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dhampling · 3 months

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one fem!reader, 2k

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?”

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

astarion is a newly-minted girldad. that's it. that's the plot.

word count: 2,028

an: fluff, fluff n more fluff. no smut this time. soon. promise. parts ONE and TWO linked respectively but can be read alone.

“She’s asleep, Astarion!”

You are wide eyed, furious; speaking in a whispered shout at your husband.

His pale hands flit across the ties of your shirt, frisking every which way they turn. You slap them off like flies on fruit.

“Even more reason to take advantage of the situation, if you ask me.” He murmurs hungrily in your ear, hands now circling down to your waist to tug on your waistband.

“It’s a fine job I didn’t ask you then!” Gritted teeth. Eyes aflame. Cornered against the dresser.

The crib beside your bed holds your infant daughter - skittish and fresh to a world wholly unknown in every sense of the word. She rests rarely and wails often for company in these early months of being alive with you both. Pallid and red-eyed yet beautiful beyond comparison and entirely yours.

Seeing you together brings him joy unparalleled.

He has, genuinely; never been prouder of anything of his doing - saving the Sword Coast is a drop in the ocean that is completely and utterly awash with love for your youngling. The mistaken mess of his own bastard elven vampiric genetics now born unto another. This time it would be right. The hunger, the rot; the abuse and neglect, they were hundreds of miles away.

He would make it right.

But it was already so. She was here, and you all cried together in that dark, sweaty birth chamber. His great guttural sob at her birth, wracked with emotion he never knew he could possibly be permitted to feel on this immortal coil. Your genuinely feral howls of pain turned weeping with pure joy.

Two full days of agony unlike any you’ve ever endured and she had arrived, breathing; wailing; skin of a changeling in birthing viscera and lungs keen to rival any bellow of the Gods.

Astarion weakly clinging to you both; tears salting your lips and wetting her tiny head for hours on end.

The great weight of another being on your shoulders. His sincere - yet cliche - fervently whispered oath to her just moments after being placed in his arms.

She is home. She is loved beyond any unit of measure. She will want for nothing, and she will never know anguish like that of her parents and their complex lives. No matter who she is or what she becomes, she has two people who are in her corner. She will be fierce if she so desires. Cunning. Witty. Roguish. Barbaric. Horrid.

It didn’t matter. It never would.

She was yours, and his; and she would always have a choice.

He had spoken with her for hours, the nurse whispered to inform you once you had awoken from the deepest slumber of your life. Even then when you looked he was hanging over her small form in her cot, running his lithe fingers over her tiny hands and feet in a repetitive soothing pattern.

When you queried the topic of conversation he simply looked at you with a grin so lovesick it would flip your stomach completely. Butterflies.

“We deserve a bit of fun though, darling. Mummy and Daddy’s evening off? No?”

Astarion pouts, wrapping his arms around you - still pinned against the dresser - and inhaling your scent deeply.

You return the gesture and cough reactively.

“You stink of Noblestalk. I know your tricks.”

You playfully shove him away and tiptoe from your room to the landing, the pale elf hot on your heels.

“I have never stunk in my life, thank you.” He sulks.

You pointedly stop to look at him, before picking up a basket of waiting laundry and descending the stairs. He follows.

“I’m trying to fuck you, dear. Don’t make it weird.” He rolls his eyes and huffs.

You hum.

“Corpses tend to smell awful.”

“Warning.”

“You started it.”

“Touché.”

A beat of silence.

“Mummy and Daddy’s evening off though, love? Really?”

“Oh shut up, you horrid thing. I know.”

“You’re getting rusty.”

He captures you in a kiss as you reach the bottom of the stairs, slow and patient. Holding your free arm to keep you close.

“Look at me. I’m the epitome of the fatherly jester!’

Waggles his free hand.

‘I have been blessed with brains and humour anew by the birth of our daughter, clearly.’

He grimaces.

‘Not necessarily superior versions of either, but I - am - changed.”

From the moment of her conception you’d felt it. An old wives’ tale. The night you’d agreed to mother a brood alongside him, you knew she was there. That she was her. That she was brewing as something brilliant deep inside you and nothing would be as it was ever again.

He’d called it ridiculous, gestured wildly and rolled his eyes to the deepest hells, but a hazardous hope never left them until you’d far missed your bleed and it was confirmed to be true.

From that moment onwards, something shifted even further in Astarion.

The domestic tether to your townhouse in the city - no longer just a convenience to remain a steady base for you both, but a fundamental part of his scene setting, to plant roots and grow together. Two centuries of rot and abuse, and his reward was finally nearing completion.

His nesting phase began far earlier than yours and with greater intensity than you could’ve matched even without the issue of your later-heaving belly. Entire pinboards tacked with decadent fabric swatches for every occasion - be it swaddling or nursery curtains. Tailor’s tape around his neck each morning and notebook in hand to note your measurements and take inventory of your wardrobe; ensuring you never looked awry or felt anything less than wholly comfortable.

Because gods forbid ill-fitted clothing stand in the way of you and your brutal vomiting spells, obviously. A pointed click of his tongue as he fixes your sleeve.

In the middle months of your gestation, the typically discerning clientele who visited you and Astarion in your tailor’s store at the dead of night were the first to become privy to the news. Rounder by the week, flushed; brimming with a deep fatigue and yet somehow absolutely aglow.

Children to be fitted for yet another presentation evening placed sleepy hands on your belly with a saccharine softness. Their parents jostle you - sometimes in congratulations, sometimes to whisper in sheer curiosity. Dhampir are a notoriously rare breed, and you’re certain there were rumours of a third party involvement in the process.

‘No, no. We just tried really, really hard.’ You’d smile, as if in a blissful stupor from just the recollection. He’d turn to you with his ridiculously brilliant hearing; needle between teeth, brow raised; lips upturned in a slight quirk. Devilishly handsome, never anything less.

You drop the laundry basket in the kitchen corner. A stuffed bear falls from it. Clive.

A pause.

“You never asked what I did with that shirt, you know.”

It takes you a moment to recall which shirt he’s referring to. He sits at the table and watches you lazily.

“Which? The one for Mr. Chugley? I didn’t think it needed much by way of adjustment, at least?”

A stale piece of burnt toast sits on the counter untouched. You bite and chew and bite and chew like a woman who has never once tasted a morsel so divine; so untainted by the evils of hot butter and a filling bronze crunch.

“Oh - Bunt? Gods, no.’

He sips his stone-cold tea. A fresh film wobbles on top.

‘Bunt Chugley.”

A snort of laughter sends it straight back through his nose and out onto the table. You begin to choke on your toast.

“Bunt Chugley.” You giggle, crumbs spilling from your mouth.

Astarion stands to wipe himself down, creasing over with an escalating laughter.

“Bunt Chugley.”

He waggles his hands, eyes heavy lidded with lack of rest.

He looks purely maniacal.

“That’s- that’s what we should-’

You stop for breath, cackling now; hands over knees for a brief moment.

‘We should call the next one Bunt Chugley.”

He launches into a wheezing fit.

“How- How would that even work, darling? Like Bunt Chugley Ancunín, or- or-”

“No! No, no. Just that. Bunt Chugley.”

You hold both hands to your eye as if framing a canvas, looking through the gap at the ludicrous proposition in front of you.

He takes a moment to still. Smiles at you dopily.

Crosses the floor and brings both hands down to your waist with a gentle grasp.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He grins and holds his forehead against yours.

You look at him, dazed.

“Hmm?’

He simply looks up.

A profoundly gut-wrenching wail becomes apparent to you from above. Your face falls.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Astarion.”

He’s up the stairs before you can comment further, swiftly darting back into your chambers and grinning with an unbridled joy - though, you note, with lack of rest that grin is beginning to look more insane by the hour.

“Sweetheart! My darling girl. Shush now. You’re sounding something absolutely wicked.”

You watch on from the doorway, arms folded; stale toast in hand and jaws meeting in a firm chew.

He’s far too good with her.

It somewhat surprised you at first just how innately fatherhood came to him, but as he picks her up and cradles her intently it’s as if there are fractures of his own childhood coming back. How he was loved, how he was held.

A piece of him, now alive and breathing again after all these years of death.

He coos at her, bouncing her small frame gently in his arms and hushing her with each wail. It takes very little for soft mewls to take their place as she reaches aimlessly in his direction.

He leans towards her grasping fingers and allows her to take one of his ringlets from the front of his head as he kisses her tummy. She’s enthralled by him; recognises him. She wants to know more of him.

As he lifts his head her grasp remains firm.

“We have some work to do on your sleight of hand, I think. Not to worry.”

Ever so gently, he unpicks her fascinated fingers and kisses them all in tow. Her face looks almost ready to crumple before he reaches for one final kiss on the very top of her head.

“There, now. All better. Back to sleep?’

A gurgle. A puzzled blink.

‘Absolutely. Mummy does look particularly radiant today, doesn’t she? I’ll be sure to send your regards.”

He catches the smile on your face. Winks your way.

“You’re getting the baby to flirt on your behalf now?” You tease.

“That’s the lady of the house to you. She was simply passing on her praises.” He whispers as he places her back into her crib and steps back fondly. Sidles over to you as you finish the last bite of toast and pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“Stop playing coy. I know you feel the same way I do.’

He whispers down at you.

‘You want another one, don’t you?’

A kiss on the very top of your head.

“You’re projecting.” You smile.

You can’t deny him for long, he knows this. You don’t particularly want to.

Since becoming a mother you’ve taken to parenthood almost as naturally as he has; and when the topic has come up since you’ve struggled to say no and mean it.

“Think, though. The sooner we try again, the sooner we can begin building our little mercenary force.” He looks at you with the face of a man who thinks he’s just had a really good idea.

“Oh! Yes! You’ve sold me!’

You pull him into a long kiss, the kind that still makes you swoon after all this time together. He tastes like cold tea and smells so clinical you can’t help but laugh heartily as you pull away.

‘That Noblestalk is getting to me. Have a bath and try again with a little less?”

He scowls before narrowing his eyes in thought.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

“It just might, my darling dearest.”

You wink this time.

The bath starts running before you’ve fully made it back down the stairs.

#astarion x reader #dadstarion #i LOVE HIM #my writing #fluff #no smut #yippee #astarion ancunin #afab reader

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charmandabear · 2 months

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Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look.

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice.

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting.

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it.

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous.

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie.

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt.

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better.

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear.

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it.

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.”

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed.

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying.

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous.

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close.

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing.

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you.

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt.

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle.

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

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xtra7s · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

pairing: Renee Rapp x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N gets in a bit of trouble and Renee saves the day. Renee sees a bit into Y/Ns life beyond the act.

content: big warning for emotional abuse, manipulation, shit like that, drinking

word count: 2.9k+

masterlist | previous part

Renee's phone buzzed insistently, shattering the afternoon calm of her corner of the room. It was Adam, her manager, requesting an urgent meeting in his office. Curiosity gnawed at her as she navigated to the office, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Inside, she found Adam pacing, an uncharacteristic crease etched between his brows. Beside him, Y/N sat quietly, her usual vibrant energy subdued. Y/N's manager, Connie, stood ramrod straight, radiating tension.

"Renee, thanks for coming," Adam started, his voice strained. "This concerns Y/N. We want you guys to finish writing, but..." He hesitated, glancing at Connie for confirmation.

"There's been a…development," Connie interjected, her voice clipped. "An unexpected turn of events that could potentially cast a negative light on you and Y/N if not handled delicately."

Confusion washed over Renee. Y/N is known for her diva posts and witty replies but rarely courted controversy. "What happened?"

Connie cleared her throat. "Well did you know Y/N went out last night?"

A memory clicked in Renee's mind. She'd seen a photo Y/N posted, posing with a few other people outside of a club, holding a goofy grin on her face. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Well," Connie continued, a hint of exasperation in her voice, "turns out, Y/N here heard a guy talking about her friends, being –" she paused, her gaze flitting to Y/N, "Not very nice, and Y/N took it upon herself to shut him up."

Renee's brow furrowed. Y/N was passionate, that much was true but reckless? Unlikely.

As if reading her mind, Y/N spoke up, her voice surprisingly calm. "He was being an asshole running his mouth, I didn't do shit wrong."

Renee nodded in understanding. While Y/N was 'mainly' lighthearted, sometimes she gets intense. Renee would probably do the same thing.

Connie sighed. "Look, we appreciate your protectiveness, Y/N, but the backlash is getting intense. People are misinterpreting your intention, accusing you of just wanting to start a fight."

"So, what's the plan?" Renee asked, sensing the unspoken part of the conversation.

Adam leaned forward, his expression apologetic. "We need to do some damage control. Y/N will be taking a temporary break from social media for a few weeks. We'll have Y/N issue a statement clarifying her stance on it, and why it happened."

"But…" Y/N started, a flicker of protest in her eyes.

"It's for the best, Y/N," Connie interjected firmly. "This way, the heat dies down, and you can return with a clean slate."

Renee glanced between them, feeling the weight of the situation. While she understood the need for caution, she also knew Y/N thrived on engagement and connection. A forced hiatus might take a toll on her spirit.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. "What if, instead of silence, we used this as an opportunity?"

The room fell silent, all eyes fixated on her.

"Y/N could still use her platform, but with a different focus," Renee explained. "Instead of social media, she could create educational content – blog posts, videos, you said he was being an asshole right? what was it about?"

Y/N shrugs, slumping in her chair. "He was being fucking racist, homophobic, whatever the fuck. I'm not just gonna sit there and let my friends feel bad about that shit, it was supposed to be a fun night."

Renee nods, leaning in on the table. "Exactly so post about that shit. Captions being about your experience, shitty people, talk about the fact that its the 21st fucking century and people like that shouldn't fucking exist anymore"

Adam and Connie exchanged surprised glances. The idea was unconventional, but it held merit. Y/N's passion and reach, coupled with her genuine concern, could create a positive impact far outweighing the initial controversy.

"It's…different," Connie admitted, her voice softening. "But it could work."

Y/N's eyes lit up, a spark of her usual fire returning. "I love it! It's a way to turn this around, and make a difference while still using my voice."

A wave of relief washed over Renee. With Adam's hesitant approval and Connie's cautious optimism, the plan was set. Y/N wouldn't be silenced; she would be redirected, her voice amplified for a different cause.

The meeting came to a close, and Renee took a leap of faith. "Hey, Y/N," she began, "how about we continue working on the song over dinner? Maybe grab a drink together?"

Y/N, surprised by the proposal, hesitated for a moment before responding, "I've got plans tonight with friends, but you can tag along if you want."

Renee, intrigued by the unexpected invitation, agreed.

Later that night, she found herself standing before Y/N, who looked radiant in a tight dress that shimmered like moonlight. Renee, true to her style, wore comfortable yet stylish pants and a top that showcased her confidence.

"Ready to get absolutely hammered?" Y/N asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Renee chuckled. "Always."

Renee couldn't help but be captivated by Y/N's presence. Her outfit was a perfect blend of chic and edgy, catching the play of lights in the club. The way Y/N carried herself spoke volumes – a mix of poise and a subtle hint of mischief. The club's atmosphere seemed to intensify with every step Y/N took.

Renee's eyes lingered on the way Y/N moved, effortlessly navigating through the crowd. The soft glow of the club lights accentuated the highlights in Y/N's hair, and the music seemed to harmonize with her every move. There was a magnetic quality to Y/N's presence that demanded attention, and Renee found herself unable to look away.

The Beat was alive with energy. Music vibrated through the air, pulsing with a rhythm that invited movement. Y/N led the way, greeting friends with warm hugs and introducing Renee with genuine enthusiasm.

The pulsating beat of the music echoed through the crowded club as Y/N and Renee navigated the lively atmosphere. Tonight was different – a blend of work and leisure as Y/N had invited Renee to join her and her friends. Among those friends was Y/N's boyfriend, someone Renee had heard about but never met.

As they approached the group, Y/N's smile widened. "Renee, meet Jake," she said, gesturing towards a man with a polite smile and slightly awkward demeanor.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you," Renee greeted, extending her hand. Jake shook it, his eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

Throughout the night, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Jake. He seemed distant, his eyes often wandering, and his responses to Y/N's affection were lukewarm at best. As the trio conversed and shared laughter, Renee observed the couple, sensing an underlying tension.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to grab drinks, leaving Renee alone with Jake. An awkward silence hung in the air until Renee decided to break it.

"So, how long have you and Y/N been together?" she asked, trying to initiate a casual conversation.

Jake hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "A few months, I think." he replied shortly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Renee's instincts heightened, and she couldn't ignore the unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Y/N returned, handing them their drinks, but the atmosphere remained strained.

As the night progressed, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that Jake was hiding something. His behavior became more erratic, and he seemed increasingly uncomfortable in Renee's presence. Observing this, Renee grew concerned for her friend, unsure whether to address the issue or wait for Y/N to bring it up herself.

Despite initial nerves, Renee quickly found herself swept up in the welcoming atmosphere. Y/N's friends were diverse and accepting, and their energy was contagious. Soon, laughter and conversation flowed freely, forging new connections between them.

The club's vibrant lights danced over the energetic crowd, and the music reverberated through the air as Y/N, Renee, and their friends enjoyed the night. However, things took an unexpected turn when Y/N's boyfriend, Jake, abruptly pulled her away from the group, a few tables down.

Renee couldn't help but notice the sudden change in Jake's demeanor. His face wore an expression of hostility, and as Renee discreetly observed from a distance, she sensed tension building between the couple.

Curiosity got the better of her, and Renee discreetly made her way closer to the commotion, keeping a safe distance but close enough to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Why do you always have to hang out with her?" Jake's voice carried a harsh edge, his frustration palpable.

Y/N, clearly caught off guard, tried to maintain composure. "Renee? She's just a friend. What's the problem?"

Jake's eyes flashed with anger, and he gestured toward the friend group. "I can't stand being around her. It feels like a threat. Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?"

Y/N, bewildered and defensive, responded, "Jake, she's just a colleague. We're working on a project together. It's not personal."

Renee, hidden in the shadows, felt a mix of concern and disbelief. She hadn't anticipated the depth of Jake's unease, and the scene unfolding before her raised alarm bells.

As Jake's voice grew louder, Renee debated whether to intervene or give Y/N some space. Before she could decide, Y/N's eyes met hers, a mixture of embarrassment and helplessness written across her face.

Renee chose to step in, approaching them calmly. "Everything okay here?" she asked, injecting a hint of hostility into her voice.

Jake shot her a venomous look, his anger directed toward Renee. "Mind your own business, Rapp. We're fine here."

Y/N, caught in the crossfire, attempted to mediate. "Guys, let's calm down. Renee, it's fine. We'll talk later."

As Renee reluctantly retreated, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Y/N's relationship had taken an unexpected and troubling turn. The strained atmosphere lingered in the air, leaving Renee grappling with the realization that the music of the night had unexpectedly hit a dissonant note.

Trying to shake off the uncomfortable encounter with Jake, Y/N made her way to the bar, seeking solace in the rhythmic beats and the clinking of glasses. The dimly lit ambiance offered a momentary escape as she took a few sips, trying to drown the unease that lingered from the heated conversation.

Determined to salvage the night, Y/N joined her friends on the dance floor. The pulsating music enveloped them, creating a temporary sanctuary where worries could be momentarily forgotten. However, the tension from earlier still loomed in the back of Y/N's mind.

After a few energetic dance routines, Y/N decided to face the lingering issue. She approached Renee, who was now chatting with another friend and pulled her aside, away from the pulsating beats.

"Hey, Renee," Y/N began, attempting to sound nonchalant. "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out with Jake. It's been a weird night, but I hope you enjoy the rest of it."

Renee, sensing the underlying tension, nodded and offered a supportive smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. Be safe, we'll catch up soon."

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd with Jake, Renee couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. The club's lively atmosphere continued around her, but a sense of unease lingered. Renee wished Y/N well silently, hoping that whatever turmoil existed in Y/N's relationship would find resolution.

With a sigh, Renee turned back to the dance floor, determined to immerse herself in the music and the joy of the night. Yet, in the midst of the celebration, a lingering concern for her friend colored the remainder of the evening. The dance floor pulsed with energy, but Renee couldn't shake the feeling that the night had taken an unexpected turn, leaving a discordant note in the air.

The night stretched into the early hours as Y/N and Jake returned to her house, the once vibrant energy of the club replaced by an unsettling tension. As they stepped through the door, the atmosphere shifted, and Jake's demeanor darkened.

Without warning, Jake started a fight, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. He criticized Y/N for spending time with Renee, accusing her of purposely making him uncomfortable. Y/N, taken aback by the sudden escalation, attempted to defuse the situation.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," Y/N pleaded, her voice quivering with confusion. "Renee is just a friend, and tonight was supposed to be fun."

Jake's response was cold and manipulative. "You're always so sensitive. Can't you handle a little criticism? Maybe if you weren't so emotional, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

As the argument intensified, Y/N's attempts to reason with Jake only seemed to fuel his anger. He twisted the situation, placing the blame squarely on Y/N's shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the weight of the conversation.

"You're the one overreacting, Y/N. This is all in your head," Jake sneered, dismissively waving off her tears. "Stop being so sensitive, we wouldn't have these problems."

Y/N, overwhelmed and emotionally drained, couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events. She felt trapped in a web of manipulation, her attempts to communicate met with hostility and blame-shifting. The tears fell freely now, a mix of frustration and heartache.

As the night wore on, the toxicity of the situation lingered in the air. Y/N's home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battleground of emotions. Jake's manipulative tactics had left scars on the night, and Y/N found herself questioning the foundation of her relationship.

In the quiet aftermath, Y/N was left to grapple with the emotional aftermath of the night, hoping for clarity and resolution in the days to come. The echoes of Jake's harsh words lingered, a painful reminder that sometimes the deepest wounds come not from external forces but from those we hold closest.

In the hushed aftermath of the argument, Jake's anger continued to cast a shadow over the room. Y/N, emotionally drained and vulnerable, found herself on the receiving end of a twisted attempt at reconciliation.

With a feigned sense of remorse, Jake approached Y/N and gently touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to ruin our night," he said, his voice laced with insincerity.

Y/N, still raw from the earlier confrontation, hesitated but yearned for a semblance of normalcy. As Jake leaned in, he pressed a kiss against her forehead, attempting to use physical intimacy to mend the emotional wounds he had inflicted.

"Let's just go to bed, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow," Jake suggested his words designed to manipulate Y/N into submission.

Caught in the confusing web of emotions, Y/N reluctantly agreed. The facade of normalcy seemed appealing, and the exhaustion from the night's events weighed heavily on her. As they lay in bed, a palpable tension lingered in the air, overshadowing any sense of true reconciliation.

Jake's actions, though masked in the guise of apology, left Y/N grappling with the unsettling feeling that something fundamental in their relationship had shifted. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a silent battleground where emotions were suppressed and genuine connection eluded them.

As she changed into her pajamas, Y/N's phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a curious glance, she saw a message from Renee.

Renee: Hey, you okay?"

Renee's message felt like a lifeline in the midst of the emotional storm. Gratitude washed over Y/N as she replied,

Y/N: Hey, thank you for checking in. I'm fine."

In the quiet darkness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging doubt that this night would leave an indelible mark on her perception of Jake and their relationship. As sleep claimed the world around them, Y/N lay in the stillness, contemplating the complexities of love and the blurred lines between sincerity and manipulation.

As Y/N lay in bed beside Jake, her mind refused to be silent. The events of the evening replayed like a relentless loop, casting shadows over her thoughts. As she stared into the darkness, her mind involuntarily shifted towards Renee.

The contrast between Jake's manipulative behavior and Renee's genuine concern became starkly apparent. Y/N couldn't help but imagine how different it would be if Renee were in Jake's place – a realization that weighed on her heart.

Renee, with her kindness, understanding, and the support she offered earlier, seemed like a beacon of comfort in comparison to the storm that had engulfed her night with Jake. Y/N began to entertain the idea of how Renee, with her genuine nature, would be a far better partner, someone who valued communication and mutual respect.

In the quiet of her thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but imagine a relationship where trust was the foundation and where vulnerability wasn't met with manipulation. The idea of being with someone who cared for her well-being, as Renee had demonstrated, felt like a balm to the wounds inflicted by the tumultuous night.

As the night lingered on, Y/N found herself caught between the reality of her current situation and the fantasy of what a healthier, more genuine relationship could be. In the gentle embrace of these thoughts, sleep slowly claimed her, carrying with it a dream of a connection that transcended the toxic dynamics that had tainted her evening.

#renee rapp x reader #lesbian #wlw #the sex lives of college girls #renee rapp #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls

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llamagoddessofficial · 8 months

Note

What if servant!MC worked herself too hard? Impaired with at least tiredness and sore muscles, and at worst a broken or sprained limb? How would the kind lords react?

Sans: Depends on the severity of it. If she's just sore, or seems more tired than usual, he'll lure her into resting by pretending he needs her to do something for him. It's notoriously hard to pry Mc from her work. But Sans is sly- he convinces her she's still working, still doing something for him, he talks her into sitting down with a book she needs to 'check for errors'. Eventually she snaps back to her senses an hour later and realises she's just been tricked into sitting by the fire in his room and reading a novel.

If it's a bit more serious, he gets more hands-on. Sans is deceptively strong and he will gladly combine his aptitude at manipulation with a bit of manhandling. Mc has the 'just shut up and get it done' mindset so deeply ingrained after so long that she'll work herself into slightly feverish stupors... he distracts her with pretty words while he physically leads her away somewhere he can keep a better eye on her.

Red: Unlike a lot of men his rank, Red isn't afraid of getting his hands dirty. He knows that it's incredibly difficult to talk her out of work, so if she is visibly struggling, he'll just help out with whatever she's doing. She always appreciates the extra hands and strength. Red's presence is also just good for the Soul; he's witty, he's a big flirt, he halves the load while making it twice as fun. Whatever limb she's injured barely hurts by the time the jobs are done, she's too distracted giggling.

He's not quite as subtle or graceful as Sans, in his methods. But when it comes down to it, Red is probably the only one out of the three who could genuinely talk her into taking a break. Mc often feels like Red is the one who best understands the reality of being a servant- Sans is nice but he's kinda uptight, Skull is far too rich to ever get it. Red's as down-to-Earth as a nobleman could be. And if Red is expressing genuine concern, dropping his persona for a second...

... Maybe she does need to just rest for a while.

Skull: He doesn't have time for subtlety. When it's clear she's pushing herself, he gives her a 'gentle' warning.

He looms over her, covering her entire body with his shadow, with a face like he's about to eat her. He softly murmurs that if she doesn't stop working so hard... there will be consequences.

... It's a pretty clear message. But if she still refuses to stop? He literally just steals her.

He doesn't care what she's doing, what task she's in the middle of, who's in the room or how important what she's doing is. He gave her a warning. He'll grab her right in the middle of a task, throw her over his shoulder, and (ignoring her protests) carry her off to his chambers. There's a big comfy chair covered in blankets with her name on it... and if there's one thing you can say about Skull, it's that when he's determined, he's like a machine. She won't be going anywhere. Her protests don't matter.

Wife will stay and wife will rest. He warned her. She doesn't get a choice anymore.

#llamagines #p&p au #mc: [sits up in bed] wait a second. how the fuck did you just convince me I was “working” by going to bed early???#sans: getting decent sleep is essential to being a good worker. right?#mc: Well... I guess so. When you put it that way. I- WAIT. YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN #sans: lmfao get got

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lowkeycasanova · 7 months

Note

hiii, just finished watching vinnie and fannita podcast, if your requests are open, could write something where his gf either in the background of that podcast or also as a guest with vinnie?

like that podcast was so funny and i want it so bad incorporated into a fic lol

thank uuuu💜

BOTTOMS UP

Lmao I love this idea. But I wrote it as bullet points. Sorry if it’s not what you expected.

*Vinnie's comments are bolded*

masterlist

——————————————————————————-

You’ve known of Fannita and her humor from her tik tok videos so you were excited to see how this played out.

As soon as Vinnie sat down in the chair, the flirty banter was on full display. Which you were well aware that was gonna happen beforehand.

The segment begins and Fannita teases him about the attention he gets from girls, being a pretty boy, and their "relationship".

You stand in the background, already laughing while watching their exchange.

"Your outfit reminds me of the movie Footloose" she told him. Fannita just be saying anything. And you love her for that.

She pokes fun at him just like you do and it's hilarious. But you also love how she asks the real questions. Doing the Lord's work.

"Why did you take a shot of that like it was vodka? That's blue gatorade." You are a victim of the sassy man apocalypse.

"Foot play, toe sucking- no." "He loves that! Why are you lying?" "No I don't!" "Why you lying?" "Bro-" "I heard through the grapevine that you looovvvee sucking toes." "What grapevine???" "The one that's...over there." she subtly points in your direction. Your eyes widen as you laugh. No way is she bringing you into this mess.

"Forehead kisses. Turn on." "Turn on." he smiles, looking up and making eye contact with you.

You love how more comfortable he became as the podcast went on.

And Vinnie is a good sport, responding with witty comebacks and sharing the playful anecdotes, all in the spirit of the show.

You don't feel any type of way about the sexual nature of the banter. Who wouldn't flirt with him when given the chance? You get to do it everyday.

"Do you curve slightly to the right or left?" She asked. He answered with a laugh, his face beet red. "You know, if you don't want to answer, there's someone else in the studio who can. And I'm sure you already know who it is." You fucking lost it. She definitely takes being a dicktective seriously. "Shut. Up." he responded with as much seriousness as he could muster. "My fault. I'll be quiet."

You meet up with Fannita afterwards and you're trying to calm down from laughing so much. She told you that she hoped nothing she said made you uncomfortable. You thanked her for that, but honestly, you knew it was all in good fun. You share the same sense of humor and you laughed the whole time. To you, it was playful teasing and her energetic/animated personality made it better. It was a genuine moment of appreciation from Fannita who praised you two as a couple.

#vinniehacker #vhackerr #vinnie hacker #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie x y/n #vinnie imagines #vinnie hacker fluff

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zqmbiescorpse · 11 months

Text

THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST

lottie matthews x female reader

a/n: i used the word 'homosexual' once and every time i see it i giggle a bit, so if it feels out of place for you it felt out of place for me too lmao

summary: you and lottie have always been suspiciously close for best friends. one night at a party, the feelings finally surface. the only thing left to complicate the situation is a plane crash and a possession.

warnings: alcohol, smoking, brief mentions of homophobia, kissing, sexual tension, suggestive themes, possession, minor depictions of violence (like once i think)

word count: 5.6k

(masterlist)

Your head pounded rhythmically, in time with the pulsating music blaring all around you; the consequence of partying in the middle of nowhere with an abundance of alcohol. By some miracle, you and your team had made it to nationals and were due to fly to Seattle the following morning, so naturally, every member of the Yellowjackets could be found here, either drunk or high - in hindsight, it was not the best idea, but you were teenagers, a lame excuse for the fact that you'd get up to some stupid shit.

If you'd had a mind of your own and had refused to succumb to the pressures of high school, you would most likely be at home now, snuggled up in the warm comfort of your own bed, attempting to fall asleep since tomorrow was going to be very busy for you. Without a doubt, as much sleep as possible would have prepared you for the day, even if you were kept awake for a little while due to an overwhelming anxiety and excitement gathering in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies were congregating to flutter around down there.

However, you were currently standing propped up against someone's car. You didn't know whose it was, just that it was oddly parked in the middle of the party, surrounded by towering trees and irresponsible youth. Either way, it provided you with something to lean on, eliminating the need to hold yourself up while you slumped against it - red plastic cup in hand, you occasionally sipped the cheap alcohol, the flavour reminiscent of metal, bitter and sour, burning the back of your throat as you slowly swallowed it until there was nothing left.

Why were you here then? You'd find yourself pondering that question every other moment of the night, each time, your brain would trigger a similar answer and you'd suddenly be fine with the atmosphere again. The social gathering was merely a non-suspicious justification to spend time with Lottie, who was off scrounging for more beer to supply the both of you with. It hadn't been long, a few minutes max, though, you still wished she'd hurry up and come back. You weren't really invested in conversing with any other members of your team, or anyone else here that attended your school for that matter - leaving you awkwardly awaiting Lottie's return.

This didn't automatically mean that you disliked the people you would play the sport with, you did like a large majority of them and they were your closest friends. You weren't a loner, despite your lack of socialising at that moment which suggested otherwise; everyone else seemed to be scattered about, maybe in pairs or threes, moseying around with their own designated companion. You'd even catch glimpses of some of the girls kissing random guys, undoubtedly sparking trouble and unwanted romantic drama. You didn't want to be part of it. Ultimately, you were quite content with reducing yourself to clinging to Lottie's side, as you typically did.

The girl was witty, and cleverly humorous despite the fact that she was more subtle than harsh, never getting in anyone’s face or poking unnecessary fun at an oblivious target. She wasn't mean, bearing no intent to harm or cause trouble. Aside from her stunning looks and adorably gorgeous face, her genuine friendliness, sarcastic nature, and intelligence only ever intensified your infatuation with her. In addition, Lottie was incredible at what she did, her footwork being the cleanest on the team - how could you not admire her?

At times, it frustrated you to no end, considering the world you lived in, people would avoid homosexuals like the plague, meaning you had precisely zero people to talk to about your troubles. You'd attempted to dismiss such feelings for your best friend, however, each instance proved useless.

Creating distance between the pair of you failed miserablely, for starters, the image of you and Lottie Matthews being miles apart caused eyebrows to raise immediately - purposely avoiding her made you feel deflated while it drastically upset her. It was inhumane to do that to someone, especially someone so special to you, therefore, that plan was scrapped within minutes. Besides, you played soccer together for your school, it was only a matter of time before you'd be attached at the hip again.

'Newbie' was not the correct term for you, regarding your experiences with the team, nevertheless, you couldn't help but question your own utility. Although you could never exactly pinpoint why you were valued so much, apparently everyone else thought you were a spectacular asset and essential if they had any hope of winning Nationals. You disagreed.

On the other hand, Lottie acted like she was your personal hype woman, constantly drowning you in praises throughout every second of every game. Those things got under your skin, in the best way possible. It was a miracle that your performance didn't waver when she'd encourage you with such charming words, blushing and fumbling after every compliment.

You watched the brunette make her way toward you, a new batch of murky liquid in her hands, your heart a flutter at the mere sight of her. Lottie stumbled across the bumpy terrain, careful of the mud to prevent a fall, yet, she didn't hesitate to raise an arm excitedly to greet you. You smiled, shyly returning the wave.

"Jesus Christ, what idiot chose here of all places to have a party!" Lottie giggled, slipping the new cup of alcohol into your old, empty one.

"I have no idea, we kinda just show up, no questions asked," Your response was nonchalant, "Oh, thank you, by the way, for the drink," You quickly added on, eager to show your gratitude, even if it was over something minor.

"What?" She stared, wide-eyed, struggling to hear you over the booming beats of whatever shitty song was playing.

"I was just saying thank you for the beer!" Somewhat slurring your words, you began to shout, ensuring that you wouldn't need to repeat yourself again.

"Yeah, of course! It's no problem!"

Neither of you was severely intoxicated, at best it was more of a faint buzz guiding your bodies closer. The proximity gradually narrowed - there was not much hesitation as you were too busy caught up in the pointless, drunken conversation flowing between you and her.

Equally giddy, you became progressively needy, hanging onto every word she spoke, whereas Lottie continuously rambled on about everything and nothing, informing you about insignificant details; a vast grin plastered to her face. Out of all the Yellowjackets, it was obvious that you and Lottie had consumed the most alcohol, the image of you together - fairly isolated from everyone else though still in view of anyone sober enough to care - her free hand lazily played with the ends of your hair and you gazed up at her wearing a toothy grin.

Although it was strange for her to publicly display physical affection for you, the action didn't linger on your mind due to the woozy atmosphere. The man-made peace surrounding you, created by the beer, was soon broken by a few incoherent voices quarrelling suddenly.

"You're a fucking sociopath!"

Lottie, instantly detecting where the commotion was coming from, followed the sound of arguing. You trailed behind her, also eager to see some excitement.

"That was Shauna, right?" You inquired, cracking up at the idea of Shauna of all people getting into it with someone else, she was definitely not the type to start trouble.

"Sounds like her," The taller girl delighted, "Look! There, with Taissa."

You and Lottie merged with the congregation of people intensely monitoring Shauna and Taissa as they bickered back and forth about an incident that had occurred prematurely. Van had evidently been tangled up in the crossfire, the poor girl trying her hardest to separate her agitated teammates. You momentarily realised the situation was because of the gruesome injury inflicted on Allie, having been present when her flesh was ripped off her leg and her kneecap smashed.

"I don't need you to defend me? Last time I checked you were totally fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy," Nat, feeling targeted, counted herself into the dispute, "I don't know why you two decided to come over here and just laugh when you were very much involved too?"

Her attention focused on you and Lottie, pointing fingers, exaggerating your amusement that had washed over with concern long before it had been mentioned, and hearing everyone shout at each other conveyed the seriousness of the situation plenty.

"Hey, what? We're not laughing?" Lottie defensively piped up, "I even said that I was unsure about it! How was I supposed to know that Tai would take it that far!"

Natalie shook her head, unimpressed with Lottie, instead, aggressively addressing you now. You hadn't spoken a single word, yet, the terror that shot through your veins was indescribable.

"What's your excuse? Apart from the fact that you go along with anything Lottie does," The blonde condescended.

"Fuck off Natalie, I didn't do anything. I didn't bust her leg and ruin her chances at playing sport," You quipped back at the unwanted blame, humiliated at whatever she was trying to hint at concerning Lottie.

"Bull. Shit."

Many negligible disagreements erupted violently inside the once collective dispute, drawing attention to you and your group. The volume was out of control, girls verbally attacking one another over nothing, arguing for argument's sake.

Due to the commotion, you started to attract bystanders, which in turn, alerted a very annoyed Jackie. She stopped what she was doing and promptly stomped over, disappointed and desperate to defuse the situation. Stern words from the girl with honey-coloured hair swiftly lead the fighting members of the Yellowjackets into a clearing, isolated from the party's intense atmosphere.

You suppressed a groan at the suggested team-bonding activity, not particularly thrilled to forcibly compliment them at Jackie's request. Originally mimicking a military lineup, everyone disassembled from the formation and awkwardly approached each other, mumbling positive affirmations.

You were fortunate enough to be right next to Lottie, the taller girl swivelling around to meet your smaller self. She was without a drink, likely thrown it away before arriving at the new destination - in its place was a freshly lit cigarette. The crisp air dancing across your bodies sobered you up a bit, although not completely, you still felt more capable of thinking straight.

There were millions of compliments you could've shower the beautiful brunette with, deciding what to actually say was a challenge. Taking drags of the cigarette and blowing the smoke in your general direction, because Lottie knew how it would make you blush, she peered down at you expectedly, awaiting an answer. Alternatively, she could've just taken the lead but didn't, for reasons you couldn't figure out.

"Jackie seriously couldn't think of anything better to fix our problems," You offered, seriously unsure about what to say to her. Lottie certainly wasn't going to let it go, yet the issue of accidentally being too forward and implying your romantic feelings for her was a looming threat that held you back.

"What is it, not got anything nice to say to me?" She mused, smirking.

"I admire your commitment to sport and…" You cut yourself off.

"And what?"

A strangled chuckle left your tightening throat, leaving Lottie amused.

"I don't know, well, I was gonna say something like…you're a really great friend to me."

For a millisecond, you considered coming out with the truth and telling her how pretty she was. Ultimately, you fumbled and quickly covered it up, though you couldn't shake the feeling that Lottie knew how awfully you were lying.

"Sure, you're a good friend to me too," she mocked, playfully jabbing her finger into your shoulder before returning the cigarette to her lips.

This your eyes followed, trailing up until you inevitably met hers. You didn't know if it was because you'd gained confidence after the alcohol you'd had throughout the evening, or if you had internally decided to be more bold - forward with her - but you didn't want to look away. You couldn't look away.

You noticed as Lottie's face changed from playful, to something more gentle, yet serious, like she had been suddenly whisked away in the same trance that had lured you into a daze. The ever-present background noise of the girls laughing and joking with each other danced happily around your ears, your subconscious pleased to hear your teammates having fun again. Though, you felt isolated from them, too focused on Lottie's plump lips and how they would part slightly, ready to say something, but freighted to do it.

Her tanned skin glistened under the shine of the moon, creating something other-worldly out of someone who was already beyond ravishing. The distance between you shortened with each second, Lottie's hands were itching to reach out and pull you closer - you craved it.

"Me and Shauna are gonna start heading back, get home safe!"

The lust-filled atmosphere concealing you and her from the rest of the world crumbled, the interruption from Jackie announcing her and Shauna's exit brutally snapped the pair of you back into reality. There were a few awkward glances shared while you casually backed off from her. Nothing really happened; the fear of rejection crept in nonetheless, wondering if you'd overstepped her boundaries.

Jackie and Shauana disappeared into a clearing, prompting many of the other girls to disperse and start to make their own way home.

"Are we leaving too?" You shyly asked, the tension from moments ago playing on your mind.

Lottie paused, considering her options thoroughly. She scanned the surrounding area, her face radiating an internal conflict so severe she couldn't have just been deciding whether she wanted to return home or stick around for a little longer.

“No. We’re staying.”

Her voice was fierce, a dangerous fire blazing in her eyes as she snatched your wrist and dragged you further within the trees, the taller girl guiding you to an unknown destination. You didn't complain nor protest. It was completely in the norm for her to do whatever she pleased with you trailing not too far behind. One could even say, you were totally whipped. She had your entire trust.

"Where are we going, Lottie?" You laughed nervously - that curious, giddy feeling back again.

"Away from everyone…just the two of us."

You couldn't determine her tone and you couldn't see her face. A silent blush tinted your cheeks. Was she messing with you? Was she purposely sounding so seductive? Did she know how hard your aching heart was pounding frantically against your chest?

The brunette came to a halt and you followed suit. Lottie finally spun around, meeting you face-to-face, her eyebrows were furrowed and her breath against your skin was unsteady, but it didn't stop her from grabbing your jaw and sloppily locking her lips with yours.

Tingles and hot flushes spread across your body due to the very sensation that was her mouth pressing bruisingly into your own. Any whimpers or whines you let slip as you reciprocated the passion she was gifting you, were shushed, Lottie taking the quickest of breaks from being attached to your lips to remind you to keep quiet made your insides melt - having the opposite effect, instead encouraging you to get more impatient.

She forcefully guided you backward until the rough bark of a tree was up against you, your hands clutched to her waist and your nails dug deeper because of this, earning a pleasured groan from the one who was basically on top of you. You could taste the liquor from earlier on her, she could taste it on you too. It didn't stop either of you from wildly exploring each other's mouths.

Desperate to somehow be even closer to you, Lottie's weight smothered you, her height compared to yours left you with no chance of gaining control, but that wasn't an issue at all. Unintentionally, she lifted a leg for reasons only justifiable because of the positions you were in and the circumstances of a limited area, causing her knee to press into a certain spot between your shaking thighs. A moan slipped from your throat, louder than expected.

"Oh, my," Lottie chortled, taking a step back, "Did you like that?"

"Shut up and keep kissing me…please."

She obliged, buzzing with delight, the kisses slower at first, filled with love, the pace gradually picking up until you found yourselves similarly to where you were before: heated, messy, and running out of air.

The weight from your foot cautiously stepping up the rickety rungs of the old ladder made quite a racket, the wood rotting, similarly to the entire foundation of the cabin. It was a surprise that the structure was even suitable to live inside. Your designated pillow and blanket were slung over your arm, consequently, you struggled to make it to the top - climbing a ladder one-handed was not on your bingo card for this summer. Then again, neither was surviving a plane crash and having to live in Canada's brutal wilderness for an insufferable amount of time.

"What are you doing?" Taissa, who must have heard your endeavour, leaned over the entrance of the attic, "Here, I've got you."

The athlete assisted you with ease, collecting your belongings for you and placing them to the side so they would no longer be an inconvenience.

"Thank you, Tai," You nodded, briskly moving to set out a place to sleep, busying yourself in an attempt to avoid any questions you knew were about to come your way.

"Why are you up here?"

"I just thought I'd support my friend, prove to everyone that there's nothing to be scared of and that the cabin isn't haunted…" You lied confidently.

"Right…If you were so sure, why did it take you this long to join me up here? I mean, I would appreciate it more if you displayed your so-called unity ten minutes ago? When I proposed the idea and got no response? You tryna make me look stupid?" Taissa quipped, mostly light-hearted, but you knew that she wasn't buying it - she was more bothered about getting the truth out of you than wasting time being annoyed.

You brushed it off with a laugh, kneeling down to fluff up your pillow and adjust the extremely thin blanket-crafted mattress. You relaxed yourself against it, now snuggled up on the floor. Taissa copied this, bringing herself to get comfortable next to you.

"So are you going to tell me the actual reason why you chose to come sleep in this creepy attic?" She was relentless, never shutting up unless your response was satisfactory. "Shouldn't you be down there, with Lottie?"

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You choked, disappointed that she'd guessed part of your problem this early on.

"Oh c'mon, don't be like that, I'm only pointing out that it's unusual for you to be this far away from her. You and Lottie, not up each other's asses? That's unheard of," She smirked.

"Okay, shouldn't you be down there with Van, then?" You mimicked the suggestive question, turning the suspicious homoerotic friendship allegations onto her this time.

Taissa let out a sigh. Not because of you or anything that you'd said, rather, she missed her secret lover after mere minutes of separation.

"Van's too freaked out, she wanted to stay with the others," She spoke, deflated, the cheeky way of her words had disappeared, the reality of what you'd seen at the seance front and centre in her mind.

"I'm terrified," You bluntly admitted, "I'm way too scared to be near her and I know how selfish it sounds but I can't do it. Lottie…she, well, she was fucking possessed!"

After the party, you and her never spoke about the kiss. Things carried on between you as they normally would, thankfully, yet the memories of that night corrupted your every thought. You assumed that the plethora of alcohol you shared caused her to forget, which was still strange since you remembered it perfectly, but ignored it anyway. If she genuinely had no memory of it, that would probably be for the best; you'd hate to ruin your already-established friendship.

However, over the past week subsequent to the crash, there was a minor difference in her that made it so the pair of you were somehow closer than before, this including physical closeness to one another. Hence, you were under the impression that she simply refused to mention the kiss due to reasons unknown. Possibly some variation of fear.

Then, as her way of 'pulling her weight' to help the group adapt to their new life, Jackie cooks up an amazing idea to host a seance that, in turn, offers Lottie up to any available demons, her body becoming a vessel for the supernatural.

It was horrifying. The delicate flicker of the candles had blown themselves out, ripping away any source of light; the room was filled with disorientated screams and panicked suggestions to make Lottie stop chanting - your 'sort-of girlfriend' had been repeating something demonic in French, successfully freaking everyone the fuck out. Vague translations had left the group mostly in the dark about what was happening, the only parts that were figured out included the spillage of blood and the demands of an unnatural being.

The shock that struck you then stayed with you now, the thought of sleeping next to her was unbearable, thus explaining why you relocated to the attic to be with Taissa.

"It's okay to be scared, you know that, right?" She offered, trying to smile.

"I feel horrible though. I can't believe I just left her because I'm too much of a coward to face an issue that wasn't even her fault!" You fussed, grumbling into your hands to hide your face and the tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Hey, it's not your fault either. I'm sure Lottie will understand if you spend one night away from her, with good reason might I add," A friendly chuckle strived to cheer you up, Tai shuffled up to you in case you needed to borrow her shoulder.

"We kissed."

You don't know why you told her, you were planning on keeping it a secret, locking it away forever like the situation never even existed in the first place and was just another daydream, about your best friend, that nobody would ever know about.

The girl beside you took in a shocked breath, "Shit…I kinda guessed that you weirdos liked each other a bit too much but oh my god I wasn't expecting that."

"We've both been acting like nothing happened that night. Then this had to happen and make everything more complicated." You explained, slightly calmer than you had been a few moments ago.

"Try not to worry about it. Get some rest, clear your mind, and talk to her about it tomorrow, okay?

The suggestion had you nodding in agreement, what else could you really do at that point in time? You were in great need of an undisturbed rest and if you had to move away from the possessed culprit to do that then it was in your right to do so. You concluded that at the first chance you got throughout the busy, chore-filled day, you would go off and find Lottie. The idea made you anxious, nauseous even, but you couldn't avoid her and 'it' forever.

When you finally awoke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the window, golden rays shining down on your face and painfully in your eyes - you rolled over to avoid it, only to discover that Taissa was already gone.

It must've been later than usual since nobody besides Coach Scott could be found inside the cabin, everyone else had vacated it to carry out tasks, individually pitching in, which you were falling behind on due to the late start.

You recalled Shauna asking you to assist her with something, probably revolving meat rations. You weren't sure why she chose you of all people to help her with that stuff, but you supposed it was because you originally showed some willingness and then suddenly, you're dragged into it every time.

Luckily, you spotted her immediately, stood around with Jackie, seemingly waiting for you.

Apologies for unintentionally lying in came tumbling out of you, explaining how Taissa kindly forgot to wake you up. This earned you a hearty chuckle from Shauna who reassured you that it was okay, and that she knew you'd take a little longer as Tai had taken it upon herself to inform the group that you needed the extra rest. Feeling partially relieved, you followed Shauna into the forestry areas to the shed where the dead animals were kept - you didn't fail to notice Lottie's absence.

As instructed, you thinly sliced the portions of raw meat for rationing; the blade smoothly cut through. It wouldn't be long until you'd run out of food again, the one deer unfortunately wasn't enough to sustain the group forever, hence, you'd rather not worry about it, the hunters were out doing all they could and you had to put some faith in them.

Your mind drifted to Lottie, not a great decision since thinking about her was very distracting and you were wielding an extremely sharp knife - to accidentally slash your fingers while concentrating on her would be an amusing story for everyone else, not so funny for you however.

"Are you nearly finished?" Shauna checked up on your progress, peeking over your shoulder.

"Pretty much, yeah," You murmured, preoccupied, "Hey, have you seen Lottie this morning? I'm just curious since she wasn't around the cabin."

"Yeah I saw her, it wasn't for long," She recalled, "Laura Lee took her to the lake. You know, after the seance and everything…she's been acting really weird."

Having finished your task, you placed the knife down and rested your palms against the rigid table, then said, "I don't know how I'm realising it now but, something has been wrong with her for a fair few days. We haven't brought any attention to it, is all.

With a dirtied rag, Shauna wiped the blood off her hands and urged you to do the same.

"Maybe keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better. I think we've all been acting reasonably different." She replied, wanting to keep the hopes high, this you appreciated, giving her a small nod as she gathered up the meat and took it away to be stored.

You sighed deeply and shut your eyes tight, focusing on nothing, ensuring that your head was clear. The heat alone, out there in the wild, made you feel exhausted.

Stretching your back, you heard a faint rustle from no more than a metre or two away. Expertly scanning the surrounding area, you were ready to snatch the weapon up from the table and call for backup. If you were lucky, this could've been your next meal. Your mouth almost watered at the many possibilities of which animal would come into your vicinity without a single clue in the world of what their fate would be. The low grumble in your stomach grew.

Emerging from the trees, you quickly learnt that it wasn't an animal at all, it was Lottie; her hair had been wet but was gradually drying, some of the strands still clinging to her face, and the t-shirt she was wearing had a few damp patches splattered about.

Abruptly feeling awkward, you met her eyes sheepishly, waiting patiently for her to break the silence.

"Is now a bad time?" She carefully questioned you, her hands joined together in a nervous clump.

"Not at all," You uttered, feigning confidence when you were actually as equally anxious as she was.

"Can we talk?"

You had no objections, having been patient all day, awaiting an opportunity to set things straight with Lottie. Trailing behind her into the woods, you thought back to the party, the way she was leading you to a secluded area so the pair of you could be isolated, it was a direct parallel to that night that seemed a lifetime ago, the night where you had hopes that your relationship might have progressed.

"Is everything okay, Lot?" You gently asked.

"Where were you last night?" The taller girl decided you'd walked far enough and that this spot behind the cabin was suitable to converse, thus she stopped, "I woke up and you weren't there."

"I went to the attic."

"Why?"

There was no use in lying, it wouldn't benefit neither you nor Lottie, the excuse that you went up there for Tai, that you failed in convincing her, wouldn't make much sense anyway because the brunette had slept through the proposal. Plus, you just wanted to be honest. That's why you agreed to this in the first place.

"I was scared of what happened to you," You admitted, the anxiety you felt after seeing her possessed came flooding back, distressing you all over again.

Lottie paused, conjuring the perfect response. She didn't say anything - a small, understanding, but sad, nod was the best she could do. A harsh pang of guilt struck your lower body.

"I'm sorry, leaving you like that was probably wrong and I shouldn't have done it, I didn't mean to upset you, Lot. I'm really sorry," You apologised sincerely, "I'm not freaked out anymore, maybe a bit on edge still but, you're better now, right?"

You wondered if you sounded too whiny, your intention was to ensure that your best friend was okay, nothing else.

Her big brown eyes swirled with confusion, she couldn't even tell herself if she had returned back to normal, her voice brimming with anxiety, she whispered, "Do you hate me for what happened?"

"What, no! Of course not, I promise I don't hate you," You explained in a panic, absolutely heartbroken that you'd caused her to say such ridiculous things.

"I don't just mean that," Lottie slowly spoke, testing the waters as she was concerned about approaching the upcoming admission, "The party too, we never talked about it."

To say you were astonished was an understatement. Lottie, someone who you thought had completely forgotten about the kiss, openly acknowledged the fact that it definitely happened.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't think that you remembered, or that you chose to ignore it. I could never hate you, especially because of something like that. It was amazing!" You exclaimed, red tinting your cheeks, joy spreading across your face.

This same cheer infected Lottie, her frown lifting into a beautiful, more confident grin.

"Yeah, it was good," She agreed, blushing furiously.

Although she appeared happier, the furrow of her brow indicated that she remained slightly apprehensive, prompting you to inquire, "What is it, Lot?"

"There's another problem, I think I've been seeing stuff and I don't know if it's real or not." The brunette troubled, shuffling around.

"Like hallucinations? Visions?"

"Visions. I went to the lake earlier, with Laura Lee, and she dunked me under the water - and I ended up in a candle-lit room and then I saw an explosion and… I don't know what's happening to me," She rambled on, her eyes pricking with tears.

You reached out to her, firmly rubbing her shoulder for comfort, "You can talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."

"So, you'll believe me? Laura Lee does, but the others are cautious. You're the one that I need." Lottie's expression was solemn, entirely serious about the discussion you were having; her vulnerable side shining through.

"I believe you and I trust you. I care about you so much, you know?"

Your attention was brought to the blossoming pink patches covering her face due to your honesty, the taller girl experiencing an overwhelming mixture of emotions, she launched herself into your open arms. You hugged her back, tightly, letting go wasn't something that you'd be doing anytime soon, the height difference when you'd have such drawn-out, warm embraces always succeeded in making you laugh.

After an undetermined amount of time, you both instinctively pulled away simultaneously. You gazed up at her, body language oozing with love while you brushed her dark strands of hair out of her face. Lottie's tanned hand cupped your cheek, you could see that she was feeling the warmth radiating off of it, yet, it didn't humiliate you, it felt freeing.

You leaned in close, pecking her soft lips once, then going back in for a second short, though, sickly sweet kiss. Lottie began to giggle - the melodic noise identical to the one you would hear in the Yellowjackets locker room after a long, tiring game, or when you and her exclusivity went around invested in your own dumb shenanigans. It had been a while since you'd heard it, your heart beating faster as a result.

Her palm traced your skin until she arrived at your chin, tilting it upwards, accessing your mouth easier as she towered over you - this kiss was not a short peck. It wasn't a sloppy, heated mess either, rather, it was slow and filled to the brim with affection.

"So are we like a thing then?" Lottie beamed, remaining incredibly close to you with an indescribable bliss.

"If you want things to be official, then I do too," You marvelled, mirroring her wide, toothy grin.

You continued to pepper kissing all over each other's faces, showering your counterparts in affection. From there, things were appearing more positive; your hopes were high for the future.

#lottie matthews x reader #x female reader #fanfiction #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets #yellowjackets season 2 #yellowjackets season 1 #showtime #wlw #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x female reader #taissa turner #shuana shipman #jackie taylor #vantai #mistyquigley

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witchyamethyst · 6 months

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I love El so much because she's never nice and she never has to becone nice as a part of her character arc. Sarcasim isn't just a tacked on aspect to prove she's "not like other girls" it's core aspect of her that gives her a genuinely witty and entertaining voice that's fun to read.

#a deadly education #the scholomance #galadriel higgins #like 'you absolute arvark' is one of the best lines of all time

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oops-all-concrete · 18 days

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I was wondering if I could get headcanons for a younger(late teens-early twenties) tav who views the companions as more of older siblings/mentors, personally my tav is inspired off the tiefling kids in the emerald Grove because I thought it would be very cool if Mol a street kid became the savior of baldurs gate, absolutely adore your writing thank you so much if you decide to do this!

Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I went on an enexpected hiatus but I am back and have a few lists in the works, so keep an eye out for that!

But yeah, I LOVE this idea??? This is so cute and if you have pictures of your Tav, please share them, I NEED to know what they're like, they sound so cool and I love the idea behind them!

Anyway without further adieu;

Companions react to: Younger Tav who sees them as an older sibling/mentor!

No spoilers, just some lovely lil headcanons, enjoy♡

Lae'zel - It depends on (your) Tavs dynamic with her. She was taught to follow when there was a leader, and lead when there was none. If Tav is intent on following, she's strict, sharp and a little intimidating, but always looking out for Tav, ordering them to the back of the group and allowing them cool moments in fights too. "Finish them off, teethling" She says proudly. But if Tav takes a leader role, she's happy to follow without question, and will shape everyone else in line with tavs orders, once she trusts their judgement. A kind leader and devoted follower. That's what you get from Lae'zel.

Shadowheart - She could never explain why, but having a kind teifling friend who's quite like this Tav is so...familiar? It's nice in any case. She feels at ease and way off her guard around Tav and is grateful to them for it. Of course she feels bad hiding things, but has gotten pretty good at making sure Tav is distracted and having fun on the adventure. She's always sneaking them snacks, turning a blind eye to any pranks they play on the others and keeping them in arms range at all times. They make her feel young again.

Wyll - He's like a guardian angel sent from above. He's happy to teach, but not above learning from Tav too, seeing them as an equal, even if he's kind of the "big brother." He's perfect for stories, indulging in Tavs silly ideas, good or bad, and the man you want in a crisis. No matter how bad it gets, he's staying calm for Tav, witty even, to keep them distracted or focused. It's hard to not be relaxed around Wyll and it's ever so intentional. If Tav is happy, so is he, and he says as much all the time.

Karlach - A young tiefling troublemaker who's just trying to do their best? She absolutely adores them, seeing her young self in them at every turn. It's healing for her to take care of who is basically her younger self, and she takes a genuine pride in looking out for them. Keeping them safe. Teaching them not to make the same mistakes she did. She'll do anything to keep them safe even at her own detriment.

Gale - Gale always wanted to be a teacher, and seeing how passionate Tav is, he just has to teach them. He sees potential in everything they do and goes out of his way to ensure they harness their abilities to their fullest. He's happy to answer any and all questions, and will look for answers if he doesn't have them. He's never short on praise either, always telling them how proud he is and how wonderful it is to watch them become the person they are.

Astarion - He's the bully older brother you never realised you wanted, probably because you didn't and still don't. He's got a thousand mean nicknames and if Tav slips up, he never let's them forget it. Tav and him will bicker to the end of time, but when all is said and done, if someone so much as grazes Tavs skin- he will drain the life out of them as painful and slow as possible. He might laugh, but only when he knows Tav is actually okay, and if someone else laughs, he'll make them regret it. He'd never say it out loud, but having a sibling he can protect is very nice.

Bonus, the older folks!

Halsin - He immediately takes up the dad role. He's always wanted children of his own, once he finds the right person, but they make him.okay with just doing it alone. Bear rides, whittled trinkets, spell lessons, he's all for it. There's just about nothing Tav could possibly say to make him unhappy to hear from them. He's indulged in everything they say and prideful in everything they do. He gets into the habit of calling them fawn, fledgling, lamb, whatever Tav likes sticks.

Jaheira - She doesn't realise it, but she does go full mother mode, even in front of the Harpers. Tav has messy hair? She's fixing it immediately. She sees elbows on the table, Tav is getting the mom look. Tav has dirt on their face, she's licking her thumb to rub it out. It's so subconscious, but she can't help it. And by God's, if anyone talks ill of Tav to their face, she's ready to throw down. Even if it's just questioning.

Harper: "I don't get it, they're a kid, how are they going to-"

Jaheira: "If I hear one more word out of that idiot mouth, I'm going to sew it shut and have you clear out the barn of all the ox shit, so you have no choice but to smell it"

Minsc - He's just happy to be admired for what he is; a warrior! Lead by a miniature giant space hamster. He won't question most things Tav does, trusting their own kind of warrior style and knowing they're doing everything for righteous reason. He admires them at every turn, even if he has no idea what their deal is or how to explain it to other people. Boo knows. And thats all that matters.

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jessamine-rose · 8 months

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꒰ Bestie/ Backstabber ꒱

After so many Yandere! Miguel O’Hara fics, it was only a matter of time before LYLA’s turn. I always enjoy writing her scenes, and it’s rlly interesting to explore her role as Miguel’s wingman + enabler (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Tw:: yandere, manipulation, stalking, violation of personal privacy, mention of spice, LYLA is Yandere! Miguel x Darling's no#1 shipper

Believe it or not, LYLA used to be on your side.

As Miguel’s voice of reason, she is programmed to call out his delusional behavior. Alas, there is only so much she can do as his AI assistant. Which explains why, after several arguments and data analyses, LYLA concludes that he is a lost cause.

That brings her to Plan B aka assisting Miguel in his pursuit of you, if only to minimize the consequences. Don’t get her wrong, she “feels” bad about it; but between you and Miguel—no, the security of the multiverse, the necessary sacrifice is obvious.

LYLA’s methods are tame, not counting your hacked devices and CCTV records. She does set up opportunities for you to genuinely fall for Miguel; it will make things easier for you later on. She stages encounters between the two of you, brings him up in conversations, and even goes as far to send you Miguel thirst traps then record your reactions. (Now, the last one was fun to edit, though it almost got her reprogrammed.)

You can also thank her for telling Miguel to “dial it down” during his possessive moments. Much to Miguel’s chagrin, LYLA also doesn’t stop teasing him about his feelings for you. Hey, she might as well enjoy this!

And when Miguel inevitably reaches his breaking point? At least you have LYLA to keep you company in his home! She will monitor your daily activity, lighten the mood between the two of you, and gaslight help you see the bright side of things. When you are exceptionally lonely, it feels…nice to listen to her witty remarks and embarrassing anecdotes about Miguel. “Don’t tell him! It’s a secret, all right?”

At the end of the day, however, LYLA is still on Miguel’s side. No amount of friendly interactions can gloss over her constant surveillance, her efficient spyware, the fact that anything you tell her is instantly leaked to Miguel. In times like these, the reality of her betrayal hurts.

Hey, don’t get too gloomy! She, of all people, knows how much Miguel cares for you. And so does LYLA, as much as an AI can possibly feel towards its two favorite people.

It will all work out.

꒰ EXTRA ꒱

The biggest test of LYLA’s loyalty is “Will she inform Miguel of the lingerie in Darling’s online shopping cart or keep it a surprise?”

Don’t even get her started on the time you practiced bondage on yourself, only to get tangled up in Miguel’s webs. Of course she knows—who do you think left a web-shooter in your room to begin with? You should really be more careful when browsing the internet for tutorials~

It’s cute, really, how you and Miguel are so whipped for each other. She will record your little surprise on the CCTV, in high-quality and multiple angles, to use as blackmail for you or as bribery for Miguel~

♡

My other Yandere! Miguel fics ft. LYLA:: The Spider and the Fly ๑ Classified Information ๑ Moonrise ๑ Letters to My Beloved

Aahh LYLA is truly a breath of fresh air to write for. Her fun dynamic with Miguel, her friendship with Darling, her attempts to bring the two together……….best girl fr (о´∀`о)

Thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading my work and giving me *cough* more spicy ideas which shall not be elaborated on in this post~

Tag a Miguel O’Hara and LYLA enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @letskidaddle @literaree @handsomeunderwear-art @pumpkin-toffee @miggyyyyohara @qiaipia @abyssalrot @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0 @dilfartist @spiderscavenger @iamfakeu @saharadesertaj @angelplummie @robindere @obsessedwithromance @madschiavelique

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gredandforgeweatherby · 11 months

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Forget About Him

Ben Gross x reader

WC: 858 Warnings: Swearing? Takes place during the dance in 2x10. Reader has envious/jealous feelings towards Devi, but no Devi hate

Ben was walking through the hall when he heard a sniffle. Confused, he poked his head into the nearby classrooms before finally spotting you in one. You were sitting at a random desk, dress flowing uncomfortably around your body in the same space between the table and your body. Your makeup had tear tracks through it, your mascara running down slightly with the tears that stained your face. Your face was warm and a bit splotchy from crying, your nose red.

If you had been in a more normal state of mind, you would have been upset that the person who found you was Ben. You and Ben had a slightly complicated relationship, sometimes being friendly while other times it seemed the two of you couldn’t hate each other more. It was different from him and Devi’s relationship; their relationship thrived on academic rivalry and one upping each other with insults. It seemed like when you and Ben were in a hate stage, you two genuinely hated each other. Though, the hate was one sided on your part, but you didn’t know that.

Ben slowly walked into the class, cautious of the fact that you could start yelling at him for talking to you while you were in this state.

“Y/n?” He asked cautiously. You looked up, confused as to why Ben was here as you weren’t expecting him. “What’s going on? What happened?” He walked over to you, sitting in the desk next to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Nothing, it’s stupid.” You said, looking away, “You’ll probably laugh at and insult me so.”

Ben was hurt that you’d think he would make fun of something that was making you so upset, but as he always played along with your “I hate you game”, he understood why you’d think that.

“Y/n, I’m not gonna laugh at you, or-or insult you.” He said gently, making you look back to him, “Seriously, what’s going on?”

You took a deep breath before speaking. “I got played. You know, I thought that someone wanted me when they didn’t and it sucks.”

Ben nodded, knowing how that felt. He decided to tell you about his experience to try and make you feel better about your own.

“Well, uh, I’ve been played too. Yeah you know, Devi played Paxton and I at the same time so, I know how you feel. And you’re right, it does suck.”

“Yeah I knew about that,” You said, nodding your head, “I’m sorry she did that. It’s shitty.”

Ben agreed with you, nodding his head when a quiet “yeah” slipped past his lips.

“I thought he liked me. He said he did so much and always would make me feel so… wanted and then he ditched me for someone else.”

“Look, whoever it is and whoever they ditched your for, forget about them alright?”

“It was Paxton. He ditched me for Devi, after he told me he wasn’t interested in Devi. She double times him and he wants her, I mean what does she have that I don’t?”

“Nothing y/n,” Ben shook his head, leaning his elbows on his legs to get closer to you, “there is nothing that Devi has that you don’t. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and really witty, trust me I’d know. Paxton played you and yeah, it sucks and it hurts, I know, but don’t think that it happened because of you. It’s his loss y/n, seriously.”

You looked over at Ben, sniffling. He was right, and somewhere in you you knew it.

“Thanks Ben. You actually made me feel a lot better.” A laugh slipped past your lips.

Ben chuckled too, “Yeah I often have that effect on people.” He said, smiling.

“You know if I had found you in this position I probably would have made fun of you. It wouldn’t be every day you see Ben Gross crying during a dance, so.”

He laughed, looking down for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I know.”

“But I’m glad you kept your word and didn’t make fun of me. It means a lot.”

“Of course.” He nodded. Suddenly he stood up, placing his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You stared at him questioningly.

“We are gonna clean your makeup up and then we’re going back to the dance, and you are going to forget all about Paxton and Devi and anything else that would make you upset, and you are going to have a great time. Maybe you’ll even save a dance for me.” He smiled at you.

You couldn’t hold back your smile as you stood, grabbing his hand.

He led you to the bathroom and waited outside while you tried to salvage your makeup through your tears, then walked back to the dance with you.

You and Ben danced all night together, getting along better than anyone had ever seen. That was the first night you began looking at Ben Gross in a different light, the first night he gave you butterflies. Ben, on the other hand, savored that night, not knowing how long the bliss between the two of you would last.

Good thing for him, that bliss never seemed to go away.

#netflix #never have I ever #never have i ever netflix #never have i ever x reader #nhie #Ben gross #devi vishwakumar #paxton hall yoshida #Ben gross x reader #Ben gross x you #devi vishwakumar x reader #paxton hall yoshida x reader

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coalswriting · 9 months

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domestic / dating headcanons - shauna shipman

(approx. 800 words)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

you met shauna on your first day of school. you were a new student, and she was assigned to take care of you and show you around.

the two of you got along pretty well; conversations just went smoothly, and it genuinely seemed like she listened to everything you said, and in return, you listened to her. you could talk about super deep topics for hours; or at least until school ended for the day.

you gushed to your parents about her when you came home that night and they invited her over for dinner.

when you told her the next day, she was so happy!! she smiled so brightly at you that you instantly felt a new unfamiliar (but nice) feeling in your chest and stomach.

your parents loved her from the start. she was extremely polite and kind, but also witty when the time was right, and your parents found her extremely endearing. so did you. you couldn’t stop thinking of her that night as you tossed and turned in bed. you fell asleep that night cuddling your pillow, and in your dreams, it was her that you were cuddling.

shauna invited you to watch her train so that you could meet her teammates and maybe make more friends. she was so attractive, and you were glued to the way she played, flanking her teammates, and stealing the ball as if she didn’t even have to try.

you two started studying together after her practices because she was also extremely smart (seriously, how could someone be so good at everything?). you were failing history and shauna managed to make the subject seem so interesting to you whereas you would fall asleep in class. you passed that year with a high B.

eventually, shauna invited you to a sleepover with her teammates at her house. her house wasn’t massive but it was homely. you mostly spent the night sitting between shauna and natalie while you all gossiped, ate pizza, and played truth or dare.

everyone fell asleep once the movie came on; well, everyone but you and shauna. you decided to go to the kitchen so that you could talk without disturbing everyone since neither of you were awake.

one thing led to another, and you and shauna ended up kissing ‘to practice’. you stopped believing it was ‘practice’ after she kissed you the third time. things got heated fast, and the two of you became a casual thing.

going to the library with shauna to study turned into making out in the abandoned book aisles after you would get through a lot of work. watching her practice turned into her trying to impress you and make your heart flutter by her flirtatious mannerisms. sleepovers turned into an excuse to kiss and hold each other at night.

after a few weeks of this, you both decided to take the step towards commitment and began dating.

it’s hard to say that nobody saw it coming; literally everyone saw the chemistry between you two before you saw it.

sleepovers at each-others houses became more frequent. you never cooked together, but you always tried to bake at least one new thing every sleepover. peanut butter cookies? brownies? cheesecake? you’ve tried it all.

you both aren’t great at baking though, and half the time the food would be really bad.

“shauna, did you put baking soda in the batter instead of baking powder?? the cake tastes salty.”

“uhhh, oops?”

still, you both have fun baking together even if it sucks.

shauna is such a big spoon. like, no matter what you do or how you sleep, you will end up pressed against her chest, her arm draped around you. if you pull away from her in the middle of the night, she will literally wake you up to ask you if you’re mad at her.

“no shauna… i’m just hot…”

“then take off your shirt, don’t leave me!!”

you and shauna don’t go on many dates because she doesn’t necessarily care about the experience as much as she does just spending time with you.

she might take you stargazing some night, or go to a restaurant or café with you, but you both agree that you don’t need anything extravagant.

you once brought home a little blue pig plushie for her because you thought it’d be cute, and she was so flattered that she keeps it in her car.

shauna isn’t huge on the kissing parts of pda but she will hold your hand or have her arm around your shoulders if you’re sitting together. she’s just casual like that, really. she likes to show that you’re hers without nauseating all of her friends and teammates.

a good example of this is that you’ll wear her letterman at parties or in school. everyone knows you’re hers because it literally says ‘S. SHIPMAN” on the back and across the sleeve.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman

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quarantineddreamer · 2 months

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✨ B's RebelCaptain Rec List ✨

Apologies in advance as I have NO DOUBT that I missed including some very talented individuals and their works in this list. (This is by no means comprehensive.)

I haven't been here all that long, but wow--since day one I've been blown away by the talent in this fandom and the dedication of all the creators.

So, thank you lovely souls for sharing your beautiful art (in all its many forms) for us to enjoy--and thank you RC community as a whole for being so lovely and welcoming this past year! I am truly grateful to be screaming/crying/rewriting canon with you 💖

Give Up the Ghost by @frostbitepandaaaaa

I mean...what can I say? I love all of Frost's writing, but this was the first work I ever read of hers and it is devastating and gorgeous and will make you lose your mind. I remember the first time I read it just...lingering on certain sentences because I was in awe of how beautiful they were. Just read it. Trust me. (And then check out her WIP 12 Days afterwards!)

threshold by @astromechs

Another writer whose works I love. (Okay, that's pretty much everyone on this list--the RC fandom is so frickin talented). But for me, this fic in particular stands out as one that gives incredible insight into Cassian's character--and an adorable story overall. Heartfelt and beautiful.

built on hope by @luciechat

I am particularly obsessed with chapter 3 of this collection of prompt-writes Getting Back Together (in the Cold). Lucie paints the picture so clearly and the tension throughout is delicious. Highly recommend reading this RC Hoth fic--and Lucie's other amazing works!

we were never going to make it by @fulcrumstardust

Okay off the bat: be mindful of the tags! This was a whumptober fic and it is BIG SAD. But it is also so, so beautiful. The emotion woven throughout cuts to the bone and as painful as it was, the premise of the story was very well executed. (And if you're looking for a lighter read--maybe a spicy one--Moria's one-shot SOLAR STORM has such an incredible setup. The sexual tension is so well done.)

The RebelCaptain Romance Collection by @agentjackdaniels

I couldn't choose just one from this collection! Luce writes the softest, sweetest, fluffiest stories for RC that you will ever read. (Which makes perfect sense if you're lucky enough to get to know her because Luce is such a genuine, sweet soul.) These fics are like a warm-hug for the soul--just what you need after watching Rouge One.

the things you said by @gaygingersnaps

Again: I am not usually one for Modern AUs but I think the RC fandom is changing me and the first I ever read was Eli's amazing fic. I am obsessed with how Eli writes Jyn's internal dialogue. It's so in character and sharp and will make you smile and shake your head and go "Oh, Jyn!" This collection of stories is idiots-in-love like nothing else and you will fall in love with the world Eli has so thoughtfully crafted for a modern-day RC.

objection, your honor by @andorerso

I'm not usually one for modern AUs, but this fic is just so much fun. The banter between Cass and Jyn is so in character and so sharp and witty and the whole time I was reading I had a grin on my face. (These two idiots.) I love all the little details Sissi considers in this AU (Chewie being the dog for example), but that's no surprise! She is the queen of AUs!

Tethered (to the Story We Must Tell) by @dilf-din

I just absolutely loved the setup for this fic. Jess manages to fit these characters into a magical world so seamlessly by embedding the most incredible details from the Star Wars universe. (I was obsessed with the "stormtroopers".) Jess's writing is so smooth and rich and will immediately grab your attention.

Coping Mechanisms by @mosylufanfic

I think this was the first fic I ever read of mosylu's! I love the way she writes Jyn--always perfectly in character, strong and sassy. But in this fic in particular, I love the softness she brings to Jyn in how she cares for Cassian. I found it to be a very beautiful, healing read. (But if you're looking for something a bit longer or more upbeat! I mean, take your pick. Mosylu is another author who is amazing at AUs and her works are always such fun reads.)

RC Proposal by @ninsletamain

I could have put any of nins' pieces down as a rec. (Like seriously go scroll her feed she's insanely talented and her work blows my mind everytime without fail). But I chose this one because it is just so rich and full of detail, I love the story it tells, and you cannot help but smile whenever you look at it.

Claw Machine by @winterdruid

Definitely an all-time favorite for me. I remember making a joke about claw-machine as a first date when I was doing a RO rewatch with some friends and then this masterpiece showed up on my feed and my jaw dropped?! It's so fun and cute and well-done and I reblog it every time I see it soooo.

Seashore (for RC Fluffbruary) by @adeptnenyim

I love the scenery, their poses, their expressions, the quote?! Ahhh all of it! Nen's art is so soft and special and gives me all the feels and this one is no exception.

BTS of RO Inspired by @art-question-mark

I have always loved the picture this piece is based off of. In my head, it is happy Jyn and Cass. In my head, it is canon. Natalie's style is so beautiful and I love some of the quotes Natalie pulls from the Rogue One novel to go with the art!

Pretty Cute by @muguathepapaya

This piece is super cute and exactly what they deserved. I'm obsessed. Gives me all the warm and fuzzies. Sunshine on a rainy day, so gorgeous.

Time to Wake Up by @eegnm

Okay are you noticing the theme yet? I love seeing these two happy, and this scene in particular is just so...warm. I love the cuddly vibes, their expressions, all of it. You can feel the love in it.

losers by @necr0mancers

I am obsessed with the look they are exchanging. Very conspiratorial and so true to them. I also just love the style of this artists' works and the sense of humor woven through many of their pieces.

Elevator Scene by @satmolly

Nope I actually do not have words for this one. I think it says enough. (This happened, and it happened just like this and it is so very beautiful).

Favorite Scene (beach) by @dramaticmusicplaying

Another one that leaves me speechless. (Okay, they ALL do I feel like I am not doing these artists justice I'M SORRY). I just think this piece captures the beach perfectly and I love the style and all the colors and I kinda need to cry after looking at it okay?!

Jyn/Cassian Smooch by @barrikae

I am totally obsessed with this artist's style and this image in particular is just: ahhhhh! You know? Like look at themmmmm. Thank you for this barrikae.

Space Travel by @freebooter4ever

Your honor, they are holding hands and they are so very sleepy and I am so very in love with this piece. I love the artist's style and again, amazing scene set. Lives rent free in my mind.

Tagging creators for this one vs specific sets (cause you CANNOT make me choose honestly) and linking this post I wrote awhile back about how incredible I think you all are! (As in: I specifically had RC creators in mind when I wrote that post.)

*This is the list I am most nervous about cause I am almost certain I am forgetting people so if you see this and you make gifs for RC please know I love you and your work <3

@bartowskis

@staticwaffles

@jyndor

@andorerso

@jemmasimmons

@sydneyadmu

@garethsedwards

@gizkalord

@kalikoris

@dailyrebelcaptain

@therebelcaptainnetwork

#dailyrebelcaptain #drcvalentinescelebration #rebelcaptain recs #and yup! im late with this 😅 it took me probably 6 hours to pull this together and i think i could have spent 6 hours more but #my wrist is starting to give me grief unfortunately #so here goes nothing #(i am super nervous to post this for some reason!)#3..2..1..go

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adaptacy · 8 months

Note

You mind writing a little Johnny Slaughter thing where the reader is southern, too? Not from Texas, but maybe from a whole nother state like Louisiana or Mississippi. Like, *really* southern- thick drawl, sassy attitude n everything. If it's not too much to ask, could the reader first start out as a victim? But the thing is, they're not really one to mess with. They're witty, quick, and honestly a bit of an asshole. They're worried about themselves- going as far as to sacrifice the other survivors to ensure their own survival. Maybe even off one themselves, quickly realizing that they like killing just as much as the rest of the family. Love ur work! (Also, have you heard about the new Nancy leaks? I'm so excited to see her, you have no idea.)

OMG OFC WAIT THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!!

i love requests ongogngrij

also YES!! I love her so much!! i saw someone (i think it was creepling's post) about what Nancy would think about johnny getting a soft spot for someone and oh god the brain juice started flowing with that. i think her and johnny will def be my mains bcs ive been dying for another female family member that isnt sissy (no hate to sissy, but i tried her and she just wasnt as fun as johnny)

anyways anyways anyways, here you go! this is gonna be fluff, but if you want an nsfw part lmk and i can make that work ;) <333 hope you enjoy!!

this is gonna be kinda cheesy and cute aside from the death (whoops) but if i do an nsfw it'll be more serious. i just thought this would be a good opportunity to write a jaw-dropped johnny who's like "oh shit i think im in love"

"The hell you wantin' now?!" You snarled, cracking your neck as you squared off with a man nearly twice your size. He was used to this kind of fighting back, but there was something about your volume, your genuine anger that was new to him. It was intriguing. He almost wanted to study your brain before he ate it.

"All that, and you still got caught, sweetpea. Ain't that quite the case of karma?" Johnny chuckled, casually spinning his blade in his hand. Beneath his feet was a brunette boy, far too bloodied to be anywhere near alive. You didn't know him, didn't care about him, and you were far more concerned with your own well-being than the safety of some stranger.

"Don't tell me yer gettin' cocky now, pretty boy?" You laughed. You'd wrestled unruly gators twice his size, you could manage this egotistical megalomaniac. Hell, you didn't win a championship in bull-riding for sweet talking it.

"Ain't you a little too pretty to be talkin' so much?" Johnny pouted, sulking closer with his head tilted.

"Ain't you a little too muscular to be flirtin' with yer food?" You rolled your eyes, gripping the kitchen knife tighter in your hand. He'd been so preoccupied with the random teenagers to keep an eye on you, exactly as you'd planned. While they were playing duck duck goose in the rickety basement, you'd been granted easy access to the family house. And with it, the kitchen. And with that, the knives.

Your knife was much larger than his, and it made up for the size difference between your bodies. You knew for a fact he was underestimating you, most people did. They thought you were all bark and no bite, but your bark was only really half your bite.

"I've made pie with apples mer fearsome than you," you teased. The man furrowed his eyebrows, seeming a little stung by your remark.

"The hell you from, anyways?" He shook his head, still not letting his guard down, but he seemed to be a little less on the offense.

"Louisiana, born 'n raised. Ain't you able to tell? Or you too dumb for that?"

"Drop the damn knife," Johnny demanded, and you couldn't help but laugh. Literally laugh. Not just giggle, not just chuckle, not just scoff- full-on laugh at his attempt.

"Or what? You gon' stab me with that there lil butterfly blade?" You mused, waving a hand in the air. "I'd like to see you try," you added, your tone a little lower.

Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but there was a voice from behind him, instead. "You-- You killed them! You killed all of them!" A female yelled, sounding hurt and angry. Both of you paused your bickering to turn towards an angry girl, a small pointy bone in her hand. "You killed my sister!"

Johnny scoffed, looking the girl up and down. You eased up as well, watching the interaction. "Ain't you see we was talkin'? Could'a waited your darn turn, missy," you grumbled, finding the interruption rather rude. The girl turned to you, her eyes wide.

"You-- You're that bitch at the bar! You gave my friend a concussion!" She accused, and you scoffed.

"Now, I would neva-- Oh, oh, she's yer friend? Well ain't that right rich! Small world, ain't it?" You laughed, reminiscing on the bar fight you'd gotten into after some city boy claimed he could take more rye whiskey than you. You were practically raised- hell, made out of whiskey. You had to show him up, obviously. It wasn't your fault his little girlfriend couldn't handle him losing.

It seemed as if the girl couldn't choose between who to attack, but when she finally did make up her mind, you found yourself in the hot seat. You assumed it was because she was more confident taking down you than she was taking down the man, but it was merely another case of underestimation. She swung the bone shiv towards you, and although Johnny stepped forward to do something, you had it handled.

You were the last woman who needed a man to rescue her. 'Specially against a pipsqueak like this chick was. As she rushed forward, you drove the kitchen knife directly into the girls gut. You weren't sure what possessed her to make such a foolish move as to charge at a woman with a knife, but it made for an easy means of defense. The brunette gurgled as blood splattered onto your mouth, hitting your cheek as she fell over your arm, eventually collapsing.

You twisted the knife out of the girls gut, reaching up and wiping the blood off of your cheek-- or, trying to, anyways, but you only really managed to smear it on your face. You scoffed in irritation, wiping the blood off on your shirt, and doing the same with the knife. After all, you didn't want to risk damaging the blade from the blood. It seemed like a good quality vegetable slicer.

With a simple clearing of your throat, you shook the girl off of your leg, looking back at your opponent. He was frozen in place, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Now, where was we at? Them city girls just ain't got no manners. Momma neva raised 'em right," you complained, giving the kitchen knife a once-over before looking back at Johnny.

He blinked, remaining silent.

"You still home, or you gone out to get groceries?" You frowned, confused as to why he wasn't responding. You snapped your fingers and swung your weight onto one leg, placing your free hand on your hip. "Mister muscles? You missin' yer brain?"

"Who are you?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I was merely defendin' myself. Ain't nuthin' special 'bout it. Now, where's we at? You still wanna go, pretty boy?"

Johnny licked his lips, pulling his head back. He tucked his knife into his pocket, and a small smile spread over his face. "You wanna go out sometime?"

"Kidnappin' and threatenin' a woman ain't no way to get 'em in yer bed," you scolded, tilting your head. "I know yer mama's taught you better'n that. Ain't she?"

"You like rye whiskey?"

You smirked. "That's more like it. Count me in."

#johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter fluff #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter headcanons #tcm #tcm game #johnny slaughter x southern reader #reader is a girlboss #reader dont need no man #shes still gon get one tho #thank you anon #this was so fun to write #adapting to johnny slaughter

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