#yes I’m still thinking about the chapter

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers

Chapter Four -

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.

warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.

wc: 10k

authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar

series masterlist | series playlist

songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.

Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you. 

¨Shit.¨ 

Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch. 

A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm. 

A metal chain.

The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington. 

“No, no, no, no.”

The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee. 

There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do. 

Say no.

You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run. 

You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack. 

Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest. 

Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.

Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.

Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.

Why is Eddie not here? 

You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward. 

He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.

The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer. 

Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again. 

Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.

”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?” 

The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.

Point one - you.

Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.

Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.

”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.” 

Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.

“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”

“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”

“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.” 

You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.

“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”

It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.  

“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.

”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”

The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.

”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.

“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck. 

”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes. 

Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.

“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”

It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.

“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.” 

The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.

“So!”  You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.” 

Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night. 

“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole. 

“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”

 “No.”

“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.

”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.

You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.

”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”

The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.

”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”

Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.

”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.

“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”

”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!” 

A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.

”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.

“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.” 

“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.” 

Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.

”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.

“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”  

Two can play that game.

He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”

Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.

Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.

The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.

His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this. 

“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.

He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.

”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.

“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.

“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.

”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.

Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.

“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”

The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.

“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.

The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.

”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”

Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.

“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”

His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.

“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”

Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.

“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.” 

His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:

”Y- you wish it was that easy.”

Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral. 

“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.

He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.

“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place. 

Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.

When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. 

His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.

Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.

“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over. 

Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?” 

His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”

“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”

His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.

Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.

”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”

His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.

The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.

“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”

Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.

He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long. 

Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself. 

”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head. 

The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again. 

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.

You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more. 

Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing. 

“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.

”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.

He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them. 

Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.

“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”

His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore. 

“I really want it.” 

The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.

“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”

Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights. 

He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away. 

”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.

“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.

”Steve!” 

Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.

“It feels, you feel -“

A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind. 

His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.

”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.

The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth. 

It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.

Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.

”Oh my god!”  You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.

“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.

Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes. 

“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.

Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder. 

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.

A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.

The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.

Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car. 

“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.

“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.

”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.

It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in. 

He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not. 

Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.

”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.

You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps. 

“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”

Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.

“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.

”I told you he’s like 19 - “

”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.

”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.

”I should go before Robin -“

”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.” 

“Steve.”

”Honey.”

The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests. 

“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.

“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.

”I’m not letting you walk home.”

“It’s down the road-“

“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.” 

You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.

It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.

You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.

”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.

He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him. 

His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view. 

But he never stops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past. 

“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”

Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks. 

“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.

”I think you like it.” 

You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.

”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”

‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’

“Take me somewhere with fries.”

When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land. 

God, this was not a part of the plan.

“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.

“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.

“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”

You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner. 

“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.

”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.

”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.

”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.

“I can’t stand you.”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration. 

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.

”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.” 

You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.

”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“

”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently. 

”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”

”Steve-“

“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.

“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”

He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.

”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”

He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you. 

Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning. 

It didn’t matter though, he got his date. 

And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.

🌻chapter five

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #mechanic!steve #mechanic!eddie

[dancingtotuyo]

11. up from the dust, inconceivable love

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)

Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 5352

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief. 

“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open. 

You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders. 

“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.” 

Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?” 

“Willow.”

Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”

“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”

“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”

You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.

“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles. 

“Neither is Willow.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”

“Would you leave if I said yes?”

Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement. 

You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it. 

You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace. 

“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”

You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”

“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it. 

“Sarah.”

His head snaps up. 

“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”

You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours. 

“What about Willa?”

You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.” 

“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.

“Miles is an old man's name!”

“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”

You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it. 

Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”

“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them. 

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.

“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared. 

“We’re getting close… We need a crib.” 

“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”

“I can bring it down in the morning.”

“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.” 

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.

You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before. 

A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops. 

Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy. 

“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath. 

“Ellie is gone.”

You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”

Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests. 

“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you. 

His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back. 

“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“

“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”

“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.” 

Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult. 

“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.” 

Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom. 

It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain. 

“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”

You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.

“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”

Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”

You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.

“I have to go after her.”

There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”

He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”

You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”

Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”

He rides out thirty minutes later. 

You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs. 

Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back? 

The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.  

Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it. 

You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality? 

You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you. 

On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived. 

“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes. 

“What?” 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.

“He killed them! All of them!” 

“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”

“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”

Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind. 

“So he lied to you too!”

“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway. 

She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders. 

“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time. 

“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”

“They were going to kill you!”

Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.

“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house. 

Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much. 

Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”

“You lied to her.”

“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!” 

“They were going to kill her!”

“Have you listened to anything she’s said?” 

You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living. 

“I couldn’t lose her!” 

“Except you did!”

Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”

“You’re missing the point!”

“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!” 

Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”

He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”

“Joel!”

“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.” 

He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.

Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there. 

He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going. 

There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol. 

He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.  

His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you. 

Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another. 

She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth. 

I’ll go back, but we’re done.

Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him. 

Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him? 

Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows. 

The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open. 

Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out. 

It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”

“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.” 

He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”

You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.” 

“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I think you missed most of it.”

“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”

“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”

“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says. 

“She?” 

“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.

For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water. 

You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs. 

“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”

Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin. 

After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly. 

“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”

“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”

Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”

“Joel…”

Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”

“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“I wish you would’ve told me.”

“I know.”

“This only works if we’re open with each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”

Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”

You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.

“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.” 

“And we’re both okay.”

He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred. 

You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away. 

Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose. 

“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”

His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”

“You were going through my things, I see.”

“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.” 

Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”

“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers. 

Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name. 

She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled. 

“You can come in.”

The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.

 “Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.” 

“You want to meet her?” you ask. 

Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you. 

“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks. 

Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”

Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa. 

“You can get closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I never got to hug you earlier.” 

She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.

“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”

Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does. 

“What’s her name?” Ellie asks. 

“Willa,” you reply. 

“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly. 

And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal. 

Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her. 

“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.

Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?” 

Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”

“Good.” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.  

The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice. 

“Do you like the butterflies?” 

You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still. 

“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”

She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer. 

“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.

“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent. 

“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”

You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile. 

He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you. 

His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”

“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair. 

“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”

“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her. 

Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one. 

Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.” 

“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”

“I did.” He kisses your forehead. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

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#woman (joel miller) #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories #ppcu fanfiction #em's fics

[suguwu]

MOON EATER I THREE

"But truly, Master Diluc—why am I here?"

"I would wed you," he says, flexing his hands in his lap. "If you are amenable to it."

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

masterlist

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x f!reader

notes: i've been sitting on this chapter for a while, so i'm excited to send it out in the world!

content: marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, jealousy, some jeanlisa if you squint.

wc: 4k

The winery is almost entirely empty when Diluc steps inside after you. Jean is corralling the few stragglers, giving quiet orders to the remaining knights, her blue eyes as gentle as the summer sky. She’s in ceremonial wear and it hones her; he thinks of a sheathed blade. 

“Jean,” he says. “You don’t need to do that.” 

She turns to face him, a soft smile curling up on her lips. There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, the color of the pearly dawn. It’s the one she gains when she’s caught doing something she knows she shouldn’t.

(“Father,” Diluc said, innocent as a newborn fawn as Jean and Kaeya shifted at his side.  “You wanted to see us?”

His father eyed them with a raised brow. “I don’t suppose the three of you know anything about the pie that went missing from the kitchen.” 

Kaeya fidgeted with his sleeve, his slender fingers working at the cuff of it. Diluc elbowed him in the ribs subtly. “No, Father,” he said.

His father studied each of them carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, Diluc saw the blush rising to Jean’s cheeks, a soft pink that was slowly darkening. 

“Jean?” his father asked.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out, and Diluc groaned.)

“I was just helping—”

“Jean. You don’t need to help.” 

She bites at her lip and Diluc softens. He’d forgotten how much she needed to feel useful. But this close, he can see the bags under her eyes, the deep blue-gray of a stormcloud. “My staff has it under control,” he says. “And you’re a guest.” 

“But—”

“Go home and rest.” 

“I can still—”

“Jean.” 

“Alright,” she says quietly. “I just need to give a few more orders, that’s all.”

He nods and starts to step away.

“Diluc?”

When he turns to face her, he takes a sharp breath. There’s something like sorrow shining through her expression, something bone-deep carved into the curve of her mouth.

“Is this really what you wanted?” she asks. Her voice is gentle, but she’s watching him carefully, her gaze a comet streaking through the sky, the blue of it cutting through the heavens’ tender underbelly. It cuts through him, too.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says after a moment.  

Jean smiles, starshine at dawn, a slow fade of light. “I thought you might say that.”

Diluc stays quiet, meeting her gaze steadily. 

“You’re as stubborn as ever,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is fond. 

“Master Diluc? Stubborn? Perish the thought,” Lisa says as she joins them, wrapping her shawl around her pale shoulders. 

Jean heaves out a beleaguered sigh, but she can’t quite hide the twitch of her lips.

Lisa laughs, light and tinkling, looping her arm through Jean’s. “Come on, darling,” she says. “Let’s let the newlyweds have their night, yes?” She throws Diluc a bold wink. 

Heat scorches across his cheeks, a supernova burn. He’s able to disguise his choke as a cough at the last second, though from the glimmer in Lisa’s jade eyes, he hasn’t hidden it well enough. 

“Lisa!” Jean scolds.

The mage laughs again. She’s every inch the cat who got the canary, her lips curling into a delighted little smile. 

“Goodnight, Diluc,” Jean says, all but dragging Lisa away. Lisa lets herself be led, snuggling in close to the blonde as they leave. It smushes some of the roses in her hair, but she doesn’t seem to care that she’s leaving a trail of petals behind. Diluc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry about her,” you say as you join him. “She’s a handful.”

“I’m aware.” 

You laugh, picking a cecilia out of your hair and rolling the short stem between your palms. The bloom whirls with it, a ballerina’s tulle skirt, a light dusting of pollen floating down from it to tint your fingers gold. It catches the light as you raise your hand to cover your yawn.

Diluc frowns. “You should go to bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day.” 

You hum. “It has been,” you say. “I don’t suppose you intend to sleep soon?”

“I need to speak with Adelinde.” 

“Alright,” you say. “Good night, then.”

“Good night.” 

He watches you go upstairs, the hem of your dress flowing behind you, a silken spill of moonlight. 

You don’t look back. 

He turns on his heel. Finding Adelinde is easy; she’s in the midst of giving orders to some of the staff. She hands off a mostly-empty platter of tiny, delicate golden-brown pastries to Hillie when she sees him.

“Master Diluc.”

“Adelinde,” he says. “How is the clean up going?”

“We’ll be done with the food soon. The rest can wait until morning, I believe.” 

“Good.”

Adelinde pauses. She looks at him for a moment; her jade eyes have a knife’s edge to them, her gaze an autopsy cut. Her lips draw tight, a wound of a mouth. “You mean to go out tonight.”

“Yes.”

“If I may, Master Diluc,” she says, “you now have a wife.”

“That has no bearing in this. The Knights will be lax tonight, lulled into complacency by the celebration. I heard a few mention continuing at Angel’s Share after they return to the city. I cannot leave Mond unprotected.” 

Adelinde does not frown. Instead, her face smooths out into an impenetrable mask, porcelain breathed to life. “Very well,” she says. “At least wait until she’s asleep.” 

“The sooner I leave—”

“At least wait until she’s asleep,” she says, voice sharp. “It is your wedding night.”

“When she’s asleep,” he allows.

Adelinde nods. “Goodnight, Master Diluc.”

“Goodnight, Adelinde.” 

He goes upstairs quietly. There’s a soft light filtering from under the door to your room. He sighs and heads into the master bedroom, settling at the small desk in front of the windows. He lights the candles with a flick of his wrist; the flames devour the wick, leaping high before settling into a low, sweet glow. He’s just beginning to shuffle through a few papers when one of the hallway floorboards groans, a warning song.

“Diluc,” you say from the doorway. The candlelight barely reaches you there; it casts you into shadows, a new moon’s outline against the velvet of the sky. “May I come in?”

He stands. “Yes,” he says. “What is it?”

You step inside. The cecilias are gone from your hair, but you’re still wearing your dress. Your smile is a bit sheepish, but there’s a secret tucked up in the corner of it. “My dress,” you say. “The maids are all so busy. Can you undo the top few buttons for me?”

“I—what?”

“It’s hard to undo them from this angle,” you say. “Please?”

He takes a breath. “Alright.” 

You turn as he steps closer, the delicate train of the dress swirling at your feet, a whirlpool of silk. It exposes the line of buttons marching down the back of your dress, rigid against the soft flow of the fabric. 

The buttons are tiny things, pearls that shine like little moons even in the low light. He bites back a curse as they slip against the leather of his gloves. He tries again, gently tugging on a button, but it refuses to come out of the loop holding it tight. He changes the angle, but it’s no use; he runs afoul of the slick surface again and again. He huffs in annoyance and bites at the tip of his index finger to peel off his glove, letting it drop to the ground.

He tries again and finally, the button slips free of the little loop. The fabric separates. His fingertips—rough, heavy with scars from burns and blades alike—brush against the cool slope of your back, skin against skin. He goes still. 

You glance at him over your shoulder. You’re still shadow-kissed, but your eyes gleam in the dim.

(“Forgive my forwardness,” you said. “But there is the small matter of lovers.”

Diluc coughed. He glanced at you and saw no hint of a joke. “I beg your pardon?”

“Lovers,” you said, that rosebud smile rising to your lips, petals yet unfolded. “If you should take one, I only ask that you be discreet. I would do the same, of course.” 

Something in Diluc’s chest went cold. It was bone-deep, as if the Dragonspine winds were cutting through him. “You would take a lover?”

“I do not know the future,” you said. “But if I should, I would be discreet, as I said. Is that alright?” 

Diluc took a deep breath. “If you wish it, I would hardly stop you.”

You inclined your head to him with a little smile. You moved on to another topic like a river current, slow but inexorable. Diluc barely heard any of it, your voice muffled, as if you were speaking underwater. He only came back to himself as you gathered your things and bid him farewell. 

“Master Diluc,” you said at the door. He glanced up at you, your features softened in the light streaming in through the windows. “I should mention that I would not mind you in my bed instead of a lover.” 

Diluc choked.

By the time he recovered enough to speak, you were already gone.)

He undoes another button. Then a third, and a fourth, each little pearl slipping from its loop with ease. His thumb traces over the salt of your skin until it slips just beneath the fabric. He pulls just enough for the gap between the fabric to widen. He drags his thumb along the crescent moon sliver of revealed skin; a callus catches against you. You take in a sharp breath.

Diluc pulls back as if burned.

“There,” he says, clearing his throat, his cheeks hot. He knows they’ve gone scarlet, that there’s a deep flush painted over his whole face. “They’re undone.”

“Thanks,” you say, glancing over your shoulder once more. Your lashes catch the shadows like a spider’s web. It only serves to better illuminate your eyes. He swallows. 

“You’re welcome.”

You study him for a moment before you smile, as soft as the breaking dawn. “Goodnight,” you say.

“Goodnight.” 

The door clicks shut behind you. Diluc listens as your quiet footsteps fade away; there’s a distant thud as the door to your room closes too. He sighs, leaning down to pick his glove up off the floor. He slides it back on as he crosses to his closet. The night is still young and he knows what he must do.

When he’s dressed, he opens the secret compartment to his desk. He stares down at the owl mask that’s ensconced there. It gleams in the low light, the severe point of its beak a wicked hook. Diluc tucks it away under his cloak before he opens the window. 

With the lush vines clinging to the winery walls, it’s an easy climb down. He looks up when he reaches the bottom. There’s still a light glowing faintly in your window. His chest aches, as if a ribbon is tightening around it, but he ignores it and slips on the mask.

He has work to do.

—

Morning comes far too soon.

Diluc’s room is still steeped in blue, but the promise of morning is apparent on the horizon where golden fingers of light are reaching into the sky, scraping their way through the darkness. The birds are just beginning to stir, their chirps still subdued, a few plucked notes before the melody. 

It feels like Diluc has just only collapsed into bed, but the stars that had been watching over him when he stole back into his room have gone out, fading beneath the dawn. He sits up and scrubs a hand over his face, wincing as it pulls at the fresh set of lilac bruises blooming on his right side. He prods at them carefully. 

The ache sinks its teeth in as he brushes his fingertips along the biggest of them. It’s still darkening, a galaxy caught under his skin. It remains tender as he gets ready for the day; it takes effort to not compensate for it in his movement. 

By the time Diluc heads downstairs, the winery is already stirring to life. A few maids scurry past him; he can hear the vineyard workers starting to make their way through the vines, checking them after the harvest. But most of the activity is centered in the heart of the winery, where the remnants of your wedding reception are. He watches as two of the servants unhook a floral garland from the rafters, petals raining down beneath them. The petals whirl through the air like snowflakes, thick and white, and Diluc brushes one off when it lands on his shoulder. He’s in the middle of plucking another out of his mass of crimson hair when the floorboards whisper your arrival. 

“Oh,” you say. “They’re taking them down already? A shame.”

He glances at you. “I am sure Adelinde would be open to keeping them up, should you wish it.”

“It’s fine. I just thought they might keep them up a little longer while they’re fresh.” 

“I see.” 

You reach out and let a petal drift into your hand. It’s a little bruised at the edges from being shaken loose, but you don’t seem to mind. 

“Do you think I could have a few for my room?” you ask.

“A few—”

“Flowers,” you say. “I’m sure many of them are still intact even after the garlands are taken down.”

“Of course. Any that you would like.” 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed,” he says, adjusting his cuff. “It’s—this is your home too, now.” 

You pause. When you look at him, he can’t quite make sense of your expression. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I suppose it is.”

“I hope you will be comfortable here.”

You smile, the slow rise of a crescent moon. “I’m sure I will be. Though I intend to return to Liyue soon.”

“Of course. Do you know when?”

“I expect that I’ll return within the week.”

“Oh? That’s later than I expected.”

“So eager to be rid of me?”

Diluc flushes, the heat of it spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “No, I—”

“I’m only teasing,” you say. “I haven’t been back to Mond in a while. There are some things I should handle in person.” 

“I see.”

You examine him for a moment. Whatever you see must satisfy you, for you glance back at the workers, still diligently undoing the reception decor, autumn come indoors, the flowers stripped away to reveal bare wood. A petal flutters down into your hair; Diluc thinks of the gentle fall of snow. He starts to raise his hand to pluck it out but you shift and the petal drifts to the ground. He halts before tugging at his glove instead.

“Now,” you say, turning back to him, “I need something to eat. Will you be joining me for breakfast?”

Diluc shakes his head. “The vintners asked for me today,” he says. “The earlier I can speak with them the better.” 

You hum. “Okay. Have a good day.”

“You as well.” 

You flash a small smile before inclining your head to him. “Husband,” you say. You dart off before he can respond. He watches you disappear, the moon dipping below the horizon. 

Husband, he thinks. 

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to that.

—

The days roll by. Diluc buckles down to work, caught up in the hubbub of the end of the harvest season. He oversees the grape crushing, the little fruits popping beneath the press until they’re must, all pulp and juice. A few small buckets of grapes are set aside for the children of the workers; they’ll stomp them to their hearts’ content, their chiming laughter drifting through the vines as they cling to each other for balance, their little feet dyed dark.

(“C’mon, Luc!” Kaeya cried, already scrambling towards the tub filled with ruby-red grapes. His eye was shining, starlight bright, a grin spread wide across his face, his usual reticence washed away. Diluc knew it was his favorite time of year; the other boy loved every moment of the harvest season and all that came with it.

 “Hurry up!” Kaeya called. He had already rolled up his pant legs and stepped into the tub, his face lit with joy, a summer sun in the autumn chill.

Diluc huffed but climbed in after him. The grapes popped beneath his weight, squishing up between his toes, a pulpy mess of skin and seeds. He stomped once, twice, and felt more of them burst. 

Kaeya reached for his hand; Diluc twined their fingers together and held on tight as the scrawny boy started to jump in place. Kaeya laughed wildly, the sound picked up by the wind and carried away like seeds. He jumped again and almost slipped. Diluc caught him at the last minute, hauling him up with a giggle. They joined hands again and began to twirl in a circle, stomping away as they went.

They laughed as they spun around together, holding on tight to each other as juice started to gather beneath their feet. Their skin went purple with it, a galaxy splashed up to their calves. The golden afternoon sun shone down on them; sweat gathered on their brows. But they kept going and going, unrelenting until the last of the grapes had burst beneath their feet.

They panted as they climbed to the side of the tub. Kaeya sat on the edge of it, swinging his feet as the maids went to gather towels for them. He was incandescent with delight, a shooting star streaking across the night sky, and Diluc grinned. 

“Good work, boys,” his father said, coming down the path. He’d clearly met the maids halfway; there were towels slung over his broad shoulder.

Diluc puffed up with pride; next to him, Kaeya smiled, shy but pleased. His father handed them the towels and watched as they wiped their feet clean.

“Ready for the next step?” his father asked. 

Kaeya nodded eagerly, but Diluc balked.

“Can’t we stomp more grapes?” he asked.

His father laughed, as warm as the sun. “Maybe later,” he said. “But now you need to learn what happens next.”

Diluc sighed.

“C’mon, Luc,” Kaeya said, bumping his shoulder against Diluc’s. “There’s always tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Diluc said. “There is.”)

Diluc sighs, nodding to Connor as he takes his leave. He heads back to the winery; a few of the workers call out greetings, but no one tries to stop him.

Adelinde appears as soon as he steps inside the winery. She inclines her head to him, her hands clasped in front of her. “Master Diluc,” she says.

“Adelinde,” he greets. 

“Is everything in order?”

“Yes,” he says. “Everything is ready for processing. It was a good harvest.” 

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’ll take some of Elzer’s work with the Wine Guild so he can concentrate on processing. If you see him, please let him know.”

Adelinde purses her lips. “Master Diluc, Elzer is perfectly capable of handling both. You have enough on your plate.”

“My decision is final, Adelinde.”

She examines him for a moment, her jade eyes sharp, a flaying gaze. “You don’t need to make amends for your absence,” she says. “That is the past.” 

Diluc flinches. Adeline watches him steadily, her face impassive, but her eyes have softened, have crinkled around the edges, sweetly fond. He flexes his hand, searching for words, but his tongue is leaden in his mouth.

Adelinde takes pity on him. “The vineyard workers are starting the fertilization process today and tomorrow,” she says. “Is there anything you wish to let them know?”

“No. I trust them.”

“Good.”

Diluc adjusts his cuff. “Is that all?”

She smooths her hands over her uniform skirt, as if erasing wrinkles that aren’t there. “Your wife’s travel arrangements are complete. She means to leave tomorrow.” 

He nods. “Where is she now?”

“She went to the Dandelion Sea, I believe.”

“By herself?”

“She has an escort. One of the knights. Though it is my understanding that the knight would not be able to return with her due to a patrol.” 

Diluc rolls his shoulders, trying to loosen the broad line of them. “When did they leave?”

The corners of Adelinde’s lips creep upwards, an ivy tendril curve, barely noticeable. “A few hours ago.”

He nods curtly. “Thank you, Adelinde.”

“Of course, Master Diluc.” She disappears, light on her feet despite her heels, barely a whisper of sound to accompany her.

Diluc leaves the winery to head to the stables.

—

The Dandelion Sea stretches vast, the flowers rippling in the breeze like waves lap at the shore. The sun is high in the sapphire sky, a halo burning bright, the dandelions stark white under its kiss. There are seeds floating through the air, faintly glowing, scattered like falling stars. 

Diluc ties his horse to a tree, leaving her to graze on some long grass, and begins to make his way into the Sea. More seeds come loose, dancing around him like snowflakes; they settle into his mane of hair, the crimson of it bleeding to something darker against the soft white of them. They catch on his jacket, too, dotting the ebony cloth until it’s a glittering night sky. 

It doesn’t take him long to find you. He can see faint figures at the edge of the Sea, where the trees cast shadows, a sweet pool of shade. He heads towards you as the breeze picks up. It carries a peal of laughter to him, bright as the sun, swirling around him. 

“Oh,” you say as he draws close, standing up before he can stop you.

The knight you’re with comes to attention—far too late. “M—Master Diluc,” he stammers. 

Diluc clicks his tongue. The knight goes shame-faced, glancing away from his thunderous visage. 

You smile, a glaze lily unfolding under the moon’s tender touch. You touch the knight’s vambrace lightly before turning to Diluc. His gaze stays on where you’re touching the knight still, your fingertips lingering against the metal of his armor.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” you say. “Is something wrong?”

Diluc blinks, vermilion eyes flickering back to you. “No.”

You pause, as if waiting for something. Diluc blinks again. Your smile flickers, a guttering candle. The knight shifts in place.

Diluc turns his attention to him. “You can go,” he says curtly. 

“But—”

“You have patrol soon, don’t you, Anselm?” you ask. “You should head out.” 

Anselm glances at you. “Oh. Of course.”

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” you say. “It’s appreciated.”

The knight nods, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. He gives you the Ordo’s salute. “Let the wind lead,” he says before turning to leave.

Diluc doesn’t bother to watch him go; he keeps his gaze on you. That rosebud smile blooms on your lips again, as inevitable as the sun’s rise. “Poor Anselm,” you say. “You have quite the scowl, Master Diluc.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. “Was he going to leave you here alone?”

You sigh. “It’s perfectly safe here.”

“So he was.”

“You’re here now,” you say. “So it hardly matters.”

Diluc bristles. “It matters to me. The Knights have their duties—”

“They cannot attend to every single civilian. The roads to the Sea have been clear for weeks, anyway. Or did you see something on your way?”

He furrows his brow and sets his jaw. “No.”

“The Knights aren’t as incapable as you think,” you say softly. You peer at him through the fan of your eyelashes, the shadow cast by them soft against your cheeks. “And besides, as I said, you’re here now. I know you’ll keep me safe.” 

Diluc takes in a sharp breath. He tugs at his glove and glances away.

You don’t seem to notice. Your attention has returned to the Dandelion Sea. The meadow sways gently in the wind, a honey-slow shiver. You trace a finger over a dandelion; it stays whole despite your touch, the Anemo energy holding it together brightening for a breath before it fades again, a firefly glow.

But when you flop into them, the dandelions puff up, the seeds scattering like starfall. They yield to you like a blessing, giving you everything they have. The seeds catch in your hair, your clothing, your eyelashes. You turn your face up to the sky, the sun bathing you golden.

It strikes Diluc that you are pretty. 

(Burnished by the light, you were lost amid the golden leaves of the sandbearer tree. You climbed and climbed until you were shining bright in the cerulean sky, a sun all your own. Diluc watched from the ground, mouth agape.

When you glanced down, the shadows crossed your face in bold strokes. It softened you, blurred the edges of you. Except for your smile. Your smile cut through the shadows like a single stark slash of a sun-bright knife.

Diluc looked up at you, at that smile, and suddenly, he knew what pretty meant.

It meant you.)

It’s not the first time he’s realized it, but it feels new. It’s in the curve of your back, a cathedral nave of muscle and bone; it’s in the way the sun filters through the leaves to touch you like a lover, a stained-glass kiss. The dandelion seeds catch on your eyelashes like moonlight, and it hits him again: you’re pretty. 

And you’re his.

He pushes the thought away. You might be his, but it’s in name only. He knows better than to assign meaning to it. There’s nothing between the two of you aside from a certificate with your signatures upon it. 

But that’s fine.

That’s all he needs it to be.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #bee writes genshin #fic: moon eater

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (7)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (6)

“Dean, a word,“ you square your jaw watching your son show Dean all the cars on his shelves. Dean doesn’t hear you, engrossed in listening to his son’s explanations. “DEAN!”

“Mommy, we are busy here. We are talking about manly cars,” your son huffs and turns his attention toward the stranger he let inside your house.

“Bud, you shouldn’t talk like that to your mom,” Dean sternly says. “We can talk about your cars later.”

“Promised?” Your son sniffles when Dean turns around to walk out of his room.

“Promised, bud,” Dean looks over his shoulder and nods. “We will talk about your cars as long as you want to.”

“COOL!” Your son clasps his hands together and grins. “You’re so cool, Mr. Dean!”

Dean chuckles, and you get even madder. How dare he come here and play the cool guy. Of course, your son is all over Dean. He has no clue that the very same man left you and his son when things got complicated.

“There you are,” Sam joins you and Dean. He still holds the toad in his hands, helplessly lifting the poor thing. “What do we do with that toad now?”

“TOADIE!” Your son shoves you out of his way to snatch the toad out of Sam’s hands, but Sam lifts the toad so Michael can't reach it. “I’ll show you my room now.”

“Great,” you glare at Sam. “Why didn’t you put it in the garden, Samuel Winchester? Now I’ll never get rid of that thing!” You jerk your head toward Dean. “And there is the toad.”

Sam snorts. “I can bring the toad in the garden. My brother is another story,” he sighs deeply. “Again. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“HEY! Sasquatch,” your son grunts and tugs at Sam’s jacket, “give me back my toad. Toadie is my friend, and you can’t have him.” Michael purses his lips and holds out his hand. “Give him back!”

“Michael, stop that,” you tut. “We don’t yell at guests. Sam will bring the toad back into the garden. Toadie wants to go home. Our home isn’t their home.”

Your son pouts. His lips wobble, and he sniffles silently. “I wanna keep Toadie!” He grasps Dean’s hand, tugging lightly. “Mr. Dean, please tell Mommy that a man must have a toad. All the cool guys have toads.”

Dean looks at your son holding his hand. A smile crosses his face, and he holds his hand a little tighter. “Sammy will bring the toad to the garden. If Toadie wants to stay, he’ll wait for you in the garden. But maybe he’s got a family and wants to go home.”

“You think so?” Michael sniffs. He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and sniffles. “But…I’ll miss him. He’s my friend.”

“He’ll always be your friend, bud,” Dean crouches down in front of your son. “Sometimes we must let people go, even if we love them very much. And sometimes, people we love leave us.”

“O-kay,” your son nods and gives Dean a cracked smile. “Maybe he comes back to me. OH!” He gasps loudly. “What if he brings his family too?”

“No way,” you shudder at the thought of the toad coming back with the whole family. “Toadie will go back home and be a good toad.”

“How about I show you pictures of my Baby? I got them on my phone,” before you can take his son away from him, Dean wants to make sure to get to know the little boy better. 

“He’s got thousands of pictures of his car,” Sam snickers behind his brother’s back. “You’ll get tired looking at all of them.”

“YES!” Michael grins. “I love cars, mister. I bet Mr. Dean has the coolest pictures of the coolest car in the world.”

You purse your lips and clench your fists. Dean already snaked his way into your son’s heart, and you don’t know how to undo the damage he did within not half an hour.

While Michael guides his father out of his room, you stare at the toad in Sam’s hands. You’re unsure what to do now that Dean came here to get to know his son.

“I should bring the toad out, and … uh… maybe I can distract Michael so you can talk to Dean. I know you’re mad at my brother, but please at least talk things out. If you need a clean cut, do it. I’ll bring him back home and make sure he’ll leave you alone.”

“He broke my heart,” you don’t look at Sam. “Not only because he didn’t contact me or stopped me from leaving. He flirted with that woman, and let your mother walk all over me. We were so in love with each other and suddenly everything was different.”

You sniff and wipe your eyes. “I only thought about the life growing inside of me. The baby he didn’t know about. The whole day I tried to find the perfect moment to tell him. It never came, though…”

“I know this doesn’t mean anything to you,” Sam softly says, “but Dean never was happier than with you. After you left, he wasn’t the same. He had some affairs, but I think he was never in love with any of the women he dated. Dean only ever loved you.”

“Sure,” you snort. “He loved me so much that he left me…”

You storm out of the room, determined to get Dean out of your house. Even if it means making a scene in front of your son.

“You!” You stop in your tracks when you see Dean and your son on the couch. Your son is looking at pictures on Dean’s phone, grinning from ear to ear.

“MOMMY! There are pictures with you in Mr. Dean’s car,” Michael runs toward you, Dean’s phone in his hands. “You look so cool.” 

He grins and shows you the image on Dean’s phone. You’re sitting on the hood of his car, winking at Dean. It’s one of the last pictures Dean took of you.

“Uh…that was a long time ago, baby boy. Mr. Dean and his brother want to go now. It’s almost dinner time, and you still need to bathe and brush your teeth after dinner.”

“Mr. Dean must stay!” Michael purses his lips. “I want him to stay in our guest room and we can eat pizza and pie.”

“Michael, I—” you swallow thickly when your son starts to sniffle. It breaks your heart watching him bond with the man breaking your heart. 

“Pizza and pie. Pizza and pie,” your son chants. “Please, mommy. He’s cool and nice. Mr. Dean wants to show me more pictures of his car, and you!”

“What…no…he can’t…” Your voice cracks. “What about his brother? We can’t send his brother Sam away.”

“Hmm…” Your son nods thoughtfully. “Mr. Dean can sleep in your room, and his brother at the guest room.” Michael grins. “Right? You got a big bed all for yourself.”

“I can sleep on the couch,” Sam hastily says. “Or maybe…uh…there is a hotel nearby. I can get me and Dean a room. We can leave after dinner.”

“I can stay for dinner,” Dean finally says. “But you can’t ask your mom to share her bed with me, okay.”

“But…” Michael sniffles. “You will come back tomorrow for breakfast. Right? We can make pancakes and … oh! You must try mommy’s pancakes. You’ll marry her if you taste them!”

Your son’s words hit you right in the chest. Daggers sent to your fragile heart. If only… you think while your son plans a wedding and to keep Dean around.

“I’ll call a hotel and,” Sam gives you an apologetic smile and pats your shoulder, “I promise to get him out of your house. At least for tonight…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #au!dean winchester #au!dean winchester x reader #Designed by pain (7)

[dostoyevsky-official]

in addition to student protests you missed, just an hour away from nyc at flagship suny school stony brook university, nine students were arrested for a peaceful sit-in for divestment in an administrative building, weeks before headlines broke about columbia. haven't heard any noise about it since.

afaik charges have not been dropped against the students and they are being disciplined by the university. both adminstration and students have been hateful around the events surrounding the arrests. still disturbed by the reaction of the community.

On Tuesday, March 26, a pro-Palestine demonstration led by organizers of the Stony Brook University’s (SBU) chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine (SB4Palestine) ended with the arrest of nine protesters in Stony Brook University’s Administration Building.

[...] When asked if he was willing to be arrested, one of the demonstrators said yes. “Because I know what I’m doing is not wrong,” he said. “[I am] sitting on the floor of a public building demanding a school to divest from bombing literal children.” 

Administrators spoke with the protesters who stayed behind, requesting again that they left. “Children are dying in Gaza,” Zubair, a student member of SB4Palestine who asked to be referred to only by his first name for safety reasons, responded. “I don’t care about an arrest. There are 13,000 dead children. Can you repeat the words back to me? There are 13,000 dead children in Gaza. You said [the arrest] is life-changing. How dare you?”

Administrators present continued to ask protestors to leave the building. They urged the demonstrators to think about their futures and how an arrest record would affect them. Adam French, one of the arrested students, incredulously called their request “crazy … when a genocide is happening in Palestine.”

[...] While waiting for a bus to the UPD station, a freshman student who preferred not to give their name due to fear of retaliation from the university said, “I feel like it’s a complete betrayal of all the values that Stony Brook claims to uphold of being at the forefront of social justice, climate justice, all that. This act of censorship and suppression of voices for Palestine by students is … proof that this university is not standing on that fucking business when they need to.”

(x)

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to...

Enjoy my Summer I.

MASTERLIST

Summary: You start off your summer in Dorne, with your girl best friend and your godmother 

Pairings: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Snow

Warnings: cursing, horny people, PDA, teasing, fears of cheating, discussion about cheating, all in good fun, might miss some warnings, you know what this is about jeje

Wordcount: 4,4 k

Notes:I can't apologise enough for the delay to this! I had most of the next chapter and nothing on this one! jeje I had a HUGE block... and eventually, I managed... but I feel like there is nothing intense on this chapter, but still... I hope you all liked this!

“Cregan! Jace! Look who we run into!”, you said excitedly into the back camera of your phone. Jace and Cregan’s mouth opened widely when they saw who you were with

“Hello, I’m Oberyn Martell and this is for these lovely ladies’ boyfriends, Jace and Cregan!”, the charismatic man said, waving at the camera

Then you and Sara show up in screen, Oberyn grabbed you both under each arm and kissed your cheeks

“You are lucky men!”, he teased. You show up giddy and giggly, hugging onto Oberyn martell

The boys’ smile wiped out immediately, sharing concerned looks

“Is Oberyn going to… fuck our girlfriends?”, asked Jace, with a traumatised look on his face

“No! No”, muttered Cregan looking at the road ahead, “I don’t think….”, they both looked ahead wide-eyed and mouth agape…“Well…”

“He is going to fuck our girlfriends isn’t he?”, asked Jace

“Alright search where is the nearest airport and how much is going to cost us the next plane ticket to the fucking watergardens…”

“We can’t leave the car in here dude!”, muttered Jace, typing on his phone, “besides is going to cost us like a thousand golden dragons and 12 hours with three different connections, by the time we get there…”

“You are right, is crazy….”, they spend the next minutes in silence, just looking at the road, “Look…”, started Cregan grabbing onto the wheel, “...he is Oberyn Martell alright? I don’t know if the girls choose to… do… him… but… if they did… I mean…”, Jace nodded nervously

“Yes we couldn’t blame them, I mean, if I encountered him, and he invited me to his hotel room, I’d go too”, Cregan nodded enthusiastically

“Yeah, right? Mee too, and I wouldn’t like my beautiful girlfriend to be mad, because… he is Oberyn Martell, right? everyone’s favourite actor/philanthropist/playboy/martial arts specialist/tv personality”

“Yeah so if they decided to… go back to his room with him…”

“We shouldn’t be mad”, said Cregan

“Right, right, if anything… we are jealous”

“Right!”, said Cregan, and they both went back to stare at the road ahead 

Cregan wished he had gone with you instead of having all those boring family reunions, specially with Robb being so mean, he was forced to hang out in the kid’s table, it was a bit embarrassing, considering he was twenty

But that was done, and now, Jace and him where on his car, on their way down the routes of the North, their plan was to explore some cities as they made their way towards Harrenhal, give the girls time to join them when they finish in the Watergardens 

But Cregan was so happy to receive all those exciting texts from Sara, she was having the time of her life thanks to you, and those texts from you to… made him blush as he was looking straight ahead

He wasn’t worried about you and Oberyn, not at all, but he did wish he was with you right now, having met him and together in the sun… summer… made him so horny, he didn’t even know why.

“We should be arriving in Castle Cerwin in a couple of hours”, offered Jace with a smile 

Castle Cerwin was a cool town but not where the boys would like to be 

But this is the decision they had made so it's the one they were sticking to, besides they were meeting some of Cregan’s friends so it was going to be a fun night in the town with all boys

Then…. Like five other towns in their way to The God’s Eye

But meanwhile

“Should I feel bad that you didn’t bring your boyfriend for me to meet?”, asked Your Godmother over her Chanel sunglasses

As Sara enjoyed the pool over an inflatable flamingo, your godmother started the third degree on you.

“No”, you said shakily, “It’s nothing like that, it's just, he had things to do with his family”

“How serious is this?”, she asked, not convinced 

“I think pretty serious”, you whispered as you sunbathed by her side

“It’s a bit soon, don’t you think?”, she asked, concerned

“We thought things through”, you reassured her, “we are taking things slow”

“Are you?”, she asked, well, not really

“My therapist says he is been good for me”, you said, that seemed to content her

“And when can I meet him?”, she asked

“After this, we are all going to the God’s Eye”, you offered with an apologetic smile

“Alright, maybe next season”, she muttered, you only laughed

“It would mean a lot to me if you met him”, you said with a soft smile

“I can’t wait, my love”, she answered, “from what you have told me, he seems like a great guy, and if he is half as nice as his sister… I’m sure he is the right one for you”

“Well, is too soon to speak about forever, but that is how it feels like right now”, you whispered with a silly smile, and you found your Godmother smiling back at you

“I’m so glad you finally found someone who can… well… a decent man”, she finished, you giggled

“After this we are going to Daemon’s house, in the Island of faces”

“I’ve heard”, she teased, “without any adult supervision?”, you giggled

“No… I don’t think so…”

“Take care, alright?”, she asked, “please?”

“Of course”, you whispered 

“And tell that little Cregan that if he doesn’t take care of you… I can pay someone to take care of him…”

“Godmother!”, you chided playfully

“I’m just teasing…”, she said sipping her cocktail

You spend the rest of the day in the pool, and by the end, you had an early dinner, and started sipping cocktails with Sara. Your godmother left you, and you both were alone to go to the club that was inside the resort.

You didn’t felt particularly in a party mode, and even though you were with Sara and you were having the best of times, you missed Cregan and Jace, there is some things that you’d rather do with them, like going out to a club, but you were determined to have a great time only with Sara.

The boys haden’t answered much, and you understood, they were driving, you really wished they would let you know when they arrived at their destination, but you didn't want to be pushy… or even come out as controlling

Maybe they were at a spot where they didn’t have a signal… those thick woods around the roads in the North were tricky, you really didn’t want to be concerned… it was a bit frustrating… not knowing what to say or do in this situations

You cared for Cregan and you wanted to talk to him, make sure he is good and having a good time

They barely answered to your video of Obryn Martell when you encountered him

IT WAS OBERYN MARTELL! He was everyone’s favourite actor/philanthropist/playboy/martial arts specialist/tv personality, and they barely answered!

You had to take a long breath

They were driving, haven’t even made it to Castle Cerwyn yet, probably

Your phone “dinged”, it was a text from Cregan

Just arrived at castle Cerwin to Ben’s house, everything is fine, ttyl

“That’s it?”, you asked Sara, as she was applying her lipstick, she read the text and raised an eyebrow

“Well, at least they are fine”, she said dismissively

“Nothing from Jace?”, you asked her

“I’m sure they are fine! Just tired! They had been driving all day”, she said mindlessly, and you wanted to be alright with them… lack of communication

You weren’t stuck to your phone all day either, right?

I’d love to “see” you later, videochat?

You typed, but you erased it before you hit send, you didn’t really want to be clingy.

You look at the mirror for the last time, you were looking fine, so was Sara, with simply dresses, hair loose, simple makeup, comfortable shoes

You had no expectation of the night whatsoever, only to have some Dornesy cocktails and have a real girls talk with your friend

You decided to go to a club a couple of hotels over, they say it was the most fun, you took a hotel van to the place, a method of transportation that was not going to be available later at night

The place was nice, over the beach, a nice looking bar, it was already night, so everything was lit up, outside with torches and other “tiki” looking decorations

You ordered a round of fruit-based drinks and you couldn’t stop chatting about everything you had seen and do for the last couple of days.

Sara had never travelled out of Winterfell before and she was looking at everything with wonder, it was actually refreshing, more so since you haven't been to the Watergardens before either, so it was all new to you too.

The people were nice, and very good looking, the sights were amazing, the Watergardens were some sort of an oasis in the middle of a desert, they were breathtaking 

You were having the time of your life, with your godmother and your friend, and yet… you were missing someone, and you spent all day wondering what would it be like if Cregan was here with you, and Jace as well.

It was such a romantic place! 

Even though you weren’t sure how comfortable you would be around Cregan wearing a bikini, but at the same time… you felt so… warm… just by thinking about it

You couldn’t wait to meet them in the lake, it was going to be such a great time! 

Both your phones “dinged” at the same time, and you grabbed them together, it was a notification of a publication of Cregan and Jace, together.

You found it odd, but went to the publication

And paled

Your boyfriends had encountered the one and only…

“IS THAT…?”, You asked

“Margaery Tyrell”, muttered Sara, looking wide-eyed the photo they posted

“Impossible!”

“Well she was on a national tour!”

“Oh for the gods”

She wasn’t alone, she was with her best friend and also a singer… Jeyne Westerling

One for each

They seemed pretty cosy, judging by the background, they were in some restaurant

“Do they think they didn’t take it well that we met Oberyn Martell?”, she asked fearfully, you didn’t know what to think, what to do

Why didn’t he text you personally?

Why did he have to post it? Well, it was a collab with a friend, a friend posted it, but tagged them so, it wasn’t them, they were probably too busy just… chatting it up with two of the most gorgeous and talented women in the entire continent

“Oh gods”, Sara sighed, “should we call them?”, she asked

“No”, you said firmly, sipping on your cocktail, “we shouldn’t bother them”

“You don’t think they'll have dinner and party together, right?”, she asked fearfully

“No, no I don’t think so”, but when you better thought about it. They were two handsome, hunky, smart, kind, amazing young men and… They would be the biggest idiots if they wouldn’t

“I see concern in your face, should we be concerned?”, she asked, and then you shook your head

“They weren’t concerned about us and Oberyn, right? They are the boys!”, you said as it was obvious, “Cregan and Jace! Not any other!”, you said simply, “we took the video with Oberyn, and sent them a greeting because we knew they were fans as everyone else is, for the record, they did the same! I mean… if they saw Margaery and Jeyne and didn’t take pictures with them like… they are idiots!”, and now you were rambling

“You are rambling”, she said

You looked at your phone as if you could call Cregan with your mind, but it wasn’t working, they didn’t call you, they didn’t ask Margaery to send you a greeting.

Gods

It would be so much better if you could call him, call them, and talk, and hear how much they miss you, as much as you missed them.

“Let’s talk about something else”, Sara offered, ”they are not torturing us all day, we shouldn’t torture them”

“Yes! Yes”, you said simply, and you started talking about the plans for the remaining days.

But something was bugging you, in the back of your mind

It was probably the lack of texting from your boyfriend and best friend 

And the very possibility they could be partying with the most perfect and famous person you had ever seen.

 You both tried to keep your mind off of things, the place started to get crowded, and you lost your table as it was clear to set up a dance floor and now you were talking at the bar, snacking on Lys fries and still sipping on a new cocktail

Oh if you only notices how far you had moved from your cellphones in the bar

It had been a couple of hours, you had shooed away a couple of guys who were a little bit straightforward

“Want to dance?”, you asked her, and she nodded enthusiastically 

“Yes! Let’s do it!”, you looked for your belonging in the bar… and nothing

“Where are our phones?”, you asked, searching frantically

“They were right here!”, she said, as scared as you were

“Dammit!”

You looked everywhere, asked all the bartenders, but nothing, someone took your phones

“We should go back to the hotel”, you said, the night a bit spoiled, you weren’t concerned, they were locked, and unlocking your phone and Sara's was impossible because of the making of the phone itself, but still…

“Yes, before it's too late to get a cab”, she muttered 

. . .

“I can’t believe we met Margaery, she was so nice”, muttered Jace with a dreamlike expression on his face

“Yeah, who would have thought? Of all restaurant in the the city, that would have walked in the same one”, said Cregan

“The girls seemed oddly quiet though”, said Jace

“I didn’t send them the pic yet”, said Cregan

“Wait… Ben uploaded something”, said Jace, looking into his socials, “and Sara saw it”

“You have no more messages from her? I have nothing from (y/n)”, Spoke Cregan, now concern

“They wanted to talk but it was when we were in the HIghway entering the city and… it was messy, and we had started fighting!”, muttered Jace

“And then we barely texted them when we were greeting Ben and his ten siblings and his parents!”. Said Cregan

“We told them we couldn’t talk and then Ben uploaded a photo with Margaery Tyrell”

They shared concerned looks

“Are there any chances that they are angry… very angry… possibly contemplating calling back Oberyn Martell because they think we…”

“Yep”, answered Jace quickly

“Oh for the Gods!”, Cregan moaned, rubbing his face, “they hate us!”

“Nah, come on, they are… rational people… right?”, whined Jace, “they are not… criminally insane and go on a guy-kissing rampage only because we didn’t answer a text”

“You are right”, he said simply, “yes you are right, they are probably already in bed, and tired, you know, sunbathing is tiring, the sand like… steals your energy away, right?”

“Right! Right! Right!”

“Are you freaking out?”, asked Cregan

“No no, if anything we should be angry, they are not answering our texts… they are being childish!”

“Right!”

“Right, yes, because, what? They believe we stood a chance against Margaery and Jeyne? Like they would be remotely interested in us…?”, 

“Well… they did ask us where we were staying”, said Cregan between greeted teeth

“We are so screwed”, muttered Jace, “we didn’t even tell them, meaning… they at least made Oberyn send us a greeting… right?”

“Oh gods”

“They must be so angry Cregan, I don’t want to lose Sara! I love her”

“I don’t want to loose my girl either, I love her too…”, and then, at that fundamental moment, they stopped their neurosis to look at each other

“YOU LOVE HER!?”, asked at the same time

“And we didn’t even got to tell them!”, said Cregan

“Gods”

“They must be so angry right now…”

“We will fix it, alright? Nothing happened!”, Jace tried to assure himself 

. . . 

“My feet hurt!”, whined Sara, and you were thinking the same thing, you were probably bleeding inside your high heel sandals

You couldn’t find a cab, of course, so you were walking back to the hotel

“Mine too”

“I want to sleep in that magnificent bed, I want to talk to my boyfriend”, she whined

“Me too”, you agreed

“Do you have your tablet? From there we can let them know our phones got stolen”

“Yes, and we need to get new ones in the morning”, you muttered, whining about your aching feet, “shouldn’t have we gotten there by now?”, you asked, looking around

“Yes, actually, the ride there was straight down the road, and then left..”, muttered Sara, “so naturally…”

“No, no it wasn't left, it was right, the side of the beach was the right”, you said

“Yes but remember the roundabout of the hotel? Makes you think that you are on the right, but it’s actually left”

‘I don’t understand”, you muttered, you looked around, and nothing looked similar, “no…”

“What?”, she asked

“We have been walking the wrong way!”, you whined

“Noooo!”

“YES!” 

“DANG ITTTTT”

You were turning around, to go the other way, but suddenly… the most majestic sports car turned around the curb, and stopped right by your side

You couldn’t believe your eyes, it was actually Oberyn!

“Can’t believe my eyes! The northerner girls!”, he said, he wasn’t alone, he was accompanied by a gorgeous woman

“Hello Oberyn”, Sara greeted with the greatest smiled

“What are you doing here alone? Shouldn’t you be partying? Taking advantage of this beautiful city and its night life?”

“Yes we were but our phones got stolen, we couldn’t order a cab to go back to our hotel”, you said with a shy smile

“Say no more, get in”, he invited, the woman just looked at you and smiled… not kindly, but… it was nice nonetheless

You were going to say now, but if you took two more steps on those ridiculous shoes you decided to wear, you were going to cry

You shared looks with Sara and got in

“This is Ellaria… my wife”, he introduced

“WHAT!?”, you both asked at the same time, both relaxed and happy

“Nobody knows you have a wife!”, said Sara

“I know!”, he said with a big smile, she looked back at you both

“So, these are the girls you talked to me about, asking you to send a video to their boyfriends”, said for the first time Ellaria, she had this seductive, smooth voice, with the characteristic Dornish accent, and you couldn’t get over how beautiful she was

 “Yeah! exactly, where did you say they are? Why aren’t they here with you!?”, he asked, almost scandalised, and he turned on his sports car and you started sliding through the streets of the Seaside resort of Sunspear… The Watergardens, “you know they do call this city… the city of love”, he giggled 

“They wanted to do a roadtrip of the North, we are going to meet in the God’s Eye”, you said softly

“Oh, Riverland, nice”, he said, “I heard there is a festival there at the middle of summer, it was quite the event”

“Really?”, you asked

“Oh yeah, it was quite fun, the Lake Party, but it’s been a bore for the last couple of years”, contributed Ellaria

“Yeah, maybe we should go”, said Oberyn, Ellaria smiled

“Maybe we should”, she teased, “we can make it matter again”, they shared this significant look, like there was nothing else in this world but them, they were so in love, you could tell, they were both beautiful. It was barely a second, he was driving, but still…

You felt joy when you watched them, but… not envy or nothing like that, you…

Were watching what is what like to be with Cregan

Oh how you loved him

Wait… WHAT!?

“Here you are ladies”, he said happily, pulling the car to the hotel’s entry, it was of no surprise he knew which hotel it was, you had met at the club this morning

“Thank you so much Oberyn!”, Sara said

How could this happen? you were with one of the greatest stars of the century, and you only cared about Cregan, and how much you wished he was there with you.

“Let’s take a picture for the socials”, said Ellaria, taking a selfie with you both on the back seat and Oberyn and Ellaria smiling, “I’ll upload it, what are your users?”, she asked

You gave them your social media data, you couldn’t believe this was happening

“Thank you so much, both of you, thank you!”, you said with a grateful smile, “It would be so amazing if we meet again in the Lake!”

“So we can finally meet this boyfriends of yours”

“There must be something in the air, they met Margaery today, and Jeyne”, Sara told them, they shared concerned looks

“Really?”, and then they both looked back at you

“What?”, asked Sara

“Nothing, i’m sure it went well”, said Oberyn

“Oh come on!”, you said to him, “now i’m concerned”

“No!”, said Ellaria, sharing looks and kept repeating like a mantra, “no no no no”

“Ok you look for the picture… is under @BenTallheart999”, you commanded, she looked it up, his account was public, and saw the picture

“Oh, they are delicious!”, she adored

“Hey!”, teased Oberyn, with a big goofy smile, “You know what? let’s discuss this in the bar”

He was so chaotic and funny, you actually went to the hotel bar, you ordered drinks and snacks, and you spent two hours talking about Cregan, and Jace, and their relationship, they were actually giving you advice.

“I think you both need to downplay it, making them wait, and always be on guard”, said Ellaria, “that is how I caught this one!”, she teased pointing at Oberyn

“NOT TRUE!”, he said, “and no!”, he said pointing at you in warning, “it’s clear that these boys feel the same, jump all in!”

“NO!”, fought Ellaria, “you don’t want to give them the power”

“What if… now that we are not answering… they actually go somewhere with that pair of international stars!”, Sara said, concerned

“They will not!”, said Oberyn

“But we have barely talked since we parted ways!”, you said

“Because they are on a road trip! And you are in the pool or beach all day”, he tried to reason, “they understand, you understand, right?”

It was such a chaotic and wild night, you will definitely remember it

You went back to your room, your godmother probably asleep, in her own suit

You almost threw yourself on top of your tablet, and logged into your account

Messages started pouring in, and hundreds of requests to being followed since, of course, OBERYN MARTELL HAD TAGGED YOU ON A PHOTO

And you had several messages of Cregan

Hey love, are you alright?

Haven’t heard from you in a while”

Is everything alright?

I don’t want to sound… or actually… seen controlling but, we are getting a bit worried

Maybe you are sleeping

I miss you

The last text reached you like twenty minutes ago, so you texted back quickly

Cregan! I never meant to worry you, Sara and I went for a drink in a nearby club, and our phones got stolen!

We are back in the hotel

You won’t believe who brought us back!

Oberyn Martell again! AND HIS WIFE, it was bananas

Are you guys alright?

“Give me!”, demanded Sara, and you gave her the tablet, and she logged in her own account

“A couple of  concerned messages from Jace”, she muttered

I swear nothing happened with Margaery, or Jeyne, they were great, but nothing happened

Are you angry?

Please don’t be…

I miss you terribly

Please give us a sign that you are alright

“We need to talk to them”, you said

But for tonight? You went to sleep, you were so, so tired

The very next morning, over orange juice, and a big breakfast… you both decided to call Cregan and Jace

“Hey loves!”, as soon as you saw them, you felt relieved.

“Hey girls!”

“We miss you!”, said Jace

You were placed next to Sara, and you couldn’t wait to tell them everything that had happened over the last days, they had been so chaotic

“Our phones got stolen last night!”, you said quickly

It was all fine, and you couldn’t believe you ever doubted them, they were Jace and Cregan, your boys! You only needed to talk to them, Oberyn was right…

It was all good

So… it was so good, you spent the next few days enjoying the pool, the beach, your godmother, eating in the most delicious restaurants, and having the time of your life, taking a long breath of fresh air… 

Recharging your batteries after life-altering decisions you had made this year… and especially… to make you think about what you wanted, and where you wanted to go… 

And who you wanted to go with you

Cregan

Sara

Jace

Your Godmother, the most important people in your life, and this trip helped you realise that, you were so, extremely happy

You wanted to enjoy those days with your godmother, she invited you here, she wanted to see you, it was mean of you to want to leave because Cregan wasn’t here, so… you were here now, and you enjoyed it to the last second.

Sara, who had never been outside of the North, was seeing everything for the first time and it was so refreshing! She was extremely grateful, and you talked to the boys everyday for an hour about everything they did that day

They were excited, they learned how to properly see a map, because they didn’t want to rely on their phones as much, they sometimes stopped to camp, yes, actually camp, set a campfire, and roast marshmallows, they say they were practising for the summer at the lake, because you were going to have a lot of that.

This was only just beginning

After chapter notes: Oberyn Martell in this universe is like… if Jackie Chan had a lovechild with Robert Downey Jr’s Tony Stark 😂

Sorry if it wasn't that exciting... perhaps I'm saving myself for the next one

TAGLIST!

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata @watercolorskyy @yazzzmints @n4tforlife @littleshadow17 @alexa4040 @speedyballoonpainter @hc-geralt-23 @rayrayredpanda @eralen @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @iloveallmyboys @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm @ttkttt @aleemendoza2425-blog @drwstarkeyy @casualfansoul @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bruher @@toms-cherry-trees @happinessinthebeing @warmness0ul @jennifer0305 @missusnora @a-beaverhausen @snowtargaryen @qu44nbl4ck @juhdoche

#misguidedneed #cregan x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon

[syncogon]

[QZGS TL] Butterfly Blue's Reflections, Ten Years Later

T/N: On April 28, 2024, for the tenth anniversary of the completion of The King's Avatar novel, author Butterfly Blue wrote the following Weibo post:

Translation below:

2014 April 28, to 2024 April 28. Ten years. 😲

It’s a bit of a blur, but yes, it’s been ten years. ⁉️

My editor told me in advance that I should write something to discuss my reflections, but I kept refusing on the grounds that I didn’t have any reflections to share. 🥺🙏 After going back and forth for a while, I suddenly thought, "not having any reflections" was itself something that I could share with everyone. 🤔

How come I don’t have any reflections? Because it’s been ten years. 😞

Ever since that day ten years ago, when I wrote that final period. The story of the world of Glory ended there. 🤗 And ever since that day, my thoughts and feelings on this story, this world, and all these different characters have gradually grown fewer and fewer. 😞👉👈

In 2022, as part of a Qidian event, I wrote another prequel chapter. I followed my ideas and thought patterns from my past prequel chapters to write this new installment. But as I wrote it, it was choppy, it was awkward, it was forced. 😫 The forty-plus-year-old me, regretfully, can no longer write well this story that brought me so much joy and delight during my thirties. 😞😞 This is probably the power of time. In the end, I have no way of maintaining my mood and state from ten years ago. 😞👉👈 When I think about this, I suddenly realize that “time” should be the true protagonist of this reflection, rather than anything else I could share about this work. 🥹 

With that, I immediately become even more saddened. Ten years have passed, I’m no longer young, my hair is gone, my beard occasionally sprouts some white strands, and I can no longer sleep right after eating due to acid reflux…🧎

And The King’s Avatar, after ten years, is still there. There are still people who see it, there are still people who like it. Through the passage of time, this is, to me, the greatest source of comfort. 🫡

Thank you to The King’s Avatar. Thank you to the past, present, and future readers who pick up this work. Thank you to the many staff of all roles who have kept busy for this work. 🙇

I wish that time could stand still. I absolutely do not look forward to another ten years passing by, but that day will inevitably come. 👋

Then, I will wish everyone happy travels on their life journey! I hope this work will be the flowers that decorate your happy journey. 🫂🫂

https://m.weibo.cn/detail/5028124733474872

#quan zhi gao shou #qzgs #the king's avatar #全职高手 #tka #translation #mine #synco talks #i have. many thoughts of my own on this #but it's late now so they must come later #i have no idea why he used so many emojis but it made this take 2x as long trying to figure out good equivalents

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Honeymoon

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

The elevator in Shigaraki’s building was a fast one. Fast, but even. She could probably time down to the millisecond the pace that those floor numbers changed, they were so metronomic. The best that money could buy she was sure. Like clockwork, each floor number passed, ticking in her head more like a countdown. 

She was nervous about going to Shigaraki’s house today, if that wasn’t obvious. And truth be told, there were a lot of very legitimate reasons for her to be nervous about it. The fact that this was the first time she’d been at his place since their most recent night together. The fact that the company Christmas Party was just a few hours away and she really didn’t have enough time to be coming over here in the first place. The fact that going to his house always felt a bit like entering the lion’s den — she never knew just what was going to happen when she was there. 

Yes, these were all great reasons to be nervous, but to be honest, she wasn’t considering any of them. Her real reason was downright stupid in comparison. She was nervous because she was bringing Tomura Shigaraki a Christmas present.

And a stupid Christmas present at that.

It was a jacket. A stupid fucking jacket that she’d thought would be so great for him at the time. She assumed that he didn’t really own any nice jackets since all she’d ever seen him wear were hoodies. And she’d been so unable to get the image of him in red out of her head, that when she saw this stupidly expensive (but fantastic quality) red peacoat with the faux-fur collar at the department store, she knew she had to jump on it. 

But then two days shy of Christmas, he gave her a tour of Todai and just what had he been wearing? A fucking trench coat. Not the exact same thing, but pretty close enough.

She’d facetimed Spinner the second she got home in a panic over it.

“I think you’re in the clear. I’ve never seen anything like that in his closet.” he assured her.

“Ugh maybe there’s a reason for that though,” she agonized, “Like, maybe it’s not really his style after all…”

He shrugged, “I think it looks nice.”

“Really?” she pressed.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll like it.”

But she wasn’t going to take such blanket assurance lying down.

“I need you to be honest with me here, Spinner. If I’m making an idiot out of myself, I’d rather know now then on Christmas.”

Spinner sighed, looking through the camera at the jacket with more genuine scrutiny. She really wasn’t going to give up on this after all… 

“I don’t know, I think it looks fine. Maybe the fluffy part might be a bit much though?” Spinner finally relented.

“It’s removable!” she announced proudly, unclipping the first part to demonstrate this asset.

Spinner chuckled, “Well then you’re fine.”

“Are you sure? You don’t think red’s too gaudy for him?”

“He wears red shoes.”

“What about the material though? I know the really good peacoats are full wool, but I could only afford the blend. It’s still a good blend though, so it should be okay, right?”

Spinner didn’t say anything, immediately adding fuel to the flames of her worries. She turned the screen back to her so she could see that hesitant expression of his head on.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just,” he sighed and then offered her a sympathetic smile, “I think you’re thinking too much into this.”

“What? No way! This is the first thing I’ve ever gotten him,” she insisted, “It needs to be great!”

“Look, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up or anything.”

She cocked her head at him. He continued.

“Like, don’t think you’re setting a precedent here. Because he probably hasn’t gotten you anything,” he mumbled then, “Two of us have been friends for years, and he still only buys me shit when when he wants something.”

“Oh…”

Was that all his reservations were, for real? She almost laughed a little, relief finally settling throughout her.

“Well yeah. I assumed he wouldn’t.”

Spinner gave her a dumbfounded look, “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I know he doesn’t really think of stuff like that. I just wanted to get him something because… Well, I just wanted to. I saw this and thought he might like it,” self-consciousness started to flood her body once again, “...Do you think he’ll like it?”

Spinner smiled, happy she knew what she was getting into. Happy that Shigaraki had someone like her in his life now. Just happy for his friends.

“Yeah. I think he will.”

The elevator dinged, snapping her out of her thoughts. She made her way out of the elevator, down the hall to the single flat on this floor.

Continue on AO3

#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER #TOMURA SHIGARAKI X OC #SHIGARAKI #TOMURA SHIGARAKI #BNHA SHIGARAKI #MHA SHIGARKI #SHIGARAKI FANFIC #READER INSERT #LONG FIC #SMUT #SHIGARAKI SMUT #TW DUBCON #QUIRKLESS AU #SPICE WRITES #MHA #BNHA #MHA SMUT #BNHA SMUT #PLAY NICE FIC

[tavs-tressym]

Delicious Denial - Chapter Six

(AO3 Link) | Master List

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)

Word Count: 3800 (approx)

Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT). Jealous Astarion, lake scene.

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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍

(Lots of comforting camp life content)

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A/N: Splish splash I was takin' a bath...

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Chapter Six - Splash

Picking a semi-dry spot in the soil, you try not to spill your wine as you lower yourself into a cross-legged position. Astarion does the same beside you, much more gracefully, stretching his legs out and resting his weight on his arms behind him. For a moment, you both take in the serenity of the lake, not injecting a word into the comfortable silence. You focus on your breathing, then on his. The rhythm almost matches, but the more you focus on it, the more irregular it becomes.

“So, the story?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes… Turns out I’m being hunted. Or, was...” He replies, nonchalantly.

You turn to him in confusion. “Hunted? You specifically?”

He nods and looks at you for a moment. His smile leaves his eyes but not his lips as he inspects your face. He sighs and looks down. “I corrected you last night. I told you that I’m a vampire spawn. Remember?”

“What’s the difference?”

He scoffs at your naivety, shaking his head. “Everything. A true vampire has power. A spawn… Is a slave- no, less than a slave. Our master speaks, our bodies react…” He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “My ma-... old master is Cazador Szarr, a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. He turned me two-hundred years ago, and for two-hundred years, he has been my tormentor… He wants me back...”

You nod, thoughtfully. It’s hard for you to picture a man so well kept and confident in such a position. Then something clicks. “Szarr… As in, Szarr Palace?”

He cocks his head in intrigue. “The very same. You know it?”

“Yes. Or, at least, the outside of it. I was never allowed in… It always looked so grand. To think, it’s been crawling with vampires this whole time…” You look to the floor as unpleasant memories flash before you: Hands. Dragging you along as you tripped on cobbles, the thunk of palace doors, the sun drying your lips as you waited for hours at a time, not allowed to sit, not allowed to move, not allowed to think…

Astarion furrows his brow in concentration as he inspects your face, desperately trying to remember if he has (and praying he hasn’t) seen you before. You snap yourself out of your spiral and are startled by the intensity of his eyes. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing…” He looks away and you do the same.

A moment of contemplation passes as you draw patterns with your finger on your knee. “I’m sorry… Two-hundred years, it-... it sounds awful.”

He rolls his eyes, flippantly, clearly reluctant to accept your sympathy. “Ugh… Well… Thank you, darling.” He leans back a little, silently thankful that the difficult sharing portion of the conversation is over.

The side of your mouth curls into a subtle grin. His stubbornness is endearing, in a way, and you suppose you can hardly blame him, the last thing you would want is pity either. So, you decide to move onto the facts of the situation: “How did you escape?”

“I was in the middle of er- doing Cazador’s bidding when the mind flayers snatched me. Ever since I was infected with this tadpole, his commands haven’t been able to reach me.” He can’t help but smile as he tips wine into his mouth.

“Hm, that’s lucky.” You are about to take a sip of your own wine when you decide to raise the cup in a toast instead. “To being lucky.”

He chuckles, softly and clinks the cups together. “To being very fucking lucky.”

After swallowing the tart wine, you trace your finger around the rim of the cup in thought. You want to ask him why he’s telling you this, but before you can speak the words, he stands and walks closer to the lake. His hands find the hem of his bloodied shirt and he begins to lift it. “Woah! What are you doing?!” You cover your eyes with your hand.

He pauses his motion and laughs. “Well, as lovely an accessory as the blood of my enemies is, I don’t fancy wearing it throughout the night.”

“Oh, right, okay, I’ll let you get on with it then.” You stand, still blocking your vision and start backing away, using your free hand to feel out for any obstacles.

Then cold, smooth fingers wrap around yours. “Darling, not to be rude, but when was the last time you bathed?” Your eyes widen behind your hand and you sniff under your arm…

Okay… It has been a while…

“I won’t look, I promise. Not unless you want me to.” He purrs, the sound of his voice making you blush and scoff. Then you feel something solid placed in your hand. It’s cube shaped and a little slippery. You brush your thumb over it, popping tiny bubbles on it’s surface. Soap. The thought of bathing next to each other is both incredibly enticing and terrifying. You wonder if you can truly trust him not to look, or if this whole thing is just some manipulative, gross attempt for him to get in your pants. But presently, you can’t even read his face. No, it’s too much, too soon. You can’t do this… At least… Not alone…

You pretend to be unaware of his intentions and pray to all the gods that he can’t see through your feigning of innocence. “Hold on, I’ll ask the others.”

“The others?” You feel his grip on your hand loosen.

“Surely, it’s been a while for everyone. You weren’t planning on keeping me all to yourself now, were you?” You smirk and turn away, removing your hand and allowing vision to return to your eyes. You hear him chuckle as you saunter off towards camp.

The others agree to join you, with Gale nodding a little too eagerly. “Yes!” Karlach fist pumps the air in excitement as Shadowheart looks up at her, smirking. Even Lae’zel takes you up on the offer, quickly retrieving her things with a seductive gaze towards Wyll, who bashfully agrees too. Together, you make your way back to the lake; towels and soap in hand.

The water is up to Astarion’s chest, concealing everything but his pale shoulders from your view. Just as he notices you and begins to grin, he is immediately consumed by a wave crashing into him, followed by Karlach’s cackles. Somehow she is already in nothing but her underclothes and bobbing her head above the surface, revelling in the feeling of crisp, cold water soothing her blazing skin. “Come on! Get in!” She shouts. Astarion’s head appears again, curls straightened by the weight of the water and flopping over his face, you can’t help but laugh. Shadowheart and Lae’zel waste no time and follow in Karlach’s footsteps, swiftly undressing and stepping into the water. Lae’zel looks behind her at Wyll and beckons him with a gesture of her hand. He clears his throat and begins to unbutton his shirt.

Suddenly, warm breath tickles your ear. “Can I tell you a secret?” Startled, you look behind you to see Gale, cheeks red and bashful. “I’m a tad nervous about all this…” He definitely looks like it, it’s sweet. You smile warmly then take a step back and look him up and down. He’s clearly an attractive man and that robe, although humble, clings to his soft yet somehow firm physique. “W-what is it?”

“Just surprised that you are nervous about this, that’s all.” You smirk at him, playfully.

He chuckles. “Ah, well, thank you,” He tucks his hair behind his ear. “But that’s not it, exactly. It’s just a bit… Exposing…”

You nod, understandingly. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Yes, don’t worry, I am well aware. But gods, if I’m totally honest… Tav, I stink.”

You giggle. “Me too. Come, we can do it together.”

You hold out your hand and lead him closer to the lake where you begin to undo your pants, not seductively in any way, just like you would if you were alone in your tent. But that doesn’t stop Gale from having to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from you to undo his robe, revealing the white wrap shirt and leather pants beneath. As you slide off your trousers over your plump thighs and step out, your, now untucked, burnt orange shirt flows halfway over your rear. You stand straight and struggle with the tight fastenings of your shirt. You sigh, annoyed at the effort. “Do you… Um… Need help?” Gale asks, sheepishly. You chuckle and nod, stepping closer. He tries to maintain his composure as he reaches for the knot above your chest. You look up at him, amused by his embarrassment.

You notice the several difficult knots that hold his wrap shirt together. “Thanks, um… Do you need help?”

“Oh-um… Yes, please. Thank you.” You smile and work on undoing the shirt until it’s hanging off his body. He pulls away and shrugs off the fabric. You lift yours above your head, feeling his eyes on your body as your vision is momentarily blocked by the linen of your shirt. Once you can see again, he’s already looking away.

Taking his hand again, you step into the water together. It’s delightfully warm, thanks to Karlach who’s having a splash fight with Shadowheart not too far away. You close your eyes and sigh as the water soothes aches and embraces skin. Gale, too, revels in the feeling, wading a little further into the lake, letting go of your hand as the surface swallows his body up to his chest. Opening your eyes at the loss of contact, you follow him. His eyes find yours again, smiling, grateful for your company. You smile back, eyes trailing down his face and focusing on the design between his collarbones. You mustn’t have been very subtle about it as you see his hand emerging from the water to touch it.

“It’s pretty.”

He smiles. “Thank you… It’s not here by choice though, I’m afraid.”

“Is it something to do with that bomb-thing in your chest?”

He furrows his brows in surprise and confusion. “How did you…” You gesture towards Astarion who’s washing himself at a distance from the rest of the group, sulking. “Ah…” Gale looks down, irritated, an emotion you haven’t seen from him before. “I didn’t give him permission to tell you about that… But,” He sighs, letting his hand drop beneath the water again. “Oh well, you know now…”

You bite your lip in regret, you didn’t want to cause any rifts between them. You try to save it. “I don’t know much, just that it’s there and you have to consume magical items to stop it from killing us all.” You avoid the topic of Mystra, unsure of how he would feel about you knowing about her.

He chuckles at your blunt delivery. “That’s certainly a simplified way of putting it…” He takes a deep breath, clearly feeling a little awkward and lathers his soap, offering you the bar to do the same. You take it and scrub the bubbles into your skin. 

You avoid looking at each other as you wash yourselves, then after a loud silence, he cuts through it. “Would you believe me if I told you it was all my fault?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow and shrug. He laughs. “Fair enough, I suppose you don’t know me all that well yet… It was an accident. I was trying to impress someone, but it went too far.” He shakes his head in shame.

“A girl?” You ask with a teasing smirk.

He laughs again. “A goddess. My goddess. Although, I don’t think she’d appreciate me calling her that anymore. I was one of her chosen… And later, her lover.” He pauses for effect, as painful as it is to relive the memories, he can’t resist a humble brag. You raise an eyebrow and  nod slowly, understandingly and not wanting to press him for more information. As much as you want to ask about it and as hard as it is to believe that a mere mortal can satisfy a goddess, his wounds seem too fresh. “When she found out what I’d done, she cast me aside. We haven’t spoken since.” His slight smile drops and he stares into the rippling water.

“I’m sorry… It sounds like you were really close.”

He nods, taking a deep breath. “Yes, well, that was then. And, I suppose, this is now.” He looks up at you and offers a bittersweet smile, you return it.

The moment is interrupted by a large splash of water over you both, startled, you look around, frantically, and find Astarion, closer than before, making his way past you, heading to the shallow end. “Whoops.” He states, unconvincingly. You scoff at his pettiness.

“Excuse me, Gale. I’m getting the slightest feeling that someone wants my attention. I’ll see you later.” He goes to say something, but instead he smiles and nods, resuming his bath. You, however, charge full steam ahead through the water, following Astarion.

The surface lowers as you move, revealing more and more of your body, concealed only by your underclothes. “Oi! Get back here!” He laughs, pleased to hear that you’re following him. The cold air hits your chest and you start to shiver, eager to submerge yourself back into the warm water, but you’re determined now and Astarion annoyed you. You follow the back of his head as his shoulders become a torso, above the water. You stop. You stop because you see them.

Scars.

Gods above…

Raised and red, curving into circular, indecipherable language. An abhorrent marking of possession. Of property. Between painful lines are glimpses of untouched, undefiled skin. A fractured memory of what it was before. It’s terrible, it’s tragic, it’s poetry and it’s torture.

He hears your halt in movement and turns around, eyes already low and prepared to gaze at your form, which he does. He follows your lines until he meets your face. Your eyes are wide, lips are parted, brows are knitted. It’s something he never wanted to see on your sweet face: Pity. For a moment he forgot about it, the burden he carries, the weight on his back. He’s shocked to realise it and even more shocked to realise this isn’t the first time it’s happened when he’s around you. But he pushes the thought aside and clears his throat. He looks away in shame, suddenly feeling creeping vulnerability on his exposed skin.

SPLASH!

With no time to react, Astarion is engulfed in a wave of surging water. It’s not enough to knock him over, like Karlach’s, but it’s enough to drench him again. He gasps and wipes his eyes, peaking through the blur to see your determined grin and readied stance. You might be shit on the battlefield, but this is no typical fight. This is a motherfucking water fight.

He laughs, relieved to have the moment of tension broken. It’s infectious and you giggle along with him, momentarily lowering your guard. A mistake.

SPLASH!

“Oh, you motherfu-!”

SPLASH!

He cackles at your sopping wet state, slicking back his hair, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Each time he tries to open his eyes, he sees your hair dripping and sticking to your fierce, determined face, setting off another bout of laughter. You giggle for a moment, appreciating the unrestrained sound that rumbles from deep within his chest. “Alright, alright, it’s not that funny.”

He half regains his composure. “Oh but it is, darling. It really is.”

You flick him with the drops that formed around your fingertips. He scrunches his face in a delightful way as they hit him and chuckles. In retaliation, he cups his hands and lowers them below the surface until they’re full, and moves closer, taunting you with it. “Nooo! No! No! Don’t you dare!” You scream and laugh, frantically wading backwards through the water to get away from him. He follows closely, laughing at your panic as he raises his hands over your head, preparing to drop it. You try to duck away but he lets go at just the right time. You narrow your eyes up at him through the drops cascading down your face. He smugly peers down at you, chuckling softly. For a moment, you both just stay there, laughing at each other, dripping with lake water.

Then all of a sudden, he’s leaning in. No, he’s throwing himself at you. No, he’s… Falling? His face lights up with panic as he’s forced forward, you hold your arms out, bracing yourself for the impact. “Shit, sorry!” cries Wyll. Astarion tries to grab onto your shoulder to steady himself but it’s not enough and he crashes into you anyway, pushing you down with him. The water, although shallow enough to comfortably stand in, is deep enough that lying flat isn’t really an option. You’re submerged in the water, the gasp you took as you fell, being the only air in your lungs. Your head hits the rocky ground with a muffled yelp. An arm curls around your waist, pulling you up for air. You inhale and cough.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, just bumped my head. But, I’m fine.” Moving your hand up to rub the injury, you’re surprised to touch a colder hand, already rubbing it better. You wipe the water from your eyes and open them to find a heavy breathing Astarion over you, scanning your face with fierce concern. You take in the sight of his worried, wide eyes: a change from his usual, steel-crafted mask. His fingers find the sore spot on your crown and massage it in circles. He’s doing it a little too hard and so you wince, but don’t stop him. It’s a strange sight, a strange experience to watch him do this. One you can’t quite pull your eyes away from.

“Oh, gods, Tav! Are you alright?! I’m so sorry!” Wyll rushes to your side. You flick your eyes to him and notice a new addition to his skin: peppered hickeys along his neck and collarbone. You can only assume what he and Lae’zel were up to before knocking you both over with such force. A badly stifled snort of laughter emerges from you, causing Astarion to look at Wyll in confusion, only to fall into the same trap and start laughing himself, but he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Wyll follows your eyes and covers his neck with his hand, bashfully.

Lae’zel steps behind him, looking down at the little gathering impatiently before speaking. “Wyll. I don’t like waiting. And I wasn’t finished tasting you.” Her words inspire another intense, red blush on Wyll’s cheeks and a roar of laughter from you and Astarion.

You compose yourself enough to get some words out. “I’m fine, really. Don’t let me stop your… ‘Tasting’.”

As Wyll clears his throat, nods and shuffles away with Lae’zel, you return your attention to Astarion, still hovering over you and chuckling at them. Once you become a little too aware of his knee, sitting between your thighs, you decide it’s time to stand up. “I-um, I can probably get back up now.”

“Hm? Oh, of course.” He quickly retreats, his hand slips away from your scalp and you shiver at the gentle loss of contact. Now standing, he holds his hand out for you. You take it, sliding your palm into his and letting him hold your weight as you lift yourself out of the water.

As you emerge once again, he avoids gazing at your body, with effort. You giggle. “It’s alright, it’s not like Gale didn’t get an eye-full earlier.” His eyes narrow at the thought but turns it into a smirk. You grin right back and turn around, wringing out your hair, flipping it back and intentionally whipping him with it. He playfully scoffs. You turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder. You take the moment to subtly glide your gaze over his lean, toned body. Porcelain skin, gleaming in moonlight. Before you lose yourself in the sight, you look away.

In turning back to him and noticing that his eyes are nowhere near locked on yours, he reminds you that he’s not the only one exposed. You, too, are down to nothing but your underwear, and he seems to like it. For a moment, you consider covering yourself, but instead you choose to embrace it, resting your weight on one hip. “So, you, very rudely, interrupted our conversation and now you have my attention. What did you want?” He yanks his eyes away from your body and flicks them back to your face. He clears his throat and begins to speak but can’t find the words. He didn’t think that far ahead, he just knew he wanted you to look at him. 

“I was just trying to save you from whatever tedious trivia Gale was, no doubt, spewing.” He shrugs and smirks. You chuckle and shake your head. “It was a delightful conversation, actually. Thank you very much.”

“Ah, then by all means, my dear!” He gestures towards Gale, knowing you won’t turn back now.

You grin and walk towards the shore. “Actually, I think I should probably get out before I turn into a prune.”

He watches as you pass him, pondering whether or not to follow. You step on cold soil and reach for your towel, patting away the moisture on your body and scrunching your hair, encouraging the natural waves to bounce back. You turn back, towel now secured around your chest to observe the scene before you: Gale rinsing out his hair and making his way to shore, Astarion drying himself in the corner of your vision, Shadowheart making a pathetic attempt at a backstroke and Karlach hovering, coaching and cheering her on. Wyll and Lae’zel are nowhere to be seen.

Probably for the best…

You smile at the sight and make your way back to your tent, soaking in the scent of burnt wood from the remnants of the campfire. On the way, you spot Scratch, curled up by the entrance of Karlach’s tent, snoozing away. Ducking under your tent flap, you slip off your towel, undress and wrap yourself snugly in your bedroll.

Hesitant, shuffling footsteps approach, followed by a hesitant, warm voice. “Goodnight, Tav. I… I enjoyed talking to you tonight. Thank you… For listening.”

You smile. “Goodnight Gale, I enjoyed listening.” With a deep breath, he walks away and the flap of his tent is the last thing you hear before a new set of footsteps take his place.

These are stronger, bouncier, unashamed of the space they occupy. They stop outside your tent and for a moment, it’s silent. You’re tempted to poke your head out, but instead you wait…

“Sweet dreams, darling.”

“Sweet dreams, Astarion.”

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Previous Chapter

#astarion #bg3 #spawn astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #vampire spawn #astarion baldurs gate #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #astarion fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fluff #bg3 funny #astarion acunin #astarion brainrot #astarion bg3 #astarion my beloved #astarion romance #astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 4

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,332

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), fluff, PDA, fake dating chaos, mention of cramps and throwing up because of the pain, bad sex joke, use of emojis (I have no clue how else to explain the exact reactions other than the emojis), drinking/being drunk (I’ve never been drunk, so forgive me if my portrayal is off), Not Edited

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I’ve literally been locked in my room for two weeks with no motivation. I really hope that y’all like this chapter. I’m also hoping to work on some other stuff coming up soon. 😁

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Nick and Matt stood at the island as me and Chris walked into the kitchen. I caught Nick’s eye as I set down enough food to feed a small militia. He just stares.

Matt hits him in the shoulder, prompting him to give him a dirty look before speaking. “I’m sorry…” He looked like he wasn’t sure what all he needed to apologize for. “I’m sorry that I punched you” he nodded toward Chris. “I’m sorry that I made you cry, I feel really bad about that.” He averts his eyes, and I think I see a small glint of shame.

I physically can’t stay mad at him, and I make it very obvious when I envelop him into a rib crushing hug. He whispers a small thank you in my ear before I walk back to the other side of the island to unpack the food. As I start unpacking breakfast I feel arms wrap around my waist, and a chin resting on my shoulder.

I freeze up, and Chris mumbles a quick “is this okay?” Into my hair. I look around realizing that Matt and Nick don’t even notice, much too invested in their food to care. I nod my head, trying to will the rosy shade to leave my face.

I’m failing miserably.

after breakfast me and Chris went upstairs to watch a movie in his room. Matt was quick to respond in the worst way possible.

“Sock that wang before you bang… and please be quiet, I don’t want to hear my brother doin it”

Y/N: 😨

Chris: 😮

Nick: 😟

Matt: 😁

needless to say, me and Matt practically teleported upstairs and away from that mortifying experience. Me and Chris enter his room in a fit of laughter, practically collapsing onto the bed.

After a second I noticed that Chris had stopped laughing… his laughter is addictive, and I already missed it. I turned to see him staring at me with a look in his blue eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. He looked happy and sad and something else all at once.

“What?” I giggled as I said it, still thinking about what Matt said only a few minutes earlier.

“are you doing okay?” This question again… I never know what to say when people ask me that. Right now I’m doing great… but in 30 minutes, or a week, or even a month I might break down again.

that’s never the answer that people want. They want something simple, yes or no. He stares at me patiently waiting for my response, it makes me feel bad for not having one.

“I’m okay right now…” he gives me a quick nod before speaking again.

“Okay, will you tell me when you aren’t doing good?” Why is he offering this, he doesn’t want to deal with me. “You need a safe space, and you clearly aren’t going to tell Nick. Let me be your safe space.”

“okay”

With that we got comfy on his bed and found a movie.

“”“”“”“”“”

things carried on like this for months.

doing good.

going down.

running to Chris.

repeat.

he was always so sweet and caring. He would hold me while I cried Myself to sleep, he would walk me home early from an event if I wanted to leave, he would hold my hair back and get me a heating pad when my cramps got bad… no matter what, he was there. He had also started being more touchy in public, leaning into the fake relationship for those around us. It made me feel things that I tried to avoid for years.

I think I hate him… how DARE he make me fall in love with him, knowing that none of this is real. How dare he kiss me at parties, and hold me during movie nights, and make me feel safe when none of it is real for him.

“you okay baby?” He snaps me out of my thoughts with the use of his new favorite nickname for me. I melt when he calls me his baby, unfortunately a small part of me also dies inside every time I hear it.

“yeah, just a little tired.” We’ve been at this party for like three hours, and I haven’t even touched my drink. When Chris is tipsy he get more brave with his PDA, I don’t want to risk forgetting a single moment where he is touching me.

“do you want to walk home?” He doesn’t want to leave, he shouldn’t have to leave because I’m sad that he doesn’t love me.

“no. we should stay, you’re having fun. I’m actually going to go get a drink, maybe it will make me feel better.” He looks at me for a second before letting go of my hip, allowing me to grab a drink.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did I get here?

It’s like one second I was listening to Chris tell a story, and now I’m dancing to some annoying pop song. I need to find Chris, I definitely had a few too many drinks.

I stumbled around for a minute, everything is spinning and making me want to throw up. I don’t know if I can walk all the way home, but I don’t want to make all of them leave early. I grab my phone in an attempt to call Chris, but by the time he picks up I’ve forgotten what I was doing.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I look down at my phone to see that Y/N is calling me, and it makes me a little worried. I pick the phone up to my ear, trying to head over the sounds of music and talking. I don’t hear her, only making me more worried.

She almost never drinks, because she has a very low tolerance. Last time I saw her, she was already three drinks in and proclaiming her love for the song that was on.

That was an hour ago.

I quickly scour the crowd in an attempt to find her face. And when I do my heart drops.

There she is in her skin tight jeans and corset top, looking lost with tears in her eyes. I rush to her side, immediately pulling the drink from her hand. She looks like she’s about to start crying.

“hey baby, can you look at me please?” When I say that she starts crying and she doesn’t seem like she’s stopping any time soon. “Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to find somewhere quiet so that you can sit down for a minute?” She nods her head aggressively before stumbling towards the bedroom of whoever is hosting.

The Golden Trio

From: Chris

can y’all meet me in the master bedroom, Y/N is really drunk and needs to go home.

From: Nicky Bo Bicky

for sure, I’ll bring some water for her.

I turned to Y/N, she looked out of it. Then all of a sudden life came back to her eyes in the worst way possible. She almost fell down in her attempt to get to the bathroom.

“it’s okay baby” I whispered sweet nothings to her as I held her hair and rubbed her back. Nick and Matt showed up shortly after she finished dry heaving, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink anything as fast as she drank that water.

If I thought it was a hassle trying to get her in the car, I had no clue how hard it would be to get her up a flight of stairs. She giggled as I picked her up bridal style… it made me so happy to hear her laughing.

once she got into more comfortable clothes, she fell asleep in no time.

as she held onto me and nuzzled into my side, my heart shattered. All I want is for her to be happy, but I know that I can’t fix everything. I kiss her on the forehead before rolling over and going to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

#madi writes things #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x reader

[kiwiana-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius and @stereopticons for the tags! I know I’ve done this in the past, but it’s been a hot minute…

How many works do you have on ao3?

239!

What's your total ao3 word count?

822,937—but that’s a collaboration-boosted lie. Per my writing tracker, words that I have personally written and published on AO3 is 693,613

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly RWRB these days, but the majority of my back catalogue is Schitt’s Creek, with a few others sprinkled in for fun. The Pairing definitely made my brain whirr… we’ll see.

Top five fics by kudos:

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), RWRB, 65.5k, the Much Ado About Nothing stage actor AU

Kinda think that I might be his type, RWRB, 12.8k, Alex and Bea fake date and Alex gets a little distracted by Bea’s brother

We were supposed to find this, RWRB, 3.3k, soulmate AU

We always walked a very thin line, Happiest Season, 2.7k, Riley character study/alternate ending

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, RWRB, 5.8k, barista Henry repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth in front of his coworker crush

(This is how I learned Puck It has been knocked out of my top five 😭)

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! And absent a Schitt’s Creek resurgence of some kind that sees me absolutely inundated I don’t see that changing.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Five ways it could have ended (and one way it still could), Schitt’s Creek, 1.2k, for the love of god read the tags

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like… most of them? I love to end on a good HEA haha. For sheer joy, though, it’s probably With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest)

Do you get hate on fics?

From time to time. I’m very free with the delete button. Weirdly, it occasionally pops up in the AO3 comments but mostly seems to come to me via anons on tumblr??? I have no idea why.

Do you write smut?

It’s been known to happen, I guess 👀

Craziest crossover:

I haven’t written any AO3-era crossovers! A few fusions/media AUs, but no crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. I’ve only been asked once, and they wanted to post off AO3 which is a big heck nope for me (and my permissions statement has now been updated to reflect that)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Heck yeah I have. I’ve done several anthology-type collaborations where we each wrote a chapter in a fic, and I’ve fully cowritten fics with @ships-to-sail several times. We have another collab coming up for @aroyallybigbangrwrb and I’m also cowriting The Big Secret AU with @indestructibleheart which is essentially us one-upping each other on emotionally devastating ideas until someone writes them down. Good system 😂

All time favorite ship?

Stop making pansexuals choose things.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Look, the chances of kinktober 2021 being finished at this point are slim 😂

Schitt’s Creek kinkverse… I don’t know. I have little snippets written of future fics and they’re great but… idk. Maybe I’ll write one vignette-y wrap up fic one day.

What are your writing strengths?

Narrative POV, dialogue that feels like the characters, epistolary bullshit, smut apparently.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Coming up with actual plot lmao. Visual descriptors — I’m not even remotely a visual person so I really really struggle with writing the sorts of things people can visualise. Also like… the passage of time? A scam.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Love it. I’ll shoulder tap a fluent speaker if I need an actual sentence/anything Google isn’t super reliable for. Forever heartbroken that there are no fics in my second language in AO3 and no reason for me to be able to sprinkle it into my own writing (though one of the subscriber shindig prompts might be about to change that 👀)

First fandom you wrote in?

HP

Favorite fic you've written?

Stop! Asking! Pansexuals! To! Choose! Things!

I don’t know there are 239 of the bloody things 😂 I’m far more interested in what other people’s favourites are than what my own is!

I have no sense of who’s done this already so apologies if this is a double up but tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cricketnationrise @getmehighonmagic

@happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @nontoxic-writes

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play!

#20 questions for fic writers #kiwiana-writes

[sleepymccoy]

(Spock Prime is pov, McCoy Prime is referred to as Leonard, the aos trio are here too) (here's the full fic, this is the last chapter (spoilers!) and I'm posting it as a teaser cos I'm now releasing a sequel from the aos pov) (the tos one is really good tho you should read it) (if you like spones) (even if you don't actually)

“What’s the plan, Ambassador?” Kirk asked. 

“Yes, Ambassador?” Leonard asked. His had traveled down slightly, resting just above Spock’s arse. Spock blinked once, steadying himself, and found the few remaining threads of his restraint. 

“I might,” Spock said, hesitantly, “perhaps, retire my commission. Captain, would you facilitate a conver- ”

“What?” the other Spock asked. 

“Yeah, what?” Leonard repeated. He tapped Spock’s arse gently. “They told me about Vulcan, Spock, you’re working there. Good work.” Leonard’s frown was genuine, no glint of secret pleasure in it. He grimaced at Spock and addressed Kirk. “Ah, he’s just confused, ignore that.”

“Ambassador?” Kirk asked. 

“Take some time off,” Leonard cried out. He let go of Spock. “Shit, call in sick. I’ve been thinking about this longer than you.” He bent and fished his walking stick up off the floor. Spock went to pick it up first, but by the time he realised that Leonard was on the way down he’d already nimbly stood back up. “On that note, Doctor Me,” Leonard continued, waving the stick in the air as he stepped towards the trio, “how do you feel about having an older you running around? Well, caning around.”

Doctor McCoy laughed breathily, then frowned more seriously. “I’m not threatened by you, Doctor.” He nodded to the side, as if agreeing with Leonard, although Leonard had said nothing. “It is a bit strange.”

Leonard hummed doubtfully. McCoy broke the eye contact first, grimacing at Kirk. 

Leonard spun on his heel, using the walking stick to balance himself. When Spock had left the stick was new, now it acted as an extension of him. He had known Leonard would continue living, and had felt the grief of not knowing him. Seeing just how he had done so was simultaneously heartbreaking and joyous. 

“I could take your name,” Leonard said.

Could he possibly mean- ? Spock smirked. “Take it where?” he asked.

Leonard grinned. Spock’s heart jumped. He was definitely resigning his commission, he would not spend another moment separated, but they could discuss it later. 

“Cute,” Leonard said. His eyebrows raised high, his forehead creasing with wonderful age. “That marriage proposal still on the table, Mister?”

“Ah,” Spock breathed. He felt his counterpart’s eyes on him. “I never proposed to you.”

“Ooh, don’t be tricky now, sugar, I’m exhausted.”

He was leaning rather heavily on his stick now. “Of course it is, Leonard,” Spock whispered.

Leonard’s grin grew. “Ambassador and Doctor Spock!” 

Spock went to him, taking his elbow. Leonard heaved a sign, resting his weight on Spock’s hand. He had new sun spots on his cheeks, greyer hair, deeper wrinkles. But his eyes were precisely the same.

“Captain,” the other Spock muttered, “is this the best solution for- ”

“Quiet, it’s their choice,” Kirk said.

“Also,” said their McCoy, “three Spocks is hilarious.”

Leonard pulled Spock in for a kiss. He was alive and intimate. Spock was dizzy with this all. 

“I don’t wish to marry for function,” Spock said, lips dragging against Leonard’s. 

Leonard kissed him again, just quickly. “I got romance a’plenty for you, love.” He turned, throwing his head back to Kirk. “Can we leave?” He face Spock again, his hair mussed. “Do you have a ship?”

Spock smiled to himself, enjoying how Leonard’s eye caught the quirk of his lips. He positioned Leonard, directing how he stood, so that they both faced Kirk. Leonard winked at him and did not resist being moved.

“Yes, certainly,” Kirk said, with barely a beat of hesitation. He addressed Leonard. “We’ll beam your luggage aboard.”

Leonard nodded, patted Spock on the arse obviously then raised his hand to wave his farewell. He made his way steadily onto the transporter pad, muttering to himself. 

Spock addressed Kirk with a small bow. “Thank you, Captain. Means more to me than you know.”

Kirk put his hands up. “I was just the taxi driver, he did all the work.” He nodded warmly. “Good afternoon.”

“Sir,” Spock farewelled his counterpart. He met poor McCoy’s uncomfortable gaze. “Doctor.”

“Ambassador,” Doctor McCoy said stiffly. 

Spock accepted the farewells and followed Leonard. Leonard winked at him again. Spock’s heart fluttered, and the transporter took them. 

Spock still had his eyes on Leonard as they arrived on his ship. Leonard touched his own chest and abdomen, checking his wellbeing. 

“Do you require anything?” Spock asked quietly. 

“Ahh,” Leonard groaned, “it’s hot in here! Thank God, they keep that ship very cold, don’t they?” He tottered off, leaning on his cane and inspecting the walls. “I wonder how trim and stern deals with it.”

“Trim and stern?”

“Is this alright, Spock?” Leonard asked quickly. Spock wasn’t going to find out who trim and stern was, then.

Spock stood straight. “You had a whole life without me,” Spock said.

Leonard nodded. “I still do,” he said. “I said my goodbyes. I knew what I was doing, love. I’ll find something to do, probably on New Vulcan with you, they’ll need to start mixing up the gene pool to- ”

“Leonard,” Spock snapped, almost scolding him. He didn’t want to hear about work.

“Sweetheart.” Leonard hesitated, rubbing his hand against his mouth. “Listen, Spock, I don’t need you. I just want you.” He met Spock’s eyes slowly and licked his lips. “I want you every night, every morning. And I do what I want, damn it, so I’m here.”

Spock breathed out slowly. 

“Is it good?” Leonard asked, his voice tense. “I hope it’s good, my dear, I can’t take it back.”

“Very good,” Spock said, desperately quiet. He held his hand out, two fingers extended.

Two sharp cracks sounded as Leonard came to him immediately, his cane loud as he stepped. His fingers paired up and joined with Spock’s, as they finally, truly, kissed. 

#spones #spock #mccoy #spones fic

[secondtechnicianrimmer]

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: Suggestive content

Chapter Fourteen: Starbuggin’

//

It had been a nice day.

This wasn’t particularly notable or odd; you’d settled very happily into life aboard Red Dwarf, and now Starbug. It’s just that the general day-to-day usually tended to involve running from an insane creature, something exploding, and quite a lot of arguing. Boredom was often just as dangerous. But, so far, today had been lovely.

You had been lying on your bunk for most of the afternoon, a book raised above your head, your arms outstretched in front of you. There wasn’t much to do in the tiny ship; thankfully you’d thought to stock up on activities before you lost Red Dwarf.

When the position grew too tiring, you lowered your arms until your elbows rested on the mattress, the book now too close to be comfortable, but you didn’t mind.

Across the room, at a low table in the centre of the sleeping quarters, Rimmer was sat with his hands inside a perspex box. He’d had it for years apparently. Kryten had found the specifications in the holosuite a few months after he came back to the ship. Rimmer had never really found a lot of use for it. Now, all you had was time, and Rimmer was finally setting some aside to enjoy himself.

Inside the Holo-Box, heavy black gloves covered his hands, allowing Rimmer to gingerly cradle an old-fashioned Airfix model.

As he carefully dabbed a paintbrush against the side of something called a Spitfire, you smiled fondly to yourself.

Yes, it had been a lovely day.

“I’m gonna say it.”

Rimmer didn’t even bother looking up.

“Don’t.”

“I’m gonna.”

“I’m concentrating.”

With a sigh, you turned back to your book.

“I just think you should know-”

“Darling…”

“You’re much artsier than you give yourself credit for!”

Rimmer finally turned his head towards you, very obviously trying hard not to roll his eyes. He’d always been a bit softer with you, and lately he’d been trying harder to be less of a dick, but he still had trouble sometimes.

“This isn’t art,” he said firmly. “This is… Engineering.”

Your fond smile only grew.

“You’re painting model aeroplanes, Arn.”

“Exactly! Aeroplanes. That’s technical stuff!”

He was so determined to ignore any sense of his own creativity, you almost didn’t want to argue with him. Almost.

Plus he looked handsome today, and who were you to argue with Rimmer when he looked so good? His short-sleeved red shirt was enticingly soft, and those braces pulled tight over his broad shoulders constantly played on your mind. Sometimes, you came close to asking him to put his puffy uniform jacket on, because the sight of his lithe forearms and strong chest was almost too much to bear.

“Okay,” You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

You turned over on the bed so that you lay on your stomach, keeping your book open with your fingertips pressed against the twin swells of its pages.

“But maybe if you explored your creative side rather than berating yourself for not passing exams about things your brain doesn’t compute as well…”

Half-smiling and doing a bad job of hiding it, Rimmer shot you a weary look.

“That’s enough therapy out of you, Lefty. Let me concentrate.”

Grinning, you turned back to your book.

“Yes, dear.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rimmer’s back straighten, just a little.

There had been a marked shift in his confidence, in the general way he held himself, since your matching confessions that night. You hadn’t noticed it immediately, Rimmer had always been a little gentler about himself when it was you he was talking to, he’d learnt his lesson, so it took you a while to realise the change.

You couldn’t touch him, but there were a thousand other ways to show your affection. So far, you’d discovered that warm words, sweet names, and soft compliments worked the best. They made Rimmer’s shoulders sink, his jaw relax, as if just having someone be kind to him for once in his life was enough to loosen the vice around his chest. And he smiled more now. That was perhaps your favourite thing of all.

You turned your head and watched him work. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his curls falling across his forehead. There, at the corner of his mouth, his tongue was sticking out ever-so-slightly.

You let out a sigh, long and deep, and sank further into the bed. Folding your arms over your book, you rested your head there and silently watched Rimmer work, just enjoying the sight of him relaxed, comfortable, happy.

What you wouldn’t give to run your hands over those strong shoulders, to slip your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and tug slightly, just to see what he’d do. You couldn’t help imagining Rimmer’s eyes rolling back into his head, his taut back arching as you slipped into his lap and rocked your hips against his. He really was torture sometimes.

“What’s your book about?”

Your mind still swimming with thoughts of all the lovely sounds Rimmer might make as you grazed your teeth against his neck, it took you a moment to realise what he’d asked

You hummed, trying to cast your mind back. You couldn’t even recall the title of the novel you stole from a chef’s quarters all the way down on C Deck.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you admitted. “I haven’t been concentrating, really.”

“Hm? What were you thinking about?”

“You.”

You beamed at Rimmer when he turned to look at you, surprised.

“Me?”

You hummed, smiling.

“Y’know. What it’ll be like when I finally get to kiss you. Touch you.”

A pink tinge made its way across Rimmer’s cheeks and down his neck, almost blending into his bright red shirt. He visibly gulped, obviously thinking along the same lines as you. Then he looked back down at his model aeroplane, at the lengths he had to go to for something so simple.

“You really believe that’ll happen?” he asked softly.

“Don’t you?”

“I… I’m not sure. I used to. I hope it does.”

Rimmer went quiet then, his gaze still fixed on his model.

You carefully closed your book and slipped off the bed, curling up in the chair beside his instead.

“It will,” you said firmly. “I know it will. And until then, I have a very active imagination.”

To your delight, that made Rimmer glance up. He raised his eyebrows, a smirk tugging gently at the corner of his mouth.

“Is that so?”

You hummed and watched Rimmer’s gaze grow unfocused.

“You just wait. And, I mean, there’s always Better Than Life? I could touch you there, couldn’t I? We could have all sorts of fun.”

You watched, beaming, as his cheeks, then his ears, slowly began to turn bright red. Oh, he was fun. It was almost too easy, but it was fun.

Rimmer was sweet but he would always have a stick up his arse, it’s just how he was raised. Getting a physical reaction out of him, especially when he didn’t even have a proper physical presence, was always a brilliant game.

You leaned over the table a little more, sliding your elbow across its surface and resting there in his eye-line, so that he couldn’t help but look at you.

“Oh, Arnie, you’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are!”

Shaking his head, Rimmer tried very hard to pretend to concentrate on his model.

“I don’t think I can blush.”

“Oh, honey,” You grinned. “You definitely can.”

He shot you another weary look but he was still smiling.

“It’s a lovely idea,” he spoke with an unexpected gentleness. “But I think I’d rather wait.”

“Hm?”

“When I kiss you, I want it to be real. I want to be able to feel you properly.”

The air in the room shifted. Suddenly, you couldn’t remember what you’d been teasing him about.

All around you, outside the emerald, pockmarked hull of your adopted home, galaxies and stars whirled around each other, intertwining and exploding and dying and creating, over and over again. And here, in your stark grey quarters, in the middle of it all, Rimmer wanted to kiss you so badly, he was willing to wait for the impossible.

You watched as his smile grew. Rimmer’s eyes were fixed somewhere near your mouth, any vain attempts to hold your gaze long-forgotten.

Laughing softly, you pressed the backs of your fingers to your cheek.

“You’re going to make me blush.”

“Well, now, there’s a turn up for the books.”

Rimmer looked pleased with himself. Again, you considered how far he’d come. It wasn’t enough just to show him some positive reinforcement. Even when the boys were kind to him, Rimmer either didn’t think he deserved it or refused to believe they were being genuine. It had taken a lot of time, effort, and soft words to cultivate that lovely smile.

“I don’t mind waiting, you know.”

You nodded your head to the side, gesturing for him to remove his right arm from the Holo-Box.

“I love you, Arn. I don’t need anything physical. Even though I am constantly insanely horny.”

As you slipped your hand inside the leather glove, Rimmer gaped at you.

“I really do that to you?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes, actually!”

Your fingers now safely nestled inside the thick, sturdy glove, you twisted your wrist and tapped your index finger against the back of Rimmer’s hand.

“Well, you do. I’m always thinking about you.”

He flinched. You couldn’t blame him, it had been so long since he’d been able to touch, Rimmer was probably starting to forget what it felt like.

The Psymoon where you'd first kissed felt a million years ago now. Every second since had been filled with a dull ache, a wistfulness for something you weren’t able to really appreciate at the time.

You could half remember how he tasted, that his lips were soft and that his hands had felt heavy and awkward and painfully endearing as they hung from your hips. It was wonderful, but so quick and full of fear. You’d give anything to have another go.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to overwhelm him, you slipped your hand around Rimmer’s and awkwardly fitted your fingers together, fidgeting left and right until finally, your gloved hands interlaced.

“You should know by now, honey. I’ve got all sorts of ideas,” you said, grinning.

As if transfixed, Rimmer stared at your entwined hands. A muscle, slim and overworked, twitched in his jaw as he swallowed hard.

What it must be like to have no senses to guide you. He couldn’t taste his favourite foods, couldn’t read his favourite books, couldn’t leave Starbug without a hollow tug in his chest.

Ever since you lost Red Dwarf, the fear of shut down had been hanging over your heads. Whenever the old ship met a new threat to its survival, you could feel cold dread seeping through your veins, long after you knew you were safe. And you couldn’t comfort each other.

Worst of all, with everything he’d spat about his family over the years, you didn’t think Rimmer had ever known a gentle touch. And now he finally had someone who wanted to take care of him, to love him, and he couldn’t feel it.

Well, you’d never been one to back down from an argument, and arguing with the universe was about all you had, three million years from home.

Rimmer’s fingers tightened between yours, then folded, his fingertips resting against the back of your hand.

“Better Than Life is looking more and more appealing,” he mused.

You squeezed his hand.

“I think you’re right.”

“Another turn up for the books. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“We should wait,” you went on, laughing softly. “Just think how good it’s going to feel when I finally get to touch you.”

“Oh believe me, I do. Often.” Rimmer raised his eyebrows. “Several times a day.”

That made your heart trip over itself in its hurry.

It wasn’t like you to be shy around Rimmer. He was ridiculous, it was impossible to be intimidated by him or to ever feel like you didn’t have the upper hand. You could tease him all you liked, annoy him, laugh with him, but it was all a distraction from just how much you really, properly fancied the pants off him. And as embarrassing as it was, sometimes he did manage to fluster you.

It was rare that you’d admit it, though. Somehow, Rimmer managed to maintain a massive ego despite also carrying more self-hatred than anyone you’d ever met. He was complicated, but loving him wasn’t, and neither was finding him so stupidly fit, it did seem like some kind of cosmic karma that you couldn’t shove him onto his back and ride him till the bunk’s slats snapped.

But then something Lister had once suggested popped into your head. It had seemed stupid at the time, back when you were sure there was more chance of Kryten fancying you than Rimmer. But now…

“Well, you know,” You squeezed his hand again, finding the gloves awkward and uncomfortable, but you were grateful all the same. “We can’t touch each other but… We can touch ourselves. That could be fun.”

Rimmer looked like he might pass out, then suddenly he was beaming like a kid at Christmas.

“You mean… You’d want to..?”

“Yes, Arnie.” You leaned closer until your nose was almost pressed against his, your lips forced to stay just millimetres from touching. “I want you.”

You meant to say ‘to’. I want to. But ‘you’ was more accurate anyway, and it made Rimmer’s eyes slide shut with a sigh.

You watched his chest rise and fall heavily beneath his scarlet shirt, watched the fingers of his free hand tighten over the curve of his knee.

When he finally opened his eyes again, they were clouded with a kind of frustration you’d both come to accept. This was life now. Loving but never touching.

“So,” You smiled as you tilted your head the other way, your gaze fixed on Rimmer’s mouth. “Are you going to come back to bed with me, love? Or are you going to keep playing with your aeroplane all on your own?”

Rimmer stood up so fast, you were sure he would’ve knocked the table over if he’d been able to.

At exactly the same moment, a shrieking alarm pierced through the thick atmosphere, tearing it in two.

Rimmer groaned.

“Smegging hell.”

The lights flickered, then died altogether with a sickening whoosh.

You whipped around, your heart in your mouth. For a moment, you were back on the Atalanta, terrified and alone. But Rimmer’s voice sparked like a Catherine wheel in the dark. You followed the sound of your name, half blind with fear, until he’d brought you back to reality.

The lights blinked back to life, unsteady and anaemic, but enough to see by as you charged through to Starbug’s tiny cockpit, where the others were already seated.

“What’s going on?” you asked breathlessly.

“Swirly thing alert!

Cat was at the main joystick, while Lister jabbed at the communications and navigation controls.

“Where?” he asked, frantically searching for something, anything, out there in the dark.

Cat shook his head.

“It’s not on the radar yet but I can smell it.”

Kryten took his place at the rear, overseeing the shipboard systems and long-range sensors. You stayed in the doorway, watching over Rimmer’s shoulder as his short-range sensor readers remained blank.

“Nothing here,” he reported back.

“Nothing on long-range,” Kryten agreed. “Sir, is it possible you could have made a mis-smelling?

Immediately and predictably, they fell about arguing. As Cat took umbrage at Kryten’s suggestion, Rimmer and Lister began to bicker over whether stepping up to Blue Alert was worth the effort of flicking the switch.

Still stuck in the gangway without a seat, you clutched the doorframe, your arms out at your sides like a bird in flight, and prayed that whatever was out there would just bugger off so you could go back to seducing your boyfriend. One day of peace, was that really too much to ask for?

“Wait!” Kryten suddenly cried. “I've got something. I'm punching it up.”

Leaning over Rimmer to see his monitor better, you held your breath.

Set against the stars and the endless cold night, a bright orange streak ricocheted across the screen. If there hadn’t been so many alarms flaring, you might’ve thought it was a comet.

“Too small for a vessel,” Lister said. “Maybe some kind of missile?”

“A missile?” You frowned. “Who would fire a missile at us? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Kryten shook his head.

“It's impossible to tell at this range. Whatever it is, they clearly have a technology way in advance of our own!”

“So do the Albanian State Washing Machine Company.”

Working as a team, Lister and Cat steered Starbug out of harm’s way. The little ship groaned as it suddenly jerked onto a different path but did as it was told.

You gripped the back of Rimmer’s chair, your gaze fixed on the monitor.

“Arn…”

He looked up at you, his jaw set. You could see he was frightened but he forced a grim smile.

You hadn’t told the others yet. It wasn’t a concious thought, you just didn't act any differently around each other and the boys hadn’t noticed. You weren’t sure if that said more about how long you’d so obviously been infatuated with each other, or about their observational skills.

He wanted to comfort you but there wasn’t time. You wanted to kiss Rimmer’s cheek and tell him he was doing well, but you couldn’t. Instead, you shared a thin smile and prayed this wouldn’t be it.

“You should buckle in, darling.” He nodded back into Starbug’s hold, where there were plenty of safer places to stand. “This might get-”

As if to prove his point, the ship rolled to the left, throwing you against the doorframe.

Instinctively, uselessly, Rimmer’s hand shot out to grab yours.

“It's still with us!” Lister cried. “It's some kind of heat-seeker. We can't outrun it!”

The ship rocked again, then heaved a sickly groan as it veered onto yet another course.

Rimmer looked pale.

“What on Io was that?”

“Some kind of suction beam. We're being dragged down!”

//

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

[winchesterwild78]

Chance Meeting pt 20

Chance Meeting Master list

18+ Minors DO NOT interact

Please be kind and all mistakes are my own. All work is mine. Please don’t take or copy it.

Warnings: Fluff, Anxiety, pregnancy, SMUT, tension

A/N: lots of things happening in this chapter. Our lovebirds are moving forward with their lives and Ashley is hanging over their heads still. I edited this quickly, so please overlook any errors.

———————————————————————

About a month later you and Jensen were waiting to hear back from the police and his attorney about Ashley and the baby. Since the incident that landed you in the hospital you haven’t heard from her and she’s not been around. You were cautiously optimistic you wouldn’t hear from her.

Jensen insisted you two moved forward with the wedding plans. “Y/N I want nothing more than to marry you. I don’t want her to cast a shadow over our relationship and our marriage. Let’s set a date and start planning.” He said taking your hand. You smiled and shook your head yes. He cupped your face and kissed you softly.

“You know the area better than I do, where would you want to have the wedding” you asked him. “Honestly if you’re okay with it I was thinking the brewery. It has plenty of space and the area is beautiful. We can have the ceremony outside and the reception inside.” He said with a little hesitation. “It’s your choice though. I don’t care where we get married as long as I get to marry you.” He said with a smile. “Honey, it’s not just my choice. This is OUR wedding and I want us both to make the important decisions” you said kissing his lips. “So, has the brewery ever hosted a wedding before” you asked. “No, but it’s something we’ve always wanted to do.” Jensen said looking at you. “Well, let’s do it then. Our wedding being there will be a perfect opportunity to show how beautiful a wedding there could be. I’m sure people will try to book it for their wedding before we can even say I do.” You said laughing.

“I swear you’re an angel, Y/N. Even though this is our wedding you’re still thinking about other people’s happiness and livelihood. I love you so much.” Jensen said kissing your lips. “I love you too baby” you said.

So what time of year were you thinking” you asked. “How about tomorrow” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Well since it’s going to be outside I say we have it closer to Fall so it will be a bit cooler.” You said. “How about the day we met in October? What about October 12th” he said. “That’s perfect and we will never forget the date” you said winking at him. It was mid February so you felt like you had plenty of time to plan. You also were hoping the baby situation would be resolved before then. “So now all that’s left for us to do is tell our families we’ve set a date and start planning. I hope Gen can help as much as possible” you said. “Babe, is this gonna be a suit and tie kinda wedding or nice shirt and slacks” Jensen asked. “I think more casual and laid back. I have a dress idea in mind so that would fit perfectly with the theme. You can wear a simple shirt and slacks. No need to wear a suit and be uncomfortable.” You said laying your head on his shoulder. “I love that idea sweetheart. Keeping it laid back and comfortable is going to be so great.” He said.

You started texting family and friends letting them know you’ve set a date. Gen offered to help with anything you needed. As you’re texting Jensen’s phone rang. He answered it and you could tell from his end of the conversation it was his attorney. “Yes, oh that’s great. Yeah I can be there soon. Okay, yeah. See you then” he said before he hung up. You looked at him and he looked a little nervous. “So they have Ashley in custody and they have the DNA from the baby. They need me down at the hospital to give a DNA sample to see if I’m the father.” He said looked at you. Your heart was beating fast and panic started rising through your body. You spoke softly “okay. Go to the hospital so we can find out if the baby is yours or not. We need to know no matter the outcome.” You looked at him and tears pricked your eyes. You knew he didn’t betray you, but this situation still hurt. Jensen walked over to you and pulled you into his strong arms. Rubbing your back he kissed your head. “I love you so much, and whatever the outcome that’s not going to change it. Come with me please.” He said as he kissed you. You nodded yes and started to get ready to leave.

You sent Gen a text to let her know what was going on. She told you she’d meet you at the hospital if you needed her and you said you were fine, but thank you. The ride to the hospital was quiet. Tension crackling in the air. Jensen was nervous. His leg kept bouncing as he drove. You just stared out the window trying not to cry. Jensen pulled into the hospital and parked. He took your hand and held you as the two of you walked in the hospital. His attorney met you two at the entrance and took you to the lab. Once in the lab they swabbed the inside of his cheek gathering as much DNA as they could. The lab technician told Jensen there was a rush put on the test and the results should be back in a few hours. Jensen thanked them and walked out.

You stood and he took your hand. “They said it should be a few hours before we know.” He said walking out with you. “Okay, hopefully we hear something soon.” You said nervously. “Is she still here at the hospital” you asked his attorney. “Yeah, she has to stay for observation after the procedure for at least a night. She’s guarded so she’s not going anywhere.” The attorney said. “Jensen, I want to go talk to her.” You said looking at him. “Are you sure” he asked you. You nodded yes. He asked his attorney if it was okay and he said he didn’t see why not. The three of you returned to the hospital and you rode the elevator to the floor she was on.

Stepping off the elevator your stomach was doing flips. You were nervous but you needed to speak to her. Jensen held your hand as you approached the door. The police officer and Jensen’s attorney talked for a second and then they motioned you towards them. “You ready sweetheart” Jensen asked walking towards the door. You shook your head yes. Jensen pushed open the door and you heard the fetal monitor and heard the rapid heartbeat of the baby. A lump formed in your throat.

Ashley looked up and saw Jensen first. “Oh my god. You came back to me. I knew you loved me and you would do the right thing” she said smiling at him. Then you stepped out from behind him. Her eyes narrowed and she hissed “what the hell is she doing here”. “I’m here to talk to you. Jensen and I have talked and if this baby is his then he will step up and be there for him. Any decisions about him will be left up to the both of you. However, you will have to respect me as his wife and our family. I will respect you as the baby’s mother, but you will not try to put a wedge between Jensen and I. It’s not going to work. If you can’t respect that then we will have no choice but to set up a visitation arrangement where someone else brings the child to Jensen.” You told her standing between her and Jensen. You weren’t going to let her intimidate you.

She huffed at you and said fine. Ashley looked at Jensen and said “hey Jens do you want to feel him kick” You cringed when she called him Jens. He looked at her and then at you. “Honey if you want to you can. It’s fine” you said offering him a soft smile. “Ashley, I think it’s better if I don’t. I want to know if the child is mine before I start getting involved” Jensen said looking at her. You thought to yourself “oh thank god”. You felt horrible for thinking it, but the thought of him touching her made you sick to your stomach. She pouted but didn’t push him.

“Honey, we need to leave. We’ve got plans tonight” you said wrapping your arm around his. He leaned in and kissed your head. “We will talk to you later Ashley. Once we get the results we’ll be in touch” you said looking at her. “Have a good night and get some rest” Jensen said. “Bye Jens. We love you” She said rubbing her belly. You gripped his arm tightly and walked towards the door.

Once outside the room you let out the breath you had been holding. Jensen pulled you into his arms and held you tight. You sobbed. So overwhelmed with seeing her, hearing the heartbeat and scared the baby is his. The possibility seemed to be better than you thought. You were scared. Even though he said it wouldn’t change anything you knew it would. You would have to put up with the woman who assaulted you for the sake of the child. You wanted her out of your lives. Now it seemed like she was there for the rest of your lives.

Once you calmed down you and Jensen left the hospital and headed home. The drive home was quiet. Jensen nervously bit his lip and you sat staring out the window. When you got home you both walked the house and kicked off your shoes. You both collapsed on the couch. Jensen took you in his arms and you laid your head on his chest. “We’re going to get through this together baby. I promise. I love you and I intend on spending the rest of my life showing you how much I do.” He kissed your lips. First it was soft and gentle. Then he kissed you deeply and the kiss became more passionate.

His hands tugged at the hem of your shirt and then under it. You gasped at his touch. His hands roamed up and over your breasts. He pulled your bra down and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your head flew backwards and you let out a loud moan.

You helped him remove your shirt and he unhooked your bra exposing your breasts to the chilly air. He removed his shirt and you straddled him. You moved your hips down onto him. Jensen’s hands ran down your back and pulled you into a kiss. As he pulled away he bit your bottom lip. You moaned. You stood and removed your pants and soaking wet panties. Jensen removed his pants and boxers exposing his hard cock. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him. You straddled him again and used a hand to help guide him through your folds. You slowly slid down his shaft as you felt yourself stretching around him. Jensen and you moaned as you pushed down all the way. You put your hands on the back of his neck and he dug his fingers into your hips. You began bouncing up and down taking him in as deep as you could. The sounds of moaning and flesh hitting flesh filled the air. Jensen quickly turned and laid you on the couch and began thrusting deeper into you. You reached your hand between you and Jensen and started rubbing your clit. You felt the coil tightening and your walls clenching around Jensen. His thrusts got deep and fast helping you chase your release. “Jens I’m close” you panted out. “I know darlin, I am too. Cum for me” he said as he quickened his pace. Your walls clenched as you came hard. Jensen followed you and came deep inside. Grunts and moans echoed through the house. As you both came down from your high Jensen got up and grabbed a washcloth to clean you both up. He laid beside you on the couch and kissed you softly.

“I love you Y/N” Jensen whispered. “I love you too, Jensen” you said as you snuggled into his arms. Being in his arms you felt safe and truly loved. Jensen grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and covered the both of you. He started rubbing your back as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You breathed in taking in his intoxicating smell. You both sighed softly and you giggled a little. Jensen smiled.

Jensen pulled you as close as he could and the two of you laid in the comfortable silence that fell in the house. You closed your eyes starting to drift off to sleep when the silence was broken by the ringing of the phone. Jensen growled and pulled you close. You giggled “babe you need to answer your phone. It could be important���. He sighed and sat up grabbing his phone. He looked at the caller ID and shot you a look. The look sent a flood of panic through you. You sat up pulling the blanket over your body. Jensen answered the phone. “Yes this is he. Okay. Yes I understand. Okay, so it’s accurate. Right, will you let the attorneys involved know.” His end of the conversation instantly told you the results were in. His face was stone. No emotion and no indication of what the results were. Your heart beat so fast you heard it thumping in your ears. You felt nauseous and a lump formed in your throat watching him. Jensen thanked the person on the phone and hung up. Your y/c/e eyes met his and he bit his lip. “Um, that was the lab. The DNA results are back.” He said looking at you. You tried to study his expression but he was unreadable. You took his hand and said “Jens, remember we are in this together. Whatever the results we will deal with this together.” You said on the verge of tears. Jensen took a deep breath “the results are….

To be continued………

Forever tags: @nescaveckdaily @nescaveckwriter @kr804573 @jensengirl83 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373

#hes gorgeous #jensen ackles x plus size reader #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #supernatural convention #chance meeting #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader #jackles

[mistyyhaze]

I just wanted to add that I was always under the assumption Endo might make Damian just deduce that Anya could read minds, and then cue the arc where we learn about her past as a result when she tries to cope to her biggest secret coming out.

But this, this is much better than I could’ve expected. I love the fact that Anya made the decision to tell Damian, in fact, from the paneling it looked like it just spilled out of her. She couldn’t help it because she trusted him, because she saw him as someone she relates to, because she saw him as someone she could confide in. He confided in her right before it where he basically admitted that he yearns for a family like hers. The scene itself just feels so comforting, like her face when she said it, the light shading in the scene. It’s such a cathartic moment for the two of them and I love that for them

#yes I’m still thinking about the chapter #even when I read it 4 hours ago #it’s okay tho #damianya #spy x family manga spoilers #sxf #Damian Desmond #Anya forger #spy x family chapter 96

[chuluoyi]

i’m writing unholy matrimony rn and feeling so so so emotional

#bc of the angsty scenes yes 😫 #but this is also the last i’m writing for unholy matrimony🥺 #i still can’t believe i’m about end this series that has been with me since this blog starts🤧 #i think it’s going to be the longest chapter yet🥹 #—chu’s ramblings 🗯️