonight,” she allowed. “I think you’ve suffered enough.”

“Thank you,” was all Rolan could say. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs from the most confusing swirl of feelings.

They looked at each other for another long moment, communicating a dozen different things without a word.

“Well…” Tav moved forward once more to loop her arm through his. Close beside him, the starlight shone in her eyes. “Shall we go in then, Rolan?”

[mishwanders-deactivated20260717]

• Dammon • Worship •

Summary: delicious bondage smut with Dammon. That’s all I can say.

Characters: Dammon x GN! Reader

A/N+Warnings: writing this because Dammon has a chokehold on me and I need to unrust my writing skills somehow. Smut, Minors DNI with this one. Written by Mishwanders, please do not repost. Reblogs, likes, and nice comments are appreciated though!

Your head hung back as you cursed his name, feeling the way his devilish tongue danced along the lines of your very sensitive skin, lips wrapped around it, refusing to let up on you until he knew he received every last drop of such a wonderful offering. Besides, with the way you had your hands wrapped around his horns, fingers molded around the ridges, pulling his face closer only to grind into his mouth, it didn’t seem like you were through either.

His eyes fluttered open momentarily to catch a glimpse of you, memorizing the very image of you while on his knees. To him you were a wonderful work of art, perfectly crafted in every way. He enjoyed every second he was able to keep his hands upon you, every moment he got to savor you like this on his lips.

He groaned as you pulled on his horns again, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through your body. He could hear your breath hitch as your hips soon began to stutter against his lips. He listened to the sound of your broken moans with a smile tugging at his lips as he tasted your essence on his tongue, drinking down every last drop of it, even after your feigned protest for him to stop.

Only after he decided you’d had enough, did he release you from his lips, placing the gentlest of kisses along to tops of your thighs, watching you still as you slowly came back down to earth, face flushed, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. It was such a lovely sight for his eyes, one of his many favorites. He’d done well with you, but he wasn’t through.

Not in the slightest.

Dammon pushed his way off of the floor making his way up to the bed with a steady crawl over you, drinking in every inch of you with his gaze. His blue eyes held a subtle warmth to them with flecks of gold surrounding his pupils, making it that much more intense. He hummed softly as you reached your hands up to his chest, fingertips trailing along every dip and curve of the ridges along the front of his body. He could feel his own chest warming up with such simple touches, as your hands continued their way up to caress his cheeks. He smiled, gazing down at you with so much affection, his words practically dripping with adoration as he spoke.

“I burn for you, my flame.”

You returned his smile with a mischievous look and Dammon understood that your desires weren’t quite quenched yet either. He dipped his head low, his lips crashing into yours as he pushed his tongue past your lips in an effort to taste you even further.

Your moan was muffled as your tongue danced with his, tasting the remnants of your essence on his tongue. Your body reacted to his as your legs spread open even further, knees ghost along the edges of his hips as he settled himself even further between your thighs.

Dammon’s rough hands began to move along the lengths of your body, memorizing every dip and curve with each caress, gently kneading the softness of your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples, pulling the taut between his fingers in an attempt to gain further reaction from you.

The melded contact of your lips break with a gasp, your head falling softly back to the bed below you as a breathy, needy moan escapes you.

He chuckles in response, enjoying just how reactive you were to him, at the smallest of actions. He trailed his lips down the line of your jaw, peppering it with the gentlest flutter of kiss until he reached the curve of your ear.

His breath was hot against your skin as he asked, “How badly do you want it?”

Your words caught in your throat as you felt his sharp teeth graze against your ear. Not hard enough to break skin, but just enough to let you know how much he could. A soft, stifled whine escaped you in answer, preferring to use your body to further draw the point across as you rolled your hips to meet his. Dammon moved his hands to your hips, pushing you back down to the bed, looking down at you with an arched brow.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” He replied in a low sultry tone. “Be good for me and I’ll give you what you desire.”

You look up at him, nodding to his request. “Yes, please. I’ll be good. I swear.”

Even with your speech, you could tell he didn’t seem fully convinced. So, you pushed it further.

“What can I do to prove it to you? I’ll do anything.”

He smiled at your simple question, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he considered what you were offering.

“Are you sure?” He asked, needing to ensure that’s what you truly wanted.

You nodded in reply again and replied softly against his lips, “Yes.”

Dammon was quick to get to his feet then, leaving you open to the blanket of cold air in the room as he stepped away and pulled out a wooden box from underneath the bed. Inside contained a variety of things, but the the two items he pulled out was a small hank of soft rope and a dark amber glass bottle of lubricant.

Dammon sat on the bed and had you turn around. His hands guided your arms behind your back, folding your forearms over the other and proceeded to begin to wrap them, binding and securing your arms in place.

He was gentle as could be, asking if it was too tight as he continued to wrap it around the length of your forearms. He was courteous enough to ensure your comfort in the situation, reminding you to use your chosen safe word if you felt uncomfortable at all with the situation and what was to come, but you assured him it was alright, that you could take what he had in mind.

Once he was done, he took his chance to admire his work on you from behind, eyes trailing up and down the recesses of your body with a low hum of satisfaction. In his eyes, you looked like a wonderful piece of art, well crafted from the forge of life.

He couldn’t wait to put his hands on you again.

Dammon started off gentle, running his knuckles down your spine, causing it to arch at his touch. His other hand joined, claw-like nails raked and grazed over the edges of your thighs, hips, and arms, watching as goosebumps erupted on your skin in their wake, hearing the soft and subtle sigh leaving your chest, hearing a bit of the pent up frustration within it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help myself.” He stated, “I enjoy this, getting to have you like this, I mean. I can’t seem to pull myself away.”

His hands trailed around to the front of your body as he moved and settled in front of you, taking hold of your chin. He gazed down into your eyes, his own pooling with lust and desire as his thumb draped over your bottom lip.

You thought he would move in to kiss you, draw you into the depths of his desire for you, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his hand wrapped around your jaw, his free hand carving its path down the front of your body until it reached its desired destination. His touch was gentle once again, determined as his fingertips began to play with you again. Your arms strained against the ropes as your body reacted to the roughness of his hands, over sensitive and shaking under his touch, chest heaving as you begged for more.

He dragged you close to the edge of release again before ruining it, his hands leaving you cold once more as a whimper escaped your throat.

“Dammon, please.” You begged

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you now.”

He took his place behind you once more, greasing up one hand before proceeding to palm himself, readying himself to slip inside you seamlessly while the other pressed on your back, guiding your chest down against the sheets before sliding his hand to soft mailable skin of your hip.

Dammon pressed the edge of his knees against your inner thighs, spreading you out wide as he guided his cock in line with you, pulling you closer until hips were flush against his, cock nestled inside.

You could feel his grip growing stronger on your hip, hearing a deep, low groan escape him as you squeezed around him, feeling every rib along the length of him.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Relax.” He cooed, gently kneading your hip in an effort to help.

You soon relaxed under his touch, feeling him begin to slowly rock his hips into yours, picking up the pace ever so slightly until he reached the perfect pace for you both.

The room filled with a mixture of your moans and the collision of your bodies in combined ecstasy with each other. Dammon enjoyed sight of the ripple of your hips against his, how your arms fought against the restraints, eyes closed as the moans spilled out of you.

But he wanted more.

Dammon slipped his hands from your hips along the lengths of your biceps, pulling you into a backbend before gripping onto your face and tilting your head back, forcing you to gaze up at him, unable to pull away. He smiled at you, gritting his teeth as he slammed his hips even harder into yours, forcing groans to escape from your throat.

Amidst every pleasurable and painful sensation that flooded your body, you could sense the curl of Dammon’s tail curling around your thigh, the pointed tip flicking back and forth along the lengths of your overstimulated core over and over again until your body was trembling in his grasp with tears in your eyes.

Dammons breath hitched and his grasp faltered. He snaked his arm down and around waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, whispering praises in your ear. “You’re doing good, sweetheart. Taking me so well.”

It was more than enough to cause you to come undone at the seams, but he pushed you over the edge as he sunk his sharp teeth into your shoulder, his voice thickened with a growl. You lost yourself amidst it all, the pleasure, the pain, the euphoria that raced through your veins. Dammon followed soon after, his hips stuttering against yours as heat flooded inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath as you both came down from your conjoined efforts. Dammon released teeth from your shoulder in the meantime, peppering kisses along your shoulder, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, taking your scent in.

Dammon would soon let you go, unravel the ropes that bound you, scooping you up into his arms and clean up the mess he’d made of you. But for now, he wanted to keep you close.

The flame to the hearth of his heart.

[bearhugsandshrugs]

Dammon/F!Tav: Hurt/Comfort

Secret santa gift for @aurasyn <3 I picked the prompt that had me go out of my hatefuck-writing comfort zone and tried filling the hurt/comfort that she craved. Hope you enjoy!

Mend What's Broken Read on AO3

The sun was already setting when Tav made her way through the Lower City. Feeling giddy as much as nervous, she kept practicing the few lines she had previously thought about saying: I was nearby and starving. I thought of you and was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me?

Two short sentences, one white lie: She had absolutely not been nearby. In fact, she’d been home the entire day, talking herself up to doing this, gathering the courage. Then, she’d picked an outfit that she’d changed four times, redoing her hair each time, desperate to find a version of her that looked good, but effortlessly good, but still sexy good, but still without any expectations good, and well, that had taken time. 

Asking out Dammon was the boldest thing she’d ever done, and she’d fought gods and vampire lords. Still, to her this was scarier, more immediate, than anything that had happened over the past months. So when Tav arrived at the smithy Dammon was running, she nearly didn’t make it in. 

What if he said no?

Gale had told her he’d be a fool to reject her, and that there was no need for her to worry. Lae’zel had offered to come with, to “tear the skin off the tiefling’s skull”, if needed. And Wyll had helped write down the lines, then rehearsed them with her. 

Memories of her friends’ support gave her the confidence boost she needed to walk in. Now or never. 

“Oh hi”, Dammon exhaled when he spotted her across the room, hammer still in hand. “One second–” 

He put his tools away, quickly wiped off his hands on a rag, and made his way over to her. “It’s always a pleasure to see you”, he nodded, a smile teasing around the corners of his mouth. 

Tav’s heartbeat quickened, I can’t do this, but this was the fourth time she was trying to ask him, and the last time she hadn’t even greeted him back, had just said she’d forgotten something at home and left. She couldn’t use another excuse like that again. Not without looking like a fool.

“Do you need anything?”, Dammon asked her, trying to break up the awkward silence that had started to settle between them, with Tav not really knowing what to say. Or rather: not knowing how to get the courage to say it. 

“I, uh-”, she shifted from one foot to the other, and the smith gave her a smile, eyes softening at the sound of her voice. “I was in the neighborhood, and I wanted to ask you if you were hungry?” 

Somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that she’d deviated from the rehearsed words. That wasn’t what she had written down, was it? But how did it go again? Tav couldn’t remember, for the life of hers. 

“Uh…” Dammon fumbled with the scarf he wore around his neck, looking awkward, “not really, I just ate, but I got some bread and cheese in the back if you like?”

Oh no. 

No, she didn’t want his pity bread. Or pity cheese. She wanted to spend time with him. 

He must think I’m pathetic–

“No thanks”, Tav mumbled so quickly Dammon barely understood her, “anyway, it was good seeing you!”

Not even waiting for a reply, she practically ran out of the store, hurrying down the cobblestone, back to the tavern, back to her room, straight to her bed. She passed the people on the streets, random faces all mixed up in a blurr: someone who tried selling her a newspaper, a young boy begging for gold, a family laughing together; and then, in the tavern, the usual suspects and guests and strangers and whoever was mixed up in the brimming atmosphere of the Elfsong. 

Tav wasn’t sure how she made it back, most part of the way home a black gap beyond the few people who’d burnt themselves into the back of her eyelids. Everything was heightened and dulled at the same time, with just one constant, drumming up in her chest: The pain. 

Oh, the way he’d turned her down hurt her. But it shouldn’t be surprising: Why would he ever consider going out with her? Spending time with her? What a ridiculous thought. Why would he… like her, beyond the most basic, mutual respect founded on trauma-bonding in the Grove and then the Shadowlands?

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she curled up on the bed, staring at the wall with her back towards the door, too distraught to even take off her boots, or to crawl under the comfort of her sheets. Small sobs shook her body while she desperately tried to muffle the sounds, crying into her balled up fists, stifling the hurt that wanted to free itself from her chest. 

There was a small knock on the door, Gale most likely, she thought, and Tav choked out a “I’m fine” before he would try talking to her. While she was usually grateful for the gentle way her friends tried to comfort her, the shame still burnt too hot for her to even attempt to explain what had happened. 

Worse, Gale knew about her plan. He would probably ask how it went…

“That’s a relief”, came a familiar voice from the other side, and Tav’s eyes went wide when she realized who was standing outside. “Can I come in?”

No. No he could absolutely not come in. 

But she couldn’t say that now, could she?

Paralyzed from the horror of maneuvering herself into a corner, Tav just laid on the bed, tears still silently spilling from her eyes, praying he’d go away by himself. 

But then the door opened. And closed. And someone walked in, pulled up her chair, and moved it close to the bed.

“So, uhm, Shadowheart let me through”, Dammon said from behind her, his voice mellow and gentle. 

Great. Now that he saw her, he’d likely never want to spend time with her again. And he would be right–

“It seems that I’ve been a bit out of practice”, he continued, “because I should have realized what you were trying to do so much sooner.” 

He chuckled nervously, and a new wave of embarrassment washed over her, shaking her body like a rag doll, with her chest heaving so blatantly obvious that the thought of him seeing her like this sent her into a spiral. More tears started to flow, more pain started to build, and soon she was sobbing again, despite her best efforts to bring that damned body of hers under control.  

“I’m so sorry”, Dammon whispered from behind her, and she didn’t need to see his face to know it was full of pity. 

“It’s okay. You can go”, Tav croaked out, desperate to cut this encounter short as much as possible. 

“I can go?” His voice sounded confused. “Tav, I… I’d love to spend time with you. That’s why I offered you dinner.”

That didn’t make sense. 

A small sob flew out of her throat, and she shook her head. 

“Oh gods”, she cried, burying her face in her hands. “I’m so… You must…”

The calm breaths from behind her revealed no stress, no bother; only patience.

“I don’t mind you crying. This is nothing I can’t handle.”

Another headshake from Tav as she tried to express her helplessness. There was nothing he could do. Nothing that she could think of, at least. Worse: Nothing she could do either, as her mind came back again and again to the fact how bad this looked. 

Shuffling behind her revealed he was not going anywhere, as the added weight of his body sank down on the bed beside her. Then his hand appeared into her field of vision, outstretched and open, hovering before her without making contact with her body. 

“Here”, Dammon said quietly, “you can hold it. If… you like.”

Tav stared at his hand for a full minute, considering if this was some sort of cruel joke, a misunderstanding, or whatever else life could have in store for her. But then his scent settled into her nostrils: Fiery smoke, warm leather, pines, and… oats?

Instead of taking his hand, she decided to sit up and look at him. Wiping at her burning face, she sniffled when she met his gaze: Patient and concerned, Dammon slowly pulled his hand away, settling it down next to her, palm still open for her to hold on to, should she want to. 

She felt so messy: her cheeks were wet from the tears and her hands couldn’t dry them quickly enough, and her nose was running, the constant sniffling making her head hurt on top of everything else.  Fumbling nervously, Tav was of half a mind to send him away again, but he looked so soft, so steady, she couldn’t help herself but cling to the fact that he’d come to see her. 

He was here, wasn’t he?

“Here”, Dammon’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he took off his blacksmith’s scarf, offering it to her. “I don’t have a handkerchief, but this might do.”

Parts of her didn’t want to accept the help, but her face stung from the tears, and she really could use the cloth to clean herself up. 

“Thanks”, she mumbled, reaching for the scarf. But her sense of coordination was still numbed, and she clumsily grabbed half of his hand when she wanted to take it from him. Blushing, she quickly dabbed at her cheeks to dry them, hiding herself from view behind the fabric. 

It smelled so nice. 

“Are you still hungry?”, Dammon asked her as if they were just having a normal conversation and she hadn’t been hysterically crying just a moment ago. Unsure how she deserved him, she nodded. 

“Yes.” Her voice was shaky and quiet, and when she dropped her hands to her lap, face finally dried, he was still sitting there, warmly smiling at the sight of her. 

“I’m an idiot, Tav”, he repeated once more, and this time, it registered. “I was overwhelmed because… I like you. And you caught me off guard–” Dammon scratched the back of his head and chuckled nervously. “But I like it. Like that you asked me. Like you.” 

Her mouth fell open as her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why are you here?” It was the first question from a series of things that didn’t make sense to her at that moment, things she only now started to unravel.

“You stormed off so quickly, I cursed myself for a few minutes before I closed down the shop and followed you”, he shrugged. “Your friends let me in. Said you could use the company.”

Tav made a short note to kill them later. Or thank them. She hadn’t decided. 

“Besides…”, Dammon continued, and she followed his eyes to their hands. He swallowed two times before he cautiously took them in his, “I’ll just keep saying it in case you’re not understanding me… I really. Really. Like you.”

Oh.

OH.

He liked her and she was behaving like a fool, unable to control herself… Another set of tears welled in her eyes and she breathed out a quiet curse, followed by a small sob. Down where her hands were entangled in Dammon’s, the tiefling gave them a short squeeze. 

“It’s okay”, he offered gently. “Or would you rather I leave?”

“No”, something in her burst out the word before she could think, and that was good, because she already regretted it the next moment. “I’m sorry that I’m… like this.”

“Emotional?”, he asked, but there was no judgment in his voice, only genuine curiosity. 

“Weak”, Tav sighed, and her reply was met with a hearty laughter. 

“Come on”, Dammon smiled, “You’re the strongest person I know. Which, if I may, makes you so goddamn impressive.” He chuckled, and Tav spotted the slightest blush on his cheeks. “That, and many other things.”

“Are you serious?”, Tav asked weakly, still in disbelief about it all. 

“Oh, yes.” Nodding, Dammon held her gaze, his thumbs stroking over the back of her hands in steady, calming motions. 

They sat like that for a while, enough for Tav’s body to quiet down. When she felt ready, she gave his hands a light squeeze, then looked up at him. 

“Thank you for coming”, she said nervously, and the smile that spread on his face was wider than any she’d ever seen. 

Dammon beamed. “Are you ready to head out? Or would you rather stay in?” 

It was still early, but she wasn’t really in the mood to leave now. “Honestly… if we could stay here…”

“I got it”, he nodded and stood up from the bed, Tav letting go of his hands reluctantly. “I’ll order you some food, and us some drinks, and we can spend some time talking. Or…” His eyes fell onto the bed, but he dragged them away, forcing himself to look over to the table by the window. “Or play some cards.” 

She knew her cheeks were likely flushed, but she didn’t care. Not when he was this charming and self-assured, unbothered by her crying or needing to be in a familiar place. So when she replied, it was heartfelt: “I’d like that.”

He smiled at her, holding her gaze with an earnest expression that peeked behind the mask she usually put on. Oh well. He’d already seen more than most anyway… But there was more to it, something promising, and when he spoke again, his firm and gentle tone sent her heart into a stutter. 

“Good. Me too.”

[master-of-junk]

Two sides of the same coin: Dammon x reader

Another user (Killerpancakeburger) brought this idea up in a post and I thought I’d write about it.

_ - _ - _ - _

You groaned slightly stretching your sore body in the chair you had dozed off in.

Raising your head quickly, you tiredly looking around, straining your ears to hear any movement in the house. Receiving nothing but silence, you sigh pawing at your eye, glancing out the kitchen window of your shared home to see your husband’s forge fire still glowing brightly despite the moon being fairly high into the sky indicating just how long you had allowed him to run rampant.

This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Dammon loved smithing. It was one of the few things that did start a fire in the otherwise kind and loving teifling you had fallen for. You admired him for his commitment to his work, and even more for the time he took to improve his craft and skills. However, what you didn’t appreciate was the time it took away from your time with him in bed.

You cherished your sleep but often refused to go to bed until dammon came in so that you two could go and lay down together and cuddle.

Grudgingly you pulled on your boots and a blanket and trudged out into the cold crisp night air. It had began getting colder recently with the changing from summer to fall. You muttered as you waddled along the stone path “Hells! Fuck!” You suck in a quiet breath not liking a particular small but cold gust of wind that hit you at just the right angle to invade the safety of the warm blanket you had around your body

Your ears pick up the sharp sounds of his hammer tempering metal and then the sizzle as he cools it in water. You round the corner of the work area to the entrance and stand there waiting for him to notice you. Alas, after a few minutes of standing there- you realize he’s so invested in his work that he doesn’t even see you. With a huff of frustration, you reach out and grab his tail giving it a sharp tug making the man let out a particular high pitched yelp and he turned to face your cute but tired and cranky expression.

Dammon knows as soon as his eyes land on you that he’s spent far too long with his own devices. Then again, it’s not everyday you fall asleep in the evenings allowing him to get so lost. He chuckled anxiously “Love! It’s cold out here! Why aren’t you in bed?” You stay silent but merely narrow your eyes at him. His pointed ears twitch down ward slightly and his tail flattens down between his legs as he gives you a sheepish smile “I’ll go ahead and shut everything down my love. Go lay down and I’ll be there soon.” You huffed turning away “You better be.” You waddled back inside to your shared bedroom and nearly collapsed onto the bed waiting for the man. Slowly your eyes begin to drift shut again after waiting so long, it’s not until an hour or so later that you jolt awake realizing you’re still alone. You muttered “That’s it.” You get up discarding the blanket and storming back outside to the forge. Not being so quiet this time, dammon tenses up hearing the door slam.

He’s already realized his grave mistake by the time you round the corner given he’s trying to shut everything down in panic. He started “Oh! I was just shutting down the forge-Ah!” He let another yelp escape him as you grab his tail with both of your hands and forcefully started dragging him towards the house.

Dammon tried bargaining “L-Love please my tail-Ah! Ah! Ow! Darling!”

- - - -

Dammon groaned and shifted his head slightly as the early morning sunlight touched his face, letting him know it was time to start the day. He let a yawn leave his chest before he shifted to your sleeping form.

Dammon smiled as his warm hand gently traced your body “Darling…” he began planting kisses on your upper arm first, then trailing them up your shoulder, and to your face making you shift slightly and let out as tired still half asleep hum to question him “It’s time to get up, it’s morning love.” His expression flattened though as you curled more into the sheets and blankets murmuring “Just a little longer…”

Dammon rolled his eyes knowing what ‘Just a little longer’ meant. Dammon knew you fairly well, that was his job after all as your husband, but if it’s one thing he always knew about you, it’s that you were absolutely not, under any circumstances a morning person. He also found your crankiness in the morning to be exceptionally cute though, unless it was directed at him. Over the years though, he knew exactly how to get you out of bed without a single glare.

He got up and got ready for the day and went through his morning process of starting his forges fire. While his forge was heating up, he went back inside to the kitchen and began pulling all sorts of ingredients and spices out from the cabinets and cellar. Putting water to boil, he began cooking breakfast for you. Ensuring everything was just the way you liked it.

His tail swished absentmindedly behind him as he stirred your coffee adding just a touch of cream to it before hearing your tired, higher pitched sleepy voice carry out “Dammon?…” he smiled turning and seeing you still in one of his shirt from last night “Good morning love! Here have a seat.” You took the coffee from him yawning but commenting tiredly “Your food always smells so good.” Dammon smiled fondly serving you a plate full of your favorite breakfast foods. He sat down enjoying his own plate, you happily ate your meal and drank the coffee before leaning toward him and planting a kiss on his cheek “Thank you love. I’m gonna freshen up a bit and then get to work.” Dammon nodded watching you head back to the room, a fond smile on his face as his tail swished similarly to a cat “Works like charm every time~” before he let out a small laugh and headed out to do his own work.

[ilgattopatata]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Relationship: Dammon/Karlach/Wyll

Summary:

“Karlach, before you go.” Hearing his voice was enough to make her stop and look at Astarion, excited. “What is it?” Astarion leaned on the banister and looked at the people downstairs. “You and Wyll get along well, I noticed,” he said, shooting a glance at the warlock. Astarion doesn't pass an opportunity to have some fun at the expenses of a pining trio.

[haru-sen]

A Link in the Chain (NSFW)

This a Through the Gates of Horn and Oak AU oneshot. While dealing with Act II issues, Karlach invites Tav to join her and Dammon to blow off steam. For this AU, Tav accepts the offer, with Halsin's blessing. Also, this Tav is gender neutral, because experimenting.

Thanks @ada-melodies for the beta read.

CW: Bondage, threesome, sex, dirty talk, biting

Buying such a thing wasn’t a necessity. It was foolish to custom order then carry around something that did not increase your chances of survival. You were letting yourself get distracted by decadent comforts instead of prioritizing finding a cure-

You were apparently also channeling Lae’zel, which was never a good sign.

You immediately reevaluated your apprehension. You were in dire need of some personal time, and your main outlet since leaving the Grove was just battle. While it was an effective way of working out your unpleasant feelings, it often left you sore and cranky. You could die horribly any day now, and not only would you be dead, you would have died tragically pent-up. Simply awful.

Asking for this was going to be awkward though. And yet, Karlach had gone out of her way to loudly tell you about the things Dammon was making, as well as how much she enjoyed using them with him. She also jokingly invited you to join them, which Halsin insisted was not a joke. Given what you already suspected about the blacksmith, you weren’t going to scandalize him. But he would absolutely roast you for it.

And you knew, that Karlach wasn’t just sharing this as a brag. You were not ignorant of how the others looked at you and you were not unaffected by their admiration. The situation was dire, and you had been dealing with a lot. Perhaps you would take Karlach up on her invitation. There was a big difference between investing in your own burgeoning relationships, and guesting in another’s.

##

Dammon sipped his water, and grinned up at you from his seat on a crate. His look was far too knowing, and you understood that he and Karlach most definitely discussed her invitation. He patted the crate beside him, and you sat down, basking in the heat of the forge.

He watched you intently, those pretty blue eyes bright and lively. He leaned closer. “Karlach said I should expect you.” He gave you a demure smile, a little too earnest to be coquettish, but that was part of his charm.

“Oh? Why’s that?” you asked, keeping your tone casual.

His eyes widened and he swallowed awkwardly, suddenly frozen in place.

You gazed at him questioningly, like you honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

His cheeks flushed and he looked down, suddenly breathing hard. He hurriedly put his drink aside, hands balling into fists in his lap. Oh, he was adorable flustered.

“She uh...really didn’t say?” he stammered.

You shrugged, feigning confusion. A better person would have shown him mercy, but honestly, Dammon had been teasing you about your personal life since you met him in the Grove. He deserved to suffer a little.

You crossed your legs and stared expectantly at him.

“You uh...have something you wanted custom made?” he offered, looking around desperately, sweat beading around his brow.

“I do,” you said, maintaining a cheerful demeanor.

Dammon exhaled loudly, mustering a polite smile. “Of course, what would you like? New armor, weapon-”

“No, something like what you made Karlach,” you said, keeping your tone professional.

He cocked his head to the side. “Infernal engine parts?”

“The enchanted restraints,” you said.

Dammon stiffened. “Hells,” he breathed, eyes big. “Umm...yes, I can do that? I’ll need your input on the...specifications. The enchantments aren’t a smithing specialty, but I do know...several.” He met your gaze, cheeks flushed again. “I’m happy to go over them with you, if you aren’t certain what you want.”

“I know exactly what I want,” you said firmly. “And this is a commission, so I do expect some discretion.”

“O-of course,” Dammon murmured. He chewed on his bottom lip, looking like he wanted to say more, but unsure if he should.

You folded your hands in your lap, enjoying the spectacle. “And if you and Karlach want to help me test them out, that is another matter entirely. One I am open to trying.”

Dammon raised his head, his eyes dark, his breathing shallow. “By Tymora’s tits, Tav, you’re a vicious tease.”

You smirked at him. “You’re cute when you’re squirming.”

Dammon tilted his chin up. “I’m sure you will be too.”

Your brows went up. “Oh?”

“If you already talked to Karlach, then you know it’s a package deal, and maybe you’re just meant to be the filling in our tiefling sandwich.” He grinned at you smugly.

“Is that so?” you asked, resting one palm on your cheek. “Well, just to give me an idea of your interests, what don’t you want me to do?”

“I’m open to anything,” he said a little breathlessly, his smile wide. “But don’t worry, I don’t want to do anything that you don’t like. Neither does Karlach. We’ll be good to you.”

You laughed. Oh, that naive boy. He was darling. “I see. Well, let’s hammer out the details of the order, and then I’ll let you get back to work. We can discuss the demonstration later.”

He beamed at you, a little extra swagger in his step as he explained the available options, his tail occasionally brushing against you, his calloused fingers lingering on your arm.

Dammon was so eager to assure you that he would be careful with you, that sweet silly boy. The day some cute little civilian could overwhelm you was the day you would have to give up adventuring for good.

##

“He said “anything,” with absolutely no limits,” you said shaking your head as you finished your dinner at Karlach’s tent. “So that’s why I’m asking you instead of him.”

Karlach chuckled, crossing her arms. “I mean, he looks innocent, but he isn’t actually that clueless.”

“Uh-huh,” you said.

“So maybe he’s a little overexcited,” she laughed. Her gaze drifted for a moment. “Is this acceptable for…?”

“Yes,” you said. “At least, he says so. I guess we’ll find out if he means it.”

Karlach nodded thoughtfully. “For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure he is actually fine with it,” you said. “And you?”

Karlach’s grin was positively devilish. “You already know the answer to that.”

Out of everyone, Karlach and Lae’zel were the two you trusted to keep intimate arrangements separate from your every day lives: Karlach because she could compartmentalize and Lae’zel because that’s just how she was. “He’s still not entirely used to receiving,” she said. “Fingers, my tail, his plug, but…”

“I have made many men cry with just my hands,” you smirked.

Karlach raised a brow, realizing exactly who you were referring to. “Pulling their tails doesn’t count.”

“Oh, I did more than that,” you winked.

Karlach eyed you speculatively. “You’re certainly aggressive lately.”

“Yeah,” you said, looking away for a moment. “Yeah. That’s why I’m trying to be really clear about the limits. I don’t want to overstep...but I’m also not in the mood to let your sweet sunshine boy top me. It didn’t sound like that was a requirement. Is it?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Karlach laughed and patted you on the back. “He’ll get over his disappointment.”

“So what does he like?” you asked.

“He likes bondage and some impact play, but you’re right, he is a novice.” Karlach sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “His eyes are bigger than his hole.”

You nodded. “Anything you think I should know? Rules?”

“He loves dirty talk,” Karlach said thoughtfully. “Go light on the degradation though. Nothing about being a tief. I know some people like that, but-”

“Understood.” You nodded somberly. You certainly knew why it would be poor manners to tread that territory without express invitation. “So if I want to punish him...and I do, how does this sound?” You told Karlach your thoughts.

She cackled, clearly delighted. “This is not going to go the way he expected.” She put an arm around you. “And what about us?”

“I’m open to trying things,” you said, tilting your head back to look at her. “But I’m no sweet blushing blacksmith.”

“That much,” Karlach said, her tail sliding along your thigh. “Is very obvious.”

##

“I didn’t know this was down here,” Dammon said as you finished lighting the torches and securing the room. Out here you could prioritize privacy, comfort, or security, and you rarely got more than one of them. But after you cleared the secret rooms branching off the cellar, well, you at least had privacy and security.

Karlach, the unsinkable romantic, brought a basket of blankets, a picnic lunch, and candles. It was more planning than she usually demonstrated.

Dammon was out of his smithing leathers and dressed down in a soft sage green tunic and brown pants. He carried a backpack, and he looked around the hidden room with clear interest.

You stretched lazily, cracking your neck as you looked over the wooden table. You went to sit on it and Dammon came to join you.

“So did you want to try it on?” he asked, watching you with a wide smile, a lock of wheat blonde hair falling loose from his bun.

“I think it’s your job to demonstrate how well your creation works, Dammon,” you said, clicking your tongue. “I can’t be the one wearing it if I’m supposed to learn how to use it.”

Dammon coughed, his eyes getting very big as he looked between you and Karlach.

“It’s a good point, Blue,” Karlach said cheerfully. “You’re going to have to show us how it’s done.”

Dammon’s breath caught. “I-I see.” His cheeks flushed as he slowly opened the bag.

You reached over, gently brushing your fingers against the nape of his neck. “That is, if you’re comfortable with it?”

Dammon leaned into your touch, still smiling. “Of course. Karlach’s here.” He looked up at her, dewy-eyed and eager, the intimacy of that expression making your chest clench.

“Karlach’s an excellent protector,” you said agreeably. “What’s your safe word?”

“Crucible,” he said, breath hitching. “Triple tap if I can’t speak.”

You nodded.

Dammon handed you a reel of fine black chain, the links no bigger than your fingernail. There were three attached cuffs branching off the chain. You unwound the restraints, admiring the light weight and the fine craftsmanship.

“The cuffs resize to fit the wearer when you activate this glyph,” he said, pointing to a symbol engraved in the metal. “The emergency release is here.” He pointed to a tiny latch located on the edge of each band. “But you can say “solvo” if you’re otherwise occupied.” The cuffs immediately clicked open.

“Very nice,” you said, running your nail along the release.

“The chain lengthens up to five meters, as long as you keep pulling and the cuffs aren’t shut. Oh, you can change appearance as well with prestidigitation.” He activated the enchantment, and the chains went from black to silver to gold to white to a distinct shade of azure, one that matched his eyes.

“I think the blue looks nice.” You were not a fan of silver chains, not any more.

Dammon nodded, then looked at Karlach for reassurance.

She was drinking a tankard of beer, watching you both with eager eyes and a sharp smile. “Enough talking. Let’s see how it works.”

“Are you going to strip? Or do you want me to unwrap you?” you asked him with a toothy smile.

Dammon considered it for a moment, then pulled his shirt off and began unbuckling his belt. He fumbled twice before actually unfastening it. Biting his lip, he folded his shirt and set it aside. The man worked for a living and despite his boyish looks, underneath the clothes he was mostly lean muscle, more on the wiry side than Karlach, but still very attractive. His tail lashed from side to side as he kicked off his boots and removed his pants. His cock was still soft, bronze and uncut with a few ridges. It was wider than you expected.

Karlach wolf-whistled.

You just watched him appreciatively, his entire body flushing as he looked between the two of you.

“So, I do the hands first?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Lay back on the table then.”

Shivering, Dammon did as you instructed. You placed his hands over his head, and fastened the cuffs on to his wrists.

Then you took the collar and carefully locked it around his neck.

“Can you release yourself?”

Dammon exhaled, and thumbed one of the latches on his wrist. The cuffs opened back up in synchronization. You repeated the test with the verbal trigger, and each release latch.

“I know my work, Tav,” Dammon said, after the last test, sounding impatient. “Have I given you any reason to be concerned about the quality?” There was a distinct irritation to his voice, and it was quite cute.

“I trust your work,” you said, fastening the restraints once more. “I just want to make sure that you know how to get out in a hurry, if you need to.”

His breath caught, and he grinned up at you. “Change your mind about being-”

“Boy, if you decide to push me, you’ll be crawling into the forge tomorrow,” you said gripping his chin, your smile sharp.

Dammon shuddered, and his cock stiffened. “Hells,” he muttered.

You winked at Karlach, who raised her tankard to you. You stroked the base of his horns, and he started to squirm. His facial ridges were less pronounced than other tieflings you knew. It made him look younger.

“You are so pretty. Karlach is a lucky lady.” He lay nude, stretched out on the table, his wrists bound over his head, with you standing over him. “You might consider some piercings. These nipples would be adorable with rings in them.” You ran your thumbnail over the pebbled flesh and he squirmed.

“We’ve been talking about a cock piercing,” Karlach volunteered. “Just need to find someone experienced to do it. Think Halsin knows anyone?”

“Halsin might be the experienced one,” you snickered. “Or Astarion, though…” you shook your head. “I’d bet good money that Gale knows someone too.”

There was a flicker of heat as something traced your wrist. You looked down to see Dammon’s tail brushing against your arm.

“Eager, aren’t you?” you asked. “What were you hoping for today?”

“If I can’t get you to ride me, I at least wanna taste you,” he groaned.

“Tempting, you do have a pretty mouth,” you murmured, dragging your fingers along his lips.

Dammon’s tongue flicked out and curled around your fingertips before he began to suck, moaning as you let him take two fingers down to the knuckle.

“Good boy,” you said, stroking his hair, your fingers now slick. You circled to the other end of the table, running your damp fingers along the underside of his half-hardened cock.

Dammon gasped, his eyes fluttering shut. He arched underneath you, keeping his legs spread to give you easy access.

You lightly squeezed his shaft, and he sighed in pleasure, gazing up at you with color blooming in his cheeks. You rubbed your thumb along the ridges, recalling just how good that texture felt inside you. You stroked him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him lengthening in your hand. Your other fingers lightly drummed against his tight pucker.

Dammon’s hips jerked up, and he flashed you a delighted smile. He bit his lip as you lowered your head to licked the tip of his cock. “Tav-”

“Mmm?” you asked, tongue swirling around the velvety soft flesh. His skin burned hotter than yours. He tasted like salt, sweat, and smoke, with the faintest whiff of iron. Grinning up at him you slowly swallowed him down, taking him to the root.

“Hells-” he gasped.

“Well, aren’t you getting spoiled?” Karlach chuckled. Her boots thudded against the stone as she circled around you to inspect her lover. She stroked his cheek, and he seemed to relax under her touch.

“You didn’t-” his breath hitched. “You didn’t warn me!”

“You’ve met Tav, right?” Karlach laughed. “That’s its own warning.”

You raised your head, giving her a sardonic look. “What did you think was going to happen, Dammon? That Karlach would hold me down and you’d get a chance to fuck your cum deep inside me? Did you think you’d be able to make me beg?” Your tongue flicked along the slit of his cock, tasting the pearly liquid leaking from the tip.

Dammon’s answering moan was low, delicious, and very telling.

Karlach gave you a contemplative look, like she was considering that option. “That does sound fun,” she said.

You just shook your head at her and pulled off your shirt.

Dammon watched you in a daze as you unfastened your pants and stripped down. If you had cuter undergarments, you could have really blown his mind, but you were not in the city, and sadly, fancy lingerie was not a priority.

You climbed astride him, palms flat on his chest, your knees resting on either side of his hips.

“I don’t care what you do to me,” Dammon said with a breathless laugh. “As long as you’re on top of me like this.”

“You’re adorable,” you told him, and leaned over to nip his bottom lip. It was a gentle bite, and he yielded to you immediately, opening his mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. He squirmed underneath you, tail rubbing against your thigh as you gripped his chin. You lowered your head, tongue tracing the tips of his ears.

Dammon keened softly.

“He’s sensitive there,” Karlach said, watching you closely. “Likes it when you pull his hair too.”

You obliged him, holding him at an angle so you could suck on his throat. The pressure was light – Karlach did not want you to leave too many marks on him.

Dammon’s cries grew louder and you felt him bucking underneath you. “So responsive,” you breathed. “I could do this for hours.”

“You’re meaner than you look,” he exhaled.

“Yes,” you nodded, smiling down at him. “I certainly didn’t sweet talk those goblins to death.”

“Could have,” Karlach said breezily.

“Didn’t though.” You ran your thumb along Dammon’s Adam’s apple, watching his eyes widen under your grip.

Dammon groaned. “You’re a lot more dangerous than you look.” A breathy moan as you lightly squeezed. “I-I like that about you.”

“I’ve noticed,” you said, tilting your head back. “You certainly like trying to tease me. Were you hoping I’d corner you like this? Discipline you for pushing me?”

He swallowed loudly. “Maybe.”

“Or were you hoping I’d bring someone else along?” You glanced over at Karlach.

She gave you a toothy grin.

“That too,” he sighed. “Never could get the Commander to notice me and I was too shy to approach the Archdruid.”

You froze for a moment. Most people didn’t want to talk about Zevlor now.

Karlach chuckled. “I told you, Tav. He only looks innocent.”

“You also said his eyes are bigger than his hole, which I’m inclined to agree with,” you said, running your fingers over Dammon’s lips.

His tongue flicked out, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “Spend a lot of time alone in my forge. Gives me time to think.”

You looked over his well-muscled frame. “You’re clearly doing more than just thinking.”

He flushed in pleasure, a raw hunger on his face. “Let me up, Tav. I’ll show you exactly what kind of things I’ve been thinking about.” You laughed. “Karlach, want to help me?” You rose up on your knees and tilted your head back, grinning at her.

She embraced you from behind, the heat of her body making you shiver. Her tail wrapped around your waist, those hot calloused hands sliding down your sides.

Her lips brushed the side of your neck and you growled, watching Dammon narrow his eyes, his teeth clenched. The sweet boy could not stand being left out, and you didn’t blame him.

Your breath caught as Karlach nibbled on your neck. “You wanted the special oil, soldier?” she asked, the engine in her chest purring as she slid two slick fingers between your legs and began stroking you.

“Tymora’s tits,” Dammon breathed as his lover pushed her fingers inside you.

You bit your lip. Karlach’s hands were bigger than yours and the stretch had your eyes fluttering shut.

“Tighter than I expected,” Karlach murmured, licking a stripe along your neck. “You really have been neglecting yourself.” She pushed her fingers deeper, spreading you wider.

You shuddered, meeting Dammon’s darkening gaze.

“She’s good at that, isn’t she?” he purred underneath you. “Makes me squirm for her.”

“You look good squirming,” you told him, your voice husky.

“He does.” Karlach chuckled, pumping her fingers in and out of you slowly. “But I bet you would too.”

“I don’t deny that,” you said, but did not squirm. You kneaded Dammon’s thighs, feeling the muscles tense as his cock bobbed beneath you. You leaned back, pressing light kisses to Karlach’s jaw.

“Mmm, look at you, downright sweet when you want to be,” she said and covered your mouth with hers. She tasted like smoke and wine, her tongue slipping past your lips. She was eager and insistent, and kissing her left you with her fire under your skin, her embers on your tongue, the breath of a dragon in your lungs. You were aglow with her scorching radiance, in danger of burning up under her touch, and it was glorious.

Sweat trickled down your brow and you reluctantly broke away, feeling almost weak from the heat.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

Karlach pulled her fingers out of you, giving you one last smug peck on the cheek. “Go get him, soldier.”

Dammon laughed. “She makes you smolder,” he said, watching Karlach with adoration that bordered on reverence. “Not so cocky now, are you?”

You leaned over him, kissing him hard with the memory of Karlach’s flames on your lips. He moaned into your mouth, hips jerking up, his cock rubbing against your thighs.

“I like your mouth, Dammon. I like how much trouble it’s going to get you in,” you told him, breaking the kiss.

Dammon grinned up at you. “Between Avernus and the forge, I’m used to the heat, Tav. Everything gives at some point, and with the right combination of heat, pressure, and force I can bend anything, even you.”

You laughed in delight and sunk down onto his cock in one stroke.

Dammon arched, a sharp cry escaping his throat.

“That’s a good line,” you said, one hand gripping his neck. “But your timing is off.”

Dammon blinked rapidly, hiccuping as he stared up at you, his lips parted, a strangled sound coming out.

“That’s the kind of thing you say when you have me tied up and bent over.” You patted his cheek gently. “Which you clearly do not.”

He gave a choked laugh. “Tymora’s tits Tav, you’re fucking mean.”

“No, I’m fucking you,” you said. “You might have your cock inside me, but there’s no mistaking that I’m the one who’s fucking you. It’s not who’s on top or whose anatomy is where. It’s who can take control, who can make the other person burn. I would think that being with Karlach has taught you that much.”

Dammon shuddered beneath you, his cock twitching inside you, the ridges dragging against your walls. You slanted your hips just so and squeezed your inner muscles, just to watch his eyes roll back in his head.

“Fuck,” Karlach breathed, her hands running down your back. She could easily overpower you. She could pin you down and seize control. But that wasn’t exactly who Karlach was. She was not submissive and she certainly was not weak. If you asked her to dominate you, oh she would, and she would be spectacular. But outside of battle, she lacked that predatory instinct, that not-quite cutthroat mentality that characterized you.

You rocked your hips, humming softly as you took Dammon to the hilt.

He gasped.

Karlach circled back around to him, stroking his brow. “How’s it feel?”

He gave a low moan. “Like I’m the one getting fucked. “

You chuckled and kept the same steady rhythm, taking your pleasure from him. You thumbed your nipples before reaching over to pinch his.

“You can go faster,” Dammon groaned, lips parted as he panted beneath you, his tail winding around your calf.

“I know,” you said, not changing your tempo.

Dammon raised his hips, tail tightening around your leg as he tried to bounce you on his thighs, but you just rose higher, lifting yourself off his cock. Palms flat on his chest, you shook your head, smirking at him.

“Down boy.”

He gave a snarl of frustration, a savage light flashing in those pretty blue eyes. Fist clenched over his head, he glared at you. Oh, Dammon had spine, you’d seen hints of that fire when he worked with infernal metals, his eyes alight with an unholy passion. “I’m going to enjoy seeing you on the other side of these chains, Tav. And you can rest assured that I’ll get my due.”

You kissed him again, grinning as he nipped your lip. “You’re fucking adorable.”

Karlach laughed. “Hells, Tav, this is the maddest I’ve seen him and I’ve broken one of his hammers.”

“Innocent mistake, love,” he said, giving her a fond look. But he narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re doing this intentionally.”

“I am.” You held eye contact, watching him take labored breaths, sweat beading around his horns. You could taunt him more, edge him till he cried or broke out of the chains. You could goad him into misbehaving and then properly punish him for his transgressions. But instead you would take a page from Sune, and give a little. You would balance the echo of his need and let your own lust resonate with his desires. It would not do to break Karlach’s lover on the first go.

You sunk back down onto his shaft, and he flinched, a low moan escaping his throat. You rolled your hips, your weight on your knees as you began to speed up, taking Dammon is short deep thrusts, his girth stretching you deliciously, the texture of his ridges pulsing against your walls.

Gritting his teeth, Dammon rocked his hips, moving with you. This time he did not try to change your rhythm or seize control.

“Good boy,” you purred, leaning forward to kiss his throat.

He tilted his head back, moaning as you nuzzled his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You look so good,” Karlach murmured to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, love,” he groaned through clenched teeth, his gaze on her warm and hazy. “But I’d enjoy Tav more if I were out of these chains.” The sharpness returned when he looked at you.

“That sounds like a “you” problem,” you said cheerfully and bit down.

He yelped, hips jerking upward as he thrust deep into you.

“Keep copping an attitude with me, Dammon. I’ll edge you all day and it will be Karlach who decides when you come, long after I leave,” you said, nipping the tip of his ear.

His eyes fluttered shut and he took several deep breaths, his body shaking. “ ‘m sorry, Tav. I’ll be good,” he mumbled, and then opened his eyes, giving you the most piteous expression.

You smoothed his hair out of his face. “Prove it.”

He tilted his head back, offering you his throat, hips still moving with yours. “What would you have of me?”

“You’re going to hold off on coming till you have permission. Let’s see how long your endurance lasts while I fuck you.” You slipped your hands between your thighs, stroking yourself while you rode him.

Dammon’s eyes darted between your hands and your face. Need, restraint, resentment, and finally acceptance flashed across his features in rapid succession. “All right, I really want to watch you fall apart on me,” he exhaled. “I can endure a lot, Tav.”

“Good.” You began to move faster, hips shaking as you dropped back down onto him, his breath catching as he released a filthy moan. Your hand moved faster as you chased your own release. You were going to make a mess of his lap and see how long he would last beneath you.

Dammon’s tail moved along your thigh, rubbing against you as he stared up at you, biting his bottom lip with a desperate look of concentration on his face.

“Remember, you can’t come yet,” you purred, as he twitched and squirmed beneath you. “But hold out as long as you can, and I’ll reward you.”

Dammon gritted his teeth, nodding his assent as you clenched around him. The chains and collar sparkled prettily and he writhed as you bounced on his cock, fucking yourself deeper and harder than he had the leverage to. The strokes grew faster, the crown of his thick shaft hitting that delicious spot for you, the ridges rubbing you in a way that made your head spin.

Panting, you tensed, your own fingers moving faster as you urged yourself toward the edge.

The fierce hunger on Dammon’s face grew: watching you satiate yourself only intensified his need.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Want to see you come undone. Want to feel you shaking around me. Been thinking about this for a long time, but the reality is so much more intense-”

The thought of shy polite Dammon stroking himself in his bunk while thinking of you made your core clench in pleasure. You grinned down at him. “Harder,” you growled.

Dammon obediently raised his hips, his thighs slapping against your ass as you rode him.

Then two strong arms wrapped around you, Karlach’s hands stroking your chest as she nibbled on your ear. “Come on, soldier,” she rumbled. “If you’re going to torment him, let’s at least give him a show.”

She nuzzled your neck and you moaned as she sunk her teeth into your shoulder. One of her hands covered yours, putting more pressure on you. Karlach was so warm, her touch firm, and you arched, wailing as she carried you over the edge.

Dammon snarled, his blue eyes locked on yours as you came on his cock, while Karlach helped him finish you off.

Breathing hard, you rested your head against her chest. She kept stroking you through your orgasm, the overstimulation finally making you squirm.

Dammon squeezed his eyes shut and stopped moving, teeth gritted.

Karlach tipped your head back and kissed you lightly. “I’m feeling left out, soldier.”

“Come up here then.” You licked your lips. “Dammon’s mouth is free. “

“But what if I want your wicked tongue?” she cooed.

You chuckled. “Then I’ll eat your pussy till you’re satisfied.” You lifted yourself off Dammon and spun around to face her, before sinking back down onto him.

Karlach was nude, giving you a good view of her tattoos, scars, and wonderfully thick muscles. Grinning, you flicked your tongue across her nipples, her skin almost searing hot.

She gripped your hair. “Going to make a mess all over your face then.”

You groaned as she pushed your head between her thighs, her vulva slick and almost steamy as you ran your tongue over her lower lips. You pushed into her heated folds, her juices already smearing across your cheeks. She tasted good, tangy, with a hint of that blasting powder bite. You raked her thighs with your nails, chuckling as she pulled your hair.

“Tyche’s crooked soul,” Dammon gasped.

“You can’t give Tav a chance to talk, not if you want to keep the upper hand,” Karlach purred. “I just want your mouth, you hear?”

Pressing your tongue inside her, you ran your hands up her thighs, and then gripped her ass. You buried your face in her cunt, the blade of your tongue applying increasing pressure to her clit.

“Knew that clever mouth would be good at this,” she groaned. “Should have done this ages ago-”

Your teeth grazed her sensitive flesh and she shivered. You laughed softly.

“Hells,” she growled. “You’re a fucking menace.”

You just rolled your hips, feeling Dammon tense inside you as you bounced between him and Karlach. Eyes closed, you moaned, slurping at her hole, the sounds wet and obscene. She ground her pelvis against your face. You squeezed her ass, kneading those firm muscles under your fingers. She tensed, her legs twitching, her breathing ragged.

“Getting close, just a little more,” she groaned.

“Solvo,” Dammon snarled, and there was the tinkling of metal. Suddenly a pair of burly arms wrapped around you as he thrust harder into you. His calloused fingers slid between your thighs, already zeroing in on your sensitive flesh.

You moaned against Karlach’s slit, not immune to their teamwork.

“Told you you’d look good between us,” Dammon panted, his words more desperate than smug. He canted his hips, driving himself deeper inside you. “Love-” He gasped, but just from the tone, you knew he was addressing Karlach.

You squeezed the base of her tail then, massaging that tender spot that had her arching into you.

“Fuck,” Karlach’s voice cracked, the beginnings of a sob welling up in her throat.

Dammon’s arms were around your body, Karlach’s thighs bracketed your head. You held her close, sucking on her clit, the three of you entwined together almost too tightly.

“Let me see you, love-” Dammon’s sweet voice begged.

Karlach shuddered, her body stiffening before she gave a raw howl. Her fingers dug into your shoulders. More of that slick tangy cum flooded your mouth and you lapped at her greedily.

Dammon swore. He bucked his hips, drilling you deeper. “Let me taste-” he growled.

Karlach released you, breathing hard.

“He’s so greedy for you,” you laughed. “Not that I blame him.”

“Shut up, Tav,” Dammon muttered, breath hitching as he turned your chin, kissing you hard. Your whole face was damp with her slick and as soon as he tasted her, the allegedly shy smith began to pound you with all that force he promised earlier.

You swore, a strangled cry escaping your throat as he knocked the air out of you with his thrusts.

“Fuck that’s hot-” Karlach panted.

You writhed on the end of Dammon’s cock, eyes fluttering shut as his thighs slapped against your ass at a hard pace. He held on tight, his chest pressed to your back, his fingers digging into your hips. He gasped for breath, making the most delicious ragged growls as he persisted.

Body shaking, face stained with Karlach’s juices, absolutely debauched, you arched in Dammon’s arms.

“That’s it, Tav, let him hammer out some of that tension,” she cooed, voice vibrant with excitement. “I want to watch you come again, I want to see two of my favorite people falling apart, I want to see Dammon’s cum leaking out of you-”

She kissed you then, tasting herself on your tongue, her chest burning against yours. Pinned between the fire and forgemaster, you succumbed. Light-headed, you released a broken moan into Karlach’s mouth, that thread of tension inside you stretched painfully thin, before it snapped, and with it, all the strings holding you upright. You collapsed between them, your thighs slick with your own cum, your body soaking up their power, quenching their heat.

Dammon followed after you, hot seed filling you as he hilted inside you. With a low moan, he bit down on your shoulder, the sharp pain dragging a whine from your raw throat.

Drained, you slumped against his chest, unable to feel your legs.

Breathing hard, Dammon rested his chin on your intact shoulder.

“Oh, we should bandage that,” Karlach laughed as you lifted your head.

You sighed as you looked at the wound, the skin broken. Dammon knew better than to mark you, but apparently when buried inside you, he lost any semblance of control.

“Oh hells, sorry-” Dammon muttered as you sat there in his lap.

“You’re gonna be,” you muttered as Karlach started cleaning the wound and wrapping it for you.

##

“Sorry,” Dammon murmured again as you sipped the wine and ate one of Bex’s biscuits.

“It’s fine,” you yawned, petting his hair as he sprawled between you and Karlach.

“You say that, but Astarion’s going to pitch a fit if he sees that,” Karlach giggled. “He nearly tore out my throat for inviting you. Are you sure the two of you aren’t-”

“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you sighed. “Anyway, Halsin can patch me up.”

“Oh hells, Master Halsin’s going to see.” Dammon hung his head, hiding his face in Karlach’s shoulder.

“Oh what are you complaining about?” Karlach laughed, kissing his cheek. “You wanted to invite Halsin too-”

Dammon bit his lip.

“So you do fancy Halsin?” Your brows went up. Sweet little Dammon certainly had an eye for quality.

“Who doesn’t?” Karlach laughed. “And he had huge crush on Zevlor.”

“Karlach-” Dammon hid his face.

You smiled wistfully. “Me too,” you said.

“I feel like a consolation prize,” Karlach laughed, her tone teasing.

“No! Not at all!” Dammon hurriedly grasped her hands, panic on his face. “Karlach, they’re attractive, but it’s just admiration. I don’t want to be with them. They’re not you!”

Karlach laughed, kissing his temple.

Dammon stared up at her earnestly. “Karlach-”

“I’m joking, Dammon. I see the appeal of both. And so does Tav, obviously.” She winked at him.

Dammon turned his head, like he forgot that you were there. Maybe he did. It was nice to see them together, to see someone finding happiness in these dark times. Karlach and Dammon certainly deserved it.

You thought of Halsin and your chest clenched. It was past time to address whatever was forming between you. You would talk to him after this.

“So, what did you like about Zevlor?” Karlach asked, nuzzling his cheek. “Tav is clearly dying to know.”

Dammon rubbed the back of his neck. “He was different when I met him. You didn’t see him back in Elturel, Tav. Yes, he was still...craggy and reserved, but he wasn’t so tired, there was more fire in him,” Dammon murmured. He sighed heavily.

You leaned against his shoulder. “Tell me about him.”

“Yeah, you can’t just tease us,” Karlach laughed, though you knew she wasn’t particularly interested in hearing about Zevlor. But she would, for Dammon and for you.

“Well,” Dammon cleared his throat, flashing a bright smile at you. “I was a tinsmith before the Descent. And the first time I met him, he needed a new canteen…”

##

“I should leave my own mark,” Halsin said, his voice gravelly, the cool energy of a healing touch flowing into your shoulder.

The two of you sat facing each other in his tent, your shoulder bared to him.

“Do you need to?” you asked.

He looked you over, his smile tight. “I can smell them both on you,” he said in a low voice. “And that makes me want to-” he gnawed on his lower lip.

“Go ahead.” You studied his face. “You know, you’re invited if it happens again.”

Halsin chuckled. “I would accept, eagerly. But first-” He leaned over, mouth hot against your neck, opposite Dammon’s bite.

You shivered as he laved at the spot, sucking gently for a moment, before he bit down hard, bruising you, but not breaking skin. You fisted his shirt, whimpering as he licked the spot, his teeth grazing your shoulder, his head dipping lower.

“Halsin-”

He growled, reluctantly pulling away, averting his eyes. He shook his head, hunching over for a moment. “I apologize,” he said with a grimace. “I didn’t mean-”

“Let’s have a night out later. If you like, I’ll tell you all about it, and then…I’ll help you with whatever feelings that arouses.”

Halsin shuddered, eyes closed, but he smiled wide at you. “Yes, I would like that. If you’re ready.” Halsin opened his eyes, his expression content.

You thought of Dammon and Karlach sitting side by side, wrapped in their blanket, tails intertwined. You thought you might like that too now. You thought that after all this, you might find comfort in finding something similar with Halsin.

“Yeah, I think I am.”

This was a little idea I played with, but ultimately did not end up using. I've been sitting on it for awhile and am still not entirely happy with it, but it'll do. I have such trouble writing explicitly gender neutral smut, but I tried lol.

[underdark-dreams]

I would like to request something soft and sweet. Years after saving the Gate and having moved in with Rolan, Cal, and Lia, Tav is enjoying the day reading/admiring Rolan as he works, and then either a) Tav asks Rolan to marry them or b) Rolan asks Tav to marry him.

Thank you 💕💕

Rolan x fem!Tav

More

Was it wrong to feel selfish about the person you loved? Rolan and Tav finally get a night alone at the Tower to talk about what each of them wants.

Tags: Romantic Fluff, Mild Angst, Marriage Proposals | SFW

Word Count: 4,316 [Read on AO3]

“All right, all right. Three harpies at once, no weapons. How do you win?”

“Do they have the high ground?”

From the settee by the fire, Lia pointed down at her little brother as though he’d brought up a key point. “You’re on even terrain.”

“Right, this one’s easy.” Cal settled back comfortably against the rug with hands clasped behind his head. “I start yelling loud enough that I can’t hear the harpy song. Then, I charge at whichever one’s singing loudest and knock the wind out of them with my horns, and then, you know." He waved a hand around vaguely. "Rough 'em up."

“So fucking stupid—” Lia fell sideways in her seat, clutching her side with laughter.

“I keep telling you, you’re always forgetting about the horns.” Cal jabbed a finger at his forehead. “Natural advantage, Lia, you should know this by now.”

The absurd conversation was impossible to block out, but Rolan made an attempt as he bent over his desk. Behind him, he felt Tav's chest reverberating with laughter at his siblings. 

She was in one of her affectionate moods tonight. She'd drawn up a chair behind his in order to rest her cheek against his back, one wrist draped loosely over his shoulder. 

Rolan didn't mind the closeness—he never did from her. But between her warmth and his siblings' ridiculous game of what-if, he'd barely written one paragraph in the past ten minutes. He finally gave up and set aside his quill.

Tav shifted slightly on his shoulder. "How's Gale?" She asked, perhaps feeling guilty about interrupting his concentration. 

“He’s well. His new class has a few with real promise, according to Tara.”

"I can't believe Tara likes you more than me," she mumbled suddenly against his back. "I met her first."

Her petulant tone made his mouth twitch into a smile. He would’ve turned to kiss her if they were alone. Instead, Rolan only pressed his lips to the hand draped over his shoulder. "Tressyms know a good wizard when they see one, dearest."

“Makes two of us,” she replied. The soft words ghosted across the skin on his neck, raising goosebumps under his collar.

It suddenly seemed like a very good idea to tell his siblings to get lost. Rolan was saved the necessity by a stroke of good timing. Near the fireplace, there was the soft clinking of plate armor as Lia got to her feet.

“Right, I’m off—” Lia buckled her scabbard around her waist as she rose, her shortsword tip clanking against the greaves over her shins. “Can’t be late to lead my first evening patrol.”

It had never occurred to Rolan before that Lia might end up in the Flaming Fist. He had to remind himself that the company’s reputation had improved considerably in the year since Florrick had succeeded Ulder Ravengard. Corruption and bad behavior had flourished under Gortash, but Florrick had done much to clean the Fists’ ranks of the worst—at least within the city walls. 

As he looked at her now, standing tall in her emblazoned surcoat, Rolan realized that his young sister was quite grown up. She’d earned a promotion to Gauntlet faster than any of them expected, a fact she loved to remind them of—especially Rolan. Lia took care of others the way she always had, and now she could take care of herself. The thought was somehow bittersweet in Rolan’s chest.

"Me as well," Cal chimed in from the floor. Though he only stretched arms and legs out long with a massive yawn.

“Don’t rush off,” Rolan drawled, but there was affection in it.

“Highberry’s are across the street, I got a few minutes.” Cal scrubbed his face with both hands as if to wake himself. “We got new ones at the orphanage last week, twin boys. They’re good kids, but gods, do they play hard…feel like my back’s aged about ten years…”

Lia stepped over to give him a hand up with a chuckle. “Read the room, Cal. The lovers need their alone time.”

Cal glanced around at the two in question. Tav still rested her cheek on Rolan’s shoulder with an expression of dreamy happiness, while Rolan was failing to hide a scowl. Lia knew how he hated when either of them used that word.

“Ah, right—” Cal slipped to his feet, sounding eager to be off all of a sudden. “I’ll be back after sunrise. Keep the place together while I’m gone?” He added, a fine joke considering Cal was always the one breaking things.

Rolan’s only response was to wave his quill behind him in a shooing motion. Tav called a friendly goodbye to brother and sister as they made their way down the main staircase, chatting as they went.

Once their footsteps had retreated completely, her restraint evaporated. “Thank the Gods, come here—”

Rolan barely managed to save his inkwell from overturning as she twisted to launch her torso across his lap, capturing his face in both hands for an enthusiastic kiss. His near arm gripped around her middle, no doubt leaving ink stains from his fingers against her linen shirt—he found himself unable to care about anything but the sweet taste of her lips.

They each pulled away for breath at the same moment. Tav’s grip lingered, her fingers combing back through his hair gently to clasp together at his nape.  

“Hello,” she grinned. Her eyes roamed over his face like he was everything.

Rolan’s palm brushed down her back, utterly content. “Hello.”

They took each other in like that for a long moment, just enjoying the quiet closeness. Her fingers smoothed and combed the hair back from beside Rolan’s horns needlessly—a fussy gesture that nevertheless brought a hum of contentment to his chest.

Apparently satisfied that she had him put back to sorts, Tav’s hands moved to rest on Rolan’s shoulders. “Got more work to do?”

Though she phrased it as a question, Rolan sensed she already knew the answer. He let out a reluctant sigh.

“Go on,” said Tav, not waiting for his reply. Rolan’s shoulders received a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll wait for you.”

With one last soft kiss, she slid off his lap and away. Rolan said nothing, but he instantly missed the warm weight of her against him. 

Tav retrieved her current reading from the shelves behind and curled up on the now-vacant settee near the fireplace. Though his spirit rebelled, Rolan picked up his quill again to continue writing his last few replies. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could join her. 

For a while the vaulted room settled into a quiet, echoing lull. There was the crackle of magical flame in the great stone hearth; the rhythmic scratch of ink against parchment; the faint whistle of an evening breeze out on the open balcony beyond. Periodically, he heard Tav turn another page of her book.

Before long he’d reached the final sealed envelope on the day’s pile. As Rolan stretched his hand for it, he caught sight of Tav watching him over the back of her seat.

“What?”

“Just admiring,” she sighed, eyes sparkling. “You look so handsome when you’re concentrating like that.”

Rolan’s brow wrinkled playfully at her. “Am I not usually handsome?”

“Always.”

“Hmm. You just think that because you’re in love with me,” Rolan replied curtly. He turned back to his work in an attempt to hide the way she made him smile and flush like an idiot.

“Both can be true,” she called back, not denying anything. But Rolan heard the shuffle of pages as she returned to her reading.

It took him a moment to regain concentration on his work. Rolan’s eyes reread several lines of the letter before him multiple times. But this one was truly quite important—a missive from the archwizards’ council at Blackstaff Tower. They were inquiring about his arcane research, apparently intrigued for the first time in years by his own Tower’s new ownership. He dove back in to focus on answering their questions in detail.

Half an hour and five sheets of parchment later, Rolan finally surfaced back to reality. He straightened up and promptly felt a pop in his neck from his stiff writing posture. The last light of sunset had slipped from the sky, leaving inky blackness behind each vaulted window of the cathedral-like interior.

As he rolled his aching shoulders, Rolan glanced toward Tav—only to find that the seat by the fire was empty. Rolan glanced back around the room, finding the rest of it empty as well. 

Had she given up waiting and gone up to bed? The thought disappointed him, though it opened up other possibilities. 

But Tav had told him she'd wait, and she wouldn't lie. As he rose from his desk to search for her, Rolan caught a faint metallic tap from the balcony.

Her silhouette was cast in relief against the dark sky. It was a moonless night; the pale orange glow of lamplight from the streets far below was the only light lining the edge of her figure, that and what little firelight streamed out through the highly vaulted doorway. Tav leaned on her elbows, the pewter wine glass under her fingers tapping an absent little rhythm against the stone railing. It was one of her habits when deep in thought.

Rolan allowed himself a moment to admire her. Seeing her in a quiet pose like this was one of his favorite things in all the Realms. Tav had become so many things to so many people in the short year he’d known her: hero, savior, diplomat, even rather a politician. 

But tonight, for now…she was just Tav. His Tav.

Rolan felt a pang of something like guilt in his stomach. It was by no means the first time he’d had such a feeling about her. His; possessive, controlling. It reminded him of the way he used to think before she came into his life.

For a long time, Rolan had felt a need to control the people he loved. If he didn’t, who would? Control just went hand in hand with protection. Caring for others was a luxury, and if the events of his life had taught him anything up to that point, it was that fate and misfortune were always looking for ways to separate you from what you cared about most.

And Tav had slipped so easily into the deepest depths of his heart. At first begrudgingly, resentfully…Rolan hadn’t exactly seen her as a welcome addition to their lives when they’d first met long ago on the road to Baldur’s Gate. 

Right now, it was impossible to imagine anything but love for her. 

As Rolan watched a soft breeze ruffle the ends of her hair, something uncertain bloomed inside of him. Was it wrong to feel selfish like this about the person you loved? The question hung unanswered in his chest. Rolan felt its weight there tonight, like a heavy stone dragging on his heart. 

His hand absently brushed against the small leather pouch he kept tied on his belt—there was a small clink of metal against metal from inside.

“Just going to stand there?”

Tav’s voice brought him back to reality in the most pleasant way. Rolan blinked to find that his legs had carried him forward to the arched doorway of their own volition. 

Tav stood a few strides away, watching him over her shoulder with a bemused smile. The firelight streaming out from behind him softly illuminated her features. 

In the next moment, Rolan had closed the distance to tilt her face into a kiss. Her empty cup clattered forgotten to the stone tiles at their feet. Would he ever tire of the way her arms circled around his shoulders like that? 

Rolan didn’t think it was likely—he nuzzled against her cheek as their lips parted, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent.

“What’s with you tonight?” Tav laughed, the sound breathy and soft against his collar.

“What?” Rolan protested, drawing her away slightly to examine her face. “Can’t I appreciate the woman I love?”

A happy flush rose to her cheeks, unnoticeable in the dim to someone without Rolan’s precise vision. But notice he did, just as she caught the way his golden eyes traveled over her expression. Tav pressed her face back into his shoulder as her arms squeezed tighter around him. 

“I wish we had more time,” she said against the crook of his neck.

Rolan tried to quell the instinctive panic that rose in his chest at her words. Instead, he stroked a hand over her hair. “What do you mean?”

The way she paused before answering allowed Rolan’s heart just enough time to wind up to a brisk rhythm against his ribcage. Eventually, Tav leaned back to look at him. Her expression had grown quite serious.

“I know that you—” She cut herself off, then wet her lips and began again. “Rolan, this place is your life. I’m not under any misconceptions that all this—” She tipped her head and looked sideways as if to indicate the Tower itself. “—That any of it’s going away any time soon. You know that, right?”

Her face tilted toward him with utter sincerity. Rolan found that his thoughts were forming with an odd slowness, as if swimming around his brain through something gelatinous.

“And you’ve been very understanding,” he managed to tell her. The guilt from earlier returned its grip over his chest. “More than I deserve.”

She sighed as her hand rose to his cheek. “Thank you for saying that…but you wouldn’t if you knew how often I daydream about kidnapping you away all for myself.”

Before Rolan could find a response to that, Tav had stepped back out of his grip with a soft curse.

“Damn—” She swore again, then wrung her hands with a shaky, anxious laugh. “This shouldn’t be this hard.”

Rolan still didn’t understand quite what she was saying, a sensation that he found deeply uncomfortable. It made him feel like a vessel adrift. He clasped hands behind his back to anchor himself, collecting his features into a guarded expression.

“Please,” Rolan invited her, tipping his horns to her in a way that felt awkwardly formal. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” She chewed the inside of her lip as she watched him. There was a tense pause, and then she launched in abruptly. 

“I’ve been thinking our life here in your Tower. You and me—us. And,” she added, “I’ve been thinking about your work. How much it means to you…how far you’ve come in just a year.”

Tav gave him a small smile, as if casting back to those tense and awkward times when they’d first known each other. Then her face fell again. “Sometimes it just feels like there’s something missing.”

Rolan found he had to glance away from her for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Are you unhappy?” He asked her slowly.

“What? Not at all—” Tav shook her head with vehemence. “You make me so happy, Rolan, you have no idea. It’s just that I—I’m not always satisfied,” she finished weakly. 

“I see.” Rolan kept his face very still, but his pulse beat painfully in his throat. 

She was unsatisfied with the life of an archmage’s partner. It was perfectly understandable—before she’d come to live with him, Tav traveled far and wide, sometimes leaving the city for a week to visit her far-flung companions across Faerûn and the very hells themselves. 

A life spent cooped up in a tower, no matter how grand—how could he have ever thought it would be enough for her?

Rolan’s guilty conscience was deserved. He had been too selfish with her. He wanted her safe; he wanted her here. Most of all, he wanted Tav to want to be with him.

And Rolan had been so sure that she did. Perhaps he’d let the strength of his own feelings mislead him.

Rolan was painfully aware of the silence stretching on between them. Another evening breeze stirred the air, and as it rustled through their clothing, Tav’s eyes searched his face.

“What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

Behind his back, Rolan’s hands clenched where she couldn’t see them. Right now he was thinking of the small leather pouch that had hung from his belt for months, and the two small metal objects it contained, and the many ways he had imagined offering one of them to her. But none of those were things he should tell her now.

“Nothing,” Rolan answered aloud. “Only that I’ve been rather foolish.”

In response to that, a strange, puzzled expression passed over her face. Then her lips parted. 

“Ohhhh—” The sound rose from deep in her chest, a pained exhale. “No, Rolan, no no—”

Tav stepped to grasp his face between her hands with such speed that Rolan nearly flinched in surprise at the contact.

“I’m such an idiot,” she confessed to him. Her voice was very small all of a sudden. “I know I might not have the right to ask you, Rolan—but I don’t want less. I want more.”

Rolan’s eyes traveled back and forth between hers as if there was some hidden message he was missing there. “More?” He repeated, questioning. 

Tav nodded her head very slowly at him. “More of you. More of us.”

In the next instant it felt like the weight tangled around Rolan’s heart had snapped its line and plummeted straight down into his stomach. As he watched the firelight reflected earnestly in Tav’s eyes, realization shot up his spine like a shockwave. 

The force of his relief made his head spin. Rolan wanted to say a dozen different things to her all at once. Unfortunately, he found that his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth at the moment.

Instead—in a rare moment of clarity that was all reflex and no logic—Rolan felt himself sinking to one knee in front of her.

“Why are you—” 

Tav’s eyes went wide as she followed his face down to where he landed. Her hands fell from where they’d held him to hang down limp at her sides; her chest rose and fell as if she’d run a flight of stairs.

“How can you not know by now?” 

What a terrible way to begin, he thought—yet those were the words Rolan found leaving his mouth. Trying to right his thoughts, he reached for one of her hands and took it between both his own.

“Forgive me,” Rolan blurted out. “I swear I’ve practiced this before, but—I can’t remember all the best bits just now.”

Tav shook her head at him as if punch-drunk. “Don’t sell yourself short,” she whispered hoarsely.

A nervous bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you ever known me to be burdened with an excess of humility?”

Despite the electricity now swirling between them, the corners of Tav’s mouth twitched upward. “Point taken.”

Rolan used the moment to gather himself. His tongue suddenly felt two sizes too large, and he swallowed with effort against his dry mouth.

“You’ve always done so much for me. From the first moment…every moment. You’re the reason why I have Cal and Lia, why I have everything—” Rolan’s eyes left her only for a moment to pass up over the great spire of the Tower above them. 

From his periphery, Tav opened her mouth to protest.

“Please listen,” Rolan begged her before she could speak. He wished he’d thought this through even a little; his knee was already starting to ache against the stone, but he pushed through the discomfort.

Tav’s figure froze still in response as she watched him. Only her hand shook slightly between his palms.

“You must know what you mean to me,” Rolan murmured. “You’ve given me so much more than I deserve. You’ve loved me more than anyone…better than anyone. But—” He drew her hand a bit closer to his chest. “But I’m afraid there’s one more thing I have to ask you for.”

Tav’s lips were parted in anticipation as she hung on his words. She stood so motionless it was like kneeling at the foot of a beautiful statue. Only her wide eyes moved continuously over his face, and Rolan felt he could lose himself in them completely if he gazed too long.

“Let me give you more,” he asked simply. “Let me give you everything.”

“You—you damn wizard—” 

As she broke her silence, Tav’s expression was flickering somewhere between amusement and tears. She was shaking her head at him, moisture pricking at the corners of her eyes. “If you don’t say it plain in the next—”

“Marry me.”

Though they stood under open sky, the two words seemed to echo with deafening force against his own ears. The question hung like a tangible physical thing, reverberating painfully in the narrow space between their bodies. Rolan could only grip her hand like a lifeline and wait for her to say something—anything.

Finally, Tav burst out into a laugh. 

Or was it was a sob? 

It was some strange combination of both, a choked sound of relief rising in her throat even as Rolan watched liquid suddenly spill and roll down each of her cheeks. Before he knew what was happening, Tav had also dropped to her knees in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Whatever responses Rolan had anticipated, this was one he didn’t plan for. He could only freeze and watch her cry and wait for things to make sense again.

“I don’t know,” Tav hiccoughed through the rapid tears that were streaming down her face now. Her lips trembled as her hands found his shoulders, clutching two handfuls of his robes. “I d-don’t know,” she repeated. “But I want you, Rolan.”

He had just enough hope to take that as a yes. 

Rolan folded Tav’s body into his own with near crushing force. He was now overwhelmingly grateful for their absurd position kneeling together on the cold stone of the balcony. It was unthinkable to have her anywhere but in his arms right now.

“Yes, by the way—” Tav’s voice was muffled against his shoulder, but her chest shook against him with unmistakable laughter now.

“I had plans,” Rolan answered against her hair, half to himself. “None of this is right, hells, I swear I had so many plans—”

“Hold on,” Tav replied in a trembling laugh. She pulled away gently, just enough to notch one hand under Rolan’s ear. Her face radiated joy despite the damp skin on her cheeks. “Rolan, what on earth could be wrong right now?”

Everything, he wanted to groan out. But he bit the word back. 

Instead, Rolan ducked his head to fumble with the drawstrings of the leather bag fastened to his belt. Tav’s fingers dropped from his jaw as she watched on in silent curiosity. 

He shook the open bag over his hand. With a tiny clink, two rings poured from it and out onto Rolan’s outstretched palm. Even on a moonless night, the metal seemed to glow from within with a silver-blue fire.

“Mithril,” Tav breathed in pure delight.

The observation was so unexpected, yet so thoroughly Tav, that Rolan let out a choked laugh.

She touched fingers to her lips. “How long have—when did you—?”

“The week you moved in,” Rolan answered. The way her eyes flicked up to his in pure adoration made Rolan’s heart swell in his chest, but he continued. “That’s when I gave Dammon the commission. Of course it took months to find a vein of it down in the Underdark, I nearly went mad, you have no i—”

The words were stopped up as Tav’s lips collided against his. Rolan’s fist closed over the twin metal bands just as his hand was trapped between their chests.

She kissed him so long and so hard that Rolan gasped for air a bit when she broke away.

“Do you like it?” Rolan asked, needing her answer more than his lungs needed air.

“You’re kidding me.” Tav blinked at him. “Rolan, if you don’t put that thing on my finger this fucking minute, I swear I might have to reconsider.”

He wasn’t about to chance it. Rolan slipped the band onto the finger of her outstretched hand without hesitation; it fit her perfectly. She followed suit, her hand shaking slightly with excitement as the ring slid down to his knuckle.

For a moment they just held opposite hands out beside each other in quiet admiration. Then Rolan linked his fingers with hers, pulling their palms together. 

He supposed the rings were supposed to come after the vows, not before—but the sight of them on their interlocked fingers was too perfect to be wrong.

A moment later they helped each other back to their feet, both laughing at their stiff knees and the pins-and-needles in their legs. 

Rolan felt giddy as a youth. He couldn't stop kissing her; his arms circled her firmly into him, his tail looping around and over her hips in a caress. As Rolan watched the pure happiness radiating from Tav’s face, his heart was the lightest it had ever been.

“Now what?” He asked eventually.

Tav sighed with contentment in his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to take you to bed,” Rolan answered without hesitation. Words had grown tiresome; he could think of no better way to demonstrate exactly the strength of his feelings for her right now.

In response, she separated to tug his hand with both of hers back under the doorway. 

“Then we’d better go,” she said, walking backwards so she could flash him a coy smile. “Because I want my fiancé to tell me about all those ways he didn't just propose.”

[writer-in-theory]

Meet Me At Skull Rock — steddie.

For: @skjachukson as a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: N/A

Tags: childhood best friends, love confessions, first love, friends to enemies to lovers, season 4, canon divergence

Summary:

One petal he loves me, one petal he does not.

When Steve finds out that his childhood best friend is accused of murder, old feelings resurface.

Read on Ao3

One petal he loves me, one petal he loves me not. 

Steve’s little fingers shook as they plucked away at the wildflower in his hand, willing it to leave behind one solitary petal just as it had for the girl in the movie he’d watched last weekend. The loose petals gathered on his lap and in the grass around him, one errant petal clinging to his left sock. 

“Whatcha doin’?” a familiar voice called loudly directly into his ear as the person practically leaped onto Steve’s back, sending him reeling forward in his attempt to remain upright where he sat. Eddie’s hands pulled at Steve’s shoulder so he could get a better look at what had taken his best friend’s attention, face scrunching up at the sight of the blue flower in his hands. “Why’s the flower look so sad?”

His eyes drifted to the small stack of petals sitting on Steve’s knee, torn at one edge from where Steve had plucked it from the center of the flower. “Why’re you hurtin’ the flower, Stevie?”

“I’m not hurting it,” Steve huffed, setting the flower down on the ground in front of him for safekeeping. He turned around in his spot in the dirt so he could face Eddie. “I’m doing magic on it.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, eyes lighting up bright at the mention of the word. “Carol said flowers tell if the person you like like feels the same way.”

“What’s the flower saying now?” Eddie asked, leaning his head forward over Steve’s shoulder to get a closer look. 

“I dunno,” Steve said with a tiny shrug. Normally he wanted to share everything with his best friend, but even now he could feel himself wanting to tuck the flower closer to his chest as if to protect it from view. “Didn’t finish the magic. Do you think it really works?”

“You can’t lie about magic, Stevie,” Eddie said back, relaxing into a spot on the ground beside him. “That’s the rules, so it’s gotta really work. Same as how Skull Rock has to stay a secret hideout.”

“I guess.” Steve sat the flower down on the first rock to make up Skull Rock, ready to put it out of his mind until he could ask Carol more about the magic behind it all. “We should get back to your Uncle Wayne’s, it’s almost sundown.”

“Aww, c’mon, we can stay five more minutes,” Eddie protested, though was already standing up and brushing the dirt off of his jeans. “Maybe we can get Uncle Wayne to order us pizza.”

“Race you back!”

“Hey, wait up, no fair!”

As they ran off toward the treeline of the woods, a flower lay left behind among the rocks, three lone petals hanging onto the center.

“He just disapp—Are you even listening, Steve? This is important!”

It had been years since Steve let himself feel anything for Eddie Munson. It was easier to pretend that the other man didn’t exist than to remember all of the fun they’d had as kids, or the night that his father had firmly and resolutely demanded an end to their friendship. For years Eddie Munson was nothing more than the outcast of Hawkins High who had at one time been Steve’s very best friend, back when his shoulders weren’t yet weighed down by the family name and the expectation of popularity. Even when the nerd pack had started to talk about him, it was easier for Steve to pretend that he didn’t know Eddie at all. 

In truth, maybe he really didn’t know Eddie, at least not now. Because Dustin and Max were there to find him and Steve didn’t have a single clue where to start looking. At one time in their lives, Steve would have been the person Eddie came to if the entire town was looking for him, but now Steve couldn’t name a single place Eddie considered safe. They had no leads except the vague mention of a dealer Eddie had once worked with.

When had they drifted so far apart that even the local dealer knew Eddie better than Steve did?

“Are you really sure Munson would go there? I mean, any guy named Reefer Rick can’t be that trustworthy,” Steve spoke up once Dustin called him out. 

“No one would check there,” Robin pointed out, already grabbing the keys to the Family Video doors. “It’s the perfect place for an accused murderer to hide.”

“He didn’t murder anyone!”

“I didn’t say he did, mini-dingus, I said he was accused of doing it. I can’t see Eddie Munson actually killing anyone.”

“No, I can’t either,” Steve sighed, following the kids as they rushed out to his car. At one time, he would have yelled at them for even daring to get near the thing, but one bad breakup and a half dozen demodogs later and it was weirder to see the car without them arguing in the backseat. “Calm down, Henderson, we’ll find him.”

Steve’s hands were tight on the steering wheel the entire ride to the lakehouse, mind racing as fast as his heartbeat despite all of his attempts to calm himself down. This was it, the inevitable meeting that he’d done his best to avoid for years. Eddie Munson needed him now and there was no hiding from it, not when the kid in the backseat of his car would be devastated by Steve doing anything but help.

Steve couldn’t say the broken bottle to his neck wasn’t deserved, given everything that had happened between him and the man holding it. He could see the fear in Eddie’s eyes that said everything—he was expecting Steve to turn him in or join the manhunt. Only a few years ago and he might’ve (though even the thought alone sent a shiver down the back of Steve’s neck), but somehow Eddie’s biggest fan had worked his way into Steve’s life and that meant that he had no choice but to stand there now ready to hear the real story about what had happened to Chrissy Cunningham in the Munson trailer.

It hurt to see Eddie so afraid, as if the man knew that the rest of the town wouldn’t accept him staying alive after the loss of their star cheerleader. Even after Robin, Dustin, and Max were able to talk him off of the ledge there was an edge of the same feral terror. It was the kind of fear that Steve knew would never completely fade even if they were able to solve this situation—the same that Steve had felt when facing down the demodogs with nothing but a baseball bat a few years earlier. Sometimes, in the middle of the night when the loneliness hit Steve full force, he’d wish that he and Eddie had more in common. He never would have wished it if the universe meant this.

“Steve should stay behind while we check out the trailer,” Robin suggested. “You know, in case anyone else finds this place before we can get back.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, finally tearing his eyes away from Eddie to face the group. “No way, Eddie can handle himself.”

“I hate to say I agree with Harrington, but Eddie can protect himself,” Eddie said. 

“The whole basketball team is out there looking for you, Eddie!” Dustin practically shouted, “you can’t fight off all of them. Steve’s good at this, trust us.”

Already Steve could feel the finality in this decision, but still he had to try to dissuade them from leaving him alone with Eddie. “I’m the only one here with a car. How do you think you’re getting over there?”

“We’re resourceful. The mini-dingus will figure it out for us,” Robin said.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve was left in the boat shed of the lake house with nothing but a baseball bat of nails and the one person he dreaded being alone with. They both sat on the ground against opposite walls of the shed, each clearly trying to avoid the inevitable conversation. Maybe Steve could last this entire time without having to face Eddie, even if it meant this uncomfortably stifling silence continued. 

“So the great Steve Harrington really is a hero,” Eddie spoke to break the silence first. “I didn’t believe Henderson when he told me.”

“I wouldn’t say hero.”

“I don’t know, the way the kids tell it you saved their lives with all your supreme righteousness.”

A sigh slipped from Steve at the bitterness that ran through Eddie’s words. He couldn’t even blame him after what had happened between them, after everything Steve had done.

“Look, man, it’s gonna be a long day if we can’t work together. We can just…pretend we didn’t know each other until today, or something.”

“You’re really great at pretending, aren’t you, Harrington?”

Steve winced, knowing deep down that he deserved the venom in Eddie’s words. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Eddie must have seen something in Steve’s face though, because he suddenly seemed to deflate. His features softened as he finally made eye contact with Steve for the first time since holding a broken bottle to his neck. “We covered interdimensional creatures and weird girls with magic powers…anything else I should know about?”

“The little nerds are great at getting themselves into trouble. Especially Henderson, you really have to watch out for him.”

“Yeah, I’m noticing that,” Eddie laughed. “What kid comes running after a guy accused of murder?”

“A kid who basically worships you. All year it’s been nothing but ‘Eddie this’ and ‘Eddie that’. It gets annoying hearing how great you are all the time,” Steve said with a laugh, hoping Eddie understood his lighthearted intentions.

“Tell me about it. I had to hear about how amazing you are every day. He said it so much he almost had me believing it.”

“Wow, that’s wild coming from you.”

“Is it?” Eddie asked. “I used to be that guy too, telling anyone who’d listen all about you.”

“Feels like forever ago,” Steve admitted. “Anything that happened before I knew about the Upside Down feels like a dream.”

“Damn. That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea. I keep thinking I’ve seen everything and somehow it keeps surprising me.”

“Even more of a reason to get out of Hawkins as soon as I can,” Eddie returned.

The silence that fell over them was less tense then, something a little closer to comfortable. 

Steve had missed talking to Eddie, even though he’d never admit it aloud to anyone. Even Robin didn’t know that they used to be friends, that he used to-

Well, that was all history anyway.

It was just when Steve started to get comfortable that voices began to sound from outside the shed. A few of them, all sounding angry and one of them that he was sure belonged to Jason Carver. Carver had been an asshole even when Steve had still been on the team, but he never once thought the guy would start an actual manhunt for someone in town. It was all too much, everything a terrible byproduct of the Upside Down refusing to leave the town of Hawkins alone.

“We have to get out of here,” Steve whispered, climbing to his feet and looking for a quick exit.

“What happened to protecting me with that?” Eddie asked in the same hushed tone, gesturing to the bat held tightly in Steve’s hands.

“I don’t want to use it if I don’t have too,” Steve answered. “Have any ideas how to get out of here?”

“The boat,” Eddie said, pulling the sheet off of it. “They can’t follow us across the lake.”

It was a decent enough idea, so Steve followed Eddie’s lead into the boat. They tried to row out of the shed as quietly as possible, if only to solidify their lead ahead of Carver and his friends before they noticed where Steve and Eddie had gone. 

Steve really thought it would work, too, until one of Carver’s friends pointed to where they were in the middle of Lover’s Lake. 

“Row faster!” Eddie screamed as the guys took off after them, having no qualms about swimming in the freezing lake in the middle of March. 

“I’m doing the best I can!” Steve shouted back, though sped up his movements until his upper arms burned. “Grab the bat!”

“What? I’m not gonna actually murder someone, Steven!”

“You will if it means not letting them murder us first!” Steve said, too stressed to feel triumphant when Eddie actually picked up the bat.

It all happened too fast for Steve to really process what happened. They got lucky most times they dealt with the Upside Down; no kids had actually gotten seriously hurt until the night Billy Hargrove was killed by the Mind Flayer. Steve had hoped that he’d never have to watch someone get killed in such a brutal way ever again, but then again the universe seemed to love proving Steve wrong time and time again. 

Patrick McKinney had been a good guy, his only fault really being that he subscribed to whatever Jason Carver said was true. He didn’t deserve to go out in such a horrific way. Every crack of his bones made Steve’s chest tighten even more as a wave of nausea built at the thought of Patrick and Chrissy suffering so much at the hands of the Upside Down. They didn’t deserve this, no one did.

He and Eddie were silent the rest of the way to shore, the only sound being that of the oars pulling through the water. 

How many more people have to get hurt before they can put an end to the Upside Down? More than once Steve had wondered if the government was wrong in choosing to keep this a secret from people. Shouldn’t the people of Hawkins deserve to know about the threat to their lives? Maybe it could have prevented this, or at least kept people from assuming Eddie was behind it all. 

One thing was certain: no one would believe that Eddie didn’t do this, after seeing Patrick’s death. 

“Hey, are you coming?” Eddie asked, the words sounding more distant than they should. “Steve, are you okay?”

That shook Steve out of it enough to notice that Eddie was already out of the boat and a few steps toward the tree-line. He looked…worried for Steve.

“I’m fine,” Steve said quickly, getting out of the boat and taking off after Eddie. “Just don’t get used to seeing that.”

“It’s what happened to Chrissy,” Eddie spoke, falling back to walk beside Steve. The moon was only a sliver, leaving them to fumble through the woods. Steve didn’t know where Eddie was leading them, but he was fine to allow someone else to take the lead for once. “One second she was fine, then she was…on the ceiling. I tried to help her but she wouldn’t wake up.”

“There was no way you could’ve stopped it,” Steve told him, though knew if Eddie was anything like him that he’d feel guilty about it for years after. “I don’t know why this is happening, but I do know we have a pretty good track record at stopping the Upside Down. We’ll figure this out and clear your name while we’re at it.”

“Since when is Steve Harrington such an optimist?”

“Since you told me to be,” Steve said before he could think about it. 

The memory was one that still sat in the front of his mind, easily reachable whenever he felt particularly down on his situation in life. They’d been kids then, still in elementary school. Eddie had just moved to Hawkins, though, to move in with his uncle after what happened to his parents. 

‘My momma said when I’m sad to always remember the sun will rise again.’

“Where are we going anyway?” Steve asked, mostly to distract himself from the fond memory. Even now, so far away from it, the thought of having lost that friendship caused an ache in his chest. 

“Skull Rock,” Eddie said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “You remember it, right?”

That bitterness threatened to come back like a sharp knife in Steve’s throat. 

‘Skull Rock can be our secret hideout! We gotta swear to never tell anyone about it, Stevie. Pinkie swear!’

“Eddie, I didn’t mean t-“

“You didn’t mean to start taking all of your conquests to my favorite place to get away? Or you didn’t mean to completely ditch your friend and pretend I didn’t exist?”

Now wasn’t the time, and yet with Skull Rock in view Steve knew there was never going to be another time like this. They were alone for the first time in years and vulnerable enough after what had happened on the lake to let everything out.

“You don’t get it,” Steve tried, though that seemed to only make the situation worse.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. I don’t get how you became such a royal dick so goddamn fast. King fucking Steve suddenly remembered to be embarrassed that he was friends with the devil worshipper, huh?” Eddie was yelling now, no care for the fact that the entire town would be looking for him now, after the loss of a second teenager in his presence.

And Steve, well Steve was going to let him do it. Eddie had a nightmarish day and if yelling at him made it better, then dammit Steve could take whatever Eddie had to say to him.

“I was never embarrassed of you,” Steve said, feeling the urgency building in him to correct the mistake. “I didn’t want to stop talking to you.”

“Then what, Steve? What fucking happened? Why are you even here now?” Eddie continued to yell, his movements becoming more frantic as he began pacing in front of Skull Rock. “Don’t tell me you’re here because of Henderson. You don’t risk your entire fucking life for a friend, and you definitely don’t do it for someone you left behind. Just go, alright? I’ll tell Henderson you did a great job as my knight in shining armor, ‘kay?”

”Eddie-“

”You disappeared, Steve. You left and found people who were better for your precious reputation.”

It was like something snapped in Steve. He could feel the band around his chest release, letting everything that he’d shoved down years ago come back up to the surface.

“It wasn’t my choice, Eddie! And I don’t want to see you die for this!” Steve shouted back, stunning Eddie in place. “Is that what you wanna hear? Or that maybe I brought all those girls to Skull Rock hoping I’d have an excuse to talk to you? You don’t get it, Eddie. I’m a Harrington. My dad had expectations for me, and it wasn’t until I almost failed out of high school that he realized I’d never meet them! What else was I supposed to do when he found out th-“

Silence. Steve could feel the pressure of it all around him, making it harder to breathe. It felt like he’d just gone on a run, his chest heaving with the effort to take in one breath after the other. 

“When he found out what, Steve?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“What did your asshole dad find out about?” Eddie wasn’t going to drop this, not after Steve let the entire secret loose.

There was no escaping from this.

Steve sighed, finding a small crack in the rocks to focus on instead of Eddie.

“I thought everyone felt that way. I was just a kid, I said it so simply because I didn’t understand that not everyone would be nice about it. My dad…even then I knew he was an asshole, but I didn’t know he could be so mad.”

“What happened, Steve?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it.”

“I have to know.” Eddie’s voice was softer now, like he could already tell what was coming.

Steve’s hands shook where they rested at his sides. He felt like his heart might beat right out of his chest at any moment, which might be a more preferable end than whatever Eddie would do when he found out.

“D’you remember that day when I started pulling off all those flower petals?”

“Yeah, you started doing it all the time. I assumed it was for Carol.”

“Carol Perkins? God no, we’re just friends,” Steve laughed, trying to ignore the hurt as his brain corrected himself to were friends. “No I…I was wishing you felt the same way, okay?”

Eddie didn’t answer. Steve stood still, staring at the rock as he braced himself for what was going to happen. But even more time passed and Eddie still wasn’t answering him.

“You gotta say something, Eddie. Anything.” Steve hated pleading with the man, but all of his nerves felt frayed and raw as he stood there in front of his old best friend, the guy he had a crush on for too long.

“What the fuck, Harrington,” Eddie said with a heavy exhale. He didn’t sound angry though, more so in shock.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t choose t-“

“No, no, my turn to talk,” Eddie cut him off quickly. “This whole time, this whole time, King Steve Harrington has not only been gay but liked me?”

“Please don’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t g-“

“Is that why you’re suddenly friends with Buckley?”

The talk in the Starcourt bathroom was life-changing for both of them, when Robin admitted that she loved a girl in their class. It was the first time that Steve had felt like someone really understood him, that it would be okay someday, when he finally got out of Hawkins.

“How did you know?”

“We can spot each other from a mile away. I never saw you comin’, though, Steve Harrington.”

“Why do you keep saying my name like that?” Steve had imagined telling someone a thousand times over. He’d imagined telling Eddie even more than that. Each time, though, he’d never imagined a reaction like this. He had no idea what to make of it, had no clear insight into what Eddie was thinking.

“Because I’ve spent the last decade trying to tell myself I was batshit for falling for Steve Harrington, but here you are telling me this whole time you’ve felt the same somehow.” Eddie was smiling now, his voice shaking a little from the shock still lingering in him.

And that-

“You what?”

“You’re really that surprised, Harrington? Everyone at Hawkins High had some kind of feelings for you,” Eddie returned simply.

The next breath Steve took wavered as much as his hands still did, unsure of what to do next. Steve had taken many people here, and yet standing there with Eddie he suddenly forgot everything he’d once learned about being with someone romantically.

How was this possible?

“You know, this is really the worst time to find out you like me,” Steve said with a laugh. “What with the murder accusations and the supernatural…whatever the hell it is.”

“Hey, you’re the one who picked now to confess your undying love for me,” Eddie laughed back, lighter than Steve had seen him since all of this began.

“I don’t think I said it like that.”

“How about this, Harrington. You figure out a way to get me out of all this, and we’ll ride off into the sunset together.”

Steve had tried to picture his future dozens of times, each time coming up more unsure than the last. Now, though, with everything off his chest and the knowledge that Eddie feel the same way for him, he knew there was something to look forward to. 

So he stepped forward, daring himself to be braver than he’d ever been before. The kiss was quick and feather-light, but there all the same. Steve grinned at the look of pure shock and wonder on Eddie’s face when he stepped back. “You have yourself a deal, Munson.”

“Okay, we clearly missed something here.” When Steve turned, he saw Max, Dustin, and Robin standing there in front of them. Robin was grinning mischievously, like she already knew how she would pry the details out of Steve. “We said protect him, Steve, not woo him.”

[hrefna-the-raven]

Web of faith

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Chapters: 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Chapter 1

Words: 1062

Summary: Prior being trapped under the spell of the Absolute, Kar'niss was just a normal drow, trying to survive the daily threats that the city of Menzoberranzan held. He thought himself lost until you found him, showing him that there is a beauty to life he thought impossible.

"Come on, Niss!", you exclaimed as you squeezed through a narrow crevice in the rock, "you're getting old and slow!"

Kar'niss rolled his eyes, visibly annoyed, as he handed you a bag and attempted to maneuver through the tight space.

"I'm only four years older than you, besides you're a tiny excuse of a drow", he playfully teased, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips as he tousled your long, flowing white hair.

In response, you stuck out your tongue and let out a joyful giggle. Placing a blanket on the ground after lighting up the small lantern, it's glowing white light illuminating the small space like it was dunked in a pale moonlight, you sat down and patted the spot next to you, inviting Kar'niss to join you.

He settled into the blanket beside you, taking a deep breath. These moments spent with you were a source of tranquility, a stark contrast to the daily, often dangerous, chaos of Menzoberranzan that he endured. Trustworthy individuals, those who didn't seek to betray for personal gain, were a rarity in his district of the city. That's why, after meeting you for the first time five years ago, he made it his mission to cherish you like the rare gem you were to him— a shining diamond amidst the toxic darkness that surrounded him.

You had shown him this very spot on the day you first met, noticing the sorrow in his eyes as he wandered the streets of your district, his lip bloodied from a deep cut, his body littered with bruises. Without asking any questions, you simply took his hand and guided him here. He willingly followed, regardless of whether it led to his demise or not. He never mentioned what occurred on that particular day and you refrained from asking. Instead, both of you embraced the fact that you had entered each other's lives and remained together, relishing the tranquil privacy of that small, unknown cave as often as possible. Kar'niss vividly recalled the day it all changed again, two years after your initial meeting, as if it were yesterday. You were both sitting in the same spot on the same blanket when he timidly confessed his deepening feelings for you. His love for you had blossomed long before, but the fear of jeopardising your special friendship had held him back for far too long. To his surprise, you simply smiled at him, your eyes, a radiant shade of light purple, filled with joy as you leaned in and gently pressed your soft lips against his in a tender kiss. No words were necessary to express your answer; instead, you conveyed your affection through this simple act. From that moment on, the two of you became even more inseparable and it felt like nothing could ever tear you apart again.

The pain he had experienced in his past had led him to find solace in your presence - of that, he was certain. He believed that Lolth had somehow tested him before and he must have proven himself worthy, hence why she had bestowed upon him the gift of having you in his life now. And today, one day before officially proving himself worthy in the eyes of his goddess, was the day Kar'niss had chosen to declare his commitment to you. His hands fumbled nervously with the small ring tucked away in his pocket as he gazed at you. You softly hummed a tune, resting your head on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of what he intended to ask you. His fingers traced the intricate patterns of the diamond-adorned ring, seven delicate star-shaped stones set amidst a web of slender silver strings. It had once belonged to his mother, the last memento he possessed from his family before she fell victim to an assassin sent by another matron, right after he had been sent away to the Tower. However, all of that was insignificant now as he prepared to give you the ring and ask you to be his.

Your humming ceased as you rose slowly and positioned yourself between Kar'niss' thighs. Your gentle fingers caressed his cheeks while you showered his face with tender kisses.

"What troubles your mind, my beloved?", you asked, your nose gently nudging his as a smile graced your lips, although your eyes revealed the concerns that consumed your thoughts.

Kar'niss immediately ceased fidgeting with the ring and reached up to hold your hand, gently squeezing them as his sorrowful gaze met yours.

"Don't worry love", you whispered, pecking his lips, "I know no one more devoted to our great goddess than you. If anyone is capable of passing her test, it is undoubtedly you. I have unwavering faith in your abilities."

He felt his heart crack, anguish coursing through his thoughts as he dwelled on the impending test of faith. It was undeniable that his devotion to the goddess was unwavering, yet he couldn't shake the fear that accompanied the test. The fear of what might be demanded of him, the fear that he might not possess the strength to vanquish his opponent, inevitably leading to the devastating loss of his one true love. Little did he know, you also harboured the same fear, dreading a life without him, terrified that the agony of his absence would shatter your very essence into countless fragments, impossible to piece back together. Your hearts were entwined, your destinies entangled like a delicate spiderweb, but despite the depth of your faith and love, everything felt so fragile in the face of potential failure as Lolth was many things but not forgiving.

Kar'niss tenderly pressed his lips against yours, initially with a hint of hesitation. However, as he heard your gentle moan, his kiss intensified, filled with a growing passion. He leaned back, enticing you to join him, pulling your body closer to his own. The upcoming test and its outcome seemed insignificant compared to the present moment. Even if he were to fail tomorrow, he was determined to fully surrender himself to you, exposing his soul and body in this final act of intimacy as he cherished every touch exchanged between your bodies and he eagerly accepted each moan of praise that you would grant him. And if fate allowed it, tomorrow he, a devoted champion of Lolth, would finally summon the courage to ask you to be his.

Notes: I already apologise for the tragedy and the heartbreak 😅