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fanficbarbie · 8 months

Note

Smoking 🍃 with vinnie smut cause he’s so pookie bear (make it rough too please 💀💀)

❝FMB❞ - vinnie hacker x reader

─⋆♡ an: based on this ask. FMB means f⋆ck me back. hopefully it's rough enough. this is my first smut post so i didn't want to make it too too rough, just fyi. unedited so ignore any mistakes. i hope yall enjoy. ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

─⋆♡ summary: you and vinnie have a complex relationship. it all comes to a head when you become bold enough to confront him post-blunt.

─⋆♡ warnings: overstimulation, softdom!vinnie, smut, fluff towards the end, tiny bit of angst, 18+ black!writer, language, alcohol, drugs, D!NC, physical descriptors (brief), choking, spitting, slight exhibitionism if you squint, claiming, rough smut, squirting, anal play, unprotected sex (i do not condone irl, wrap before you tap).

⋆word count: 3.9k ⋆ vinnie hacker masterlist ⋆

The loud bass of music floats in the background as I tap through Snapchat stories on my phone. The couch next to me dips and when I turn, I see Vinnie has joined me.

He doesn’t speak to me before pulling out a blunt and sparking it. As is, me and Vinnie’s relationship was complicated. We started off as friends, then smoke buddies. But the more we smoked together, the more we felt for each other. Or at least, I fell for him.

We had kissed and made out, but we’ve never had sex. After a few dates, I was becoming restless. The frustration of his mixed signals got the best of me. Now in the darkness of the crowded room, I’ve become bold enough to confront him.

I watch him as he inhales and exhales the smoke like a chimney. He seemingly notices my intense stare and stops. “Did you need something?” he asks with an attitude.

You can practically feel steam whistling out of your ears from how fuming your brain is right now. “Yeah actually. Give that to me,” I snap, pointing at his blunt.

He shrugs, ashing the blunt on the coffee table. “Okay,” he concedes, passing me the joint.

Letting the smoke dance in my lungs, I choke it out slowly. Now that the weed is hitting, I decide now is the time. “Vinnie, are you still interested in me?” I ask him abruptly.

He chuckles and takes the blunt from me. “Oh, baby. Of course I fucking am. Why would you even ask me that?” he shoots back with an eyebrow raised.

Frowning, I pick at my cuticles out of nervousness. “Because we go on dates, we kiss, but we’ve never had sex. I just don’t know what you want any more,” I confess, standing from the couch in a huff.

Of course, I want to take things further. But I’m not sure if he wants me anymore when he barely touches me.

He stops me from moving any further, tugging my hand. I grudgingly turn around, looking down at him. “Because, doll. We haven’t had the sex talk yet,” he discloses, rubbing his free hand up and down my thigh.

I roll my eyes and scoff, snatching the blunt out of his hands to take a hit. He places his hands on my hips, watching me intensely. “What do you mean by ‘sex talk’? I’m not 5,” I ask after blowing out a toke.

He stands until he’s staggering high towers over me. “I mean…” he pushes lightly, backing me into the wall so I’m trapped between his body and the drywall. “I want to know what you like, what you don’t like, and what you’ll beg for before I feel you cumming on my cock,” he whispers in my ear, licking a stripe up my neck afterward.

My head tips back in a moan, which makes him as hard as a rock. “Fuck, baby. Do you see what you do to me? I want nothing more than to make you feel good, in the best way that I can, for the rest of my life.” he presses his body into mine, slowly kissing up my neck.

One of the partiers comes up behind Vinnie and taps him on the shoulder. He ignores them, waving them off with the rest of the blunt. His hand moves to the inside of my thigh and he rubs me so close that I know he can feel the inside of my legs shake. “Should I take care of you right here?” he bites my neck, and I whimper, pulling his hair.

Vinnie pulls back from me, piercing a hole into my eyes. “Please?” I beg, gnawing on my lip.

He uses the other hand and wraps it around my throat, effectively restricting my breathing. He tilts my head to the side. “Do you think you deserve it?” he whispers against my lips with his eyebrow raised.

Struggling, I lightly nod my head in his firm grip. “Yes, Vinnie,” I squeak out, and he gives me one last squeeze on the throat before grabbing my wrist and yanking me through the crowd.

Bodies brush past me as Vinnie drags me up the steps to his room. “Wait, where are we going?” I ask, confused. He just asked if I needed to be taken care of right there and then... I did say yes.

“You think I’m gonna let everyone watch me fuck you?” he scoffs.

Once we got the sex talk out of the way, Vinnie makes quick work to get me undressed. I moan into the darkness of the room as Vinnie leaves love bites down my neck, only breaking the contact to lift my tank top over my head. He pauses his movements to take in the black lacy bralette I'm wearing. “Fuck, baby. You don’t know what you do to me,” he groans, then smashes his lips back onto mine.

He slams me against his closed bedroom door before slowly dropping down onto his knees. Watching him sink to the ground has an involuntary giggle leaving my lips. “Vinnie, I didn’t think you were going to actually-” he cuts me off, spinning me around so my ass is facing him.

Suddenly, an echoing smack verberates off the walls and my ass cheeks are on fire. Yelping, I sink my teeth into my bottom lips, trying to muffle the noise I’m making.

He slowly inches his hands up my legs until my skirt is fully pushed up to my stomach. His fingers meet my panties, and he runs my fingers over them, seemingly savoring every last moment. “Did you wear these for me, sunshine?” He hooks one finger under one side, pulling it back and making the elastic snap around my hips.

I reach out to support myself on anything to keep my knees from buckling. “No,” I joke, and he bends my knees a bit.

He rubs calming circles into the back of my thighs with his thumbs. “Don’t need you collapsing on my baby,” he informs me.

Taking both sides in his hands, he rips the fabric in half and shreds it off my body like paper. “Shame. I would’ve let you keep them.”

Gasping, I look down and watch them fall to the ground. He palms my ass, spreading my cheeks further apart. “Bend over just a little bit more, baby,” he instruct, kissing my ass on both sides.

Slowly shifting in his grasp, I whine as I bend over. I’m desperate for him, all over me. Filling every hole over and over again until I’m screaming for help.

He hovers his mouth over my pussy. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he praises me, running his pointer finger up and down my folds to collect my wetness.

“Let me tell you something, sunshine,” he grumbles, rubbing his fingers in circles on my puffy, swollen nub. “There's absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Do you understand?” he looks up at me, awaiting my response.

Unable to focus, I just nod my head.

“You have to use your words, baby.” he instantly retracts his fingers from my clit bringing them into his mouth. With a pop, he pulls them out, moaning at the taste of my arousal.

I groan, throwing my head back in frustration. “Yes, I know. Just please take care of me, Vinnie,” I practically beg for the second time tonight.

He returns his fingers to my pussy, slowly rubbing around my entrance. “If you asked me to shoot myself, I would,” he growls, slowly sinking his fingers into me. Curling them downwards on every thrust, his fingers search for that spongy spot. He pulls out and thrusts into me again, and my breath quickens. “If you asked me to slit my wrists, I would.” Quickening his pace, my moans echo through the large bedroom. “You gotta stay quiet, baby. I wanna be the only one to hear those pretty moans.”

He uses his free hand, bringing it up to my clit, rubbing fast circles on my sensitive bud. His fingers are thrusting into me at such an intense rate that I feel the world collapsing beneath me. My pussy contracts around his fingers and he groans deeply, sending a shiver up my spine. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, sunshine,” he commands, hitting my sweet spot.

I mewl, obeying his commands, and begin rocking back into him. My orgasm starts approaching rapidly, his fingers drive into me at an unrelenting pace. When my walls flutter, he instantly slows his pace. “Not yet, baby. You can’t cum until you’re quiet.”

Crying again, I bring my hand up to muffle the sound successfully. He applies more pressure on the quick circles he’s drawing on my clit. I arch my back again until I’m moving with his fingers just as he requested. I moan loudly, the coil in my stomach about to snap.

He blows a quick shot of air onto my exposed clit, the chill making the coil snap. My vision turns white as I quietly moan out, "Fuck, Vinn.”

“That’s it, sunshine. Cum for me, let go,” he murmurs underneath me, and I can feel the lust dripping off his tongue as my orgasm rocks through me. The pace of his fingers doesn’t slow as he works me through my orgasm, and I hear my nails scratch against the drywall. My legs quake and my back arches slightly, my mouth opening in a silent moan.

He slows his thrusting and pulls out of me, rising to his feet. He turns me around to face him, his eyes taking in the fucked out expression on my face. “You wanna know how good you taste, baby?” Grabbing my chin, he rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath and lean back into the wall. “Yes,” I whisper, and as soon as the words leave my lips, his fingers sink into my mouth. Deciding to tease him, I swirl my tongue around his digits, imagining my tongue on his cock. His fingers push back further into my throat until I gag a little, then he pulls them out. Fucking hope he’s impressed that I can take them that far without coughing.

Without another thought, I smash my lips against his, savoring the taste of my orgasm on his tongue. “God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat you forever,” he growls, moving my body back onto the bed.

He crawls on top of me and his bulge is pressed into me once again. “Vinnie, please. I need you.” I whimper into his mouth as my shaky fingers move to slowly unbutton his shirt.

But he grabs my wrists, stopping me. “I got it, sunshine,” he laughs, then makes quick work to remove his shirt.

I shamelessly watch as he slowly strips out of his pants and his boxers. Even though I’ve seen him naked in front of me before, he’s never fully been hard. His dick is beautiful. His swollen head is already dripping with precum, making him look good enough to deep throat.

Vinnie slowly climbs back onto the bed and my eyes widen, realizing what’s about to happen. My breathing quickens in anticipation as he comes down to kiss me hard and deep.

I moan into him, but my hands move to his chest to push him back as I look down, suddenly scared. “It’s too big, I don’t think it’ll fit,” I insist, crawling away from him.

He grabs my ankles, pulling me back down. “We’re gonna make it fit, baby,” he retorts, his eyes dark.

The tip of his dick moves back and forth in between my folds, collecting wetness. I whimper, squeezing his shoulders.

“Hey, sunshine. Look at me.” He grabs my chin until I make eye contact with him. “We can stop if you want to stop. I won't go any further,” he reassures, resting his forehead on mine.

I immediately shake my head, inhaling a sharp breath. “No, I want this–I want you. Just be careful, please.” I pull him into me for a heated kiss and tug his hair, making him groan and deepen the kiss.

Finally, he pulls back and lines himself up near my entrance, spitting and letting the dribble collect on his base. “This is gonna hurt, so just relax for me, baby.” My legs are pushed open a little wider.

I nod, trying to calm myself, and he laces his fingers in mine before he moves. The tip of his shaft pushes in, and I gasp at the stretch. “Shit, Vinnie,” I cry out, squeezing his hands until my knuckles turn white. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, the burn from his girth sends fire into my core.

Immediately, he stops moving, looking into my eyes. “Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop,” he groans out.

I bite my lip, shaking my head no.

He kisses the corner of my eyes and whispers, “Okay, just relax for me, sunshine. I’ll try to make this quick.” He continues to sink slowly into me, bottoming out, and I wince again. To allow me to adjust to his length, he pauses his movements. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Fuck, I’m not gonna last long,” he breathes, bending down to kiss my neck. And then, he slowly starts rocking into me and the burn is replaced with a familiar warmth.

“Oh, god. Vinnie,” I moan, releasing his hands to claw at his back for support.

He’s hitting the perfect spot already, and he just got inside me. He continues to slowly push in and out of me, allowing me to savor the feeling of him inside me. I moan, biting on his shoulder.

“More.” My legs are already shaking. “Give me more,” I demand, kissing up to his ear.

Pulling back, he looks at me. “Are you sure?” His hand strokes my curls.

I pull him down into a kiss, allowing my tongue to explore his mouth once more. “Yes, please. Use me, fuck me,” I beg, squirming underneath him.

Vinnie fists the sheets below my head and adjusts his position. I brace myself. “The safe word is ‘moon’, Sunshine. Use it if you need it.” He kisses my neck once more and begins driving into me at a steady, even rate. The tip of his length kisses my g-spot with each stroke. “Fuccckkkk,” he growls into my ear, and I feel myself squeezing him when the words hit my eardrums.

“Vinnie,” I moan.

The only sound outside of our pants and moans is the sound of his skin slapping against mine as he fucks me. He wraps his tattooed hand around my throat, leaning in for a kiss. And as if I wasn't already in heaven, he brings his fingers down to rub quick circles on my clit.

“I’m gonna cum, doll. But I need to feel you squeezing me before I do,” he commands, and I cry as I arch into him.

He pounds into me steadily, rocking my body into the bed. Each stroke pushes me closer and closer over the edge until I feel myself contracting around him.

“Cum with me, sunshine,” he whispers against my lips, and it sends me over the edge.

Arching my back and screaming, I claw at his back and bite his shoulder as my orgasm hits me like a train. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he lifts my hips slightly.

“Where do you want me to cum, love?” His dick kisses my cervix, and I know I’ll be bruised tomorrow. But I can’t bring myself to give a shit right now.

He twitches inside me, and I lick a stripe up his neck. “Cum in me, Vinnie,” I whimper, and he growls into my neck.

His seed spills inside me, his strokes becoming uneven. I moan at the feeling, and squeeze around him, milking out every drop of his cum as he paints my walls. It fills me up and I’ve never felt better after sex.

He stills inside me, kissing me breathlessly, and takes a few moments to catch his breath. Before he pulls out, I wrap my arms around him, causing him to bury further inside me. “Stay,” I plead, tears threatening to spill over in my eyes.

He softly strokes my hair, wrapping his arm around me and slowly flipping us over so I’m on top. “Okay, sunshine. I got you. Fuck, that was the fastest I’ve ever cum before in my life,”

Like I requested, he doesn’t pull out. Just pulls me closer into his body until I’m melting into the beautiful tattoos on his chest. His fingers begin tracing light patterns across my back.

I sniffle, looking up at him with a small smile on my face, and he looks at me. “You okay, sunshine?” he asks, and I shift on his length a little bit.

Sitting up to put my hands on his chest, I feel his dick twitching and growing inside me. “Yeah. Let's go again,” I giggle, bending down to kiss him. It surprises me how he’s already ready for round two, but I don’t complain.

He groans into my mouth, wrapping his decorated arms around my waist. Slowly, I lift myself until I feel his tip threatening to slip out. I slide back down onto him, filling myself completely and moaning at the change of position.

His hands tighten around my waist, helping me swirl my hips around. “I want you to know you’re mine, sunshine,” he groans, reaching up to play with my nipples as I moan at the feeling of him stretching me from this angle.

I pick up my pace, bouncing on his dick until he’s hitting my perfect spot over and over again. My legs shake, and I feel my third orgasm approaching rapidly. My hand moves to his neck, squeezing it hard. I feel so fucking powerful, making myself cum with his length.

Vinnie looks up at me with amazement in his eyes and slides his thumb in between us to apply pressure on my clit. I throw my head back and moan, still choking him. “God. You look so pretty when you moan.”

The pace of his thumb quickens, and I topple over the edge, crashing into my third orgasm with a loud cry. I release my hand on his neck, falling forward. Vinnie removes his hand from my clit to catch me and keep from coming down on his body. He allows me to rest on his chest as he starts to fuck up into me, elongating my orgasm.

“Vinnie,” I choke out, and my voice bounces off his walls.

He picks up his pace, driving into me from below. “That’s it, doll. Scream my name. Let the world know who fucking owns you.”

He pounds my body into his, and I grip his shoulders when I feel a tingling sensation on my clit. Wetness suddenly shoots out from between my legs, running down my thighs and covering his stomach. My whole body quakes, but he doesn’t slow down.

“Fuck, sunshine. Look at the mess you made, cumming all over me.”

My brain is on a different planet as he slows down, allowing me to glance down at the soaked sheets. He slowly pulls me off him and I wince, falling backward onto the bed. Then, Vinnie moves me so I’m laying on my side, out of the wet spot, before slowly pushing back into me, spooning me, and caressing my hair. “No one will ever fuck you ever again, for the rest of your life but me. Do you understand?”

Slamming into me at an unrelenting pace, he bites my neck. His hand wraps around my throat, applying a bit of pressure. Every thrust sends me closer to the edge, and the only thing I register is him kissing the back of my neck. I’m so fucked, I can’t speak. I can’t think.

“Yes,” I babble out, arching my back into him.

All I feel is pure bliss. The room is spinning, and I feel another orgasm rapidly approaching. He nibbles a love bite into my neck, hitting my G-spot over and over again. My thighs are lifted a little higher until I see white. “Cum for me again, Sunshine. You feel so good when you squeeze me,” he mumbles into my neck.

I shake my head, and gripping his forearm that chokes me. “I can’t,” I cry, looking at the view from his room— everything is spinning.

Vinnie increases his pace, slamming into me. “You can, and you will,” he snarls in my ear.

I feel the tears spilling over in my eyes as he applies more pressure on my throat. The overstimulation of his dick drilling into me repeatedly sends me toppling over another edge, and I wail his name, feeling my soul leave my body. Everything feels fuzzy as his thrusts become sloppy before he lets out an animalistic grunt. I feel his dick twitch, then, shooting hot ropes into me. The heat of it makes me feel like I’m going to pass out, and I moan at the sensation. He continues to slowly thrust into me, riding out both of our orgasms.

After we’re both spent, he buries himself deep inside me, stroking my hair and peppering kisses on my shoulder as I come down from my high. “You did so well for me, Sunshine. Fucking fantastic,” he praises.

He slowly caresses my hips as my body shakes against his. I wince as he slowly pulls out and scoots down to the bottom of the bed. Spreading my legs wide open, he watches our cum leak out of me. My swollen pussy contracts around nothing, pushing his seed out, and I hear him groan.

He brings his fingers up to my entrance and I wince. “Shhh, Sunshine, I’m just making sure we don’t waste a drop,” he coos, stuffing his fingers into me and massaging my g-spot.

An inevitable moan leaves my lips I arch my back to get closer to him. “You want to cum again?” He asks before leaning over to flick his tongue over her my. Crying out at the overstimulation, I shake my head.

“Too bad, baby.” he quickly thrusts into me with his fingers, moaning at the taste of our orgasms mixing. His tongue flicks over my swollen, puffy clit. I haven’t used our safe word, and I know he’s going to keep pushing me until I say it.

Vinnie removes his tongue from my clit and he uses his other hand to collect our orgasms on his finger. The pace of his fingers slows and he begins rubbing a circle around my tight hole. He slowly pushes his finger into my ass, fucking me with both hands.

I’m unable to control my movements as I thrash underneath him. His finders drive in and out, reaching the most delicious spot.

“Give me one last one, Sunshine. I promise I’ll let you stop after,” he orders, and I move my hands to his hair to tug on it.

He pushes his finger further into my ass, curling it a bit more, and I snap. Neglecting his noise warning, my screams and my moans erupt through the room. He moans as he works both of my holes through what I assume is my last orgasm.

As finally comes down, I whimper, “Moon,” and he stops and slowly pulls his fingers out, satisfied with my overstimulation.

He crawls up my body, grabbing my face so I'm forced to look at him. “You're everything to me–perfect and mine,” he mumbles into my mouth and I wipe away the tears in my eyes.

My brain buzzes with post-sex high. “Only for you,” I whisper into the night.

I did so well, and I am his.

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infernalodie · 11 months

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𝐋𝐈𝐄 || 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧

“𝘐 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳�� 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯“

Inspo: Ruel - Lie Giveon - Lie Again

Pairing: Jules Vaughn x Black!Male!reader

Summary: A lie would be enough to ease the pain...

Warnings: Angst and more angst

Words: 3364

It was a breath held under the surface of the water. You could keep it for only so long before your chest heaved for oxygen. And eventually, you would have to come back up, gasping to feel the weight in your chest lessen. Judging by the look in her eyes, you could see she was fighting to stay underneath with you, wanting to savour the peace and warmth still able to be offered to her. Hoping to find the focus to hold on a little longer. She wasn’t dying, but its slow absorption of willpower was killing her. And you didn’t want to take any more days from her when she deserved so much more.

“I-I don’t want to keep you from being happy, Jules,” you whispered, fingers fiddling together. The itchiness on the inside of your nose made you aware of the tears blossoming along the brim of your eyes. “And I know I’m not who you want anymore.” Forcing a smile, you looked up at the girl. Tears slipped down your cheeks that were reddened. “But I-I understand. I won’t keep you away from living your life. I’m just happy I got to know you and be called ‘yours’.”

Jules didn’t know if it was the softness of your work cracking or her own heart hating to believe that she’d fallen out of love, but she couldn’t hold back the tears. Her lips begin to tremble, walking toward you and her hands cupping your cheeks.

She wanted to hold you forever and make you forget that this was happening, but she knew that you were smart enough to know that if she said anything else to keep you here, it would be a lie. She would be saving herself from the guilt of a lie that the two of you have been too scared to acknowledge for the past two months. Now, it was meeting the head and there was nothing else that could be done besides admitting there wasn’t much left here to salvage. And Jules hated admitting it, but she was the cause of this.

Every day you tried to make it better than the last. Maybe it was only now you were realizing it was just wasted energy. She’d made you put up with her distance for the last two months and made you think this was your fault.

But you thought that was the case. How couldn’t you when you had planned your life around things the two of you talked about? Making promises that were too good to be true. Moving to a small town to pursue something that could become forever. Or to just seek a better education before looking at NYU and seeing if it was in the cards for the two of you. The speed of plans you had come up with might’ve become too overwhelming for her and it might’ve made her interest in keeping something like that deteriorate into flakes of ash.

So, you had to allow her to go on and you had to accept that living this lie wasn’t going to save you from the loneliness you thought could be cleansed.

Your cold skin in contrast to her warm touch makes you shiver under her hold. Stepping closer, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you could. But you knew the sooner you left, the easier it would be to move on.

So, with a shaky breath, you grabbed her hands and pulled them from your face. “I let you go, honey.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you felt your bottom lip quiver, sniffling. “Goodbye, Jules.” You spoke with just above a whisper and were gone before Jules had a chance to apologize for the pain she placed on you.

The mornings were as normal as they could get for you. Sun peaking through the cracks of blinds, warming your ebony skin that had a cool layer that developed overnight. The bland smell of your own body odour and the chill of loneliness.

You fucking hated it.

Nothing eventful came from your mornings. Living in an apartment alone with enough open space to house a roommate kinda left more to be desired than you had once believed. But by the time you moved to East Highland, the place was already locked in and you had to live out your lease until you could look for a smaller place in the same complex. Maybe a few floors above and along the edge of the building. Preferably with a balcony so you could stare out at the stars and sleep outside. That would be nice.

You grabbed a yogurt cup from your empty fridge and sat on your bed. Humming at the taste of vanilla replenishes your energy. You got dressed and grab your phone, bookbag, lanyard, and water bottle. Locking the door of your apartment before making your way downstairs. Taking the tedious and mundane stairwell instead of the elevator that seemed to be on the brink of breaking at any moment.

It’d been nearly a year since you moved to East Highland. Moving wasn’t too difficult with the lack of belongings pledged your name of investment. Bringing only a suitcase, a dresser, a bed, one of each utensil, and plastic plates. It was enough for you

“What’s up, buddy?” Rue greeted, squinting under the glow of the sun. “I thought you slept in. I was tempted to break in and steal your fridge.”

“Why just my fridge?” You laughed, turning your head toward the other girl, smiling softly. “Also, hi Gia.”

The neglected girl smiled, giving you a friendly wave as you fiddled with the many keys on your lanyard. “Rough morning?” She asked, tilting her head as she leaned against the side of your Toyota Corolla.

“Uh, I-I guess you could say that.” You shrugged half-heartedly, forcing a smile. “But it’s a bit better with your hoe of a sister now here and you to keep her in line.”

Gia smiled, but Rue flipped your off. “Listen here you a little bottom bitch-!” Rue laughed, pointing at you.

Moving here and making friends wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would’ve been. And honestly, you jumped between groups in your class each day. Sometimes you hung out with the science geeks who made you explore your way of thinking. Then you hung out with Rue which always ended with fucking around during lunch. Lexi, Kat, Cassie, and Maddy were another group that welcomed you.

But it felt odd to have friends when you still felt so alone. Maybe it was because you knew the moment you dropped Rue and Gia off, you wouldn’t be spending any more time with anyone. You would end up sitting in your room on your phone, watching sitcoms, giggling to yourself, playing with your guitar, and smoking weed from your fire escape. And you wished you could say that you got used to the silence but there was a level of inconsistency of enjoyment with being alone.

So, you lied your way through the days and nights. Hoping that if you ignored the truth of reality things might get better. But you knew better. Holding onto something as such was fruitless in the grand scheme of things.

Driving to school, you sat silently as the two sisters blasted music out of the speakers. The sheer volume of the base made your brain rattle. But their presence was enough to bring you hope that the day might go well.

Arriving at school, you locked your car before falling the pair. Bidding Gia farewell as she jogged over to her friends, leaving you and Rue to walk in the direction of the sophomore end of the school.

“What’d I miss the past two days?” You asked, shoving your keys in your pocket, and turning your head toward your friend.

“Oh, I thought you weren’t interested after abandoning me,” Rue teased, flicking your chin. “But it’s the same as last year. We got a test in 2 weeks for Algebra, so I hope you are still smart as you were before the summer.”

She poked your forehead, making you groan, slapping her hand away. “Work offered extra hours and I need the money,” you defended. “I’m sure Principle Hayes will understand if he calls me down.”

The two of you arrived at your guys’ lockers, putting away your belongings and grabbing your needed books. “Well, I met someone at that party I think McKay hosted.”

“Finally gonna get your pussy wet?” You quipped, earning a flick of your ear.

“Nah, man. I wanna get to know her better, you know?” She said. “Her whole aesthetic is right up my alley.”

You hummed. “Well, it sounds like you’re already head over heels for her-”

“Oh, she’s right there.” Rue waved her hand enthusiastically. “Jules!”

You choked on your spit, eyes snapping in the direction that you saw the familiar flow of blonde hair just down the hall. The same ol’ abstract makeup and bright-coloured clothes that made her stand out. She looked older now. Maybe a bit more mature. You couldn’t be quite sure, but she was still beautiful.

But that’s when the questions started appearing in your head like the sight of flashing headlights. Why is she here? When did she get here? Did she even know this was the place you were wanting to move to with her? Or did she come here on purpose?

No. No, no, no, that is just the innocence of your heart still linked to the memory of her. It’s hard to imagine it otherwise, but you knew this wasn’t purposeful. And judging by the shocked look on her face, you were right in your assessment.

Hard to believe that you cried over this girl. You missed her day in and day out since you gave her a chance to grow into who she wanted. But if you’d known she would’ve ended up coming back into your life, you might’ve been selfish and kept her close. Allow yourself to live in a false reality, which in return would be torture for Jules.

It was just too much for you to even have on your mind. Leaving you to back away, brows pinching together as you turned heel and ran in the direction of the front doors. Not daring to meet your ex’s gaze once more.

And it led you driving all the way home with tenseness in your limbs. The faint twitch of anxiety, causes you to groan in aggravation. You were sat in what was supposed to be your living room. Only a piano, coffee table, and a bean bag resemble a relaxing area. A joint rested between your lips as you sat on the soft foam with your eyes closed. Chest rising and falling with an occasional stutter of an exhale, trying to suppress.

You didn’t want to cry over her. Jules didn’t deserve that. Although you love her, she didn’t deserve anything besides growth and your soft, yet, bittersweet exit in her life. If you were in a different universe, perhaps you might be open to the idea of her reentering your life. Maybe even giving the relationship one last try.

But after months of heartbreak and self-acceptance of the truth, you couldn’t do it again. It wasn’t fair to yourself and it wasn’t fair to her when you knew that you still felt things for her. All that would come from the two of you being close is you reliving those feelings and putting Jules in a situation that wouldn’t be beneficial for either of you. So, you needed to find something or do something that could definitively cancel it out completely.

Yet, the sound of your doorbell made you snap up in alarm. Dropping your joint on your sweatpants, causing it to splash ash across your joggers. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You picked it up, taking one last puff before running to your bedroom. The doorbell rang again. “Yea’, give me a moment!” You tossed the joint out the window, exhaling the cloud before slamming the window shut and jogging to the front door.

Undoing the handle lock, you pulled the door open as far as the latch allowed it. Peeking out carefully to see Jules. You wanted to slam the door and stop there any chance of the two of you interacting. But she saw you before you could decide, smiling faintly.

“Hey.” Her greeting was soft and almost incomplete by the hesitation in her wavering tone.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you sniffled. “Rue told you where I live, huh?” You knew the answer to the question. Rue was willing to do anything for her friends, so you weren’t surprised she would help Jules. Especially since it wasn’t hard to tell by the way she talked about Jules that she liked her.

Jules chuckled quietly, nodding. You hummed, exhaling softly. “Why’re you here, Jules?” You questioned, straight to the point. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Can I come in?” Jules asked, staring up at you with those enchanting eyes that won you over all those years ago. It was hard to deny her request, with your feelings and all. So, you wordlessly closed the door and undid the latch before opening the door, welcoming her inside.

When she stepped through, she was quick to take in everything. From the lack of furniture to the seemingly sudden chill that filled the apartment, she stepped in. It was hard for her to realize that this was what would’ve been her place as well if she hadn’t been caught up in conflicting thoughts a year ago. But that was all over now. It hurt, but Jules knew she wasn’t allowed to talk or think about the “what if’s”. She did enough thinking when the two of you made promises about your shared futures.

And she knew she was going to have to live with that for the rest of her life.

“Now, answer my questions.” Jules turned around, finding you walking around the island and opening your fridge.

“I just want to tell you that me moving to East Highland wasn’t intentional, alright?” Jules defended. “If I’d known, I would go far away so I wouldn’t hurt you.”

It hurt, honestly. But you kept a neutral expression as you pulled out a beer, using the ring around your middle finger to pry the cap open. Sniffling, you looked up at Jules, a simple and easy look of offer that she accepted with a smile. Taking the beer and taking a sip as you grabbed one of your own.

Leaning against the counter, you quietly sipped your drink. The silence slowly built with the acknowledgement that this reunion was awkward. It was expected. But it didn’t make it any easier for the two of you to try and move around it.

“It isn’t much, but it was all I could fit into the cheapest U-Haul. And it’s not like I have a lot to my name,” you said, chuckling to yourself. The entire idea of moving out of the city was your parents and the school you and Jules had been going to was shit. But it had been your parents that made you decide that you needed to get the fuck out of there before you experienced anything more that could traumatize you. And Jules knew this and was in full support and ready to embark on this unknown path with her father’s backing. He had even been willing to get a place in the same area to be there if anything happened. “But I’ll probably aim to go somewhere else when this year is up. Save up as much as I can before I head out.”

“Where do you plan on going?” Jules questioned, hoisting herself onto the island opposite to you. You shrugged, looking down at your feet. The action was interrupted by Jules placing her foot at the center of your chest. It wasn’t purposeful, but your gaze instinctively ran up the smooth texture of her leg. All the way up to the bottom hem of her skirt gave you a faint peek of what more could be under your warm gaze. And then you finally met her gaze, which was delicate. “Answer me, Y/n.”

Those same old desires slowly rose to the surface, battling with how you wished to be now. You could kick her out. You could save yourself from making a mistake in this situation. You could just ignore it and try to move around the clear intentions of her actions.

“Why’re you ignoring me?” Her question took a few moments to register, but when they did you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat. Moving away just enough to make her foot drop.

“I don’t where I plan on going next,” you said, hoping that your explanation would make her forget the hold she had on you. “It all depends on the costs. I got enough money to support the trips, but it’s securing a place and 3 months' worth of rent. I guess it just depends on where life thinks I should go.”

Jules nodded, humming softly. “Is it also because of me? Is this a sudden decision now knowing I’m here?” She asked, placing her bottle down. Hopping down from the island as she continued. “Or is it because you still feel something toward me?”

“Jules, we can’t do this,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat. She placed her hands on your stomach, running over the ruts of your abs, humming in approval. She always loved your body. Your height, your structure, your ebony skin, your calloused hands, it was all something she missed near her. “Jules, we can’t-”

“Tell me a lie, Y/n,” she muttered, almost making you have to question her to repeat it. “Tell me that we’ll somehow work past our problems and that we’re supposed to be together.”

You couldn’t help the stinging of your nose appears. It felt like you were transported back to that day a year ago. Forced to relive the foul memory burnt into your brain leading to you to wonder what could’ve been done differently. How things might’ve turned out now and/or if you two would’ve lasted long enough after the move to East Highland.

So many futures are left unwritten because of someone’s heart committed to seeing them out. And you’d never blame it on her. The cards were dealt and she held them close, but there would have to be a time she played them. It just turns out that the order she played them left you discouraged to continue.

You weren’t vital to her anymore. Well, not like you used to be. Things were different now and as much as you’d like just cradle her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, it wouldn’t be right. You’d be lying to her and yourself. And ever since she left you, you’ve left no opening for anyone to get close like she once did. She was your last and only true picture of love and you didn’t want to take that picture out of the frame. So, you’d store it away in the back of your mind to never be touched but to be remembered as to why you would allow your heart to sit idle. Waiting to find the person that made it skip a beat.

But that fulfillment felt farther and farther each day. It’s once prestigious idolization you made in your head, now a mere hollow husk of disappointment.

Much like she had done that day, your hands cradled her face gently. Your eyes take in each defining feature and cherish it. Willing to die gratefully with the knowledge that she was the last person and only person to ever be yours.

So, you smiled. One of sorrow and regret. “Lying to you would be the last thing you deserve, Jules,” you whispered, making the girl whimper, eyes clamping shut. You felt your lips wobble, pulling the girl into your chest where you pressed a kiss to her head. “We were doomed from the start, honey.”

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specialinterestshows · 7 months

Text

Share a blunt and a conversation with Damian Priest in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), dirty talk

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 48 of ?): In The Hot Box

"Rhea sent you a dirty text, didn't she?" Damian smiles when he sees you looking flustered, exhaling a cloud of thick smoke before passing you the blunt.

"Not a dirty text, and it, uh, wasn't her," you reply, taking the blunt and inhaling hard. Damian raises an eyebrow.

"Someone else caught your eye?" he asks carefully, seeming unsure exactly how to react in light of this new information.

"Not really?" you say, exhaling and passing the blunt back, "I mean, she's nice and she's pretty, but compared to Rhea..." There was no comparison. Even Rhea's name rightly identified her as a goddess, and the chemistry between the two of you was like nothing else you had ever experienced.

"Is she pushing up on you?" Damian asked after a long drag.

The car was beginning to fill with smoke, made evident by the foggy line where most of it seemed to want to settle, highlighted by the sunlight filtering in behind you. Damian tapped the ash off the end of the blunt and onto an already-ashy part of your center console before licking his thumb and passing it along the side of the blunt that seemed to be burning faster before handing it to you.

"She's not not pushing up on me," you admit, taking a short puff before amending your statement with, "But I'm not interested. If she tries to make a move I'm shutting her down."

You take another quick hit before passing back the blunt, coughing a bit before asking Damian, "What about you? Anyone caught your eye?"

His face fell a bit at the question, looking away, taking a hit, and coughing before replying, "No one new" with melancholy in his voice.

"But someone?" you ask, watching him look out the window in the direction of the rest of the Judgment Day with longing in his eyes after handing back the blunt.

"Querer y tener son bastante diferentes," was all he said as you took another hit, deciding not to press him further.

Instead, you let your hit out as smoke rings, aiming them at Damian to lighten the mood. After a few, he notices and cracks a grin, moving dramatically like he's trying to fight them off and making you giggle. Flicking away the ash that had accumulated on the end of the blunt, you note there's only about a third left.

"Poor thing isn't long for this world," you say, passing it to Damian, "Did you want to save the rest?"

"Tapping out already?" he asks, taking a long drag as he gives you a smirk, "Thought Rhea said you were a stoner."

"I was just trying to be respectful of your supply!" you say defensively, "I can still smoke more!"

"En realidad?" Damian teases, bringing the blunt back up to his lips, "Because I can finish it all-"

"Puff puff pass," you huff, holding out your hand pointedly.

Damian smiles a bit wider before finally holding out the bud, laughing when you quickly snatch it from his hand. The moment you start inhaling, your phone buzzes again and you roll your eyes before opening your phone to tell Liv not to expect anything.

The name at the top of the screen makes you pause: "Mami". Blushing at the embarrassment of what might have happened had you not checked, you read the message before blushing harder: "Spending a lot of time in your car with the archer of infamy. If you let him knock his arrow on your bow without permission, Mami's going to have to punish you"

"That one was Rhea, wasn't it?" Damian asked after you bit your lip, "I'm telling her that you rolled your eyes."

"No no no, wait!" you lunge to hit the lock button for the passenger-side door when he moves to open it, "Please don't tell her that."

"Relax, chica!" he laughed, taking the blunt back, "I'm just messing around. What'd she say?"

"She, uh," you fumble a bit with your words, closing and hiding your phone, "she s-says we've, uh, been in here for a while..."

"That's all?" Damian asks before taking a hit, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"There may have been some... innuendo," you admit, no longer trying to maintain eye contact.

"She wants you to give Dom a chance?" he asked, a tone of understanding in his voice that made you think she may have mentioned something to him.

"None of your business," you say, snatching the last of the blunt from his hand and inhaling until the dryness of the smoke told you that you'd started burning the filter instead, making you let out the entire hit in a few sharp coughs, "Now let's get back to the group."

[end part forty-eight of ?]

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domlynch

#wwe fanfiction #the judgment day #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #damian priest #damian priest x reader #finn balor x damian priest #finn balor #finn balor x jd mcdonagh #jd mcdonagh #the judgement day #lady!reader #weed #specialinterestshows presents #absolute smokeshow

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bluestar22x · 7 months

Text

A Haunting In Jackson

A Haunting In Jackson - A "Visitation Rights" Short Fic (Absolutely can be read as a standalone fic)

Summary: A campfire story told by Tommy Miller leaves you spooked

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader; Miller family dynamics (includes Ellie)

Rating: 13+

Warnings: Just an eerie setting, reader being nervous, fluff and Miller family dynamics. Some swearing. A spooky ghost story told around a fire pit on Halloween night.

Word Count: 3,200 (ish)

Author's Note: For the Halloween writing challenge made by @pedrocontestsrus ; set after Visitation Rights and Morning Routine, but definitely can be read on its own if you're not interested in reading the other two. That's why I'm submitting it for the contest. It's a standalone in this fic verse. Happens 7 months after Morning Routine (for anyone who cares about the timeline).

Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night ⚡️

Must include: A lit candle, bare feet, a creaking sound

I keep visiting this Jackson verse, but I don't mind! Funny how Visitation Rights was basically just a spur of the moment fic.

xxx

Jackson, 2025

You hadn't watched a horror movie in over twenty years, but you remembered one that had an eerily similar scene setting to this. Thunder rumbling in the distance, lightning flashing, rain pelting against the roof, wind howling, blocking most sound out and causing the branches of the old ash tree behind the house to smack violently against a window in the spare bedroom that your boyfriend, Joel Miller, used as an office and workstation for his smaller projects.

You were padding cautiously down the short hallway to the stairs in the dark of night barefoot, you know, like any sane person who'd been startled awake by a loud thump, armed with nothing but a burning candle stick in your left hand. (The electricity had gone out right before you’d gone to bed that night and the stick was closer to you than a flashlight.)

Paranoid you was mentally bashing yourself for not waking Joel, letting him stay curled up in your shared bed, completely unaware that something might be going on. Joel might be half deaf, but he was a strong and capable fighter even at 58, and you could've used back up in the form of his broad frame, just in case.

Logical you however, had managed to convince yourself that whatever you'd heard couldn't be anything you couldn't handle on your own. You'd survived more than twenty years by yourself in a fungal apocalypse with nothing but dogs for company. Besides, it had to be nothing. A raccoon, if anything. Or a squirrel that managed to chew its way into the house. It couldn't be an intruder. This was Jackson after all. A small town filled with a community of proven trustworthy people and guarded by a fence and patrol twenty-four-seven. It was for that same reason that it couldn't be one of the infected. They never could get even close to the fence line, the Jackson patrol, which you and Joel were a part of, made sure of that.

And it definitely wasn't a ghost. It sounded stupid in your head even as you were denying it. Billions of people had died since outbreak day, most on that very night or during the following few weeks, and you'd never run into anything that suggested ghosts existed. If you couldn't find evidence for them after such a tragic and violent event, you figured there was nothing to find.

That somehow didn't stop you from being on edge anyway.

Damn you, Tommy, you cursed silently. Damn you for getting it into my head.

You'd always hated horror stories, ever since you'd been a little girl around a campfire, your friends swapping scary stories as tradition insisted. Your friends had fun with it, but you didn't, spending half the night lying awake in your sleeping bag, listening for any strange sounds, even though you were always camping out in the relative safety of each other's backyards.

You'd braved a few horror films here and there in your twenties, but only for dates with guys you were really interested in, and you always lived to regret it, spending hours on edge, looking over your shoulder just cause you felt like someone was watching you.

When your life had become a literal horror story, the infected one of the greatest nightmares ever seen in fiction and reality alike, you'd hardly slept for days. Most people probably hadn't, as they feared the infected attacking and tried to comprehend their massive losses, but you had especially not been equipped to cope with the fungal spread. It probably hadn't helped that you'd taken off alone, with only your black Labrador Raven to comfort you at night. But she'd been a lot better than nothing. A second set of ears that allowed you to sleep enough to remain sane.

So you were the least likely person to understand why Tommy was insisting on telling a scary story as if you were all back in middle school.

It was Halloween night, and while it wasn't an official holiday Jackson still celebrated (for obvious reasons), Tommy and Maria had still invited you, Joel, and Ellie over for a chicken dinner and a marathon movie watch of The Addams Family DVDs he'd found in a store the month before while out on a supply run. Popcorn was even included.

It was later followed by supper over the fire pit in their backyard, which consisted of beef sausage made from one of the cows recently slaughtered in town. Joel had showed Ellie how to cook one over a flame on a stick pulled from Tommy's tree line and sharpened by the pocket knife you'd gifted him last Christmas.

It was after everyone had finished eating that Tommy brought it up.

Joel had groaned. "Don't we live enough horror?"

"This one's a good one," Tommy insisted. "You'll love it, Ellie. It's based on a true story."

She was the only one who looked remotely curious. You supposed that was enough since Tommy was settling into his seat and clearly mulling over how to tell the story. Maria seated herself right alongside him, willing to humor her husband.

Joel was distracted, and likely would remain so. He was seated cross legged in the grass next to his one and a half year old nephew, receiving handmade wooden blocks over and over as the toddler willingly passed them to him. Joel had accepted each one with a grateful smile that mesmerized you a little. The kid was too young to know, but Joel had made them himself not long after he'd returned to Jackson with Ellie, months before you showed up. But you knew. You knew how much his nephew meant to him, and how much he valued his time around him. You were so focused on their endearing interaction you almost didn't catch on that Tommy had begun telling the story. (You'd later wish you hadn't caught any of it at all.)

"This story happened here in Jackson," he started. "The Green family, husband, wife, their teen twin daughters moved here in 1925, lookin' to start up a ranch like most who moved out here back then." He took a beat. "Now, Jackson was a small town then, might've been even smaller than it is now, but it wasn't that safe. Most of the west had been tamed but there were still a few outlaws, and no matter how tame a place gets, there's always someone stirring up trouble of one kind or another." He paused, "Mr. Green was one of those men. Wanting so desperately to afford his own land, he took to gambling, and cheating when he knew he was about to lose. Ripped off a lot of people, and in turn pissed a lot off too. In revenge, someone lit up his little clock shop on main street with him inside. They didn't know his wife was there with him at the time."

"But their daughters weren't?" Ellie prompted, invested in the story already, hands on her knees.

Tommy shook his head. "Thankfully, no. They were at a friend's house."

"So, what happened after?"

Tommy sighed. "The sheriff found the burned bodies of the husband and wife in the morning, unrecognizable, but the twins recognized the jewelry they were wearing, and everyone knew he'd been there that night. The fire was immediately deemed suspicious, but the murderer was never found."

"Of course not," you couldn't help but huff out. You'd heard a lot of similar "true" stories like this.

Tommy ignored you. "The orphaned twins found their father's secret stash of money and were able to rebuild the shop, turning it into a sewing store. A place where they handmade clothes to sell to people and sold supplies to make clothes, depending on the customer's preference. They turned the second floor into an apartment, living in the same space together. It made their lives easier to be able to walk downstairs and immediately get to work."

"There was one hiccup though," he stated dramatically, "The twins kept hearing noises at night. It started out as random thumps and creaks they could easily explain away as the place settling or their cat knocking something over, but eventually turned into sounds like footsteps and dragging furniture. It freaked them out, especially since whenever they got up to check, the living room chair would usually be out of place. They couldn't believe it. Something was moving it, but they didn't know what. Didn't want to know."

"What happened to them?" Ellie encouraged him, frowning.

"About a decade after their parents died, their shop burned down mysteriously," Tommy told her, poking a stick at the burning logs in the pit, moving them around so the flames could get more oxygen. "Luckily, they weren't inside, but because there was no evidence to otherwise, it was deemed as an accident this time. The twins weren't convinced. They thought their parents' killer was out to get them. They thought their parents had been with them in their apartment and were trying to scare them out, like they knew it would happen again. Of course, they couldn't prove it. That didn't stop them from moving out of town, settling somewhere else. The locals heard that they lived out long, mostly happy lives after, but they were, to say the least, haunted by what happened until their last breaths. They never did get justice for their parents. Their killer was never found."

Everyone here that isn't under two years old could relate to that, you thought. Being haunted by loss and injustice.

"While that was the end of the story for the Green family," Tommy continued, "It was not the end for the town. The spot the shop was built on was used for other things. More shops, eventually a house when main street was moved over to where it is today. No more burned down, but the roof on one shop collapsed because of heavy snowfall one year. Of course, that's not the spooky part. It's that the buildings on that piece of land were always haunted. The owners always heard strange things a night, always found furniture moved from where they'd been left."

"Where is the piece of land?" Ellie inquired curiously, if not a bit nervously.

"You don't actually believe him, do ya?" Joel teased, glancing over at her.

"Of course not," she denied. "I just want the full story."

He grinned like someone who'd found a secret to weaponize against a friend. You were smiling too. Who knew Ellie was superstitious?

"No one knows where the piece of land is," Tommy declared. "It could be one of our houses for all we know. I don't think it's mine, but then I sleep through a lot."

"Tell me about it," Maria huffed.

You chuckled at her comment but couldn't help but shiver a little. It wasn't like you thought Tommy's "true" story had actually been real, but rather that the spirit of the story (pun not intended) had settled over you, so similar to the feeling you used to get after finishing up a horror movie. It may have been fake, but your body reacted like it wasn't, getting keyed up over the creepiness of strange noises happening in a house that should be quiet.

Joel, ever so vigilant, noted your shiver, but assumed it was from the cool wind picking up. It was probably close to ten at night.

"Well, we outta get home, huh?" he suggested, looking up at the sky. "The clouds are gathering. Might have a storm tonight."

"I'm certain of it," Maria told you both. "Can smell it in the air."

You never quite understood how people could do that, and wondered if your sense of smell was just bad.

You pushed yourself up off the log you were sitting on as Joel scooped up his nephew and handed him off to Maria. "See you tomorrow," he said to both her and his brother. They both nodded.

"Thanks for the story, Tommy," Ellie said, hopping onto her feet. "Even if it's totally fake."

"If you say so," he hummed, smiling. He almost convinced you that he believed the story and that it wasn't entirely made up. Almost.

Ellie was about to walk away when Joel stopped her with a hand. "Where are you going?"

"Some friends of mine are hanging out with Dina at her house," she informed him. "I said I'd stop in."

Joel gave her a disapproving look. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I won't be long," Ellie replied, giving him a pleading look. "You know them."

It was mostly true. You and Joel had seen her with her friends before and had met Dina herself, but you both weren't naive enough to think that wasn't just the tip of the iceberg of knowing them. Teens hid their truths well.

Still, against his better judgement Joel gave her the benefit of the doubt. "Be at the house by midnight the latest."

Ellie jumped in spot. "Okay, I will. Thanks!"

Joel shook his head as she jogged off. "Am I going to regret that?" he asked you.

"Probably," you said honestly.

You both turned to Tommy and Maria one last time to say goodbye and kissed their son on the cheek before strolling back to your house across the street.

The wind started to really blow and thunder boomed in the distance. An autumn storm was definitely on the way.

A wooden floorboard creaked behind you and you spun around, heart pounding in your chest. You relaxed instantly when you saw that the noise had come from Joel stepping on one of the house's loose floorboards (that he had been, in fact, planning to fix that weekend). In the dark you couldn't really see the details of his face, but there was enough light to see the outline of his sleep mussed hair and angular nose. You could also see that he'd slipped on the matching shirt to the gray sweatpants he sometimes wore to bed on chilly nights before following you.

"What are you doin’ up?" he murmured sleepily, voice as gruff as ever.

"I heard something," you whispered back. "Probably nothin’, but..."

Joel nodded, understanding. If there was anyone who could outmatch your anxious state of being at any point in time, it would be him. He already had the handgun he kept hidden in his nightstand in his right hand.

Of course he'd taken your concern seriously. Even though he'd been in Jackson for nearly two years, he still fell into old habits easily. He'd probably never quite believe that the town was one hundred percent safe. It was why he'd joined patrol.

He didn't know why you were worried, but you being worried was enough, and you decided not to tell him that the single thump wasn't really what had compelled you to get up.

The storm was dying down, and when another thump sounded, followed by a soft whine, your current dog, a senior black Lab named Penny, limped out of her bed, stopping by your side loyally and growling, neck hair standing on end. Though your heart was banging in your chest and your mind was once again wondering what the hell was in the house, there was still a part of you that managed to wonder how Penny had heard the sound at all. She'd been progressively losing her hearing during the past year, and her deafness was in both ears, unlike Joel's.

You and Joel glanced at each other anxiously and quietly made your way down the stairs, Joel automatically taking the lead, and you gratefully following. Penny smartly lingered at the top of the steps, watching you go.

Once you'd both made it to the kitchen, Joel tried flicking on the lights, and you were grateful when they worked, surprised that the men who dealt with the power supply had gotten it back up and running so soon.

Ellie, however, was certainly not pleased by that revelation. She blinked at you and Joel, squinting in reaction to the sudden bright light, and groaned. "Fuck."

She was seated in one of the kitchen chairs, bending slightly over to rub the big toe of her right foot, clearly having stubbed it on something when she'd stepped into the room. Her tied back shoulder length brown hair was soaking wet and she was still wearing the dark green raincoat Maria had gifted her on her sixteenth birthday.

She pulled her hand away from her toe to pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes avoiding both yours and Joel's. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Ellie, do you realize what time it is?" Joel lectured, immediately switching into dad mode. You liked to think it was trademarked to him. "It's four AM. You promised you'd be home by midnight."

"I know," she moaned. "But I fell asleep, and no one bothered to wake me up. Dina didn't know I wasn't supposed to stay over."

"Why didn't you tell her?" Joel quizzed as he approached her. He sniffed the air. "And why do you smell like you poured alcohol over your head?" He stared at her disapprovingly.

Ellie grimaced. "I may have drank a little." She knew better than to deny it at least.

"Go get washed up and get to bed," Joel ordered sternly, eyes narrowing. "And don't think about spending time there next weekend. We'll talk more in the morning."

Ellie chewed her lip, but didn't argue, standing and bowing her head in defeat as she raced past you both to do as told.

Joel shook his head as he watched her go and scrubbed a hand over his face. You blew out the candle you were still holding and placed it on the kitchen table before reaching out to slip your newly freed hand into his. "Teenagers."

Joel grunted. "She listened better out on the road."

"Out on the road she was in survival mode," you reminded him gently. "Here she feels safe enough to make mistakes. To get into trouble."

"Are you trying to imply it's a good thing she stayed out all night and drank?" he huffed. "Did God knows what else?"

"No," you said simply. "I don't like it either. But at least it's normal."

And it was far better finding Ellie in the kitchen, even if she was a little tipsy, than some ghost.

You snorted at your train of thought.

"What're you thinkin' of?" Joel asked, having noticed.

You shook your head. "Nothin’. Let's get back to bed."

He agreed to it reluctantly, still stewing over what Ellie had done, and after you shut the light, you led the way back upstairs, past Penny, who'd climbed back into her dog bed in the hallway.

He got back into bed first, and you followed, wrapping an arm around his middle, burying your face against the back of his shoulder, and he accepted your embrace without protest.

You slept soundly for the rest of the night, what little there was left, despite Ellie having come home late.

There were worst things in life than a teenager coming home drunk.

At least you weren't living out a horror movie called A Haunting In Jackson.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

Visitation Rights

Morning Routine

#The Last Of Us (HBO)#Joel Miller Fanfic #Ellie Williams Fanfic #PedroHalloween2023 #X Reader #TLOU Fanfic (Mine)#Fanfiction #Mine

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1liv · 7 months

Text

WILDERNESS 1x02 "The Other Woman"

#jenna coleman #wilderness #tvedit #cinematv #wlwedit #jcolemanedit #morgana van peebles #jenna louise coleman #wilderness tv #liv taylor #liv x ash #jennacolemanedit #wildernessedit #jlcedit #wilderness 1x02 #wilderness gifs #vsnom

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slothquisitor · 5 months

Text

Heroes and Villains

"Astarion thinks he might have found these sorts of discussions compelling, once. In a time before, when it might have mattered. Morality is a luxury only afforded to those with actual choices. For so long, morality was just another obstacle keeping him from grasping whatever meager scraps of comfort were available, so he tried not to trouble himself too much about it." Recommended listening: Villain by Searows. Astarion x Liv, 4.7k.

Also on AO3.

____________________________________________________________

The Emperor is in her head, and it will not save Jaheira’s friend. She is tired, wounded from the battle, and Jaheira is yelling even as Minsc fights their tadpole connection. It feels as it always does, an invasion, a violation. Images and memories that are not her own flash through her mind.

She hates the way the tadpoles connect them all, taking memories and trading them around without thought or concern. She tries to fight it, but more memories come and she knows that Minsc is seeing her own as well.

She had never considered that the Emperor would say no to this, that the protection offered so readily to Duke Ravengard, to each of her other companions, wouldn’t extend to another. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel right . She is missing something, but she’s just not sure what.

“We need all the help we can get, you told me to gather allies. Please, just help him!”

“Don’t be foolish. He is too unpredictable. He will only be a hindrance to us,” the Emperor replies.

Jaheira shakes her head. “The mindflayer pours poison into your ear, I think. Tell it I will tear the prism from your grasp and throw it into the deepest lava pit I can find. Long after our bones are dust and ash, the walls of its prison will still be burning. Now help my friend!”

The Emperor believes Jaheira to be bluffing, but Liv doesn’t care if she is or she isn’t. She doesn’t agree with the Emperor’s assessment. Especially when its only argument is Minsc being too unpredictable, too chaotic. Having to coerce it into doing this leaves a sour taste in her mouth. There’s something familiar about the tone used, something she can’t quite place, but feels like she knows. In the end, it agrees, but the disappointment in her is palpable. As if she is the one in the wrong here. It is not the first time that she’s questioned this alliance of theirs, but it is the first time that she feels how fragile it might be.

But then, Minsc is saved and Jaheira is grateful, and Liv has helped . It is almost enough to banish her worries about the Emperor. But then talking with Minsc reveals the Zhentarim’s plot. They mean to overthrow Nine-Fingers, and Liv could kick herself for not realizing that the Zhentarim haven’t just thrown their lot in with the Absolute for profit, but have perfectly set themselves up for a coup since they’re the Guild’s fighting force. And if Nine-Fingers is in danger…that means Percy is too.

Like so many things, it’s not exactly their problem to solve, but no one questions her when she suggests they hurry to the guild hall. Worry gnaws at her the whole way. What if they are too late? What if Percy is caught in all of this?

When they arrive to the guild hall, it is sheer chaos. Fighting has broken out in every corner, wreathed by darkness it’s hard to tell who is who. But Liv rushes in anyway, determined to find her brother, to keep him safe, to help. She’s not sure exactly why she cares so much. The last time she saw him she had told him she wasn’t sure she even wanted a relationship with him, thought it would be better not to continue with any expectations.

She doesn’t regret saying it, putting that distance between them so that she could have space to figure this thing out, but there’s a part of her that worries that he won’t survive this and then she’ll never know whether they could have found some way to be a family. He knows the dangers she’s throwing herself into every day too, is it possible he has those same worries? It seems far too much to hope.

She and Minsc, Astarion and Jaheira wade into the the fray. She has to be careful as she targets her magic not to catch members of the guild unaware, but as she tosses flame bolts and lines up lightning, she catches the eye of several grateful folks, looking more than a little ragged. Nine-Fingers had said herself that the Guild was no fighting force, and it shows as the Zhentarim cut through their defenses. Nine-Fingers is caught in the fray too, throwing knives at the very force she’d brought in to protect her people.

Liv is breathing hard, racing up the wooden steps tossing magic as carefully as she can. At the top of the stairs, there is a group of Guild members unsuccessfully trying to parry the unwavering assault of a Zhentarim swordsman. Her lightning chains through him to another fighter, armed to the teeth with knives. They both fall, bodies twitching.

Beside her, a figure emerges from the darkness, as if they have stepped directly from the shadows. “What in the hells are you doing here?” Percy asks.

The relief that fills her is a short-lived thing, something she can barely focus on before throwing a shield up and hearing the soft thunk as an arrow plunks harmlessly off it. She’d seen the glimmer of the bolt just in time. “Saving your ass. What does it look like?”

Percy shakes his head in confusion. “How did you even know?”

Liv gestures across the hall towards Minsc. “Turns out the Stone Lord wasn’t really operating on his own free will. The Zhentarim are aligned with the cultists as well.”

Percy throws a knife with deadly accuracy at an enemy, barely looking at her. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I think the exit is clear, you can make a break for it,” Liv says, tossing a firebolt at an archer aiming for Astarion.

Percy glares at her. “These are my people. My friends. I’m not going anywhere until every last Zhent bastard is dead.” His words are laced with protective fury she didn’t realize he was capable of.

“Yeah, okay,” Liv says unsure how else to respond. “What can we do? You know this space better than me.”

Percy scans the room quickly. “Those archers are a problem.” High on the scaffolding, Zhentarim archers shoot down into the fighting, slowly picking off Guild members completely unchallenged. He turns to her and grins. “How’s your close-combat fighting?”

She’s got spells for that. “Fine enough.”

“Then let’s go.” Percy grabs her hand, and they step directly into the shadows. For a heartstopping moment, there is nothing but darkness around them, and then they emerge, as if out of a doorway, directly behind the archers.

She doesn’t hesitate, and neither does Percy. When the archers are dead, she and Percy return to the lower levels going their separate ways as they make their way across this makeshift battlefield. The tide is turning in the fight, and for that she is grateful.

The buzz of battle always feels somehow eternal, though Liv knows that’s not the case. But finally, the last arrow flies and the battle is done and quiet falls within the guild hall as if everyone is truly wondering if it’s really over. And then the cheers rise up like heat on a summer’s day, slowly at first, but then louder. The folks of the guild aren’t used to open battle like this, to working in synchronization with each other. There’s a comradery in the room that she didn’t notice before, the existence of a shared enemy uniting the disparate groups.

She watches her brother check in on his people, his friends. Watches the concern and the worry in every line of his face, and feels a wave of resentment rise up within her. Who are these people who deserve care and worry and concern from her brother? Is it unforgivably selfish of her to have wanted some of that worry and concern? He hasn’t even spoken to her since the battle ended. But then she was the one who told him that it would be better if they didn’t have expectations of each other. And yet...

“Are you alright?” Astarion asks as he approaches. His gaze roves over her, clearly taking stock of any injuries. He gently steers her out of the way of two guild members carrying another, his hand lightly on her back. “I lost sight of you for a moment.”

“Percy took me up to take care of the archers.”

Astarion frowns. “Strategic of him.” Astarion has been clear about his feelings in regard to her brother, her family, and there’s a part of her that doesn’t exactly disagree. There’s a part of her that wonders if he’s right, that maybe they shouldn’t have come here at all.

“Yeah,” she replies, still watching her brother move between groups, care and concern etched into every line of his face. Was he always capable of kindness?

There is something invariably depressing about this realization, that perhaps if she’d been different, more observant, said the clever thing, asked the right questions, left that house sooner. That she wouldn’t be discovering all this about her brother now. She wants to rush over to him, bombard him with questions. Where was this gentleness when her sister died? When she wept over the burns her mother’s magic left behind?

But it’s not the time. She cannot afford to fall apart now. Cannot afford to fall apart here. Later, perhaps she can be angry or sad or whatever these tangled feelings are, but she cannot do it now. So she tears her gaze away from her brother, sees Nine-Fingers standing across the hall. She is battle-bloodied and stone-faced, surveying the damage.

Her eyes fall on Liv. “Why don’t we have a chat in my office?” The words are filled with a quietly contained rage. It is not a request. She looks to one of her ladies and raises her voice loud enough that it booms in the hall. “Enough gawking. There’s a mess here to clean up.”

There is no hesitation from the members of the guild, from her court. Nine-Fingers stalks up the steps toward her office and everyone jumps to work. Liv, Minsc, Jaheira, and Astarion trail her up the steps and into her dimly lit office. The doors close ominously behind them.

Nine-Fingers stands at her desk, daggers still drawn. She turns to them as they enter, glaring at them all, challenge in her eyes.“The Zhent are down - just you and me now, Stone Lord. So if you mean to take my chair, you’ll get no better chance than this.”

Minsc shifts uncomfortably, but shifts easily into a fighting stance. “Minsc has no interest in your furniture, Nine-Fingers - only in the wicked rump that fills it!”

Nine-Fingers looks towards Liv, face twisted in confusion. “....What?”

“You have been a stone in this city’s boot for too long. And it will be no Stone Lord who reaches ‘twixt Balduran’s sticky toes to dislodge you - it will be Minsc!”

Nine-Fingers sighs and sheaths her knives, clearly deciding that despite Minsc’s threats, the fighting is done. “I haven’t got the slightest idea what he’s trying to say.”

“Proof that he is back to normal, no?” Jaheira interjects.

Liv jumps in to defuse the situation. “He was under the sway of the Absolute, tadpoled same as the rest of us. Everything he did as the Stone Lord wasn’t his choice. He’s protected now and the Stone Lord is no more.”

Nine-Fingers laughs, crossing her arms. “Good. I’d rather you die as Minsc the mad Rashemaar. It’s silly, but d’you know you were something of a hero of mine when I was young?”

Minsc shakes his head. “Even now, your tongue twists the truth. When you were young and ten-fingered still, Minsc and Boo- were stone estatuated in a city square!”

“Aye, I remember the spot - by a garden on the Wide. A soft thicket near the market, with ample pockets to pick. Celestia itself, to a street rat looking for shelter. You might not have been wrestling monsters, but...you kept the wind and rain off. Heroic enough for me,” Nine-Fingers shrugs. Liv can see the strategy here, but she suspects there’s some kernel of truth to the story.

Minsc shakes his head. “Bah! You try to dampen Boo’s eyes. Do not think you will be spared his teeth. Evil is evil…even if it once was…innocent.”

Nine-Fingers lifts up both hands. “Oh, I’m no innocent. But evil? You tell me. With the Fist, the watch, and the council itself licking the Absolute’s boots, who’s the only one left standing to protect Baldur’s Gate?”

Jaheira nods. “She’s right, Minsc. She’s been an ally down through the years. A friend, even.”

“A friend? Jaheira, Boo cannot believe his ears. Has the city fallen so far in our absence? Are there no heroes left?”

Nine-Fingers steps closer, eyes narrowed. “Heroes come and go, but the Guild has always been here, protecting the city. Until the Stone Lord came to break us.”

Liv looks between the guild master and the massive ranger, she’s had enough conflict today. “Minsc, the Guild will fight with us. We just have to let them.”

Minsc nods, but his face twists in sadness. “I am ashamed. Nydeska , unworthy to fight alongside my friends. Boo, what am I to do?”

Nine-Fingers has her opening and she takes it. “I can’t speak for your rodent, but I know something of debts. If you reckon you’ve got one to repay…well, we could always work together. We’ve got bigger enemies than one another. The city’s enemies. And, honest truth? You gave my Guild the wake-up call it needed. We’ve grown complacent, lazy. We never would’ve needed the Zhent if we’d had a fighting force of our own. Swords for the city, for when the Fist and watch fail us.”

Liv watches Minsc struggle with his ideals and accepting a deal with Nine-Fingers that fits within them, but eventually they do come to an accord. After dealing with the Absolute, Minsc will help protect Nine-Fingers, get a fighting force in shape. It means that Minsc will be keeping an eye on the Guild, and Nine-Fingers gets a better fighting force. Everyone wins.

Eventually, Nine-Fingers turns toward her. “With the Stone Lord off my back, I’ll be able to bring my people out of hiding. Cobble together a force, so we’re ready when you call on us.”

“I appreciate that.”

Nine-Fingers nods. “You have my thanks. Though I’m still not actually sure you haven’t made my life that little bit harder. Must run in the family.” The last bit sounds almost approving, but then Nine-Fingers sits down at her desk a little stiffly, the exhaustion clear, her mask slipping just a bit. “Now get the hells out of my office. You’ve brought me enough trouble for one day.”

As they exit, Jaheira steps close. “We shouldn’t linger. I don’t know that many know the Stone Lord’s identity, but I can’t imagine this alliance will go over well if anyone does.”

Liv nods. “Of course…I just…I’d like to talk to my brother before we go.”

Jaheira looks like she wants to argue but thinks better of it. “Of course.”

Percy is easy to find, he’s helping the injured into the tavern area where the Guild’s healers are doing their best to patch everyone up. It’s still surprising, so at odds with the person she thought he was. She’s not really sure what she’s here to say…only that she thinks that something needs saying.

He notices her approach as he finishes half-carrying a half-orc over to a chair. He sets the man down before approaching. “You heading out?” he asks.

Liv crosses her arms just to have something to do with them. “Yeah, but I wanted to check-in? Are you alright?”

Percy runs his hand over his jaw and glances around the room. “This is….uh…this is as close to a home as I’ve got, and Zhent attacked us in it today…so, no.”

That’s fair. It was probably a stupid question. “I’m sorry. We came as soon as we knew-”

He holds up a hand stopping her words. “I don’t doubt it. You didn’t have to, but you did anyway. Thank you.” There’s a heaviness weighing down each word, but there’s no double-talk, it feels genuine.

She wants to be better at this, at knowing what to do now. “I should go. Let you get back to taking care of your people.” She hopes he can’t hear her confusion, the bitterness she can’t quite seem to let go of.

He stares at her for a long moment before shaking his head. “Of course.” But then he steps close, for a moment she thinks he might reach for her. For a moment, she thinks she might want him to, might want the comfort of her older brother, whatever that might look like. Instead, he stops short. “I don’t know what Nine-Fingers promised you, but I’m with you. When you call, I’ll be there.”

It’s more than she ever expected; it’s not quite enough. “Thank you.”

He turns away then, going back to his people, to help them pick up the pieces. She leaves and tells herself it isn’t a retreat. Tells herself that it’s fine that this is something she might never see fixed.

The fire is bright and warm, and Astarion has a new book. He plucked it from a shelf in the Stone Lord’s little sewer hideout. It’s a romance, and a badly written one at that. It’s so bad it’s entertaining. He dog ears the pages with the cheesiest lines, intending to show Liv as soon as she joins him for the evening. She desperately needs a laugh after the day they’ve had, crawling through sewers and getting caught in power plays. And dealing with that brother of hers.

He’s not sure that they made the right call today, sticking their noses in the Guild’s mess with the Zhentarim. Seems like a good way to make enemies they won’t even know they have until it’s too late. But Liv had wanted to rush in anyway to save her brother. He hopes Percy realizes how lucky he is that she gives a shit. That she keeps handing him chances.

He doesn’t know what Liv was thinking today, but there was something about watching her brother after the battle that had shaken her somehow. He’s still trying to decide if she’s going to bring it up or if he’ll need to.

It will have to wait, as Liv has been waylaid by their new companion. Astarion doesn’t mean to be eavesdropping on their conversation, but it’s hard not to. Minsc’s loudness is perhaps only rivaled by Karlach’s. His voice booms out across the room, and whether Astarion wants to or not, he hears every single word.

“I wished to believe the Stone Lord’s evil was the worm alone, a-tainting my thoughts with foul dung. But I see now, the dung was within Minsc all along. So I wonder, if Minsc can be a villain, and Nine-Fingers a hero: must it be so with all creatures? Is there good and evil within us all? Heh. Boo calls this nonsense. Less thinking of bad thoughts, says he, and more breaking of bad bones. But still - I would hear what you have to say on the matter, my friend.”

Astarion thinks he might have found these sorts of discussions compelling, once. In a time before, when it might have mattered. Morality is a luxury only afforded to those with actual choices. For so long, morality was just another obstacle keeping him from grasping whatever meager scraps of comfort were available, so he tried not to trouble himself too much about it.

But now? Now he is free, truly free, and he’s not sure what he believes in. He’s not sure where he fits on the spectrum of hero to villain.

It takes Liv a moment to respond to Minsc, it’s clear that she’s considering her response carefully. “I think we all have the capacity for good and bad. I don’t think that it’s as simple as villains and heroes though, it’s a lot of shades of gray.”

Minsc laughs his booming laugh. “Minsc does not believe there are these ‘shades’ when it comes to evil. Evil is evil!”

“Maybe sometimes. And maybe sometimes we try to do the right thing, and end up hurting people instead.”

“You mean like with Minsc as the Stone Lord? Minsc tried to do a good thing, destroy the cult! Instead, he got tadpoled and puppeted around by the Absolute.”

Liv’s voice doesn’t sound entirely sure. “Kind of like that, yeah.”

Or perhaps she means that it is more like insisting on completing an infernal ritual that would have killed seven thousand people? He hadn’t done it, but he had wanted to, and do wants and desires factor into goodness or is it just actions? He doesn’t want this, these questions he’s not sure what to do with. He’ll go read elsewhere then, farther away in hopes that he doesn’t have to listen in, doesn’t have to question. Doesn’t have to find himself at a loss about who he should be now.

He snaps his book shut, and wanders over to the bed he and Liv have been sharing. The one he thinks of as hers, but not his. His is over in a shared alcove with Gale, and while his things live there, he almost never is. He supposes he could move them, but he likes the idea of still having his own space, a place to retreat to, even if he doesn’t necessarily use it. It feels like an extravagance, and he gets comfortable, opening up the book once more and trying to tune out the voices around.

It isn’t long before Liv joins him, looking tired. He smiles at her. “Sounds like you and Minsc were having quite the lively conversation. Tell me, have you figured out if the rodent is actually conversing with him or is he just mad?”

Liv gives him a hard look. “Be nice. We need all the allies we can get.”

Astarion feigns offense. “I’m always nice.” It earns him a smile.

“There was something…though…I wanted to discuss,” Liv says, words quiet and unsure.

He shifts his legs, making space for her to join him on the bed. “I’m all pointy ears, my love.”

She sits down, hands twisting together in her lap, but she doesn’t speak for a long moment. The silence drags on, but he waits her out. “Did you find it odd that the Emperor didn’t want to extend its protection to Minsc?”

It’s not the question he’s expecting, and not just because there are so many other things that happened today that he expected to be on her mind. They so rarely discuss the inhabitant of the Astral Prism, but he knows she doesn’t trust it. Hasn’t since she discovered that their protection is dependent on Orpheus’s continued captivity, that the dreams they shared and the protector they believed to be helping was really a mindflayer. He knows she feels watched like the Emperor is always listening in. They cannot change it, so they don’t discuss it.

“I hadn’t thought much of it,” Astarion answers truthfully. “But I suppose it does seem odd considering how quick it was to protect Wyll’s father. The rodent conversing aside, Minsc is a hero of the city.”

Liv looks relieved. “Okay, I’m glad I’m not the only one then. I just…I feel like I’m missing something. Something’s not adding up…and then there’s the Duke Stelmane thing…”

She had shown him the book she’d found immediately, about Stelmane’s condition, about a visitor that came to her rooms. They hadn’t talked about it, worried that deep in the Emperor’s old hideout they were being watched. Like many things these days, they don’t have much choice but trusting the Emperor, since their continued existence and people and not mindflayers is due to its intervention.

Astarion reaches over and untangles her hands, holding one gently in what he hopes feels reassuring. “Like you said, we need all the allies we can get. Shades of gray, hmmm?” He hopes she catches his meaning without coming right out and saying it.

She nods in acknowledgment. It is not so simple as heroes and villains. It never was.

“Is it still trying to get you to use the tadpole?” he asks. This conversation still feels precarious, but he wants to know. The Emperor has tried to make inroads with them all, but Liv has always been the sole recipient of its attention since it revealed its true nature. He doesn’t miss the dreams, the mysterious Guardian promising him power.

“Sometimes it reminds me of my mother,” Liv says, words careful. An innocuous enough comment for almost anyone but her. She’ll never touch the tadpole she was given. That was the Emperor’s first mistake: making it about power. Liv is terrified of power and of the way that it corrupts. He disagrees of course, but that’s a discussion between the two of them that never seems to go anywhere.

He pulls her into him, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t worry, we’ve got Minsc and a miniature giant space hamster on our side now. We can’t possibly lose.”

She laughs. “Don’t forget that the Guild too.”

“Criminals and thieves. Who could ask for better company?”

She doesn’t reply and instead leans more fully into him, and he is grateful for the simplicity of it, the comforting reassurance that though they don’t have all the answers, they do have each other.

“Did you mean what you said to Minsc?” he asks.

Liv twists a bit so she can look up at him. “What thing?”

“About everyone having the capacity for good and bad?”

“Yes. I meant it.” Her eyes are searching his, looking for something, but he’s not sure what she might find, he’s not even sure himself why this has become so important to him tonight.

“How are you so sure?”

It’s clearly not the question she’s expecting, her eyebrows raise a bit in surprise. “I…I suppose…” She pauses as she considers. “Because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen good people do bad things; bad people do good things. It’s…complicated, isn’t it? I mean, I try to be a good person-”

“You are.” He’s not sure of much, but of that he is sure.

“But I’m not always sure that I’m making the right decisions every day. Sometimes right and wrong aren’t quite as clear-cut as I’d like them to be. I don’t know…I guess that’s why I’m always giving people more chances than they maybe deserve.”

He considers her answer, it’s thoughtful, if a little rueful. So he offers up a truth of his own. “I’m not sure what I believe. I’m not sure I care, really.” The last part rings false as he says it. He wishes it didn’t. It would be so nice, not to care.

“When I left my family, I was so lost. I had spent so much time fighting against them, being consumed by their actions and thoughts and expectations…I don’t think I really cemented what I believed until I stumbled off that nautiloid and I had the chance to start over.”

The confession surprises him. Oh, she’s told him of her insecurities from those early days, but he hadn’t considered that beneath her unflappable exterior, she might have been just as unsure as he feels now.

“I would never have guessed.”

“I don’t think that’s as comforting now as it would have been to me then. The rest of it will come, Astarion. If it’s important to you.”

“If you say ‘give it time’, I’m leaving,” he says, but he’s not at all serious. He’s just tired of the same refrain, of needing time. He’s never been patient, but the more he discovers he needs to reclaim in his own life, the less he’s willing to wait.

Liv sighs. “How about, ‘if we all die to the elder brain, it doesn’t matter anyway’?” She says it with a smile, a sarcastic lilt to her voice. But he catches an undercurrent of something, a kernel of truth nestled in the joke. He wonders what she’s pushing down, what she’s holding off dealing with.

But he doesn’t call her on it, not tonight. Instead, he cups her face and leans down to kiss her. “And isn’t that the most comforting of sentiments,” he says, smiling against her lips.

But hells, he’s never wished more for her to be wrong.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfic #astarion x liv #bright lost things #slothquisitorwrites

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im-poe-dameron · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN

a/n: so......it hasn't been that long since chapter ten has it? i swear i meant to pop the last four chapters out before my last semester ended. But between the chaos in my life growing each month, and my last year of college I kind of forgot about this story altogether. To be entirely honest i didn't intend on finishing it. Except here I am now on winter break and ready to finish! I swear. I won't vanish again. I have plotted out the remainder of this story and am writing chapter twelve as i post this. So the story will have an end. I swear.

I just want to say a big ass fucking THANK YOU to those who left comments on the last chapter. I literally have so many of them screenshotted and saved on my phone to re-read on bad days and that's why I'm finishing this fic. Cause i love you guys.

Also a massive thank you to @apascalrascal who beta read this chapter and to @caesaryoulater who also read it through and told me she loved it. And a special thanks to @themarcusmoreno who continues to be my enabler for everything and anything. This series included. I couldn't have done it without you guys. I think that's it! So without further ado, please enjoy this tension filled chapter of a dinner with friends.

summary: "come to dinner" poe said, "it'll be great" poe said. what a fucking liar.

word count: 10.3k+

pairing: 1980s!din djarin x fem!reader

warnings: slightly explicit (we'll get there guys), cussing, angst, fluff, lots of apologies, alcohol consumption, dry humping, poe dameron losing his will to live, poe dameron's sanity being tested, sexual tension, yelling, and some horrible attempts at comedy.

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You knew he was there before even fully waking up. The warmth of his arm was pressed into your waist, his breath hitting the back of your neck and causing the hair to stand up. At one point in the night the covers had been pushed down to the end of the bed—his body being the one thing that kept you warm. Yup…you knew he was there alright. So, why didn’t you get up? Why did you burrow further into his hold—smiling slightly as he pulled you closer, his nose pressing into your hair?

There was a term used for this kind of behavior and while you’d call it self inflicted torture, someone like Liv would have used something much stronger. It’s not like you didn’t want this. You did. Fuck, you wanted more than this. But the memories from last night were still fresh in your mind, playing on a twisted loop to remind you of what he did.

What you chose.

Except you could still feel the pressure of his lips against yours, the way he’d made your head spin…just like before. You wished you could simply forget. Yes, that would make things easier—in fact it would make you feel better. You would be able to look over everything he said to you, all the pain you were put through only to come to one conclusion. Living a life without Din Djarin, was not a life you wanted. Shit, it didn’t even seem like a life you could have. So, why couldn’t you forget?

The real reason was…you knew why. You were just too fucking afraid to say it out loud.

“I can hear you thinking,” he mumbled—the sound of his voice scaring you out of your worried state.

“How long have you been awake?”

A puff of air hit your neck, his raspy chuckle following it. “Long enough to know you’re panicking.”

“I’m not…panicking.” That was a lie—you were absolutely panicking.

Between his bar being turned into literal ash, his wounded state, and the fact that you had yet to discuss what you were, you felt as if your brain was halfway through running a 5k and you were barely at the starting line. What you really needed was time to breathe. Except the thought of leaving him again splintered what was left of your already broken heart. You were connected to him—beyond what the both of you could comprehend and that’s why you stayed.

You wanted to be there.

Turning, you kept your eyes shut until you felt his arm settle back over your waist. If you didn’t look at him maybe things would be better. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like your entire world was shattered and put back together in only a manner of weeks. Maybe…you’d figure out how to finally let him back in. They were all things you had trouble with—aspects of your life you wished you could forget about. Only you couldn’t. Letting Din back in meant forgiving everything that happened and for the life of you…you couldn’t do it. You didn’t know why.

“Are you going to open your eyes for me sweetheart?”

No. The word rang in your head like an alarm bell, because you knew what would happen if you opened your eyes. You’d fall in love with him again and it would be easier than breathing; a fact that both excited you and left a thrill of fear streaking down your spine. You were terrified of letting him in again—terrified of what he’d do.

“I want to,” you whispered, eyes still squeezed shut as he ran a finger down your cheek, making you shiver. “Fuck I want you.”

“You have me.”

You felt like you were going to cry the longer you lay there wallowing in your own pain, but you needed this. More than he did. He dealt with his own pain by leaving and it took you until now to realize you never truly dealt with yours. You only shoved it to the side in the hopes that it would one day disappear like everything else you harbored. All the grief William put you through somehow amounted to all the pain Din put you through. Until one day…it combined and you could no longer discern who broke what piece of your heart.

“Do I?”

His hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head back until his nose was brushed against yours. “Sweetheart I’m yours till the day I die.”

Scoffing, you felt a tear fall down your cheek towards your nose. He caught it in time. “You shouldn’t joke about something that literally almost happened.”

“Too soon?”

You shoved his shoulder. “You think Romeo?”

“Fuck…I missed that,” he breathed, pressing his nose against your cheek, lips brushing against yours.

“I thought you hated that?” It was maddening to be so close to what you wanted, centimeters apart, and still so far away—lost to the labyrinth of your mind.

“I don’t care what you call me sweetheart. As long as it’s you who’s calling me it.”

There it was. The truth that had yet to be fully untangled from the web of your messy pasts and feelings. You’d love him through all of this; through all of the pain, because he would do the same. He’d love you until the stars died in the sky, until you were buried beneath the ground side by side—just as it was always meant to go. Fate had a funny way of twisting two people together and you were fucking glad it chose Din Djarin to be that person.

“Din,” you whispered, finally opening your eyes and meeting the brown eyes you couldn’t forget even if you tried. “Kiss me.”

The words were barely audible, a mere brush of air across his chin, but you knew he heard them as if they were shouted in his ear. Closing the gap, he pressed his lips against yours in a messy but overdue kiss. Last night didn’t count. Not when you were both in shock from what happened. No, this…this right here is what you’d call your reunion—a choice you both made in the early morning hours of the day.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his tongue slid against yours, hand digging into his hair to keep him close while his went to your hip. If there’s one conclusion you could come to after all of this it was this. Din Djarin kissed like he was running out of time. He devoured you like you’d be gone in a few seconds, forever lost to the ravages of time and knowing your reputation of the past month…he had good reason to. While he still tasted the same, you felt the difference in his hold and really everything about him.

This wasn’t him kissing you because you asked him.

This was him apologizing one more time, because when it came to Din…he’d never be able to say sorry enough times to feel okay with what his past amounted to.

So, you took all the pain and reflected it back to him. You moaned into the kiss—proving to him that this, him, is what you wanted. There wouldn’t be another choice for you; that much you were entirely sure of. His arm circled, your waist, tugging you closer and rolling onto his back dragging you with him. You still kissed him; still leaned further into his touch and licked fervently into his mouth. He shuddered as your nails dug into the nape of his neck; his hips bucking up into yours, bringing a smile to your lips.

“Eager,” you teased.

He pulled back, mouth opening to shoot back what would no doubt be an eviscerating comment, but all that came out was a deep broken groan. His head falling back into the pillow as you dropped your hips fully onto his—grinding your cunt along his clothed cock. Sex was off the table. The both of you knew this. But riling Din up drew a different kind of pleasure to your body, until you felt like you were floating as you watched him lose his mind.

“Fuck,” he rasped, eyes opening to reveal his once brown eyes now turned dark. “You’re going to kill me sweetheart.”

You shook your head, dragging your hips forward and gasping at the pressure. “Not exactly—oh—”

His hands splayed on your hips, guiding your movements as if you were actually riding him. If you imagined hard enough you could remember what it felt like to have him inside you—the stretch of him filling you completely until you were gasping for breath. Part of you wanted to have it back, beg him to fuck you into the mattress like he used to. But last night still happened and you weren’t so keen to forget about it. So, with a stuttered jolt of your hips, you stopped, shifting forward to kiss him languidly instead.

A soft moan was swallowed by him, his hand coming up to clutch the back of your neck gently—kissing you back. Only with him every kiss felt just as filthy as fucking him did. What started off slow and sweet became a mixture of spit, teeth, and tongues licking hotly into each other’s mouths, driving one another insane. You were shaking as he ran his hands down your back, the warmth of his palms seeping into your t-shirt covered skin. Fuck, you wanted more than just kissing him. You wanted all of it. The romance, the love, the sex.

You wanted him.

Except the tiny—almost minuscule—amount of doubt continued to ring in the back of your head.

The door to your bedroom opened swiftly and you jolted back, nipping sharply at his bottom lip enough to draw a small amount of blood.

“Breakfast is ready if you two are done fucking,” Liv said rushing down the hall before the pillow you threw could actually hit her in the face.

Din fell back onto the bed, his hands still on your hips as you remained on his lap. If you could locate your camera, you’d take a picture of this sight—placing it right beside the polaroid of him in the record shop. But after your breakup you gave it to Poe to keep, making sure that you didn’t have it around to break when you broke down again. The sunlight broke through your half opened curtains, casting a glow along his face, causing him to look ethereal. It was a wonder he truly didn’t see what you did—always shying away from the compliments you gave him.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, shifting to clamber—rather ungracefully—off his lap.

You didn’t catch the way his eyes opened, taking in your half bare form, his erection still pressing painfully along the tight confines of his jeans. “Yeah,” he murmured, the taste of you mixed with copper still stuck on his tongue.

“Liv makes some good pancakes.” You grabbed your own jeans, shoving them on to look at least semi-presentable.

When in reality you would much rather lock the door and ride your ex-boyfriend until he couldn’t think straight. Shaking your head you attempted to rid yourself of those thoughts. Liv would see them a mile away and you refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing you were so in love it hurt. You willed away the spark of heat that began to stir in your stomach that only seemed to grow the longer he stared at you from where he was sitting—half naked with dark eyes that kept you frozen in place. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful version of yourself. When merely you were sporting a messy look as you fought against the arousal burning low.

None of that mattered to him though.

You’d known that the second you finally set your heart on letting him in. He only wanted you—in whatever form you took, whatever way you looked—he would take it in a heartbeat.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you said, glancing away as he stood to his full height, moving forward to cup your chin. “It’s distracting.”

“Good,” he replied.

A swift kiss was pressed to your lips; a broken sound leaving your throat as he cemented the arousal in your mind—reminded you of what it felt like in the early days of being with him. It was hard to believe so much time had passed between the two of you. When in reality it felt like years had gone by in a blink of an eye. Leaning forward you pressed against his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms as he continued to kiss you slowly…deeply.

“We have to…” Your eyes fluttered open to see him sporting a small smile on his face.

“Breakfast?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes we have to do that.”

“C’mon sweetheart.” He slipped his singed shirt back on, his eyes glancing at the burned spot on the corner of it.

You knew it would take time to recover from what happened for the both of you. His bar was his home; the one place he felt completely safe, and now it was gone in the blink of an eye. Going back to it would be a difficult feat in itself. One you’d done before him, and one you’d be glad to help him in accomplishing.

The kitchen smelled like pancakes and coffee; the scent filling your nose when you walked out. Liv was pouring a cup of coffee as surprisingly Poe cooked eggs with Finn watching over his shoulder—most likely to make sure he didn’t burn them. You hadn’t expected them to show up here, but knowing the debacle from last night, they probably had nowhere else to go. The door swung open, Paz traipsing in behind the woman you recognized as his girlfriend. He carried a grocery bag overflowing with food, her hands holding onto a different paper bag.

“Djarin!” he exclaimed, dropping the groceries unceremoniously on the counter, not bothering to see if they stayed upright. “We stopped by the bar.”

Just the mere mention of it caused Din to sit up a little straighter from where he was at the table, a cup of black coffee in front of him. “The damage?”

“Extreme.” Paz snatched a pancake off the plate in front of Liv. “The bottom half is burned to a crisp, but we managed to carefully get inside and your apartment didn’t take the brunt of the damage.”

“So all his stuff is still there?” you asked. If his place wasn’t burned entirely that means he still had his belongings, at least half of a home. You figured that was ten times better than no home at all.

The woman nodded. “Well…for the most part. The kitchen took the majority of the damage.”

“I can live with that,” Din said, glancing at you.

“This is Thyra by the way,” Paz replied, gesturing at her. “She’s been a part of us since the beginning.”

All the times you’d been to the bar and seen there, you couldn’t believe you’d never officially met her before. She was beautiful, standing tall in her heeled boots and long dark hair that draped over her shoulder in a braid. The symbol on her leather jacket was one you’d seen before; the sign of a Mandalorian—or at least that’s what Din told you before everything happened. Smiling, you stuck out your hand. If she was a part of the family that Din made for himself then you would welcome her with open arms.

“I’ve seen you before at the bar,” you said.

She nodded, her dark eyes practically sparkling. “It’s nice to finally meet you…sweetheart.”

Heat spread up your neck and into your cheeks, the hot coffee not helping even as you sipped at it. Had Din introduced you that way to everyone? Or was that merely the name they heard the most when it came to you? Her smile told you it was the latter, but her eyes told you something else and you weren’t sure what to believe. You felt his arm snake around your waist, the weight of it pressing lightly into your stomach as he pulled you closer to where he was sitting. Just that movement alone calmed the slight embarrassment that filled your veins. However, it did nothing to cease the racing of your heart. Thyra’s eyes flicked to him, a smile stretching across her lips as she no doubt teased him as well.

“Do me a favor,” she said, pointing her words at Din. “Don’t fuck it up or'dinii.”

Paz snorted. “You can’t expect that Thyra. Kaysh mirsh solus.”

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?” Din retorted, his eyes narrowing.

You’d never heard him speak his language other than the few words he let slip here and there, but now it seemed he was more open in letting those he cared about see this side of him. A part that only his family saw. You wondered if this officially made you his family now, and that thought alone made your lips twist upwards into a small grin. Paz roared with laughter, his own retort missing you completely as he tried to rile Din up enough to fully go through with his words. Except you had no clue what they were saying.

“What does that mean?” you asked softly, bringing his gaze back to you.

He shook his head, turning so you stood between his spread legs. “He called me an idiot.”

Your eyebrows raised. “And what exactly did you say?”

“An old phrase.”

“Which is…”

Thyra was the one to answer your question as she took a seat, a plate of pancakes in her hand. “Basically saying: are you looking for a smack in the face.”

“All in good nature,” Paz said.

“No fighting in my kitchen please,” Liv finally spoke up, her expression still in disbelief at the sight of several bikers taking up space in the already small apartment.

Poe and Finn were having their own conversation, leaning against the counter as they ate—unfazed by the talk of Mandalorians in front of them. This is what you missed. Sure, you ached to be back in the bar—back behind the counter—but this…the gathering of friends and family was what you missed the most. It seemed that even without the bar you could make yourselves at home anywhere; only needing one another to make that new place your new home.

The smile on your face widened, a sigh leaving your body as Din nudged you slightly to bring your attention back to him. It didn’t take him long to see it. The contentment in your stance, the joy in your eyes, and his own lips were turning up slightly. The sight of you happy enough to elicit that same emotion from him. You had him with you again. Him and all that came with him and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I missed this,” you said quietly enough for only Din to hear you.

“I missed you,” he replied, his hands pressing into your lower back.

Yeah…this just the way it is was perfect.

An hour later and you were helping Liv with the dishes as Din went through the bag Thyra brought from his apartment. Some clothes that didn’t take any damage, two extra pairs of boots, and what looked like a few picture frames that were hung up in the bar awhile ago. He must have moved them to his apartment before everything happened and you were about to ask him why when the door burst open again. Paz and Thyra had gone back to the bar to see what else they could salvage, leaving Poe and Finn to head back to their places.

Only to wind up back here.

Poe led in Finn, Rey, and Elora. He held a box in his hands, which he dropped by the couch beside Din.

“All the stuff you left at my place,” he said, snatching whatever was on the top before heading towards you. “And this.”

You smiled at the sight of the camera. “You took care of it.”

“Like you asked me to,” he replied. “I figured you’d want it back to take some more pictures.”

One look at Din searching through the box and you knew that you could take a million pictures of him, but it would never be enough to finally sear him into your mind. You weren’t even sure what it would take. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying—from capturing him on polaroid after polaroid, because now…you finally could. As if he could sense the way your eyes burned into his skin, he glanced up, his lips pulling up into a small grin. That apparently was enough to send your heart fluttering madly in your chest like a flurry of butterflies was passing through you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, pulling Poe into a hug. “I don’t know what I can do to repay you for how you’ve looked out for me after…everything.”

He shrugged. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“I feel like I should, given all the emotional distress.”

He’d been there from the start; watched you and Din grow as a couple only to see it fall to pieces. You and Din inadvertently tore apart a family that relied on the two of you to be together—a family you now called your own. Things still had to be resolved between the two of you; emotions had to be cleared and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time Din and you fought. But the heartbreak would be different then. All of it would be different, because you knew deep down that one way or another you’d find your way back to one another.

Just as the stars intended.

“Elora and I are hosting a dinner tonight,” Rey said. “Nothing big, but we’d like you and Din to come.”

You smiled, feeling another layer of anguish lift from your heart. “We’re there,” you replied. It may take some convincing to get Din there—only even you knew he would never truly say no to you. He never had before.

“It’s at Poe’s place.”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled, reaching for the plate of cookies Elora had brought. “I don’t know why you couldn’t do it at your place.”

Elora came up behind Rey, resting her chin on her shoulder. “You’re the one with the bigger apartment flyboy.”

“That’s not my fault.”

Elora smiled. “Oh so it’s not your fault you only got it cause the previous tenant had a crush on you?”

“Technically happened before I even moved here.”

“Still counts.”

“You can’t blame me for being pretty sunflower.”

She rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms loosely around Rey’s waist. “I’m not, because you are not the prettiest sunflower here.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving your mouth, the moment of playful irritation between them now lost. You wondered when they met, how they met—all of them—in order to become the way they were now. Sure, they were friends. Anybody could see that. Except there was something between them—something you couldn’t quite discern—that made them family. An unbreakable bond that had been tested again and again only to finally realize at the end of the day that it couldn’t be broken; no matter how hard someone tried to destroy it.

“What time?” you asked.

“7:30,” Elora responded. “We’re cooking and for the recipe I’ve got planned it’s going to take some time.”

“Well if it’s anything like your cookies, it’s going to be delicious.” You couldn’t lie. If no one (including Din) were here, you’d have demolished those cookies in a fucking heartbeat and you could see by the look in her eyes—she knew it.

The conversation continued; their arguments never ceasing and you turned, catching Din’s eye as he shuffled through the box. A picture frame of him and his son sat on his lap—the smile on his face similar to that of Din from the past. You remembered the first time you saw him smile—truly smile—and the sight never left your mind. It stuck to you like glue, tattooing itself onto your skin, because even though he refused to believe it, Din Djarin was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You knew it the moment you walked into the bar and saw him for the first time and you absolutely knew it now.

Heading over to him, you plopped down onto the couch, leaning your head against his shoulder as he rested his chin against your head. It was comfortable having him here in your home like this. Merely sitting beside one another. Sure, the tension still remained and you were eighty percent certain that if no one was here you’d be riding him on the couch, but just doing this was nice too. In fact…you enjoyed it more. He didn’t say anything. You didn’t say anything. And all finally felt right in the world.

Sighing softly, you shut your eyes for a few brief moments, listening to the conversation in the apartment. It all sounded eerily similar to the bar and if you focused hard enough you may be able to smell the familiar scent of liquor, motor oil, and cigarettes. Fuck, you missed his place. You yearned to be back there, serving drinks and catching his gaze across the room as he stood behind the bartop. Eventually everything would end up back there—back where it all began—but now you were simply content to be here.

His fingers trailed along the back of your hand, twinging with your own as the cold press of his rings caused a shiver to go down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb along yours. “For everything.”

You didn’t have to stop yourself from smiling this time. “Careful Romeo. You keep apologizing and I won’t be able to get mad at you the next time we fight.”

He huffed, pressing his lips to your temple as they curved upwards. “That’s the idea sweetheart.”

“Yeah right.” Part of you knew the words you said were right. Except you could still feel the slight sting as a certain memory came back to your mind; forcing you to relive what should have been forgotten by now.

After all, he finally said it. He said he loved you. So why wasn’t that enough? Why were you still wracked with pain every time you wanted to finally give in and love him just as freely as you’d done before? Why…after all this time…were you terrified of being broken again? You knew he wasn’t William—far from it—but that didn’t stop the emotions from rising to the surface. Twisting your heart painfully in your chest as you contemplated what loving him again actually meant to the both of you.

“We’re going to dinner at Poe’s place tonight by the way.”

He shifted back, brown eyes meeting yours and as always your heart fluttered in your chest. “I don’t feel like—”

Pulling him down, you cut him off with a kiss. The conversations ceased to exist, the problems came to a stop, because it was just you and him in your little bubble. He sighed into your mouth, cupping the back of your neck and sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. Things couldn’t go further than this, you knew that, but it still felt euphoric to feel his lips against yours. To kiss him until the air rushed out your lungs and the taste of him was seared on your tongue.

“It wasn’t a question Romeo,” you breathed, slightly dizzy as he pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open and you swore you saw the brown of his pupils grow darker—lust clouding his expression.

“What time do we go?” he asked, relenting swiftly as his eyes zeroed in on you sucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

“7:30.”

He nodded, glancing at the old clock you’d bought at a thrift store in Massachusetts. The both of you had three hours to kill with nothing to do. Showing up to a friend’s dinner empty handed always turned out to be a bad idea in your opinion and it’s not like you could simply grab a bottle from the bar and bring it with you. The cooking abilities you had were limited to breakfast and possibly a nice one serving dinner.

“What’s going on in there?” He tapped your temple lightly, dragging your attention back to him.

While you had grown to read him like a book, he’d always been able to flip through the pages that made up who you were. You felt the faint beginnings of a smile form on your lips as you leaned back against him, your thoughts still spinning with what was happening. Everything occurred so fast you could barely keep up. Shit, you could barely keep up regardless, but with the fire and the feelings—you were trying to keep your head above water while navigating in the dark. You wondered if he could see that. Or if he even felt the same way.

“How’s your cooking skills Romeo?”

“Barely there.” Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he brushed his lips along your wrist. “Should I ask why?”

“It’s rude not to bring food when you’re invited somewhere.”

He chuckled, the sound burrowing deep in your chest, spreading towards the molten heat in your stomach. The control you had on yourself was wavering by the second and he wasn’t helping you in the slightest. Still…you didn’t pull your hand away. You let him press featherlight kisses to your wrist, down your forearm until he reached the juncture of your elbow and worked his way back. It felt nice—as if he was attempting to calm the thoughts in your mind without words.

When it came to Romeo, actions were his go to.

“I don’t think that applies to us, sweetheart.”

“Well it would be nice regardless,” you huffed.

Glancing at him you saw his eyebrows raise. “And who’s going to cook it?”

“I could—”

“No.”

“My cooking is not that bad.”

Another kiss was pressed to your wrist; this one firm. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

He breathed out a laugh that was barely audible. “I did.”

“Djarin I swear—”

His teeth nipping sharply at your skin cut you off as you winced. “Don’t call me that.” He had shifted until his lips were pressed against your ear; the warmth of his breath caressing your cheek.

“Call you what?” You weren’t an idiot. You knew he heard the slight waver in your voice and you also knew…he liked it.

“Djarin,” he replied slowly. The bite in his tone wasn’t meant or even meant to scare you; it was rather to prove that he knew how your insides twisted at the sound and how your walls clenched around nothing. He was toying with you just as he had done before. “Everyone else calls me Djarin. You don’t.”

You smirked, tilting your head until his lips brushed against your cheek. “And here I thought you hated the name Romeo.”

“I never said that sweetheart.” If you moved another inch, his lips would be on yours again, and you never longed for something so much. “I’ll happily let you call me that.” He turned your head for you, the heat of his gaze digging into yours. “As long as you say Din when you scream.”

They were words whispered against your lips; barely audible to even you, but you heard them nonetheless. He was truly trying to fuck with you. Your eyes widened as the words settled into your mind—flashes of that very thing happening over and over again playing through your head. If he looked closely enough, he’d be able to see you reliving each one, and by the slight grin on his face…he knew. You opened your mouth, hoping to come up with a retort hot enough to have him squirming, but he’d officially done it. He’d fried your brain past the point of words let alone coherent thoughts.

“See you tonight lovebirds,” Elora’s voice broke the spell Din had you in, giving you a chance to gather yourself.

Din stood up before you were able to say anything back, saying a polite goodbye to Elora and heading to the kitchen. Still you remained on the couch, his words echoing in your mind as he went through your fridge. Really there was nothing in it—the thought of grocery shopping was further from your mind than it should have been. You could count on one hand what you bought this week and none of it could be used to cook anything.

“What do I cook?” you asked, walking into the kitchen to see him shut the door on a sparse fridge.

“Nothing.”

“Look I can—” Him grabbing his jacket and the keys to his car cut you off. “Leaving me already Romeo?”

The phrase was meant to be harmless—a joke, but seeing him tense, his hand clutching at his keys, made you want to take it back. Fuck. Things were still on edge between the two of you and while he’d apologized through the night, more times than you could count, that didn’t stop the restlessness in your body. It didn’t cease the ache in your chest that refused to fade.

“Bad choice of words,” you said, starting to ramble. “I’m sorry I should have said can I come with you…” Why the fuck were you still talking? He must have known it was a joke…right? He turned around as you apologized for the second time, his eyes bright and yet twisted with a grief he couldn’t yet share with you.

“Sweetheart.” You clamped your mouth shut. “I love you.”

Those words…they would never cease to make your heart flutter, to make you heat up from head to toe until you were sure you’d melt onto the floor.

Smiling, you felt the worries lift off your chest, giving you a chance to breathe again. “I love you too Romeo.”

He stepped forward, gripping your chin lightly and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before backing away towards the door. You didn’t ask him where he was going, didn’t need to, because he’d come back eventually. So, you busied yourself with cleaning up the kitchen—hoping it would throw off your mind from flooding with every manner of filthy thoughts. All of them with Din as the star of the show.

Sure, the words were carved into your skin like a wound that was taking it’s fucking time healing, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him. Only…wanting him is what got you into this mess. You two rushed into a relationship of sorts faster than you should have and before you got to know one another. Now you were doing things the right way. Which continually left you feeling like you’d combust if he looked at you too long.

“Fuck,” you muttered, nearly slicing your finger open on the soapy butter knife. “I need to get laid.”

“Where did you get this?” you asked, eyeing the wooden box that sat in the middle of your living room.

Din walked in an hour after you finished the dishes, carrying a box that looked eerily similar to the ones you used to see at the bar. Only the bar and all the alcohol that remained was burned. Which left you wondering who he paid off to get him this stuff. He cracked it open, pulling out a bottle of whiskey that was immediately familiar to you. The same one that sat empty on the shelf in your bedroom—now a piece of decor—the very same one that still held those charred bills the both of you refused to touch.

“Supplier,” he replied. “He owed me a favor.”

You nodded, knowing it was better not to question his methods. “Tell him thank you from me.”

Handing off the bottle to you, he watched as you placed it on the bookshelf near the television. Right beside a framed picture of you and him that Liv sneaked one night when she visited the bar for the first time. It was two months ago and even in the image you could see how much Din cared for you. The glint in his eye transferred to the glossy paper. You were standing behind the bar, a bottle in your hand as you poured gin into a glass; he leaned next to you, watching you with a smile on his face. You didn’t see her take the picture, never even saw the flash go off, but you thanked her for it every time you glanced in its direction.

“How many bottles are we taking?”

He lifted two out of the crate, setting it down next to the brownies you managed not to burn. “Think that will be enough?”

The way your friends drank, the two bottles would be gone before dinner was even served. Still you nodded, heading towards the bedroom to throw on the sundress you laid out earlier. The weather was becoming warm again; the cold was now vanishing slowly and while you were going to miss it—that didn’t deter you from wearing the oversized leather jacket that was thrown on the chair.

“Thankfully Rey and Elora are cooking,” you called, trying not to trip as you attempted to latch the platform sandals closed. “Poe’s good at making drinks, but I’ve seen him cook and I can definitely say I am bett…”

You trailed off as you walked back to where Din stood, catching the heady look in his eyes. They trailed down your body past the skirt of your dress all the way down to your feet, dragging upwards just as slowly. All the time you spent shoving down the burning heat that built up in your stomach vanished. It rushed through your veins, turning your skin warm as he simply watched you. Before everything, before the pain, he would have simply stated you weren’t going, taking you to bed without any complaints. But now…he waited, held his stance and breathed heavily as his gaze settled on yours.

He knew you weren’t ready for that and this was him respecting that wish. He wouldn’t touch you. Not until you were absolutely sure about him again; until you could finally open your heart to him.

For some unknown fucking reason, that made you want him even more.

Fuck your hormones. They waged a war within your body—turning you into a wilting mess even though he had yet to lay a finger on you.

“Do you like the dress?” you asked.

He grunted in response, turning back to the box, his hands clenching as you walked past him.

Poe’s place was thankfully not far from your own apartment. In a way, you were thankful for the short amount of time you’d have to spend in Romeo’s car, alone with him. You figured it was better that you keep your distance from each other, given how your reputation for holding off on jumping one another was all but disappointing. The next two weeks would be ruthless. What with you helping Liv with the last minute details of the wedding. Thankfully it would keep you busy.

You had yet to confront that one nagging question in the back of your mind. One you were truthfully terrified to even go near, because the answer would determine how you’d feel the next few weeks.

The silence felt comfortable with him—the radio playing the latest songs and the windows rolled down as he took the streets to Poe’s place. People milled about on the streets outside. The city night life came back as the sun dipped beneath the skyline of buildings. You could recall being a part of this crowd, of bar hopping night after night; a time when you were the most lost with no way of finding yourself home. Somehow in the end it brought you to him; stuck you in the center of something beautiful and told you to remain where you were.

It didn’t take you long to figure out that that’s where you belonged in the first place.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked softly. The question was asked more frequently since he’d come back into your life—as if he was terrified of what your answer would be.

Ironic.

You were scared shitless of his own answer.

“I keep thinking…”

You noticed him stiffen in his seat, his left hand tightening on the wheel slightly until his knuckles turned white. He promised he wouldn’t lie to you, wouldn’t keep any secrets from you, and this was one of them. It’s not like he was trying hard to hide it. For the first time, Din was fucking terrified of what you’d say, and somehow it felt nice to come to that realization. Proof that you weren’t entirely alone in this situation.

“Nothing bad I hope,” he said, forcing a smile. But you saw the trepidation in his eyes, the waver in his voice.

He was worried you’d leave again.

That made your heart clench in your chest.

“Liv’s wedding is in two weeks,” you replied, keeping your eyes solely on his, finally reading his reactions as clearly as he read yours.

He’d given you an insight into his mind, told you all his fears, his past, and somehow that opened him up to you in a whole new way. Before, you struggled to even figure out what he was thinking, but now…you knew. You could see it so clearly on his face he didn’t even bother to school his expressions anymore.

“I saw your calendar.” Ah, the one that was hanging up on your wall—Liv’s wedding date marked with a big red circle. “Are you worried about it?”

You shook your head. “I’m actually really excited. It’s been a long time coming and I know that she’s ready to finally get married. But I was thinking…” He sucked in a breath, the leather steering wheel crackling under his grip. You only had a small amount of time to get this question out in the open before heading up to Poe’s for dinner. “I was actually hoping…”

“Sweetheart you’re killing me here,” he groaned, eyes flashing with agony.

A smile crossed your lips as you leaned in closer. “Would you still like to be my date?”

The car fell silent, his eyes turning back to the road as he pulled up to Poe’s apartment building. Your heart lurched in your chest, fear filling your veins as you realized you might have made a mistake. Fuck, you knew you should have waited. All of it was too soon; that damn question was too soon and you let out a shaky breath, turning your head away from him as you blinked quickly to get rid of the oncoming tears.

Please put me out of my misery Romeo, you thought in your head, desperate for him to say something—anything.

“Do you still want me as your date?” he asked.

Your head snapped back to his direction and you finally took in the utter defeat on his face. The pain in his eyes that he pushed away constantly, but you still saw it under the surface—saw how he fought against it. He hadn’t admitted it yet, but you saw it there in his face, heard it in his words loud and clear. He was afraid you still didn’t want him—that one day you’d wake up ready to run out the door and leave him behind.

“Of course I do,” you whispered. “Do you still want to…be with me?”

The question was a double edged sword and you were both dangerously walking on either side, trying to keep it balanced for the first time in a long time.

Did he want you beyond the heartbreak? Did he want to push past what you went through and find your equilibrium again—find the place you called home in this relationship.

His face fell as he took in your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I want to be with you until the day I stop breathing sweetheart.”

“Oh—”

But he wasn’t done. Far from it.

Leaning closer, he cupped your face, twisting in his seat to finally bring his lips close to yours. “Yes I want to be your date to Liv’s wedding. Nothing would have stopped me from going. And yes…I want to be with you in any way you choose to have me. I’m yours baby. Till the end.”

You felt as if the weight pressing down on your chest was suddenly lifted; air filling your lungs with so much air it stung on the way down. Either way you relished in it, because you finally got your answer. Din wanted to be with you. He wanted you. Rather than kiss you on the lips, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine. While the doubts from before began to fade the longer you were with him, you still knew that the both of you had a lot left to work through.

He still had a lot to tell you about who he was before he met you.

“Should we go get yelled at by Poe now?”

You laughed, nodding your head. “Yeah. I think we should.”

He opened his door after one more kiss to your forehead, and walked around to your side, swinging open your door and reaching for your hand. The both of you weren’t prepared for this dinner, but you didn’t really care. Not when Romeo’s hand fit perfectly in yours, his body pressing close to yours as he led you up the stairs of the building. You’d never actually been here before, but seeing how comfortable Din was with maneuvering through the halls, him being here before was in fact true.

The thought of him suffering through heartbreak here surrounded by people who actually cared about him made you feel even lighter.

He had a family that surrounded him—he just needed a good shake to make him realize that.

“This is him,” he said, stopping at a beige colored door with a gold number eight hanging on it.

You could faintly hear music coming from the inside, the echo of voices filtering through the obviously thin door. “No turning back Romeo.”

A grin pulled his lips upward. “Me? Never.”

“Yeah right.”

He leaned over nipping sharply at your ear and eliciting a yelp from you that was no doubt heard from inside. You were about halfway to shoving your fist into his shoulder when the door opened revealing Poe. Of course he had to catch you and Din in yet another slightly compromising position. Din’s lips were attached to your neck, your hand now pressing against his shoulder to steady yourself and you felt the heat creep up the back of your neck. For fucks sake you couldn’t catch a break.

“Please don’t taint my hallway,” Poe said, smirking at the sight of you trying to mask your obvious embarrassed expression.

“Shut up Dameron,” Din replied, his fingers trailing up your back.

Poe’s mouth dropped. “Listen if you’re going to be a dick I’m not even going to consider letting you back in—”

The door was pushed open even wider, revealing Elora in a stunning yellow floor length sundress. “Please. Come in. We just finished cooking.”

You ducked under Poe’s arm, leaving the two men to finish their standoff—the smell of delicious food calling your name. Placing one bottle of whiskey on the table, you took in Poe’s apartment. There was only one bedroom, a small enough kitchen, and a plant on the windowsill—the leaves slightly brown. Overall you’d say it was cozy. A home you could see Poe staying in for quite some time.

Din came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, chin dropping to your shoulder as he placed the second bottle right beside yours.

“It’s a nice place,” you said softly, seeing the living room that consisted of a black couch, a green chair, and a multicolored rug.

He hummed in agreement. “Would you like to live in a place like this?”

Just like in the car, your heart stopped at his words. “I would…one day,” you replied slowly. You weren’t stupid. You knew what he was asking of you, and that caused your insides to melt until you were sure you were a puddle on the floor.

“Hey lovebirds,” Poe called from where he sat at the table in the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

You pulled away, heading towards the chair beside Finn who greeted you with a hug and a promise to talk later. You and him hadn’t really interacted much with him working nonstop at the record shop, but you wanted to get to know him just as much as Poe. Would he like to go out and get some coffee one of these days? Maybe you could invite Rey and Elora as well.

Din took the chair across from you, a small smile on his lips. You were partly grateful that he was seated with enough distance to keep your mind in order, but knowing him…he’d make sitting like this even worse for you. Here you could see his eyes. You still weren’t sure it was a good thing you could read him so clearly, because right now you knew what he was thinking of and none of it made for appropriate dinner party conversation.

“This smells delicious,” you said, eyeing the roast in the center of the table.

Elora smiled. “Thank you. It’s my dad’s recipe.”

The next few minutes were filled with a comfortable silence as each of you passed dishes around, filling up your plates and glasses with enough to satiate the hunger in your stomachs. You shifted in your seat as Din poured you a glass of whiskey, winking at you as he sucked off whatever fell onto his thumb. Fuck, he was truly trying to ruin you right here in the middle of dinner.

You refused to let him get the upper hand.

“So, how is the store going?” you asked Rey, sipping at the whiskey and avoiding Din’s gaze. Even as it burned into the side of your face.

“It’s going well. Lot’s of busy days with all the new music coming out.”

Finn turned to you, sipping on his own glass. “I managed to ask around and some music labels are willing to give us first take of most newer records coming out.”

“Really?” you asked. “That’s amazing!” Din’s foot brushed against yours, but you willed yourself to keep looking at Finn. “Do you work solely at the store or?”

“No, not anymore. I used to, but now it’s part time.”

Poe jumped in. “Don’t be humble man. Finn’s working his way up in the producer world. He’s got a real talent for it.”

“Ah well I’m trying to at least. I’m no you flyboy.” Finn said, smiling as Poe rolled his eyes.

“You never did tell me about your time as a pilot,” you said. “Were you there long?”

“There’s nothing special to tell sweetheart.” Something thumped under the table, causing Poe to wince. You turned to Din, seeing him swallow his whiskey innocently as he set his fork down, watching you with a glint in his eyes that had you shifting in your chair.

“Are you okay?” you asked, returning your attention to Poe.

You would not lose to Din. You’d won before and you could do it again.

“Yeah,” he bit out, shooting a glare Din’s way. “Just hit my knee against the table.”

That was bullshit—you didn’t miss the way Din’s lips quirked into a grin as he winked at you again. You had half a mind to drag him out into the hallway simply to ring his neck and the longer he toyed with you—sending you looks that no doubt had you dripping in your underwear—the closer you were to actually doing it. You knew what this was, why he was acting this way.

What you finally revealed in the car had opened the door even wider on the prospect of a relationship again and Din was doing his best to kick it the rest of the way down.

He was proving to you how much he wanted you.

Conversation continued around you as both you and Din held your very own silent talk. He smiled, leaning his elbows against the table and placing a piece of meat in his mouth—eyes flicking down to the cleavage your dress showed. Not one to be outdone at a game you’d mastered with him, you leaned forward yourself, reaching for the bowl of vegetables.

He swallowed so hard he started to cough.

“Are you okay?” you asked, innocently. Really you were preening under his heated gaze; his eyes narrowed at you as Poe thumped on his back.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

Grabbing the glass of water in front of him, he retained eye contact as he swallowed, your eyes glancing down to his throat. Suddenly you were reminded how much you loved the sight of it—how much you loved to mark it up with your teeth and lips. He set the glass down with enough force to shake the table slightly, his eyes burning a hole into your face with a need that you felt in the very marrow of your bones.

Fuck how would you two make it long enough to talk out your issues when neither of you could control your impulses?

In your small staring contest, you didn’t seem to notice the others had stopped talking, their attention solely on you. Poe dropping his silverware and giving you a glare snapped you out of your reverie. He coughed, downing his glass of whiskey and pouring another one—laughing to himself about something. Seeing him this way slightly scared you in all honesty. What had you and Din done wrong? You felt like you were about to be reprimanded by your parents for doing something bad at the dinner table.

This wasn’t entirely far from the truth though.

“Poe?” you asked hesitantly.

“Unbelievable.”

“Dameron,” Din said a little harshly, even you winced.

“Don’t you Dameron me you dick.” Poe downed the second glass of whiskey. “You promised me that you’d fix it, that things would change once you got her back.”

You reared back, your eyes no doubt as wide as saucers. “What is he talking about Din?”

“I’m not going to explain myself to you,” Din replied smoothly, setting his glass down as Poe continued to glare at him with enough anger that you were sure Din would be six feet under had Poe been holding a weapon.

You had half a mind to take away the knife beside his right hand.

“No?” Poe began to laugh, his expression scaring the absolute shit out of you. So much so that you started to reach for him only to have Finn stop you. “You don’t want to explain yourself when I let you stay here? When it was me and Finn and Rey and Elora who made sure you didn’t kill yourself with alcohol poisoning?” You winced, feeling your heart twist violently in your chest, but Poe was far from being done. “I can’t believe you two haven’t figured out your issues yet and that you’re still playing this cat and mouse game.”

“Poe—” you started.

“And you.” He averted his glare to you. “I know you’re scared of being with him again, but fucking hell sweetheart—” He turned to Din. “You kick me again for calling her that and I’m going to put my knife in your foot.” Once again his eyes were back on you. “You are so in love with him it’s actually sickening to see it with my own two eyes. I swear if you don’t figure out your shit, the next time I see you I’m locking you two in a room together.”

“Poe—”

“Don’t Poe me. I’ve had to endure listening to you two fuck in so many different places I have actual nightmares about it now, but you know what. I will sacrifice myself one more time and risk hearing you two get it on if it means you will stop eye fucking each other at my table while I’m trying to eat.”

With a final glare in both your directions, he resumed eating his dinner as if nothing interesting happened. As if he hadn’t just shook you and Din so hard with his words that it jarred you out of your fearful states. Were you inevitably going to end up with Din? Yes. You knew this with everything in your being. What you didn’t know was why you were stalling to get to your happily ever after.

Why were you two so hesitant to jump in like you’d done before?

It wasn’t the heartbreak, because if anything that simply made the both of you stronger. So what kept you back? You tried to wrack your brain for any type of answer and could only come up with one that sounded the most reasonable. You were both so terrified of being hurt again that you held off on actually experiencing that happiness you once had again. Maybe that’s what hurt the most. Neither of you could remember what that feeling of pure bliss in a relationship felt like.

Your apartment door shut with a resounded thud, shutting out the rest of the world until it was just you and Din standing in your kitchen. The dinner had gone smoothly enough after Poe’s reprimanding. You laughed until you couldn’t breathe, reminisced on times at the bar, and felt like you gained three new friends. Poe had calmed down after his third glass of whiskey, but his words still rang loudly in your head.

“That was some night huh,” you said, pulling your heels off and settling on the couch.

He collapsed beside you with a sigh. “I feel like I just got yelled at by a teacher.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Din’s hand reached for yours, his fingers intertwining with your own. “He was right, you know,” you said softly.

“He shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No,” you smiled. “I mean he was right about us.” Din froze, his eyes holding you in a gaze you had no intention of running from. Not this time. “I think we were so lost in our own pain and so focused on finding a way back to each other, that we never figured out a way to find our way back to ourselves.”

He lifted your hand, kissing the back of it just as he had done earlier in the day. A small sign of reassurance—a way to calm your aching heart—and it worked like a charm. You knew without a doubt in your mind, you wanted to be with Din, but you also knew…you had no idea who you were without him. The memory of you being single, being happy and free, had vanished to the very back of your mind.

“So where does that leave us?” he asked, brown eyes delving into yours.

Exhaling, you felt your heart twist. “Maybe…” Fuck you didn’t want to do this. “Maybe we should take these two weeks to try and remember who we are.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He said the words quicker than he could take a breath. Just hearing that managed to calm the racing of your heart, the worries that plagued your mind.

“I don’t want you to.”

“But…”

“But I don’t want you to forget who Din is, who you used to be before me. The bartender who I fell in love with. And I don’t want to forget who I was. I went from one relationship right into the next without ever figuring out who I had shaped up to be. I’d like to meet her.”

He nodded, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’ll do whatever you want sweetheart. I’d do anything to make this work.”

“There’s going to be some ground rules,” you said with a smile, enjoying the slight shift of annoyance on his face.

“Okay…”

“No kissing.” His lips slotted over yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Din,” you gasped, pulling away.

He sighed. “You really are trying to kill me.”

“Listen Romeo. You and I both know we can barely keep our hands to ourselves long enough to actually talk and I think we need to start agreeing to be friends before we jump back into a long term relationship.” You tried to maintain your composure, the seriousness in your voice bringing a smile to his face. What did you say that was funny? “And you’re smiling because…”

“You’re hot when you’re bossy.”

“Fuck you Din.” You shoved his shoulder.

“I’m listening,” he replied, pressing his nose to your cheek. “I swear. What are the other rules?”

“What happened tonight at dinner will not be happening again. No teasing okay? We have to at least try.”

“I can’t promise that.”

You huffed. “Din.”

“I’ll do it…for you.” He pressed another kiss to your hand. “Two weeks?”

Nodding, you figured the timeline matched up perfectly. Liv’s wedding would just be the time to hit reboot on your relationship. For two weeks you’d be friends again and begin to formulate a relationship that wasn’t based solely on need and sex. No, this one would be based on love—something you were looking forward to.

“Two weeks,” you responded, reaching your hand out to shake on it.

He dragged you forward by the nape of your neck instead, pressing his lips to yours and licking into your parted mouth as you gasped. He tasted like whiskey and you sighed into the kiss, digging a hand into his hair in order to keep him closer. Sure, it was going against the already set rules, but if you were going two weeks cold turkey…you needed a quick reminder of what you were working towards again. You moaned when he nipped at your lip, licking along it to soothe the ache before pulling away entirely—a flushed look on his face.

“Deal,” he breathed, standing up from the couch with one last look, leaving you there to sit on the couch.

Two weeks…of being friends with Din.

You were fucked.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin #1980s!din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian #black velvet #my writing #happy christmas eve eve #i don't know why i'm nervous posting this

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