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fandom-oneshots-etc · 1 year

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✨ Dropping by to request literally anything sherlock x reader - would love something with awkward idiots in love ✨

🍄 Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: When Sherlock goes off on a frantic tangent, John knows exactly who to call, the idiot in love with him...

🍄 Word Count: 2084

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: N/A

🍄 Note: I hope this is what you were looking for Anon! :)

“What’s he doing this time?” you answered the phone as John’s name appeared. You had become so accustomed to the calls at all odd hours of the day, usually all pertaining to your high-functioning sociopath of a friend, Sherlock. Odd hours like the one now.

You had just sat down in your cloud chair, kindle in hand ready to read the next chapter of your gripping (b/g) when the phone had pinged, angrily vibrating against the coffee table-top. A puff of air had moved the stray hairs touching your face as you instantly recognized the personalized ring tone you had installed. You knew that John wouldn’t call you unless it was at least a code blue, blue-in-the-face blue. A colour code the two of you had created to describe the different moods of Sherlock Holmes.

“I’m so sorry-” You rolled your eyes with a little smile. “He’s just off on one. He solved the case, you know the one with the woman and the suitcases? He’s been off the walls since then. Can’t get him to settle, he’s talking about renovating the flat, knocking walls down for more ‘thinking space’. I think Mrs Hudson’s threatened to evict him already,” You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips at the thought of the sweet old woman threatening your tall friend, knowing very well that she’d mean every word. You could already picture the offended horror on Sherlock’s face at her threats.

“I’m on my way,” you reassured before hanging up the phone and pushing yourself out of the comfortable chair. Slipping your kindle into your bag, you grabbed your keys from the hook and turned off the lights. You didn’t bother changing out of your night clothes,, instead your threw a long coat over your pajamas and slipped on your trainers before heading out of the flat. You weren’t exactly keen on the idea of getting a cab this late at night, but you preferred that over walking the streets alone in the dark.

Thankfully, Baker Street was only a few roads away and the journey was nice and short with the lack of traffic at this time of night. Looking up at 221B you could see tat it was one of the only lights on in the street. You slipped the spare key out of your bag and unlocked the door to 221B.

Mrs Hudson reached the bottom of the stairs in an angry flurry huffing as she passed, a few rushed ‘oh dear’s escaping her lips as she passed you, only briefly making eye contact as she scurried back into her flat, red-faced. Taking that as your cue, you started up the stairs to the flat, fully expecting to see the flat in complete disarray, and you weren’t disappointed.

The papers from the now-closed case were still strewn across the flat, stuck to the walls, laid out on the desk, tucked under the tea cups on the small side table. The tea cups, several sat on the desk untouched and probably growing a few types of fungus that Sherlock could happily describe for you. The pillows from the sofa were thrown about the flat as Sherlock stood on the sofa, feet buried in the sofa cushions and tape measure I hand as he stretched it across the wall in front of him, a HB pencil clenched between his teeth.

“Thank God you’re here!” John poked his head out of the kitchen as if weary of the man in the living room. He gestured for you to step into the kitchen, with a final glance at the tall consulting detective, you slipped into the kitchen.

“How long has he been like this?” you asked, setting your bag down on the cluttered kitchen table. Piles and piles of old experiments were stacked tall, filling up almost the entire surface of the table and from the darkening black patch by one of the chairs you had no doubt that Sherlock had blown something up today, yet another thing to add to the list of problems for you and John.

“A couple of hours now, I stupidly thought that solving the case would change his mood, but it only seemed to make him more antsy for another one-” He sighed. “Sorry it’s so late, I know you usually sit down and read about now. I didn’t want to bother you but with Mrs Hudson threatening eviction I thought it best not to wait.” You smiled at your friend and shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been a while since he’s been like this so it was expected sooner or later. Better sort him out before Mrs Hudson really does chuck him out.” The two of you chuckle at the thought of a homeless Sherlock, it’s not really a sight either of you can imagine fully. But you had no doubt that his homeless network would really find him the best spots in London to squat.

“You don’t mind if I take a quick walk do you? I’ve been cooped up in here for a few hours trying to sort him out, just need bit of fresh air.” You shook your head and hurried John out of the kitchen door and down the stairwell. You knew it would be easier to deal with Sherlock without John around anyway. Not that John was a problem, but with Sherlock like this and his habit of making unsavory comments without fully thinking of the consequences, it would be easier than having a row start between the two flat mates.

You paused for a moment and brushed your finger against the black mark on the table top and inspected the pad of your finger. That’ll come off with some polish, you decided. Stepping back out of the kitchen and into the living room, your eyes zeroed in on the consulting detective who had now abandoned the tape measure and was gently knocking against the wall looking for a hollow sounding area.

“No.” You spoke clearly, catching the attention of the detective who had yet to notice you. Spinning on his heels, his eyes flashed at you wide and adorable. It kind of reminded you of a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. His mouth started to open but you shut him down quickly. “No,” You gave him a stern look. “That wall has all of the major electricity lines and one of the main water pipes. No.”

“There’s no way you could possibly know that just from looking at the wall-” Sherlock argued.

“No I couldn’t. I know because I had to get the schematics for the flat after you started shooting the walls because you were banned from in-person cases and blew the power out in this side of London,” You reminded. “An event that Mycroft still calls ‘The Great COVID Blackout’.” Sherlock’s nose scrunched at the mention of his brother. “Now, are you going to sit down or am I going to have to use that self-defense training program you insisted I go on to incapacitate you?” You could almost see the cogs turning in his head as his eyes narrowed at you, trying to deduce if you were serious or not. Your unwavering stance must have given him his answer as he slowly stepped down from the sofa and settled his feet back on the floor calmly.

“Why are you here?” You were very rarely offended by Sherlock’s blunt words, it just wasn’t worth the energy when you also knew that he rarely meant it to come across in that way. “No, don’t answer that. You’re here in your night clothes, your kindle is tucked in your bag and your hair is done up which means it’s late- John called you. Why?”

“Probably because his roommate was threatened with eviction after planning to renovate their rented flat and set the landlady off.” “Mrs Hudson wouldn’t evict me. She still owes me for getting her husband executed.”

“Favours do expire Sherlock. They have their limits.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Really?” You nod. “Oh. Well John wouldn’t let her evict me.” “Have you been experimenting today?” You think back to the two mugs settled on the kitchen counter, one sporting a brownish green sludge at the bottom.

“Yes, why- Oh.”

“Right come on,” You clapped your hands, moving towards him and grabbing one of his hands to pull him over to his chair. You ignored the sounds of protest from Sherlock as you settled on the chair and tugged on his arm. “Sit down,” you instructed. Sherlock sighed and complied, dropping onto the floor and crossing his legs underneath him. You grabbed the TV remote and switched it on. “What should we watch? Bones or Criminal Minds?” you pondered.

“Why do we have to watch a crime show? They’re always so inaccurate-” You flick the TV onto an episode of Criminal Minds. “Look, the killer’s using tape- what about finger prints? They don’t need to study his behaviour, just find the prints-” You smiled softly, fiddling with a few strands of Sherlock’s curly hair in your lap as he rattled on about the mistakes of the Unsub and the BAU team.

It was around an hour later that John returned to the flat. Pushing open the front door of 221, he was relieved to hear nothing. The light under Mrs Hudson’s door was now off, meaning she had slipped into bed, no longer tormented by her tenant’s renovation plans. The light on the landing let off a soft glow as John started up to the flat. A heavy wave of relief swept through him as he noticed the lack of banging, drilling, sawing or any construction noises at all. You had managed to talk him out of it for now. He reached the top of the stairs and could hear the muffled sounds of the TV in the flat. Stepping into the kitchen he could see that the place was still a pig sty but at least there wasn’t any knocked down walls or partially constructed extensions. The mess could be dealt with in the morning.

As he turned the corner and peeked - still a little cautiously into the living room - a soft smile graced his face. Your back was pressed against one of the arms of Sherlock’s chair, your legs swung over the opposite side. Sherlock’s was still perched on the floor with his legs crossed, his head dropped back against your stomach, with your right hand resting on top. Your fingers rhythmically threading through his curly brown locks, soothingly. John flicked his eyes up to the TV screen to see an episode of Criminal Minds playing, Sherlock’s face scrunched in distaste as he watched the team profile the murderer. Your other hand held your kindle tightly, your fingers set comfortably around the flower pop socket on the back as you occasionally flicked the pages with your thumb.

John couldn’t help but watch in awe for a moment. No one he knew had ever been able to soothe Sherlock in the way that you could. Not him, not Mrs Hudson and certainly not his brother, not even his parents had this calming effect that you had. He wondered if Sherlock would ever confess to the effect you had on him, or explain why you had such an effect on him. John knew the reason, Mrs Hudson knew the reason… did Sherlock? Did you?

You were always just as oblivious as Sherlock. John had mentioned to you once or twice about how you effected the consulting detective, but you couldn’t see it. You wouldn’t admit to the effect you so clearly had on him nor would you confess to the butterflies that whirled in your stomach whenever you were this close to him.

You caught John’s eye and must’ve made an educated guess of what he was thinking as you rolled your eyes and shook your heads. Deciding that now was probably not the time to bring up the obvious pink elephant that shared the living room with the three of you, John mouthed a ‘thank you’ to you and you nodded, letting out a quiet yawn. He bidded a quick farewell to the pair of you before shuffling out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room. On his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but wonder how long the two of you would remain oblivious.

As he reached the top of the staircase he paused and chuckled. Lovesick idiots.

#sherlock x reader #sherlock oneshot #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes #sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes oneshot #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock oneshot #bbc sherlock imagine #request #reqs open #requests open #anon ask

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mermaidgirl30 · 4 months

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Chapter 5: Let Me Take You There✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has been a work in progress for 2 months, but it is finally here! Moodboard made by @mrsmando 🩵 I have been working on so many things lately, but I’m so happy with how this chapter turned out. I hope you enjoy 🥰 No beta for this one, but thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @littlevenicebitch69 for letting me share snippets with you and scream about these two 🩷

Chapter Summary: After your parents cancel your weekend trip to Galveston at the last minute, Joel offers to take you instead.

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Word Count: 10.5k

Chapter Tags: Joel takes reader to Galveston, road trip, oral receiving (both male and female), unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, reader and Joel being in love, bondage, vibrator use, lots of fluff and smut, switching POVs, no use y/n

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Tuesday evening, a few days after your birthday and you’re sitting at the kitchen table eating takeout Mexican food. You’re not alone with your parents; your dad invited Joel over to watch some college game with him. He sits next to you, leg digging into yours as you let yours mold into his. His leg is strong, firm, holding you together as you let it rest against yours. You want to be in his arms, let him hold you tight while you drown in his lips, in his taste, but you can’t. Not here, not right now.

You take another bite out of your chicken enchilada and pop another chip drowned in queso in your mouth, letting the juicy flavors run down your throat as it hits just the right spot.

“Hey, sweetie, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. You know the Galveston trip this upcoming weekend?” your dad asks, finishing off a bite of his cheesy quesadilla as he sips from his tall water glass.

“Yeah, what about it?” you ask through another bite of enchilada.

“We’re gonna have to cancel the trip,” he says sadly, taking another bite out of his dripping quesadilla like he has no care in the world for the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What?” you ask, shocked. You drop your fork and it goes tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud clunk against the hardwood. Joel doesn’t hesitate and reaches his long arm down, picking up the ruined fork and setting it on the table next to him.

“I’m sorry, hun. Your aunt May and Charlie are making a surprise visit down, and they’re gonna come stay with us for the weekend. We wanted to tell you Thursday, but we didn’t want to ruin your weekend,” she says with apologies all over her uneasy tone.

“Why couldn’t you just tell them we already had plans? You’ve never canceled this trip before!” The words come out stronger than you want them to, hurt written all over your angry voice. They knew this weekend was important to you. They knew.

Joel places a hand discreetly on your thigh to help soothe you, but you barely register his gentle touch with how mad you are.

“We tried, hun, but the plans just fell through. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to go. Maybe next year…”

You interrupt your mom. “Maybe next year?” you ask quietly with your lip quivering around your words. This trip was important to you. It was always something you looked forward to, but now it was ruined. You feel the backs of your eyes burn with hot tears, but you won’t let them see. They don’t deserve to see you crumble. You’ll just go sulk in your room.

Joel sees how upset you’re getting, sees the way you’re trying to keep it together at the table. He digs his thick fingers into the flesh of your knee and knits his brows together as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You feel his concern through the connected skin. As much as you want to place your hand over his, you just need a few minutes alone.

“If you’ll excuse me, I just lost my appetite,” you say as you push back your chair and feel Joel’s warm fingers drop from your skin.

As you leave the room and make your way up the towering steps, you hear your dad say something under his breath. “She just needs to cool off. She’ll be fine.”

For some reason those words just make you more frustrated as you tread up the stairs, letting a hot tear collapse down your cheek as your vision begins to blur. Stupid trip, stupid aunt, stupid everything. You can kiss goodbye to any chance of your ocean weekend getaway because it isn’t happening.

You slam the door closed and flop onto your bed, curling your knees into your chest as you let the tears fall. You try to keep yourself together, but you’re too angry, too sad, too hurt. It might not be a big deal to them, but it is to you. So you burn with the heat inside your body and let it swallow you whole.

Joel takes a stiff drink of his iced tea and looks over at George. “You didn’t tell me you were canceling the trip,” he says slowly, trying not to show the concern in his voice as he worries about you wallowing alone in your room.

“It just came up. May isn’t usually the type to just drop in, so we thought we’d better stay home and let them come on down. I feel bad, but sometimes things come up, ya know?” George says through a bite of a crunchy tortilla chip, not seeming all that concerned about his daughter.

“That’s too bad. She seemed really excited. I think you crushed her,” Joel says as calmly as he can without getting all worked up himself. The thing was, he hated seeing you upset, would never dream of ever making you feel that way. And now he felt obligated to make you feel better. He had to because you’re his girl, and he always takes care of his girl.

“We are really sorry. We just hope she’ll forgive us,” Claire says with a sigh huffed in between bites of her dinner.

“Yeah. Joel, the game’s back on, you ready to go finish it?” George asks as he gets up and starts heading toward the living room.

“Oh, yeah. Just go ahead and turn it on. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Gonna head up to the bathroom first,” Joel says as he pushes back his chair and heads toward the stairs.

“Alright, don’t take too long,” George calls as he disappears into the dark living room. Joel prowls up the stairs quietly and heads toward your room.

You wipe the last tear away from your cheek and look at yourself in the mirror across the room. You definitely look like you’ve been crying with your tinted red eyes and wet sleeves that leave traces of tears on the back of the aquamarine color. You feel like a complete mess.

Just then, you hear the click of the door handle and the squeak of hinges as Joel opens the door and slowly shuts in behind him. You silently gasp as you hope he doesn’t notice you were crying, but he probably will. He always notices.

“Hey, you okay there, darlin’?” Joel asks as he comes over and sits on the bed beside you, his eyebrows knit together with worry as his brown eyes stare intently at you.

“Mhm,” you hum out faintly as you keep your eyes locked on the cream carpet.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” he says as his hand brushes up against the side of your thigh, almost calming you down as your insides still rage like a hurricane.

“I’m fine, just a little upset is all,” you mumble out, holding back anymore tears that may spill over the edge.

“Hey, look at me,” he says gently as he cups your chin carefully and turns your face to him. His brown eyes are full of concern, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours at all.

“Where’s that smile that I love so much, huh? C’mon, baby. Let me see it,” he coaxes as he lifts the corners of his mouth into a warm smile, the sight instantly calming you down.

He slowly unfolds you, and you can’t help but break when you see his crooked smile splayed across his face. It’s your favorite thing in the world. You drop the frown and replace it with a gentle smile as he trails his calloused thumb against your jawline, making you relax into his touch.

“Ahh there’s my girl. The one with the beautiful smile,” he presses as the words send a quick giggle out of you. “Attagirl,” he praises as you get lost in his soft brown eyes. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, making your insides coat with tingles at the warmth of him.

“Thanks for making me feel a little better,” you sigh as you fall into his chest and lean your head into the crook of his neck as he gently runs a hand through your hair, soothing you into a calm state.

“I’m sorry about this weekend,” he apologizes as he gently combs his fingers through your hair.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault my parents canceled at the last minute. It’s whatever. I didn’t even want to go that bad anyways,” you pout as you jut your bottom lip out.

“Oh, yes you did, sweetheart. I saw how upset you got down there. This trip meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he asks as he trails his large hand up and down your back repeatedly.

“Yeah, it did,” you sigh, letting the thoughts wash out of your head so you don’t get upset again.

“What if you could still go?” he asks as your body goes still underneath his touch.

“Huh?” you ask as you pull your head up and sit up straight. “Still go? What do you mean?” you ask, confused because the trip had already been canceled.

“What if you could still go, would you?” he asks as he pushes a fallen stray curl away from his forehead.

You ponder his question, wondering why he’s asking such a silly thing. “Of course I would, but why are you asking?” You raise an eyebrow and look at him curiously, trying to decipher his meaning.

“Because,” he starts, straightening out his button-up blue flannel, “what if I take you?”

Your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide. “What?” you ask with a locked jaw expression, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What if I take you? Just you and me. We could stay the weekend, get a little sun, maybe swim some, explore Galveston.”

“You’d do that for me?” you ask with teary eyes as he connects his hand with yours, entwining his fingers with yours as you feel them burn the back of your skin.

“I’d do anything to see that pretty smile, sweetheart,” he says with the curl of his lips and the dimple that presses deep into his cheek.

He’s so fucking beautiful and sweet and so loving. How did you ever get so lucky?

“Joel…”

“Let me take you to Galveston, please. I’d love nothing more, truly,” he says with genuine brown eyes.

You start to tear up, vision blurring as the tears lick at the edges of your eyes and start to fall against your cheeks. Joel cups your face with his big hands and wipes away the falling tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter? Why are you cryin’, darlin’?” he asks worriedly as he looks into your eyes intensely, concern lathered in those doe eyes of his.

“You’re just… you’re just so good to me, Joel. Why are you so perfect?” you cry out as another hot tear falls from your eyes. Joel catches it with the tip of his thumb and brushes it away effortlessly.

“I’m nowhere near perfect,” he chuckles as he keeps his brown eyes on you, “I just know how much the trip meant to you, and there’s no way I’m letting that get taken from you. You wanna go? Then we’re going. I’m not gonna see you disappointed, baby. I’ll take you there myself, and I’m gonna make sure you enjoy every second of it,” he confirms as he drops his hands from your face.

You suck in a breath and slam into his broad chest as you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. God, I love you so much,” you breathe into his ear, feeling one of his hands come to cup the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.

“You’re so welcome. And I love you, too, sweetheart. Never gonna stop,” he says slowly into your ear, making every part of you completely lose it for him.

You lift your chin up and slowly plant your lips on his, letting the moment move slow, delicately, passionately. You sink into his weight and let him devour your lips, your tongue, your everything.

Joel Miller was the definition of everything, and you’d never ever let him go.

The cool breeze of November blows in a rush through your long locks of hair as you lean your head out the window, the air crisp and smelling of pine trees as you rest your elbows on the edge of the door and enjoy the taste of freedom. The radio hums low through the speakers as you feel Joel’s eyes on your back, feeling his warm smile on your skin as you close your eyes and take in this beautiful moment.

The drive to Galveston is relaxing, the sun kissing your skin as you bathe in warm sunlight. Joel taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel along to an AC/DC song that plays quietly throughout the truck. You take a moment to turn toward him, leaning your head on the back of the seat as you admire the beautiful man that sits before you. Tousled curls with grey threaded through his thick locks, a blue flannel that tugs at his muscular biceps, a glowing smile that reflects off the backs of your eyes as you soak him up, painting a pretty picture in your mind that you’ll surely take to your grave.

Joel catches you staring and reaches an arm out as he snatches your fingers and pulls your hand up to his plush lips. He grazes his lips against the back of your knuckles and laces his fingers through yours as he pulls your hand into his lap, holding tight as he drives along the vacant highway.

You blink twice and smile as you watch him drive, your hand on top of his thigh as he looks over and sees you in a lovesick daze. “What are you smilin’ ‘bout, hmm?” he asks as he smirks your way, arching an eyebrow as he drives along.

“Oh, no reason. Just can’t believe you’re taking me all the way to Galveston.”

He squeezes your hand gently and looks over at you as the crow’s feet crinkle around his warm eyes. “Well, believe it, baby. Gotta keep my girl happy. And trust me, I wouldn’t wanna spend the weekend doin’ anythin’ else.”

You scoot over to his side, unfastening your seatbelt as you nuzzle up into the side of his neck, catching the edge of his greying scruff. He tsks at you as he eyes you with your seatbelt off. “Seatbelt on, baby. Don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”

You huff out a response, batting your long eyelashes up at him. “I just wanted to be next to you. Being in the passenger seat was too far away,” you pout.

He rolls his eyes and sighs, putting a strong arm around you as he hugs you into his side. “You’re a handful, you know that?” You giggle out and he just shakes his head. “Guess you can stay right here, can’t say no to my girl.”

You beam up at him, reaching up to leave a sweet kiss against his tanned cheek while you wrap your arm around his hip and nuzzle back into the warm, woodsy scent of his flannel. You still can’t believe you’re going to the beach with your boyfriend, your dad’s best friend, and you can’t even fathom how he fell in love with you in the first place, but you’re so glad he did because you think he’s the love of your life.

Joel stops on the way to Galveston at Buc-ee’s, and the both of you jump out and grab all your favorite snacks for the long ride. The two of you share a bbq sandwich, grab fountain drinks, a bag of Doritos, beef jerky, and numerous bags of candy. When you’re back in the truck and driving down the long highway, you’re back against Joel’s side and leaning your head on his shoulder while you slowly chew on a piece of salted beef jerky.

He leans down and bites off a piece of it which makes your head fall back and laughter flow out the cracked window. Who knew that a simple road trip with your dad’s best friend would be the most exciting thing to happen this year? You never saw it coming, but neither did he. He just made you that happy. You’d be content just sitting by his side, reading a book while he watched a baseball game on tv. It was simple really, you were just that in love with Joel.

He takes another bite and hugs you tight against his side while his fingers slowly trail up and down your outer arm, making tingles flow down your spine. “So, what’d you tell your parents? Reckon your mother gave you a mouthful for leavin’ on the weekend you have family comin’ into town,” Joel says as he keeps one hand on the leather steering wheel, his eyes vigilant on the straight road ahead.

You sigh, leaning your head on his broad shoulder. “Told them I was having a girl’s trip this weekend in Dallas. My mom was pissed, but she’ll get over it.”

He nods his head, tongue sliding over his bottom teeth as he eyes you from the corner of his vision. “I’m sure she’ll get over it quick. Besides, how can she stay mad at a pretty face like yours, hmm?” He cups your chin as his calloused fingers slide against your smooth skin, leaning over to give you a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smile up at him, your cheeks warming from the golden sun and his soft touch. He really is the sweetest guy you know. “Thanks, Joel. You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Always here for ya, baby.” He laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand up to his lips while he lays gentle kisses across your dainty knuckles.

When he releases your hand to focus on driving again, you pick out a sucker wrapped in pink paper and slowly unfold the sweet treat. You pop it into your mouth slowly and savor the cherry flavor on your tongue. Joel watches you lick at the sucker, your tongue sliding along the see through candy, eyes growing dark when he watches you pop it out of your mouth with drool sticking to the top.

He shifts in his seat, eyebrows furrowing together as he smirks your way, a devilish grin spreading across his crooked smile. “That good, huh?” he asks with hooded eyes.

You smile his way, taking your tongue along the smooth edge as you slowly lick at the cherry flavored sucker. “Sooo good,” you hum as you take it further into your mouth, as far as you can without choking yourself.

His jaw clenches, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he drives along, fighting himself from running off the road. “Better stop that now,” he warns, his eyes flickering with dark flecks of temptation as he gazes at you again with little control.

“Stop what?” you ask innocently, giving the sucker another lick as you stare directly into his smoldering eyes.

“Stop fuckin’ teasin’ me. You tryin’ to kill me?” he murmurs as you eye the hardening cock against his jeans. Oh yeah, you were going to have fun with this.

“Not trying to kill you, handsome. Just having some fun,” you tease.

He sighs, raking a hand slowly down his grey threaded scruff. “You’re trouble, sweetheart. A little tease is what you are.”

“Oh, I know,” you giggle.

You lean over and lick your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting the salt of sweat and a hint of mahogany cologne. You taste him.

“Christ,” Joel groans as he grips the steering wheel even harder. “You’re gonna make me pull this truck over if you’re not careful, I mean it,” he warns, his voice thick and gravelly against the pinch of temptation.

“You’re not gonna pull over. You’re gonna keep driving with your eyes on the road while I do this.” You palm him through his jeans, feeling just how hard he is as he groans through his gnashed teeth.

“Now, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on there.” He tries to pry your hand off, but you don’t move an inch.

“Joel, I’ve wanted to do this for years. Please, let me make you feel good. Rather suck on your cock than this lollipop.” You give another innocent lick to the pink sucker and bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him the prettiest smile you can muster up.

He ticks his jaw, eyebrows molding together while he drags a huff out. “Alright, alright. Jus’ don’t go wild. I need to concentrate on the road.”

“Noted,” you wink, watching him grit his teeth together as he watches you slowly unzip his denim jeans, pulling his boxers down while his hard cock springs up and hits his soft tummy.

You revel at how thick and long he is, wrapping a hand around him to slowly slide up and down his shaft, spreading the leaking precum over his entirety. He groans at your slow motions, eyes blowing out as he watches you sink down to his lap while your mouth closes over him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans as you bob your head up and down his shaft, hovering down to where his tip is kissing the back of your throat, making you choke and drool all over his weeping cock. He shifts beneath you, hands cemented to the steering wheel as he fights to keep his eyes on the road instead of at your pretty mouth around his thick length.

You gather your spit and fist him in your hand, moaning while you hear the wet, sticky noises of your fingers working him nice and good up and down repeatedly. You feel your own slick gathering in your panties, an ache you’re desperate to alleviate. You slide your left hand under the lace, circling your throbbing clit while you moan his name, still working him up and down with your hand.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he growls, watching you get yourself off with your own fingers. “If I wasn’t in the middle of the highway, I’d pull this truck over and have you spread across my lap while I finished the job.”

“Yeah?” you whine, fingers curling up inside yourself while your thumb presses down on your pulsing bundle of nerves.

“Oh yeah, sweetheart. Better believe I’m takin’ care of you later. You brought what I asked, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself about to spill inside your denim shorts.

“Attagirl. Gonna get you all nice and wet with my fingers, my tongue. Gonna tie you to the bedpost and give you what you deserve. Gonna make my girl come so hard that we’ll need new sheets before the night is through,” he growls with gritted teeth.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling a white hot sensation flow through your body before your panties are ruined with your release, continuing to stroke him while you come down from the blissful high of an orgasm.

“That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he praises. You’re absolutely drenched from his dirty words.

You take a minute to come back to the present while your eyes glaze over, feeling his pulsing cock beneath your fingers while you work him up and down slowly. You lean over and glide the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock where a large vein guides you forward. He groans, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel while you work your magic.

Suddenly, Joel stills beneath you, hearing his phone buzz deep in his pocket. He curses under his breath and reaches one hand in, grabbing up his vibrating phone as his eyes blow wide.

“It’s your father,” he mutters, knitting his eyebrows together as he answers the phone. “Hey, George. What’s up?” he says casually, motioning for you to stop while he talks on the phone.

You still your hand, keeping it wrapped firmly around the base, brushing the end of your nose through his coarse, wiry hairs, breathing him deep as you get intoxicated off his manly musk.

“Beers at your house tonight? Sorry, bud. I’m actually out of town this weekend.”

You hear your dad on the other end sighing, can almost see him rolling his eyes. You know he misses his best friend, but right now he’s a bit tied up with you.

“M’sorry. It was a bit last minute, but I’m goin’ to the lake with Sarah.”

You listen to Joel and your dad carry on the conversation, one hand on the steering wheel tight while he balances the phone on his shoulder. You know he’s trying not to break while he’s on the phone, but you just can’t help yourself.

You lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, flicking your tongue in slow circles around his swollen red tip as he hisses through his teeth. He glares at you, but you just smile sweetly up at him as you dive back in.

You take him deep in your mouth, feeling the salty precum slide down your throat as you choke on him again and again. He grabs the back of your hair, letting you work him over, swallowing your own moans with his thick length.

You take him deeper, choking on him while you make the most obscene gagging noises around his cock. “Ahh fuck,” he growls through his teeth as he looks down with blown out black eyes. “Oh, sorry. Jus’ lifted somethin’ a little too heavy for me. Guess I couldn’t quite handle it,” he mutters while his fingers grab your hair harder.

He pushes you down further, rutting his hips up while you choke again and again on his cock, letting him deepthroat you as your drool and spit coat him in wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right. Mhm, feels fuckin’ great at the lake. Not too cold, not too hot, jus’ right,” he grits through his teeth, fisting your locks in his hand as he drags your mouth up and down him, mouth fucking him intensely. You’re nearly drowning in him.

“Mhm. Tuesday. I’m gonna come. On Tuesday, right,” he pants out, teeth gritted together as he pushes your head down hard and blows his load inside your hollowed out cheeks.

You swallow him down, barely able to take all the hot ropes of cum as some leaks out of your mouth. He curses under his breath and hits the back of his head on the headrest, broad chest heaving while you clean him up and lap up all the excess cum and drool on his messy cock. When you’re done cleaning him and his cock is softening, you fold it back into his boxers and pull his jeans back up, zipping them up for Joel.

He takes deep breaths, listening to the last few words your dad tells him on the phone. He seems uninterested in whatever your dad has to say, his eyes only watching you now. They’re glazed over, dark flecks shining in the sunlight as he looks at you with love in his eyes. It makes your heartbeat pick up and kick against your chest.

“Alright, George. Sounds good. Have a good weekend. See ya Tuesday.” He clicks the phone off and shoves it in his pocket while his hand trails back over to you. His eyes find yours, and they look so beautiful in the rays of sunshine that glow through the window.

“You messy, messy girl. Goin’ down on me when I’m tryin’ to drive, when I’m on the phone with your father. You’re such a mess, baby,” he chuckles as he settles a large palm on the top of your head, gently running his fingers softly through your long locks.

“Mhm. I’ve always wanted to do that for you. And now I can say I have,” you giggle.

“Christ. How’d I get so lucky with you, hmm?” he smiles, watching you turn on your side and laying your head in his lap while one of your arms wraps around his thigh.

“The question is how’d I get so lucky with you? I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you all to myself. Almost doesn’t seem real, you know?”

You hear him hum while his thick fingers curl against your shoulder. “I know what ya mean, sweetheart. It’s real, though. You’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you go. You’re stuck with me, pretty girl.”

“Fine with me, cowboy,” you smile.

He chuckles out, the weight of his laughter echoing through your heart. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“And I love you, Joel Miller.”

He smiles down at you as you situate yourself in his lap, closing your eyes to take a nap. Maybe when you wake up you’ll see the surf and sand of Galveston before your eyes.

After you check into the lavish hotel and place your bags in your suite, you and Joel both throw on your swimsuits and grab some beach towels. You settle into a dark teal bikini, and Joel almost matches you with light blue swim trunks. He looks so good, so broad with his tanned chest almost glistening in the sun, his large muscles flexing every time he moves. He looks like a masterpiece.

Just when you almost get lost in your fantasies in your mind, Joel pulls you right back out. “I’ll race ya to the beach,” he smirks as he pulls open the back sliding door that leads to a winding staircase down to the beach.

“Bet I can beat you,” you giggle as you push him in the shoulder and race past him, barreling down the sturdy steps as you hear him laughing uncontrollably behind you.

“Cheater,” he laughs with a gravelly tone, “pushed right past me.”

You turn your face his way and stick your tongue out playfully. “Come catch me, slow poke,” you giggle. That just makes him sprint faster toward you.

You take off in the warm sand, your heart beating wildly inside your chest as you run toward the blue crashing waves of the ocean. You turn your head back around quickly and scream when you see him right on your heels.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he chuckles. One more step and he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder while you squeak and try to escape.

“Joel, put me down!” you laugh, using every bit of strength in you to break free of his hold, but it’s no use. He’s got you in a tight embrace.

“Ain’t puttin’ you down jus’ yet, baby. Nah, gonna jus’ take ya for a little dip in the water.”

“Joel Miller, put me down this instant!” you squeak as he squeezes the backs of your thighs, taking off into the thick sand.

“Nah, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna do that.”

You hear the crash of waves before you see them, and then he’s throwing you into the salty water while your head gets completely covered in the cold water. You make your way quickly up to the surface and rub the salt out of your eyes, yelling at Joel playfully while he laughs in the near distance.

Once you see him you start splashing him in the face with the cold water, watching his hair get completely soaked with his tousled curls slicked back with big droplets of salt water framing his face. “Now who’s winning!” you shout gleefully.

“Oh, so you wanna be like that? Okay, baby. Two can play at that game.” He starts splashing you right back while you turn your head and avoid the salt water getting in your eyes.

It’s a water fight in the best possible way, you and Joel going back and forth seeing who can make the biggest splash and who can get the most soaked. A fit of giggles leave your mouths while the sunshine warms your dripping shoulders. It goes on for minutes, the playful water fight until Joel comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist.

“C’mere,” he chuckles. He spins you around and pins you to his chest while his lips find yours hungrily. You melt into the kiss, fingers twisting through his dripping curls, him slotting his tongue into your mouth as you taste the salty flavor of the ocean and him.

You squeak when he picks you up, legs wrapping around his hips as one of his hands locks you to him. You rest your forehead on his, your lips curved into a warm smile as you take in the salt water that covers his tanned skin. “Thanks for taking me here, Joel,” you whisper against his mouth.

“Anytime, darlin’. Anytime.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and let him hold you up in the water, keeping your body flush to his chest. You both turn your attention to the horizon, watching the gentle blue waves lap against the water, focusing on the afternoon glow of the sun, the graceful seagulls flying overhead, your own beating heart mixing with Joel’s.

It’s moments like this that you can never take for granted. Being at the beach with your lover, not having to sneak around under the nose of your reluctant father, being at one of your favorite places in Texas. It’s all surreal, almost fictional. You’re one hell of a lucky girl, and you know that. God, you know that.

You rest your head on Joel’s shoulder and feel him kiss the top of your head slowly, his lips grazing against your drenched hair. “This is so peaceful, Joel,” you breathe, sighing into the scruff of his jaw.

“Mhm, it sure is. Haven’t been down here in a while. You know Sarah was jealous, right?”

You giggle and look up at him, catching the sunlight strike his dazzling honey colored eyes. “You told her you were coming here?”

“Yeah. Guess it was a mistake ‘cause she threw a fit, but she got over it. Told her I wanted a little alone time with my girl.”

You smile and nod in understanding. “Glad she took it well.”

“Me too. She kept askin’ when we were gonna tell your folks about us,” he sighs, one hand raking down the curve of his jaw, thick fingers catching water droplets from his greying beard.

You huff and sink back into his chest. “I don’t even want to think about that. I mean eventually we’ll have to, but not today. Not this month, or year. Maybe next year,” you sigh while your nails scratch against the back of his tousled curls.

“Whenever you want, baby. M’not in a rush either. Whenever you feel like the right time is, we’ll tell ‘em together. I’ll be right there by your side, no matter what happens. M’not goin’ anywhere, even if your father hates me after. I’m yours. Always.” He brushes his lips over your cheekbone, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower regions. The man always knew how to get you.

You stay in the cool, salty water just a little longer, going back and forth from floating on your back to being in Joel’s arms. No one else is in the water or on the beach, it’s just you and Joel. Your own island paradise for the weekend.

You bathe in the beauty of it all. The salty air breezing across your hair, sun kissed skin soaking in every bit of ray of sunshine the sky graces you, Joel standing behind you with his lips brushing against your collarbone, his deep hums sending sparks of lightning through your core. You never want to leave this place, never want to leave him. You’ll just stay in the moment for as long as you can.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He hums as he kisses your neck sweetly, his other hand dancing along the bikini line as his thick fingers play with the teal material by your hip bone.

“Promise me this isn’t just a dream and that I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow with you gone.”

He chuckles behind you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers in his deep, gruff voice you so love. “S’not a dream, baby. It’s real, I’m real. And I can promise you I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You sink your weight into his broad chest, his finger cupping your chin with his calloused fingers. He tips your head backwards and meets your lips with his, letting him soak you in all his sunshine and salty presence while you float off on a cloud into paradise. This is heaven, Joel is heaven. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

After half an hour of basking in the beautiful ocean, you decide to get out and lay in the sand for a while. You drag your feet through the damp sand, body relaxed and tired from the ocean water. You spot your towels laid out together, yours pink and Joel’s dark blue. But before you can reach them you feel Joel catch your hips while he envelops you in his warm hold, dragging you down to the sand as his weight topples over you. He pins your wrists to the warm sand while he holds himself over you.

“Got you,” he chuckles, hovering over you with his tousled curls dripping salt water all over your chest.

“Joel!” you laugh as you erupt into a fit of giggles. “Didn’t realize we were still playing.”

“Mmm, found the perfect opportunity to take you down again. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles.

“Silly old man,” you tease.

“Old man, huh? Ain’t old enough to do this,” he laughs, sinking his body against yours while his lips crash into you.

You melt into his lips, your fingers running through his tousled curls that smell of salty water and mahogany, the two mixing together to form a scent you breathe into your lungs and get lost in. His tongue dances with yours, his rough hands gliding against the curve of your hips as he slithers his way between your legs.

You stay like that for minutes just breathing each other in, getting lost in the hungry kisses, the panting breaths that sound in tune with the lapping waves against the shoreline. It all feels like a dream, but this is real, and it’s the most perfect day with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

He nips at your bottom lip, slowly releasing his mouth as he hovers back over you. When you open your eyes, you gasp. The way the warm sun beams down over him makes him look angelic, a bright light surrounding him as you look into those beautiful honey eyes, the dark flecks reflecting off your own. God, he looks so beautiful, so exquisite. You could stare at him every second of every day if you got the chance to.

Your fingers brush over his grey threaded beard, lips parting in awe as you smile up at him. His lips curve into a warm smile that makes your toes curl, and his eyes crinkle down at you while one of his hands grazes against your jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. You know that?” he asks, affection spilling off his Southern drawl while he traces your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb.

“You tell me all the time, handsome,” you smile, eliciting a groan from his mouth as you drag your fingers against the scruff of the back of his neck.

“You deserve to be told every single second of every day, sweetheart. And I’ll do that, over and over again. Even if you get tired of it, I’ll keep at it. ‘Cause you deserve the world, so let me give it to you.”

Your mouth drops open, your heart in your throat. You’re so stunned that you can barely say anything but run your fingers through his hair, a wide smile splayed over your face as you gaze into the eyes of the love of your life.

“Joel Miller, never knew you were such a romantic at heart,” you smile, lazing into those crystal clear dark eyes.

“Always been a romantic, baby. Guess I jus’ didn’t have anyone to show it to. But now, there’s you. So let me shower you in it. Got many years to make up for it,” he chuckles.

You drag his face down to yours, pressing your lips flush against his until you sink back into him, reveling in his touch, his kiss, his everything while the sun slowly slips against your ocean kissed skin. You swallow his essence, inviting him in while his tongue swirls feverishly around yours. It’s like you’re in the middle of a cute little romance movie, but this is your reality. This is real.

He drags one of your bikini straps down, slipping his fingers underneath the silky teal top, grazing against the underside of your breast. “Joel, stop,” you groan. “This isn’t a nude beach,” you laugh.

“There ain’t nobody around, darlin’. Jus’ let me do one thing, yeah?” he asks while you silently nod your head in approval.

He drags one of your cups free, burying his face in your chest as he takes the flat of his tongue and gently swirls around your pebbled breast. You groan into the shell of his ear while his other hand lightly feathers against the folds of your already soaked center.

“Joel,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his salt covered neck as he nips up your collarbone. He slips a hand beneath your bikini bottoms and starts to slowly circle your puffy clit, eliciting a moan that falls like a melody against the curve of his ear.

“Yeah? That feel good, darlin’?” he asks, feeling just how drenched you are beneath your bikini. He presses harder against your aching bud, pulling you dangerously close to spilling over him as you feel a cold wave hit the backs of your feet.

“Joel, fuck - you’re gonna make me…”

“Make you come? Go on, gorgeous. Spill for me. Know you want to,” he purrs, his calloused fingers swirling swiftly around your bundle of nerves until you dig your fingers into the scruff of his neck and moan his name intensely while he elicits a long, amazing orgasm from you. Your body jolts at the aftershocks, coming down from your high as cum spills all over your teal bikini.

“Attagirl,” he praises, working you through your orgasm, then slipping his fingers inside his mouth to clean them off properly. He groans at the taste of you, savoring the flavor against his tongue.

He leans back and looks at you, glistening tanned skin and chocolate coated eyes you want to melt in. He’s absolutely stunning. “Joel Miller getting me off on the beach?” you smirk as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Mhm, couldn’t wait to get back to the room. Had to get a taste and repay you for the favor you did for me in the truck.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh and roll him over into the sand. You climb on top of his chest and drape your arms over his broad shoulders while he brings his large hands up to rub your back softly.

“You’re the best, Miller. Best I ever had,” you smile as you rest your chin on his tanned chest.

“Mmm, think you’re the best, sweetheart. Never met a girl that got me quite like you do. You’re somethin’ else.”

He takes one of his fingertips and traces a heart in the sand, writing out your initials and drawing an arrow through the heart with a lovesick look in those pools of honey. You gawk at him, almost tearing up when you see how mesmerized he looks hovering over your initial, like it’s the most important thing in the world to him.

“There. Now it’s our beach. Jus’ yours and mine, baby. It’s written in the sand,” he lulls warmly.

You smile down at him, placing your hand against the soft scruff of his jaw and turn his face toward yours. You part your lips, almost speechless as words start to fail you. Joel really was a romantic after all. Your perfect, romantic, endearing boyfriend.

“Joel Miller. You amaze me every single day. And God, I’m just so in love with you,” you muse.

“Sweetheart, it’s me that’s so in love with you. Never gonna stop. It’s written in the sand, in the ocean, in the stars even. You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he whispers, staring up at you with the most endearing brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Everything about this moment is magical.

You gaze into the warmth of his honey eyes and play with his tousled curls, running your fingers through the soft locks as you get lost in his gaze. You stay like that another hour, listening to the lapping waves of the ocean, soaking up the warm sun, getting hopelessly lost in his mahogany and salt water scent. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, just like he is with you.

After a while, Joel helps you up off the sand and leads you across the shoreline. He takes your hand in his and guides you through the lapping water, taking in the salty breeze of the sea and the picturesque vision of you and him walking along the coast. It’s so romantic, so very special, and it feels so right. His strong hand in yours, him smiling down at you with those beautiful brown eyes, and his smile that sends you over the edge every single time. It’s all just so breathtaking.

Maybe this was fate after all, maybe you were meant to be on this beach with Joel the whole time. It sure seems like it now. You realize why it never worked with anyone else. It’s because Joel Miller was always the one. You just didn’t know it then, but you do now. He’s the one for you. Your forever.

After you and Joel have showered and thrown on white silky robes, you sit on the balcony and watch the sunset paint the sky purple and amber colors. You lean into Joel on the reclining chair, letting his fingertips trace up and down your arms slowly while his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, watching the waves slowly lap against the sand while he murmurs in your ear.

“Mhm, gorgeous.” He grazes his lips against your cheek and whispers sweet words into your ear. “You wanna go back inside? Let me make love to my girl,” he whispers as he trails another kiss over your cheek.

You spin around and smile down at him. “Okay, handsome. What’d you have in mind?” you giggle.

He smirks up at you and chuckles. “You remember when we were watchin’ Scream on Halloween night, and I asked about the whole handcuff thing?”

You raise your eyebrows in question and nod. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, don’t exactly have the handcuffs, but that black silk ribbon I asked you to bring? Gonna use that to tie you to the headboard. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. That what you want?” he asks with a long Southern drawl, eyes darkening as he speaks to you in a deep voice.

You gulp and nod your head. “Okay, daredevil. Take me to bed then,” you whisper into the shell of his ear.

He wastes no time and hauls you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he makes his way through the sliding glass door, closing it with the heel of his foot. “On the bed for me, naked,” he instructs as you fully oblige.

The room is massive, marble countertops and fancy light fixtures filling the room. The room is dim, only a couple of lamps on as the luminescent dark blue walls cover the space. The king sized bed is pristine, white sheets with fluffy pillows covering the top of the bed. The headboard is made of light wood, and a small fireplace crackles underneath the 70 inch flat screen tv in the center of the room.

You slip off your robe, crawling onto the plush bed while Joel watches with wide eyes, grabbing a couple things from your pink suitcase that sits in the corner of the room. His eyes stay locked on yours, especially when you spread your legs wide and show him the sticky mess already building up over your warm core.

He licks his lips, dragging a hand slowly over his mouth while he feasts on your naked body. “Look at you, baby girl. Already so wet and ready for me. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ vision,” he purrs, leaning against the edge of the bed just mesmerized at the perfection that splays in front of him.

You smile, bedroom eyes slipping over his tanned form, and he knows exactly what that means. He crawls over you, pushing your legs further apart with his knees and catching your wrists above your head. “Stay still for me, sweetheart. Gonna tie you up now.”

You stay still, letting him collect your wrists above your head, gently tying the black silk ribbon against the headboard. You almost moan, feeling his thigh brush against your clit as he sits back to assess his work. “You okay? Not too tight?” he asks with concerned brown eyes.

“Feels perfect, Joel,” you smile, giving him a mischievous smirk while your foot hikes his robe up his tanned thigh. “Gonna take that off, Miller?”

He chuckles, untying the belt slowly and then ripping it off his body as it goes crashing to the floor. You gawk at him, watching his cock twitch before you, already hardening as he assesses your bare body before him.

“Look at my man. So handsome, tan, big, all mine,” you giggle.

“Mmm, all yours, gorgeous. Now breathe for me. Wanna try somethin’,” he murmurs with darkening eyes.

You see him spread your thighs more, trailing kisses up your inner thighs and brushing his nose through your folds, dragging it over your sensitive clit and ending in the soft curls above your mound.

He gives you a devilish grin and then licks a long, thick stripe up your core, sending a moan falling from your lips as he drinks in the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl,” he groans, licking the slick from his lips slowly. “Now, for the fun part. Think you’re gonna love this,” he smiles.

He reaches behind his back and grabs the vibrator that was sitting underneath your clothes in your suitcase. He turns the power on, starting it slow as the buzzing noise fills the width of the room. Before he brings it to your center, he hovers it just over your clit as he speaks. “Take a deep breath. Gonna start it slow.”

Your breath falters when he places the end of the vibrator on your clit, pressing down and massaging slow circles across your bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Joel,” you whine, letting him revel in your long, drawn out moans.

“Attagirl, feels good don’t it?” he chuckles, watching the way your lips part and eyes blow wide.

“Yeah, it feels - ohhhhh,” you moan, feeling him slip two digits into your dripping hole, working them nice and slow, curling up into the spongy wall that makes you lose control.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let’s take it up a notch, shall we?” he smirks.

He switches the settings, powering the vibrator to a more intense level that has your legs shaking uncontrollably. He shifts his knee, pinning your thigh down so he can see the spasming movements of your ruined pussy.

His eyes expand into black pits, tongue licking against his bottom lip while he assesses the damage he does to your soaked core. He watches the way the slick runs down his knuckles, fingers fucking deep into your drenched pussy, obscene squelching noises and melodic moans filling the room. He’s never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life.

He presses down harder on your throbbing clit, the buzzing motion of the vibrator making you squirm beneath his calloused fingers. “Joel, I’m so close. I’m so - oh,” you writhe, hearing the wet noises of him fucking your pussy with his thick fingers faster and faster, feeling him coaxing you on each time his fingertips kiss that perfect spongy spot that makes you black out.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises, pressing downward on the vibrator and opening a whole new sensation that makes you form your lips into a wide O, white hot heat sliding down the edge of your spine.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, fusing your eyebrows together and choking on a moan.

“Come for me, beautiful. Make a mess on these fingers,” he coaxes.

One more brush of the vibrator and curl of his thick fingers and you’re gone. You moan his name, twisting your fingers into the silky ribbon as you feel the rush of bliss blow over you. You release for him, spilling all over his fingers, along with another wave of pleasure that overcomes you. You feel yourself squirt, watch yourself coat his broad chest, the scruff of his jaw with the slick that just keeps flowing.

“Oh, Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby. There she goes. Jus’ keeps on comin’. Fuckin’ drenchin’ me,” he purrs all mesmerized and hypnotic while he talks you through it.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off while he collects slick against your glistening mound. He slides his fingers from your insides, popping his soaked digits into his mouth, groaning from the taste of you.

“Joel, that was incredible,” you pant, coming back to your body after the intense orgasm washes through you.

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart,” he teases, a crooked smile forming over his beautiful face.

“Not yet?” you ask, laughing.

“Not yet,” he confirms with a glint in his blown out eyes.

Your eyes look down, staring at the large erection between his legs. His cock is thick, the head red and swollen while precum leaks down his shaft. You go wide-eyed, licking your lips as you gaze hungrily at him.

“Joel,” you whine.

“What do ya need, baby girl? Use your words.”

You strain against your bindings, panting desperately, trying to show him how badly you need him between your thighs. “Your cock. Need you inside, please,” you beg.

“Don’t gotta beg for me, darlin’. It’s all yours, I’m all yours,” he smiles.

He brings your legs over his shoulders, crawling between your thighs as he stretches you wide, cock gliding against your folds, collecting slick on his angry tip. You groan at the feeling of him, the tingling sensation his cock gives as it slides against your wetness.

“You ready for me?” he asks, brushing over your clit once more as you stifle a moan.

“Mhm,” you hum.

“Okay, baby girl. Deep breath for me,” he instructs.

He pushes into you, stretching you wide as his thick cock fills you to the brim. You pant, writhing beneath him while he starts a slow rhythm of going back and forth, his grunts becoming savage like when he talks you through it.

“There ya go, sweetheart. Takin’ me so good, jus’ like you always do,” he grunts out, his large hands caging you against him.

You want so badly to be able to run your hands through his hair, want to scratch your nails down the tanned skin of his back, feel the sweat building on his sculpted skin. Being tied up is hot, and something about not being in control right at this moment is really turning you on, but you also want to just be able to really feel him.

He sees you struggling with your wrists, pulling against the black silk while you pant out his name through every brush of his cock against your tight walls. He stills his thrusts, giving you a concerned look as he takes you in. “You okay, sweetheart? Is it too tight? Too much?” he asks with a soft voice.

“I just… This is really hot, Joel. But I kind of just want my hands free so I can touch you,” you say with glossy eyes.

He chuckles, nodding his head in understanding. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart. Here, let me jus’ fix this real quick.” His arms go over your head, carefully untying your hands from the polished headboard. He throws the black silk ribbon on the nightstand and situates himself over you again, all while still being inside you. “Better?” he asks, a crooked smile draping over the curve of his mouth.

You throw your arms around his neck and let out a sigh of relief as your fingers scratch up the tousled curls on the back of his neck. “Better,” you smile.

“Now, let me get back to makin’ love to my girl,” he says with eyes that smother over with darkening irises.

He ruts back into you, speeding up his thrusts as his lips come down to meet yours. You part your lips and let him slot in, drowning out your moans with the slide of his tongue as he licks feverishly inside your mouth. You twist your fingers through his sandy colored curls, eliciting a grunt from his lips as your nail beds dig across his scalp.

He moves his lips down to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone, sucking against the sensitive areas all while his large palms cup your breasts, pebbling your nipples with every stroke of his calloused thumbs.

“Oh, right there,” you whine, feeling his cock reach that certain spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.

“Yeah, feel good?” he purrs along the shell of your ear, licking his tongue along the edge of it. “How ‘bout this?” he says with a devilish grin, eyes blowing wide with dark black pits.

“Fuck,” you moan, feeling his thumb draw meticulous circles across your swollen clit while his cock kisses the back of your cervix, spreading wet, obscene noises around the glow of the room as his balls slap frantically against your sweaty skin.

You dig your nails into the back of his shoulder blades as Joel folds you like a pancake and ruts deep inside you, his cock drenched in your sticky slick. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the hot heat slide down your spine. You’re so close to spilling.

“Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Want you to come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock. Attagirl,” he praises as he sees your eyebrows thread together, your body quivering beneath him.

He slides his thumb in slow circles over your buzzing clit, cock hitting your spongy wall again and again and again until you can’t hold back any longer. You squeeze his thick cock, moaning his name as white hot heat takes control of your body. You feel yourself start to spill, covering Joel in your blissful orgasm that coats him in your slick.

“Attagirl, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, talking you through your high as your body starts to come down from sweet release.

He pushes your legs further apart, cock working swiftly in and out of your core as he chases his own release. “Oh yeah, fuck me,” he growls, thrusting in and out faster and faster until he’s furrowing his eyebrows together and clenching his jaw, spilling hot ropes of cum inside you till he collapses at your side and pulls you flush to his chest.

You both pant out in exhaustion, sheets soaked from the sweat of skin on skin, bodies tangled together as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and smiles warmly over at you. “Did so good for me, baby. Always do so good,” he praises, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as you take in the starry flecks of amber brown of his dreamy eyes.

“Thanks for showing me something new. Never knew I could be so into bondage,” you tease, smirking his way with flirtatious eyes he can’t seems to look away from.

“Mmm, we’ll jus’ have to explore those kinks together then, yeah?”

You giggle while you run a hand through his messy curls, taking in this beautiful moment of you and Joel on a weekend getaway together. It feels so natural, so right being here with him. You guess it’s just always felt like this ever since starting this whole thing with him.

After a few minutes of just staring at one another mesmerized, Joel traces his thumb across your bottom lip and smiles gently at you. “You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you when I met you?” he asks quietly.

“What?” you laugh gently, placing your palm over the top of his hand.

“Your eyes. Never saw such beautiful eyes before. And your smile. God, that gorgeous smile. Thought I was seein’ an angel the first time you looked at me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, the outside waves being muted from the man that lies in front of you. “Joel… that’s so… wow,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Think I was in love before we even started dating, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest with myself, I should’ve known all along. You’re exactly the woman I’ve been lookin’ for. You’re so beautiful and smart and kind. I’m jus’ so… fuck, I jus’ love you a lot.”

Your mouth drops open, a gasp leaving your throat as you stare at him like a lovesick puppy. You’re almost too overwhelmed right now with tears licking the backs of your eyes. “Joel Miller, you sweet, sweet man. I never thought… I only dreamed that this could all be real. I never knew it’d turn into this. But I’m so crazy about you, and I love you so so much.”

His eyes tear up, brown syrupy flecks glistening back at you in the starry moonlight. He looks so happy and so in love that your heart swells like a balloon in your chest. “Thank you again for taking me to Galveston. You’re the best, Miller,” you smile, fingers entwining with his.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’d take you here anytime. Jus’ say the words, I’ll take you anywhere. As long as I get to be with my girl, that’s enough for me,” he smiles.

You pull him in for a long kiss, getting lost in the scent of the ocean breeze and the woodsy scent of his cologne. This may last forever, it may not, but you’re going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.

Tags: @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @vividispunk @mrslawrencealbarn @pedrossl4t @pedroswife69 @sarap-77 @casa-boiardi @princesatracionera @msjarvis

#joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #joel miller pedro pascal #daddy’s best friend mr. miller #joel miller fan fiction

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baby-yongbok · 10 months

Text

I'm Yours

Seo Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst then Smut mixed with angst. Dirty Drama.

Summary: Even when you think you're done with him Changbin knows just what to say to make you melt for him.

Warnings: Cheating , Arguing/Yelling, Fingering, Changbin is kinda - low key gaslighting her (might be highkey). I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 2,407

✨Masterlist✨

“Don’t.” You push past Changbin, grabbing your shirt from the floor and tugging it on quickly. You can’t even look at him, how could he do this?

“Would you just let me explain?” He runs his hands through his hair as he buttons his shirt behind you. “I was going to tell her I just-”

“You just what? You told me last week, no, you promised me that you’d tell her about us. What happened to that? What happened to the I love you, baby, I’m going to tell my wife everything. I already made the date, I already made the fucking plans. What happened, Changbin?” Your throat burned from your yelling and you could feel the pinch in the back of your eyes but you won’t cry. You can’t do that right now, he doesn’t deserve that.

“It’s not that fucking easy, It’s complicated, everything is complicated. What am I supposed to tell the kids? Mommy and daddy are getting a divorce cause I started fucking your nanny? I have a family ya know, this isn’t black and fucking white.” You scoff, an incredulous laugh slipping from your lips as you step closer to your lover. He stares back at you, wide eyed with a red angry blush climbing up the milky skin of his neck and chest. You want to laugh this off, you want to tell him that you understand and that you just want him, any of him, all of him. But he doesn’t deserve that either.

“Oh, do I know that you have a family? Do I know? Let’s see Mr. Seo, am I aware that you have a six year old daughter who loves tea parties and hot wheels? Hmm, do I know that?”

“Don’t do that.” He looks away, bringing his hand up and rubbing his face. It’s a habit that he does when he’s stressed, you can’t blame him, this is fucking stressful.

“What about your four year old son who loves coloring and watching Bluey, do I know about that?” You take a step closer to him, leaving little to no room between you two. The heat radiating off of the both of you creates a deliciously toxic energy that makes you sick to your stomach.

“Or what about your fucking wife.” You hiss, yelling in his face, he squeezes his eyes shut as he continues to avert eye contact. You push his chest with every word but he doesn’t move, of course he doesn’t he’s two times stronger than you.

“Your wife who doesn’t give a shit about her kids or her husband or anything else that doesn’t solely focus on her. Your wife that is never home so I take care of her kids and they call me mommy. Your wife that doesn’t give you any attention so you started fucking me. I know a whole lot about your fucked up little family.” He grabs your hand, turning to face you and you swear that the look in his eyes could kill you.

“Stop this, now.” His voice is barely above a whisper, it’s almost gentle which is the complete opposite of the grip that he has on your wrist as he holds it against his chest. “I didn’t think that we’d take it this far, this was never the plan. Falling in love with you was not what I planned.”

“So I was just supposed to be a quick fuck? You didn’t mean to fall in love with me or fuck me in you and your wife’s bed before I pick up your kids. You didn’t mean to buy me jewelry or spend nights here begging me to have your babies, begging me to marry you when you divorce her. Fuck you, get the fuck off of me.”

“Will you let me fucking explain?” He growls at you and you suck your teeth.

“The hell I am.” You attempt to pull away from him but his grip only tightens. You pull again, this time more aggressively and when he doesn’t let you go you start to fight him, pushing and pulling and making him stumble as he tries to hold you. He lets go of your wrists and moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, he picks you up and throws you onto your mattress, ignoring your protests as you hit the memory foam.

“You think that I don’t know that she doesn’t give a fuck about me?” His voice bounces off of the white walls of your bedroom as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “She never fucking has, she never fucking will, she’s a gold digger we all know that. I fucked up and got her pregnant, I didn’t want any of this shit. I didn’t want this life. You, you are the first thing that I’ve wanted in years.”

“Bullshit.” You sit up, scooting down to the end of your bed. “Bull - fucking - shit, Changbin.”

You stand from the mattress but Changbin pushes you back down by your shoulders, he kneels down in front of you, getting a good grip on the plush of your thighs and pulling you to the very edge of the bed. You’re ready to protest, ready to scream and fight and throw a fit but the next sentence that comes out of his mouth makes you freeze. “ I told them to call you mommy.”

He stares up at you, vulnerable eyes searching yours, you ball your hands into fists against the comforter. Is he fucking serious? “I didn’t tell my wife because she didn’t fucking show up for our date night. She had a work meeting which is code for fucking the new executive. I was going to tell her, I have -” He stops himself mid sentence, looking over towards his work bag and quickly moving towards it. He searches through it for less than a second before pulling out a folder and moving back in front of you.

“I have the fucking divorce papers, I signed them. I had everything.” You grab the folder from him, shaking your head as you read through them, they’re real, he isn’t lying but what good is that if you’re still stuck being the side chick? No good at all.

“Is this supposed to change my mind? Am I supposed to feel bad that your dead beat wife stood you up? I don’t give a fuck about her but clearly you still do.”

“That’s not fair -”

“Oh it’s not? It’s not fair?” You cross your arms, meeting his eyes with a sarcastic gaze. He speaks over you, shaking his head and gripping your bed frame as he grows more and more frustrated by the situation.

“That’s not fucking fair, she’s the mother of my kids of course I give a shit about her. Yeah she’s a bitch, yeah she doesn’t love me but -”

“But you love her?” Your sarcastic gaze morphs into one of anger, pure feminine rage and you’re ready to unleash it if he says the wrong thing. “Do you fucking love her, Changbin?”

“It’s not that simple.” You throw the folder that he handed you behind you, the papers confetti around the two of you, covering the mattress and floor next to you.

“Go home. Be with the woman you love, be with your kids, your family.” You lean forward, yelling in his face and leaving no room for air, you hate him you hate him so much for doing this to you. For turning you into the woman who loves a married man, even before you slept with him you knew that you loved him. It was the lingering stares and soft touches. It was the early morning conversations and the hot coffee waiting for you as soon as you walked through the door. It was the way that he’d take pictures of you and his kids like you were their mother, like you were a family. “The family that you fuck over every time you fuck me. Get out, leave.

“I'm in love with you.” He grabs your waist, squeezing and holding you like you’d fly away if he didn’t. The sound of your primal yelling is still ringing in his ears but he ignores it, nothing else matters, all that he wants is for you to hear him. All that he wants is for you to understand that his wife may have a place in his heart but you own it. You and his kids are all that he really loves, all that he really wants. “What do I need to do to get you to see that? What do you want from me?”

His hand trails down to the curve of your hip as his eyes stay on yours. “Do what you promised me you would.” You snap back, shifting in his grip.

“Give me until Friday, that’s all I ask.” His hands run over the bare skin of your thigh, scratching down the sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Give me this last chance, please. I won’t fuck this up, I need you.”

He leans in, pressing his torso between your legs and resting his hands on your knees as he gently parts them. You watch him, your chest rising and falling heavily. You’re angry, you’re livid, you’re in love. “I want you so bad, baby, just give me three days.” His fingers inch their way towards the tender flesh of your inner thigh and you sit there, watching him.

“You said this before, you said it last week. Why are you doing this to me?” Your anger has abandoned you, it left you to face this desperate sadness all by your lonesome. Your voice is weaker than you’d like and the familiar pinch of tears fighting to escape visits you again and you’re not sure that you have it in you to fight them this time. “You keep stringing me along, Changbin, you keep -”

“Bunny, I’m begging you, just three days.” His pointer and middle finger sneak over to caress your folds over the gusset of your damp underwear and you shiver at the sensation. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I’m doing this to you. We knew this would be messy.”

He hooks his fingers into the wet fabric, moving it to the side and pressing against your clit softly. You try to keep your eyelids from fluttering shut but it’s no use, they’re closed before you can even think to do otherwise. “This isn’t fair.” You gasp, as he rubs tight circles against the bud, dragging whine from you that you don’t believe he has the privilege to hear.

“You’re right.” His fingers move down, collecting your dripping slick and spreading it over your needy cunt. You open your mouth to snap back at him but his fingers are sinking into you before you can even get a breath out. “This isn’t fair, you’re right.”

His words are whispers as he watches you, he can feel himself relax as you arch your back into the air and squeeze your eyes shut because of him. For him. “Y-you take so much of me when you leave here.” You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your speech. Changbin’s fingers pick up speed as you speak.

“What do I take from you, baby?”

“Everything, you t-take so much of my power, my love, my pride.” A moan interrupts your sentence, and you let your head drop back as he curls his fingers inside of you. “There are so - so many parts of me scattered around your house. There are bits and pieces - pieces of you. So many pieces of you in this room. My pillows smell like you, your coffee mug, your toothbrush, I have it all but - but there’s no you.” You close your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek.

"I want to take it all back," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. His thumb finds your clit as you lift your head to look at him and you can’t help but to cry out as you buck your hips into his hand.

“You don’t mean that.” He whispers back as his spare hand reaches up to wipe the stray tear rolling down your cheek. “ Tell me that, tell me that you don’t mean that.”

You grind your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers hungrily, desperately. “Look at me.” His voice snaps you out of your fucked out hunger and you meet his gaze, more tears falling from your eyes and he moves his hand beside you to pick up one of the papers you threw. He lifts it to your tear stained cheek and wipes it dry with the paper, his fingers slow down as his eyes scan your face. He loves you, he really is in love with you. If you two had met in a different life or maybe just at an earlier time then you’d be the mother of his kids and he wouldn’t be the CEO of a company he doesn’t give a fuck about, he wouldn’t have to keep his happiness a secret. Why couldn’t that have been the way that things went?

“I don’t regret any of this. I don’t regret you.” His fingers speed up again and you cry out, your trembling frame is beautiful to him. “You don’t regret me.”

“I don’t.” You moan, your hands tangle in your hair as you pant and whine. “I wish I did.”

“You have so much of me too, you own me. I’m yours. Fuck her, I need you. Anything that you want is yours.” You feel the knot tightening in your stomach and your eyes roll back at the feeling.

“Say it again, s-say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, baby.” Changbin’s eyes rake over your body as you near your high, your rosy skin is beautiful in the dimly lit room. “I’m yours.”

“Bin, oh my fucking god.” Your legs shake against the bed frame as your orgasm climbs up your spine. He groans, as he cups your cheek and guides your lips to his. He kisses you hungrily, passionately. Desperately. Before you can warn him you break the kiss, your body is falling into his as your legs clamp down around his wrist and he curls his fingers inside of you as you come down from your high. You’re panting against his shoulder as he peppers light kisses against your neck.

“I’m yours, I promise.”

(Unedited)

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lassieposting · 11 months

Text

Concept:

Post-tadpole, Tav offers to help Astarion find a way to walk in the sun again, and she starts by going to different libraries and repositories and archives around the city to look for books that might be relevant. Astarion, obviously, has to stay in the rental room with the shutters closed during the daytime, so he can't come with her.

At some point, this takes her up to the posh part of the city, where the fancy ✨ scholarly ✨ archive is. She remembers most of the walk - it's not too far from the graveyard Astarion took her to, in the neighbourhood where he once used to live.

And like, it's never actually occurred to her that he could still have Actual Blood Relatives still living? It's not a topic she's ever thought to raise with him. But she has to sign in and out of the archive, and she just happens to notice the name three or four lines above hers: an initial and a surname she recognises.

Ancunín.

The same name from Astarion's gravestone.

A parent? A sibling?

A niece or nephew Astarion has never even met?

Thus begins a secondary quest of trying to reunite a broken family. Astarion is willing enough to talk about the few memories he still has of the thirty-nine years he had with his family before turning - a drop in the ocean compared to the 200 years spent suffering under Cazador - but he shuts down when she nudges him towards the likelihood that Mr & Mrs Ancunín are still alive. He retreats back behind the selfish, catty survivalist he was when she first met him and claims he has no interest in ever reconnecting. The pain in every clipped syllable says drop it, so she does.

But then he asks her, very quietly, several days later, what the initial was. He doesn't really react when she tells him - there's no obvious recognition, and he doesn't ask any follow-up questions or try to discuss it further. He just goes back to his book. She watches him out of the corner of her eye though, as she skim-reads her own giant tome of magical artifacts. A very long time goes by before she sees him turn a page.

For a good long while, the family issue gets put firmly on the back burner. They have other shit going on. Sometimes, it's following promising leads on a possible workaround for Astarion's sunlight allergy. Other times, it's the kind of ugly, ragged-edged breakdown that so often follows a period of relative safety and stability after a major trauma. He's been running in survival mode for two centuries, and now he's finally starting to feel secure enough for the rest of his mind to come back online, and all the trauma he couldn't handle at the time, all the pain and fear and tangled emotions survival mode was protecting him from, is catching up to him. During those sporadic episodes, trying to keep him from falling apart is her top priority and, well, time gets away from them and by the time he brings up his parents again, months or more have gone by, and they have a fairly good idea of what artifact of daywalking they need to find.

By the time it comes to actually meeting with them, still more months have passed, and they have already found it.

It's horrible, and heartwarming, and heartbreaking, and healing, and hurting, and so many other conflicting things that for a while - a long while - Tav doesn't know whether she actually did the right thing encouraging him to reach out to long-lost loved ones. It's a mess of moments that makes her heart ache for a dozen reasons. She finds out that Astarion looks most like his mother, but has his father's nose. She holds him for hours while he shakes and sobs into her shoulder because they never even left the city, they were here the whole time, and they never found him - and he's so angry and full of grief he doesn't know what to do with himself. She accompanies him to the home he was raised in, and the once-familiar surroundings jog memories he thought lost for good - he's glassy-eyed, recounting them to her, but she's fairly sure it's the good kind of glassy-eyed, so she doesn't mention it. She tries to make conversation at family dinner while he stares at his hands in his lap, dissociated, looking even more uncomfortable than she feels, utterly lost in a world that once fit him like a glove. There are a lot of feelings to try and mediate. They are all hurt, all damaged, all afraid, all looking for the ghost of a loved one in the face of a stranger.

But, eventually, there is a day where she overhears Astarion having a conversation with his father, and he sounds like himself - not the persona he puts on in public - and his father laughs at something he says in a way that's entertained rather than awkward. There is a day where his mother reaches out and he doesn't shake his head or step away - he lets her hug him goodbye. They have not slipped back into the graves they crawled out of in each other's lives - they are all very different people now - but they are learning new ways to fit together, and he seems to be pleased about it.

So she thinks, yeah, it was worth it.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion x tav #tavstarion #tav #so i saw a post mentioning that astarion's family could still be alive bc elves #and now i have Feelings #so!!!!! yells screams flings this into the void #also pry astarion having to start processing what hes been through once he's safe from my cold dead hands #also his poor folks lmao #his mother telling him that someone desecrated his grave not long after he died by digging it up #and then again recently by defacing it #and hes just 'actually both of those were me'#astarion ancunin

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thatlesbianbarbie · 10 months

Text

Y/n My two favorite girls

Lessia Ahh babe

McCabe Russo your Mrs always trying to flatter me

Y/n I can still take it back

Y/n My girl with the baby blues

Lessia you only love me because of these baby blues

Y/n We both know I love you because of your adorable face your eyes are just a large part of your face.

Y/n I have no idea how those shoes are still white.

McCabe I think she spends more timing cleaning her shoes then walking in them

Lessia not true

Tooney we all know it’s true don’t even try to hide it

Y/n My star girl forever and always ❤️

Tooney when do I get to be someone’s star girl

Lessia idk but it feels good to be a star girl ✨

Y/n she looks like an angry ostrich

Lessia I do not

Lessia Pls take this post down

Lessia Babe

Lessia Please

Y/n Never this will stay up until the end of time.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso couples #woso one shot #woso

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year

Text

Arguments ✨

Summary; It's Friday and you have the worst headache in the world, To make your day even worse you and Eddie get into an argument, and Eddie snaps telling you to leave Hellfire.

When the headache overwhelms you and Eddie finds out he is anxious to see you.

Warnings; Angst, fluff. Kinda mean Eddie? Jealous Eddie, minors dni

I don't give anyone permission to copy my work.

❤️✨

❤️✨🌸

You were having the worst day, on top of a bad headache, you had had an argument with Eddie.

When you were sick, you could get irritated or emotional quite easily, Eddie had made some remark about one of Jason's friends Matt who kept staring at you.

"Why does that asshole keep staring at you? It's fucking weird" Your head snaps up and you frown. There was already tension between the two of you because you tried out for the cheer squad and made it.

"Didn't realize it was so weird that someone finds me attractive" you reply wounded.

He pauses and shakes his head.

"I didn't mean it like that sweetheart?" he assures you and you raise an eyebrow.

"Well, how did you mean it? It's weird that someone may find me cute?" he shakes his head.

"You're putting words in my mouth. I just mean that it's those assholes, they are doing it to piss off Hellfire, jocks, cheerleaders, they join up to the dark side and they are all the same"

This wounds you, does he think you're like that?

"No not all of us. Some of the jocks are nice, and Chrissy is a sweetheart. Do you think I'm like that?" he looks frustrated now.

"Is there much point in me saying anything else sweetheart because you'll literally just take everything I say the wrong way"

Gareth jumps into the conversation and you massage your head which is so sore that it nearly brings tears to your eyes.

"Calm down you two, things are getting heated here and they don't need to be" Eddie angrily folds his arms across his chest and glares at Gareth.

"I'm not the one who started it" you huff and get up having enough of Eddie.

"Fine blame me, when you're the one who made stupid remarks" you fume at him and Dustin looks worried.

"Where are you going? We're discussing tonights campaign" your mood softens as you look at Dustin, he was a sweet kid.

"Sorry Dustybun, think I'll skip tonight" It's not like you'd feel welcome anyway. Eddie scowls.

"You miss tonight and you're out" There are angry protests to Eddie's ultimatum and your stomach drops at his cold gaze.

"Fine" you snap and storm away. You don't cry until you're well away from the cafeteria.

💕

Gym. Just to make things worse for your head you now need to compete in dodgeball.

Usually you enjoyed the game but after your argument with Eddie you just wanted to curl up at home in bed and ignore the world for a little while.

But you couldn't, you had cheer practice, no Hellfire though so you could go home straight after but it wouldn't stop you from missing everyone.

Eddie must have skipped gym because you don't see him anywhere, you try to focus on the game and not the argument the two of you had.

It's made even harder by how dizzy you feel as you're running around and it's almost a relief when two balls hit you so you're out of the game.

Except one hits you on you're already sore head and the pain is so intense, you cry out and the dizziness overwhelms you and you faint.

💕💕

"Back off everyone, give her some air" you wake up to a few classmates staring down on you.

Chrissy is beside you looking as worried as your gym teacher Mr Bennett.

Nurse Watts comes in and checks you over when you tell her about your raging headache and dizziness.

"Sounds a lot like a headcold honey, you need to go straight home and rest"

"I have cheer practice I can't go home" you say anxiously to the nurse and Chrissy squeezes your hand.

"As your cheer captain, I order you to go home and rest up" This relaxes you a little bit and a few of your classmates help you up including a worried Jeff.

"I'll be fine, can you drive me home, please Jeff? Eddie usually does after Hellfire but...

Well, with the two of you not talking that wouldn't be happening, nods and motions you to follow him to his car as he takes you home.

He hangs around for a little bit and it's a relief to have someone with you. However, Hellfire is soon close to starting so you tell him to go.

Once Jeff leaves after making sure you are okay you get a big glass of water, some pain meds then change into your comfiest clothes and cuddle up in bed.

💕💕

Jeff races into the drama room ten minutes after Hellfire starts and Eddie is already grumpy after his argument with you.

"Now after that interruption let us finally begin the campaign kay?" he announces and the others nod excited but occasionally glancing at your empty seat.

It feels strange without you here, Eddie feels it too and the ache in his chest since the fight the two of you had.

Jeff is trying to think of a way to mention what happened at gym but decides to say it after the session ends.

It's Mike who ends up saying about it as they are finishing up.

"Did you hear that yn fainted in gym class today?" Eddie's head snaps up and his stomach drops, he was doing a deal during class then setting up Hellfire with some of the guys.

Why didn't he hear about this sooner? Jeff speaks up.

"I was trying to tell you that dude, the ball hit her on the head and she fainted. Said she's been feeling shitty all day" Jeff trials off at Eddie's livid.

All that Eddie can think about now is getting to you, making sure you're alright.

Fuck, the argument. You meant more to Eddie than some disagreement. More than anyone else knew.

He let you see sides of him no one else had, sides he kept hidden away.

"Shit, I have to see her. Sheeples do me a favour and clean up yeah?" he races out as quickly as he can and into his van, anxious to see you.

💕💕

A light tapping on your window wakes you up around nine-ish, you've slept for hours but still feel sore.

Eddie is at your window and you get up gingerly, wincing at your achy muscles.

"What are you doing here?" you ask not wanting a repeat of earlier.

"I heard what happened. Wanted to see if you were okay, to apologise"your eyes widen.

"You did?" he nods and helps you back into bed.

"Look, I'm not apologising for hating the jocks, maybe some of the cheerleaders as they can be just as bad. I'll never apologise for despising Jason and his goons but not all of the dark side is bad. You aren't"

"You mean a lot to me you know that princess, I've opened up to you in ways I haven't opened up to anyone. You mean so fucking much to me and it's not weird Matt was staring at you because you're amazing and beautiful. I was jealous"

Knowing how difficult this is for him, letting his emotions out like this softens you.

"So you don't want me out of Hellfire then?" he shakes his head.

"No, I don't. You're the one person in this shitty town who I never want to lose" your hands entwine with his.

"I'm not going anywhere, Eddie" he smiles, all dimples.

"I think the cheerleading thing is pretty cool you know? Might have to attend a game to see you in action" This makes you giggle as he mimics the cheerleading.

"Unless you would prefer that Matt douche cheering for you" he fake smiles and you sigh, god he really doesn't see it does he.

"Edward Munson, I don't want Matt at all" he tentaively strokes your cheek.

"You're my girl sweetheart, I can't stand the thought of you with that dickhead or anyone"

"Ditto", it's pretty much how you feel for Eddie. He moves closer to you, his eyes yearning, a vulnerability there as he lets his walls down.

"Kiss me" you urge gently and he doesn't need to be told twice as his lips meet yours.

You were his girl, his heart. You had been for a while and you always would be.

💕

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #mean eddie

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moonchild-in-blue · 4 months

Text

Do you ever think how Sleep Token are literally the physical embodiment of their instruments? Hear me out:

Vessel is voice & piano -> beautiful ; stable ; Main Character™ ; extremely versatile ; goes from ✨ soft and delicate ✨ to ANGRY!! AND BIG!!! in seconds ; she's an icon for a reason 💅 ; basically That Bitch ; emotional emo boy 🥺 ; scales!!! runs !!! ⬆️↗️↙️↖️↘️➡️⬇️↖️ intonation so perfect it's actually infuriating ; SKILLS - a showoff really (affectionate) (all singers have a bit of diva in them) ; the RANGE is IMMACULATE 📈📉

ii is drums -> Responsible and Reliable ; but also so so fun ; backbone of the group ; eepie complex flourishes and LOUD SOUNDS 💥 WOOO ‼️ PSSHHH PSSSHH 🔥 BOOOM ❤️‍🔥 TRRRRRAAAAA 💥 ; don't mess with him ; brain working at 200% full capacity ; COMPACT AND FAST OOOOHHH lookathimgooo ; circle (cus drums and cymbals and eyes 🟤🟡🔵)

iii is bass -> grooveehh~ 🤪🤙 ; fun !!! ; FUNKY 🕺 ; HUGE ENORMOUS OMG ; scary - terrifying even when he wants to ; liquid (this makes sense in my head) ; actually so crucial - there's no party without her 🪩 ; the Smooth to guitar's Sexy 🥵

ivy is guitar -> COOL GUY 😎 ; pretty boy 🥹 ; Mr Steal-Yo-Girl 😏 ; weird symbiotic relationship with Bass (👀) ; she's famous for a reason ; will serenade you AND break your heart at the same time but it's okay because HOT ; Extra sexy points for harsh vocals ; the Sexy to bass's Smooth 🥵

Espera are voice (specifically backing vocals) -> literal angels who walk among mortals 🥺 ; will elevate any situation to a higher plane ; like Ves, they also have that Main Character Energy™ all singers have ; ethereal and otherworldly 💖 ; mesmerising really like wow ; That Bitch 2.0 💅✨

Thanks you for coming to my Ted Talk :::D

#if this doesn't make sense pls know i'm typing in at [ungodly hour of the night] so i don't forget #this came to me in a vision (it was Sleep) (i don't pretend to know the designs of an eldritch deity) (i merely convey the message)#i'm scheduling this actually. you're not going to draft territory #sleep token

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winchesterwild78 · 2 months

Text

Behind the Scenes pt 7

Master List

Minors DNI 18+

Warnings: fluff, body insecurities, oral sex (male receiving)

A/N: I couldn’t leave everyone hanging long after the last chapter. I know it was a hard one, it was hard to write. I hope this one makes up for it. This is a work of fiction. No disrespect to Jensen or Jared or their families. *kinda a long chapter, with a slight time jump*

I edited this fast- please forgive any mistakes

This is my original work, do not take it.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Jensen sat against the wall outside your room for what felt like hours. His head was pounding and his eyes hurt from crying. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed in his life. His mind was in a haze and all his thoughts kept centering around you and the future you two were supposed to share.

The nurse who pushed him out of the room came up and kneeled beside him. Touching his shoulder he gently called his name “Mr. Ackles, you can come back in. She’s stable again. We were able to bring her back.” He helped Jensen to his feet and Jensen walked about into your room.

He saw you laying on the bed, still unconscious and pale. He hated seeing you like this. He felt completely powerless and it made him angry. “What happened?” Jensen asked in barely a whisper. “She suffered a blood clot that went to her heart. We can’t give her blood thinners right now until we are sure her bleeding has stopped. We will do some scans in a few hours to check and then start her on a regime of medication to help prevent further clots. We placed these on her legs to help keep the blood pumping.” The doctor moved the sheet back to reveal cuffs on your legs that inflated and deflated on your legs.

Jensen nodded his understanding. “Is she going to be okay?” “She’s still not out of the woods yet, if you’re a praying man I would suggest you pray. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. Really it’s up to her and her body to fight. We will give you two some privacy. Mr. Ackles, I will be praying for her.” Your doctor gently touched his shoulder before leaving the room.

Jensen sat beside you and held your hand. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I love you so much baby. I need you here with me and Tristan. I’m not ready to do this by myself. Please keep fighting baby.” Jensen laid his head on the bed beside you and quietly cried.

His phone went off and he checked it. It was a text from Jared asking how you were doing. He just sent a text back that you were still fighting. He didn’t have the energy to tell him what happened. One of the night nurses walked in and saw Jensen. She was an older woman and had a sweet smile. “Mr. Ackles, when was the last time you ate or drank anything?” She questioned. “I guess this afternoon at home. I’m okay. I don’t want to leave her.”

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder “Mr. Ackles, you are no good to her or your baby if you don’t take care of yourself. Go grab something to eat and drink, go see your son, and just breathe. I promise I won’t leave her side until you get back.” Jensen stood up and reluctantly let go of your hand. He leaned over and kissed your forehead. “I love you baby. I’ll be back soon. I’m going to check on Tristan.” He kissed you again and thanked the nurse.

He walked to the cafeteria and grabbed a coffee and a snack. He ate it quickly. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he sat and ate. After he finished he started walking to the nursery. Jensen looked through the glass and saw Tristan awake. His bright green eyes were looking around. His heart warmed and he smiled. His son was the greatest gift anyone has ever given him. He was so thankful you gave him this beautiful baby. The nurse saw him and smiled. She opened the door for him. “Hello, Mr. Ackles. Have you come to see baby Tristan?” Jensen smiled and he said yes.

Jensen walked over to Tristan and picked him up. He carried him to the rocking chair and sat down. “Hey baby boy. How’s daddy’s boy?” He looked down at Tristan and saw his green eyes looking up at him. He couldn’t believe how quickly he loved him. Then he had a realization. He put Tristan back down, kissed his head and told him he would be right back.

Jensen walked over to the nurse in the nursery and told her his idea. She thought it was a great idea and worth a shot. The nurse helped him push Tristan’s bassinet to your room. Once in the room he found the other nurse still sitting by your side. She smiled when she saw you and Tristan. “He’s absolutely beautiful, Mr. Ackles.” Jensen smiled and thanked her.

“I had an idea and I hope you can help me with it. I want to lay Tristan on her chest. Skin to skin. I think it will be good for her to feel her son.” Jensen told the nurse. “Oh Jensen, I think that’s a wonderful idea. Let me help you. You get baby Tristan down to his diaper and I’ll get her ready.” Jensen got baby Tristan down to his diaper and the nurse helped get your chest cleared enough of wires to lay Tristan down. Jensen carried Tristan over and carefully placed him on your chest. The nurse took your hand and placed it on Tristan.

Jensen and the nurses stood silently. Listening to your monitor and the soft coos of Tristan. Your heart rate started increasing. Jensen and the nurses exchanged looks. They stayed quiet and watched you and the monitor. Jensen leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Come on baby, Tristan is here waiting for his mommy. Please open your eyes. You can do it baby.”

Jensen saw your hand that was on Tristan twitch a little. His eyes went wide. Surely he was mistaken. He looked and saw it again. The nurse gasped when she saw it too. Then they all saw your hand tighten around Tristan, holding him tight. Your eyes started to flutter open. Jensen and the nurses couldn’t believe their eyes. You were waking up.

“I’m right here baby! Oh thank God! Y/N, it’s okay baby. You’re safe.” The nurse left to get the doctor so they could check you. While she was gone you woke up and saw Jensen. Tears fell from your eyes as you held your baby. The other nurse in the room told you to stay calm. The doctor would remove the tube. You nodded with understanding.

Jensen leaned over and kissed your forehead. “You came back to us. I love you so much baby.” The doctor walked in and saw you awake with Tristan on your chest. “You came back, Y/N. You’ve had so many people anxious for you to come back. I see you’ve met your son.” She smiled at you and Jensen. “Great idea, dad.” She looked at Jensen. “Okay, I’m going to remove this tube. When I do, your throat is going to be sore, but it’ll get better after a few hours. Are you ready?” You nodded. Jensen took Tristan off your chest and wrapped him in a blanket and held him.

The doctor removed the tube and gave you some water to drink. Your vitals were getting stronger and your color was starting to come back. “What happened?” You asked hoarsely. The doctor told you what happened in the operating room and most recently. Your eyes went wide and you looked over at Jensen who had tears in his eyes. “You got yourself a great man there. He wouldn’t leave your side, and he’s been so great with baby Tristan too.” The doctor told you. You took Jensen’s hand and held it.

“I need to text everyone and let them know you’re awake. They’ve all been worried.” Jensen said as he handed Tristan back to you. You took your son in your arms and looked at him. He was perfect. He looked like you but had Jensen’s eyes. He held your finger in his tiny hand and cooed. You smiled and whispered “Hey baby boy. You are so loved and so wanted. I can’t wait to watch you grow.” You kissed his head softly.

Jensen finished letting everyone know you were awake and they were going to be moving you to a recovery room soon so everyone could visit a few people at a time. Jensen sat beside you and watched you with Tristan and smiled. He took out his phone and took a picture. “Jensen, don’t take my picture. I look horrible.” “No you don’t, you’re breathtaking, and you’re holding our son.” He smiled.

“Our son. Our sweet baby boy is here. I can’t believe we did it, Jensen.” “No, you did it sweetheart. You carried him, gave birth to him, and fought to come back to us.” Jensen kissed your lips softly. “I was so scared, Y/N. I thought I was going to lose you. We almost did, but you came back to us.” A tear fell from Jensen’s eye.

“Oh baby, don’t cry. I’m okay. I could never leave you.” You grabbed his hand. The nurse walked in and told you they were moving you to recovery. Jensen took Tristan and placed him in his bassinet and the nurse started pushing your bed to your new room. Jensen pushed Tristan and followed behind you.

Once you arrived at your new room the nurse hooked you up to the monitor. “This will only be temporary. We need to monitor you a little while longer.” You nodded. Once you were hooked up she left you, Jensen and Tristan alone. Jensen picked up Tristan and brought him back over to you. You took Tristan in your arms and kissed his head. Jensen leaned down and kissed your lips. “I love you, sweetheart. So much!” “I love you too, Jens.”

“So what did Jared say about his name?” “He was over the moon. It took him a second to get it. I haven’t had a chance to tell Misha he’s here yet. I’ll text him later.” You nodded and continued to look at your son. You couldn’t believe you were a mom. There was a soft knock at the door and Jensen said come in. You looked up and saw Jensen’s parents and yours. When your mom saw you she cried and ran to hold you.

Everyone took a turn hugging you and then they turned their attention to baby Tristan. Your parents and Jensen’s didn’t stay too long. They wanted you to rest. Your mom kept hugging you and didn’t want to leave you. You understood, but her hugs were body crushing.

When they left you fed the baby and changed him. You had just finished feeding Tristan when there was a knock at the door. You said come in softly and saw Jared and Gen walk in. They both smiled big when they saw you up and holding the baby. “Oh my goodness. We are so happy you are okay.” Gen said as she hugged you. Jared smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you gave us quite a scare.” “So I heard. Thank you for being there for Jensen. I know it wasn’t easy for him or y’all.” “Hey, Y/N, that’s what family is for. We will always be there for you guys.” Jared said as he hugged you.

You tried to stifle a yawn that was building, but you couldn’t help it. Gen and Jared hugged you, Jensen, and Tristan before they left. Jensen placed Tristan in the bassinet and walked over to you. “I love you so much. I was so scared. I thought I was never going to see you again.” Jensen sighed. “Jens, what happened? I just remember them telling me they needed to do a c-section, but then everything went black after that.” “The doctor said your placenta detached and you started to hemorrhage. When they got Tristan out you started to bleed more. You lost a lot of blood and coded 4 times on the table. Later in your room you coded again, but you fought baby. You fought so hard to get back to us.” Jensen kissed your head as a tear slipped out.

“I’ll never stop fighting to stay with you and Tristan. I love you, Jensen. I’m so sorry you went through all of that.” You lifted your hand and cupped his cheek. He leaned down and for the first time in a while your lips touched in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was filled with so much need, love, and emotion. You melted into his lips as both of you moaned. A knock on the door interrupted the kiss. You blushed and said come in. The nurse came in to check your vitals and see if you needed anything. “I am a little hungry. Do you think I can get something to eat?” You questioned. “Absolutely! Dad, do you need anything?” The nurse turned towards Jensen. “No, I’m good. I’ll grab something later. Thank you though.” The nurse nodded and left the room.

“Jens, you looked exhausted. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? I’ll be okay.” Jensen smiled down at you. “I’m okay baby. That chair turns into a twin bed, I’ll get some sleep later. Right now I want to enjoy being here with my little family.” You playfully rolled your eyes, knowing it was useless arguing with him. “Okay, but promise me you will sleep. We need you in top shape.” You said as you motioned towards the baby.

The nursery nurse came to get Tristan just as your food arrived. “I need to take him for a bath, and to be checked by the pediatrician. I should be able to bring him back in a few hours.” You and Jensen nodded. You ate your food and Jensen chuckled. “You really were hungry, weren’t you?” You shook your head enthusiastically.

When you finished eating you laid down. Sleep was washing over you. Jensen walked over to you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.” When Jensen heard your soft snores he fixed the chair into a bed and kicked off his shoes. It wasn’t long before sleep was overtaking him too.

You woke up a few hours later and looked over to see Jensen fast asleep. You smiled and your heart filled with so much love. You couldn’t imagine the pain he went through. The doctor came in, breaking you away from your thoughts. She saw Jensen sleeping and she smiled. “Good afternoon, Y/N. How are you doing?” “I’m sore, but feeling pretty good. I heard I gave everyone a scare.” “Yes you did, especially him.” She pointed towards Jensen. “He refused to leave your side. I thought he was going to beat up one of my nurses.” She chuckled. “Oh no! He is fiercely protective of his family.” You told her. “I can see that. You’ve got yourself an incredible man there. I’m glad to see he’s finally resting.”

You looked over at Jensen, “me too.” “Okay, let's check you out and see what’s going on. I see everything looks good and you are healing. Your blood count is good and the scans we did show no more bleeding. This is all really good news. If you keep this up and your numbers stay up you can go home tomorrow.” “Oh my goodness, really?” You exclaimed. The doctor nodded yes.

As she was leaving the room Tristan was brought back in. The nurse handed him to you. He smelled so good after his bath and was wrapped up tightly in his blanket. You were so in love with him. He was a perfect mix of you and Jensen, with Jensen’s green eyes. When you first saw him you thought he favored you more, but now he definitely is a beautiful mix of the two of you.

You talked to him, held him and kissed him while Jensen slept. About half an hour after they brought Tristan in there was a soft knock at the door. You told them to come in. You smiled when you saw Clif and Misha. Clif walked over to you first. “Hey sweet pea, how are you feeling?” He kissed your head and looked down at the baby. “I’m okay. Doing so much better.” He nodded and looked over at Jensen and smiled.

Misha walked up next and looked at you and the baby. “Hey, Y/N. I can’t believe you named him after me, thank you. That means so much to me.” “Oh Mish, you’re an important part of Jensen’s life and mine too. Would you like to hold him?” Misha nodded and held out his arms. It warmed your heart to see Misha holding your son. You grabbed your phone to take a picture. Jensen would want to see this so you decided to take a picture.

Tristan started to whimper a little and Misha thought he did something wrong. You laughed and told Misha he was probably just wet. As Tristan started to whine more, Misha handed him back to you and Jensen started to wake up. Jensen stretched and stood up seeing Clif and Misha in the room. “Hey guys, good to see you. How long have I been asleep?” “A few hours, but you needed it.” You replied. Jensen nodded and walked over to Clif and Misha. He gave them both a hug and thanked them for coming.

“Well, we are going to head out and let you two rest. I’m in town for a few days, so I’ll see you guys soon.” Misha said as he leaned down to kiss your head. “Okay, thanks for coming. We really appreciate it.” You smiled. They both nodded, gave one last hug to Jense and you, then left.

“So the doctor came in while you were asleep and said everything is looking good. No more bleeding, blood count is steady and if I keep it up I can go home tomorrow. Can you believe it?” You told Jensen. “That’s great news baby. I can’t wait to get you two home.” Jensen replied.

The next morning the doctor came into your room early to talk to you and Jensen. “Well, it looks like everything is still going good. Your blood count is increasing and there is no sign of infection or potential for you to code again. I think it’s safe to send you home. The nurse will be in shortly to unhook you, and give you your discharge paperwork. If you need anything, day or night, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.” She smiled as she talked to you.

“Thank you doctor, we will. Thank you for taking such good care of me and my little one.” She hugged you and Jensen stood and hugged her too. “I want to see you in my office in about 5 weeks for a check up. If you need anything before then, let me know.” You nodded, “See you in 5 weeks then.”

The nurse came in and started unhooking the machines and took out your IV. “Okay, Miss. Y/L/N, you can shower and get dressed if you would like. Here are discharge instructions. Please follow them and call your doctor if you experience any complications. Keep all of your follow up appointments and take your medication as prescribed. Do you have any questions?” “No, thank you. I’m just eager to shower and get my family home.” You smiled. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know when you are ready and we will get you a wheelchair and home.”

She left the room and you slowly stood. Jensen helped you to the bathroom and offered to stay in the bathroom while you showered. As you stepped in the shower, the warm water enveloped your body like a hug. You sighed contently. You washed your hair and body, taking extra care around your incision. When you finished Jensen was waiting to help you out and dry off. “Jens, just hand me the towel, please. I don’t want you to see my body right now.” You said through the curtain. “Honey, no. Let me help you. I love your body. It’s beyond perfect.” He started to pull back the curtain. You bit your lip and tried to cover the best you could.

“Baby, please let me help you. Your body just did something amazing. Not only did you carry and give birth to our son, you fought like hell to stay here with us. You’re perfect and I love every part of you.” You slowly put your hands down and Jensen’s eyes looked at your body. “So beautiful.” He whispered as he helped dry you off. You blushed and pulled him close to you. You placed a kiss on his lips and whispered “I love you, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N. Now let’s get you dressed and home.” You nodded and smiled

A few minutes later you were dressed and Tristan was in his carseat ready to go home. Jensen was beaming with pride. The nurse came in and helped you in the wheelchair and started to wheel you out. Jensen followed close behind with Tristan. He pulled the car around and placed Tristan in the backseat, locking him into the base. You slid in the backseat with him as Jensen got up front.

You watched your sweet boy sleep and Jensen’s focus on the road. He was driving carefully. It made you chuckle. “Honey, you can drive the speed limit.” You laughed. “I’m trying to keep y’all safe,” he said. “Okay, baby.” You smiled.

The three of you arrived home safely. Both of your parents were waiting to welcome you home. The house was clean, there was food ready and everyone was so happy you and Tristan were home. Jensen’s mom and your mom came to your door and helped you out. Jensen grabbed Tristan’s carseat and carried him inside.

You sat on the couch and Jensen took Tristan out of his seat, laying him in the small bassinet beside you. He was sleeping peacefully. Your dad and Jensen’s were sitting at the table while your moms were in the kitchen finishing up setting the food out. Jensen ran upstairs to take a shower and change. You got up and started to walk upstairs. You heard the shower running when you got to the bedroom and bit your lip thinking about him in the shower.

You missed him and how he made you feel. You knew it was going to be awhile before the two of you could be intimate again, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t sneak a peek. You softly knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, Jens, need any help?” You whispered seductively. Jensen pulled back the curtain showing off his wet, toned body. You bit your lip and could feel the ache between your thighs.

Jensen stepped out of the shower and water trickled down his body. You walked up to him and kissed his lips. He deepened the kiss and you moaned. You felt his length harden against you. “Jens, let me take care of you.” You whispered as you slowly dropped to your knees. “Baby, you don’t have to do this.” Jensen told you. “I know, I want to.” You looked up at him seductively.

You took his hardening length in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. As your lips wrapped around him he groaned. You used your tongue to lick his length, starting at the base and all the way up to the pink tip. He had some precum on the head and you licked it off.

Your movements became fluid as you worked his length down your throat. Jensen’s hand went to your hair and helped guide you. Jensen moaned and grunted with each thrust. He was close already. “God baby, you feel so good. I’m not going to last long. I need to cum.” He moaned out. You pulled back and locked eyes with him, “cum for me baby, cum down my throat.” Your mouth took him in deep and a few thrusts more and he was cumming down your throat. His hot seed spilling in your mouth. When you felt his pulsing stop you pulled him out of your mouth.

Jensen helped you off your knees and pulled you into a hug, kissing you deeply. “Damn baby that was amazing. You didn’t have to do that.” “I know, I wanted to. You deserve so much more than that.” You kissed his lips and told him to get dressed.

*time jump 7 weeks*

You and Jensen worked really well as a team when it came to taking care of Tristan. Between diapers, baths and feedings you were getting good at being parents. Your follow up and Tristan’s first appointment went great. The doctor cleared you for all activities, as long as you took it easy.

Jensen and you decided it was time to announce the baby had arrived. You had pictures taken and you both picked your favorite one. The post read:

Y/N and I would like to announce the birth of our son, Tristan Dmitri Ackles. Born on August 23 at 22:35, weighing 7lbs 5oz, and 21” long. He was early, but was born healthy. Y/N and I are so in love with him and can’t wait to watch him grow. Thank you for all the love and support throughout this journey.

Jensen & Y/N

You couldn’t believe how fast the post went viral. It was shared and commented on so quickly. Everyone was so supportive and said he looked like you. Which made you giggle. Of course Jared and Misha had to comment about the baby being named after them. Their back and forth banter made you and Jensen laugh.

Jensen was upstairs in the nursery with Tristan while you were getting lunch ready. Jensen called you upstairs, he said he wanted to show you the outfit he just bought for Tristan. You smiled and went upstairs. “Let me see the adorable outfit you bought for him.” You said as you walked into the nursery. When you walked in you saw Tristan in his crib laying in a onesie that looked like a tuxedo. You giggled. “Well aren’t you just the most handsome little man. You look like you’re ready to go to prom.” As you turned around to ask Jensen where he got it from you gasped.

There Jensen was, behind you and on one knee. Your breath hitched. In his hand was an open ring box. “Y/N, from the moment I met you I knew I wanted to marry you. You’ve given me an incredible family and I know I should have asked you this a long time ago, but would you make me the happiest man on Earth and do me the most incredible honor of being my wife? Tears filled your eyes and spilled over onto your cheeks. “Yes! Jensen, yes I will marry you!” He stood, hugged you and kissed you. Then he placed the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen on your finger. “Jensen, it’s perfect, this was perfect.” “You’re perfect”, and he kissed your lips.

Tags: @nescaveckdaily @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @stoneyggirl2

#hes gorgeous #jensen ackles #so damn sexy #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader

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penny00dreadful · 9 months

Text

The Parting Glass

Hey I've been through some shit the last few weeks so let's do Christmas the Irish way. By making it ✨miserable✨ and putting Eddie through situations. But with a hopeful ending.

Just as a note of warning, this fic contains death, funerals and Eddie working through his grief. It was originally devised as a part of this fun little challenge and then... welp, I used it to process. 😅

The prompts I got were: Eddie arrives to town recently single to inherit something, Steve lives in the town and is a famous musician (but not here). Eddie falls in love with the holidays, the town and some guy. I'll be honest these prompts got away from me so they're not followed exactly.

AO3

For my granddad.

It was nearly Christmas and Eddie was driving back to Hawkins for the second time in two weeks.

He was alone.

Again.

And for good this time.

The last time, when he had come back when Wayne was sick and not getting any better, he wasn’t supposed to be on his own.

In the days leading up to it, Jack had been in his ear the entire time.

“I’ll be there for you.”

“I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’ll support you the whole way.”

All over the phone. It couldn’t be helped. Eddie was a writer, he could work from literally anywhere. Or at least anywhere that had an internet connection. Even then, he might not need that. Just a post box.

Jack was back home in their apartment that Eddie had bought them with his first big paycheck.

Eddie had called to tell him that Wayne had passed, numb and monotone and not really fully registering just what that meant. That he was gone. Like gone-gone.

Forever.

He wasn’t just gonna… open his eyes again and start talking. He wasn’t gonna go back home, or sit in his armchair or shout at the tv or lie in his own bed one last time… And… What about his mugs? He… Wayne had so many mugs, what was gonna happen to them? He loved those mugs.

And Jack had said he’d be there. He’d promised.

And then he wasn’t.

Because something had come up at work or he thought he was coming down with something or he hadn’t got enough sleep the night before and didn’t feel safe making the drive and he felt really bad about it, just a steady stream of excuses but also- that was it.

I feel really bad about it. Full stop. No attempt to say, I’ll make it up to you. Or even just the bare minimum of I’ll try my best to be there no matter what.

And like a flash in the pan Eddie went from devastated to angry to just cold acceptance.

“Fine.” He’d grit out over the phone, feeling simultaneously broken hearted and fucking indignant. Because, yes, it was a little selfish to feel like Jack should have thrown all that to the side to be here with him. But his fucking family had just died. He was allowed to be a little selfish.

Eddie needed him there.

Didn’t just want him there, he needed him there.

But instead he had to go through it all, alone.

He was on his own just before Christmas, trying to organise a funeral for the only family he had.

He didn’t have much time to think straight. He resolved to put it all out of his mind until this was all over because Wayne deserved his attention right now.

Eddie had expected it to be small and quiet if he was being honest with himself. Wayne had been a man who kept to himself and all he had was Eddie.

He was just thankful the local funeral home wasn’t completely decked out in tinsel and lights and trees. It was going to be hard enough as it was without a constant reminder of the time of year.

Quiet and subdued, with just a few stragglers, as depressing as that was. He could handle that right?

But then the people started turning up at the funeral home and they just didn’t stop.

The entire trailer park came out to see him, even Mrs. Cartwright, who was stone deaf and half blind with a bad hip, shuffled into the room on the arm of another of the neighbours, a red headed young woman, to offer her condolences. Then there were Wayne’s coworkers from the plant, the farmers he’d talk to in the pub, his fantasy football league, childhood friends that he hadn’t spoken to in years but still wanted to pay their respects, teachers from the school, store workers, the nurses who looked after him. Eddie’s own friends, the Corroded Coffin boys, the Hellfire kids, Rick, even some of his most loyal customers from back in his dealing days.

It kept going, just floods and floods of people young and old passing through the room to pay their respects, offer their condolences and shake Eddie’s hand.

He was completely overwhelmed. By the end of it, his hand was fucking sore, his throat was raw and if he lingered on the thought any longer, of how many people had shown up for his uncle, had loved him, he’d start crying all over again, even though he was pretty sure he’d run dry.

Jeff, Gareth and Grant hung around for hours after they’d been through the procession once, waiting for a moment to talk to him and ask if he wanted them to stay with him for the rest of the funeral and after. For as long as he was back in Hawkins.

It went unspoken that Eddie had been in that room alone and they were trying to save him from that, so he took them up on the offer. Stood with his oldest friends that he really should have spoken to more over the years while Wayne was lowered into the ground.

They took him out for a few drinks afterwards but Eddie didn’t have it in him to make it a whole night thing. He was exhausted, but he promised to stay in better contact.

When it all was said and done, Eddie found it incredibly difficult to get into the car and drive back.

He didn’t want to leave Wayne here alone.

He didn’t want to be states away anymore.

He wanted to be home. In this shitty little small town that he had hated growing up in but was such an important part of his life, that was familiar and sedentary and fucking quaint and most importantly had a memory of Wayne in every single corner.

Jack would never go for it.

But now that Eddie was on his own, in the car, it gave him a lot of time to stew on just how long he’d been on his own already.

Eddie loved fast and Eddie loved hard. If someone gained his trust or his loyalty, he would do anything for them. It would be a very, very hard thing for someone to lose. But it also made him incredibly blind to their flaws.

This wasn’t the first time Jack had pulled out of something at the last second. And most of the time it was just because he didn’t want to do whatever it was, regardless of if he had made promises about it.

And Eddie had let it go each and every time before because, well, it was fine. He got over it and it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But he had needed Jack there this time. And he’d done it all alone.

If the situations were reversed, Eddie would have crawled on his belly through broken fucking glass to be where Jack needed him and nothing less than an explicit “I don’t want you there” would have deterred him.

And when he got back to their apartment and Jack had turned to him with a sympathetic, “How was it?” Eddie fucking lost it.

He’d screamed so loud and with so much anger and devastation, the neighbours called the cops and again Eddie was on his own trying to explain what had happened while Jack just shuffled around in the background looking vaguely guilty and shell shocked, muttering “You never told me you wanted me there” when the cops finally left.

And Eddie was just fucking done. He was broken. It was finished.

“I didn’t think I had to. My family died. And you had been telling me the entire time that you’d be there. You told me you’d be there for me. And then you just weren’t.”

So that was it.

Eddie couldn’t stand to be in that city anymore. Anonymous and lonely and fucking claustrophobic. Couldn’t stand to be in the apartment with its white Christmas lights and expensive baubles and store bought charm without an inch of personality because it “looks prettier this way.”

The fucking cushions that couldn’t be used to prop up his back because he’d squish the filling and the throws that were there for decoration, placed perfectly, giving the apartment the impression of lived in warmth without any actual emotion in it.

He sold the apartment to Jack, waiting for the heartbreak of the end of a years long relationship to finally hit him. But it never did.

Maybe his emotions were all worn out and it would hit him properly later.

The same way he knew he still hadn’t fully registered that Wayne was gone yet.

So.

Now he was here.

Standing in the cold of the trailer park, his breath fogging up in front of him, snow crushed underneath his boots and night blanketing him. He had a box of stuff in his arms, rooted to the ground between his still warm car and the dark and shadowed front door, thinking hysterically for a moment that he hadn’t asked Wayne if he could move back in.

But he couldn’t, of course he couldn’t, Wayne was gone and he wasn’t coming back and Eddie had no way of contacting him in the fucking afterlife if there even was one to ask if he could turn up on his doorstep again in almost the exact same way he had nearly fifteen years ago.

Wayne would have probably given him a light smack over the back of the head and told him he was always welcome, no matter the circumstances.

Still.

It felt wrong to just assume he could be here without checking in with him first.

He could hear his voice in his head, could almost see him standing silhouetted in the warm glow of the doorway, looking soft and worn in. “Get your ass in here son, before you freeze to death.”

Eddie blinked and the door was closed and dark and empty again. There was no noise coming from inside the trailer, no sound of the tv going, no smells of cooking, no heat, no light.

It was an empty shell.

The glow of the other trailers surrounded him, the small muffled noises of life going on inside each and every one, warm yellows spilling out of their windows or multicoloured lights lining their roofs or their porches, Mariah Carey singing her heart out somewhere in the distance.

“No one ever tells you the front door is one of the hardest parts.”

Eddie jumped, whipping his head around to find the same redheaded woman standing off to the side, bundled up in a thick homemade scarf and puffer jacket, her hands in her pockets and winter boots unlaced, like she'd just thrown them on, the grooves in the snow behind her telling him she’d walked to him from somewhere across the park.

Eddie squeezed the box a little tighter to himself, finally feeling the biting cold through his fingers.

“Yeah. I-” he swallowed, looking up at the door again. “How long have I been standing here?”

He could hear the snow crunching under her boots as she came closer. “I don’t know.” Fabric rustled somewhere beside him as she shrugged. “Mrs. Cartwright only told me you were out here a few minutes ago. I dunno how she even noticed, she can barely see five foot in front of her face.”

Eddie turned to the trailer he remembered the old lady living in to see her sitting by the window, squinting out into the snow. She offered him a toothless smile and a little wave when she saw the two of them looking back.

He was just about able to unstick his hand from the box to wave back.

“And you’re her-?”

“Neighbour. But I check in on her as often as I can. She’s good company.”

“Oh.”

The two of them stood there, in the cold, in the snow, just looking at each other and Eddie could feel the spectre of the dark and empty trailer looming over him. Before this redhead turned up, he could have conceivably turned back, gotten into the car and found a motel room or something for the night. This might have all been easier to face in the daytime.

But now he’d been seen, he was trapped and he couldn’t escape. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

“When my mom died,” the woman said, coming around to face him, “I just kinda switched off. I was on autopilot for a lot of the time but my first day back at the trailer after the burial, I couldn’t go inside. She wasn’t in there anymore. Same as you, I don’t know how long I was out there before Steve came and found me.”

“You’re Max.” Eddie said, his brain finally putting the pieces together. “Wayne talked about you.”

Max’s face broke out into a wide delighted grin. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Eddie smiled back. “He said you never wore your helmet when you were skateboarding.”

She snorted. “Yeah. And the one time he finally convinced me to, I took a hell of a tumble. Broke my-”

“Leg, I think it was?”

“Nah, man.” Max shook her head. “Not just my leg, I broke my damn femur. Strongest bone in the body and snap.” She clapped her gloved hands together, muffling what should have surely been a hard impact. “With six months of therapy to go along with it. Got me into the job I’m in today, though.”

“He said you’re a physical therapist?”

“Yup. And he said you’re a writer.”

Eddie nodded.

“Well then, Writer Eddie Munson. How do you feel about the front door now?”

He looked back up, finding that it wasn’t quite as intimidating as it had been before.

“A little better.”

“Good. I’m glad. Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uh-” he looked back down at the box in his hand, flexing his fingers around the keychain he still had hanging off his thumb. “Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind.”

Max nodded, stepping forward and taking the box from him. Eddie gave her a small smile before squaring his shoulders and facing the door once more and stepping up towards the porch before he could stop himself.

Amongst his set of similar shaped keys, he easily found the one to the trailer, the same one he had cut out of a black blank when he was younger and so edgy.

With a deep breath he slipped it into the lock and turned, feeling it catch like it always did halfway through and jostling it in a way that was so familiar from years of doing the same thing, it hit him like a truck.

He swallowed down hard as he gestured Max in, switching the lights on.

It didn’t smell like Wayne anymore. Not really. It had been weeks since anyone had been inside. But the memory of the smell was there.

It was freezing, an empty shell of a building that had been left to hold its ghosts. The pipes were probably frozen through too, but he and Wayne had handled that plenty of times before, this would be nothing new.

Everything of Waynes was still here. His boots were by the door, his jackets were hung up, his mugs lined the walls. The remote was on the floor next to his recliner, like it had been accidentally nudged off of the arm and hadn’t been picked up yet.

It was like Wayne had just stepped out, or was hiding in another room.

Eddie could feel his heart start to crumble just a little more.

The two of them got his boxes and bags unpacked from his car and into the trailer in silence. He was pretty sure Max knew that he was just waiting for her to leave so he could break down in peace but even so, she turned to face him after placing the last box down.

“You can say no.” She said, hands back in her pockets. “But a few friends are flying in on Thursday and we’re going to meet up at Cathy’s. You’re welcome to come if you’re feeling up for it.”

Cathy’s pub, Wayne used to go there all the time. The actual name of the place was The Attic, but no one called it that, everyone called it Cathy’s. As much of an Irish pub as one could get out in Hawkins without actually being an Irish Pub. It just happened to be run by an Irish woman who refused to entertain four leaf clovers and green pints and had kicked people out in the past for calling it ‘Patty’s Day’ instead of ‘Paddy’s Day.’

Eddie nodded at her, his eyes already starting to mist up from everything settling around his shoulders.

“Thanks.” He sniffled. “I’ll think about it.”

She offered him a gentle smile and said her goodbyes, not lingering around when he so clearly wanted to be on his own.

He watched through the window as Max carved a path through the snow back to Mrs. Cartwright’s trailer, before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath and starting to unpack.

Last night had been one of the roughest nights of Eddie’s entire life.

He’d only managed to switch the electric heater on and open one box before the silence got to him.

He’d switched on the tv and had to flip channels for far too long before he found what he was looking for because he didn’t know where the sports channels were hidden away, he’d never wanted or needed to look for them before.

But having the trailer filled with the sound of sports commentators and the crowds in the stadium and an obscene amount of advertisements was enough to make him crack.

He’d ended up in a ball on the floor, crying so much he felt like he’d never stop, breathing so hard he felt himself getting lightheaded.

Every time the tears subsided and he had started to get a handle on himself, he saw something that would start the cycle all over again. The Garfield mug, Wayne’s favourite winter hat, the stash of red vines he kept hidden beside his armchair, a habit he got into and never got out of when they were living together to keep them away from Eddie’s sweet-tooth.

By the time Eddie had pulled himself up to curl into the couch, he had a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a nest of Wayne’s clothes surrounding him, the smell just barely lingering.

He drank himself into a stupor.

The morning after was equally rough but in an entirely different way. When he was woken up by the sound of daytime life outside the trailer door, bleary and foggy, he recognised his surroundings before anything else.

“Wayne?” He’d called, half expecting to turn to find him in his armchair, the sounds of the sports channel still filling in the space of the room.

But then he remembered.

All over again he remembered.

He was barely able to do anything for himself that day. Most of it was spent staring off into space, waiting for things to get better, like everyone always said it would. Waiting for the pain to dull and to be able to function again.

He stood in the doorway of what had been Wayne’s bedroom and then his own and became Wayne’s again once he moved out.

He never thought he’d be back here, moving back into this exact same bedroom all over again.

He didn’t sleep in the bed that night. Or the night after.

He couldn’t. Not yet.

He had managed to get the water running, so that was a plus and by the time he had some of his stuff unpacked the trailer no longer looked like a warehouse full of boxes, but instead looked like a cluttered and messy home.

He didn’t have the strength to move any of Wayne’s things, so his own stuff just kind of existed in corners or on countertops and it was fine.

Everything was fine.

This was his life now.

This was what he wanted.

It was fine.

Snow was starting to swirl around him as he stood outside Cathy’s, slowly accumulating in his hair and building up around his boots as the warm light and laughter inside seeped out of the building.

There were twinkling multi-colored lights lining the outside and glittering through the fogged up windows and Eddie could see inside was decorated with green garlands draped from every available surface, red, gold and silver baubles woven in throughout and topped off with a healthy smattering of tinsel.

It was the most inviting thing he had seen recently and he ached to go inside. It was just so full of memories.

But he was stuck.

Rooted to the spot like he had been outside the trailer door a few days ago.

Wayne would have loved all of this.

He loved Christmas.

He loved Christmas late nights at Cathy’s.

And it was only really then, when he’d been so painfully aware of it in the back of his mind for the last few weeks, that this was going to be the first Christmas he had to endure without Wayne.

“Eddie?”

Well, no running now.

But it wasn’t Max this time.

“Eddie Munson, my god. Is that really you?”

Eddie turned and was met by the sight of someone he hadn’t seen in the longest time.

“Chris?”

Chrissy Cunningham was standing in front of him in all her short and bright glory with a blinding smile on her face. Something deep in him warmed under her gaze. They hadn’t been friends for very long before they both skipped town in opposite directions, not to mention the ill-fated crushes they had both quietly harboured for each other once upon a time, but that was never gonna work out.

Even so, a friendly face he recognised was just what he needed right now. Someone to help him brace everything in front of him through those doors. The Wayne of it all. And the terror of potentially being introduced to a whole group of people as a new outsider, in mourning, no less.

A loud burst of laughter rang out from inside as they looked at each other and Eddie felt something fizzle and settle gently in his chest.

In a tiny little moment, they clicked again, still friends after all this time, no matter the distance.

Chrissy looked at him, a thousand emotions passing through her eyes as she worked through what she was going to say. She had definitely heard about Wayne’s death. Wayne had taken her in on more than one occasion when her mother had gotten to be too much.

Eddie had to get his ability to collect strays from somewhere, after all.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. By the time I heard I couldn’t get a flight in time and I should have been here for you.”

“It’s okay.” he smiled at her. And it was okay, really.

She wormed her hand in between his elbow and his side where they were clenched tight from the cold, looping her arm through. “I’ll stick with you the whole night if you want me to.”

Eddie’s whole body sagged in relief, not knowing he needed to hear it until he did.

“Please.”

Chrissy nodded, a steely look of determination on her face and their arms held tight together as they pushed their way inside.

The warm glow and homely smells hit him immediately and he felt his shoulders loosen even more. It was loud inside but not unbearable, the sounds of conversation mingling in with the speakers softly playing out a mix of traditional Irish music and what had to be some Christmas best hits album.

Eddie dragged his eyes across the bar, while Chrissy looked around at the people sitting at various tables and booths.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” He asked.

“I only just flew in today. I’m supposed to be meeting up with a number of- oh! There they are.”

She pointed towards the back by the fire that Cathy had put in, claiming it couldn’t be a proper pub without a fire. The series of tables were all pushed a little closer to each other, overflowing with people and Eddie had to blink at them a few times, realising there were definitely a few familiar faces grinning back at him and waving the two of them over.

The first person he recognised was Max, her bright red hair standing out amongst the sea of browns and chestnuts and blacks. It was then that his eye was drawn around the table and saw his Corroded Coffin boys and the Hellfire kids looking back at him.

Damn, he’d forgotten to tell the boys about his impulsive move back here. He hadn’t really told anyone about it apart from Jack. But they didn’t seem to hold it against him. It was plain as day on their faces that they knew he might not exactly be doing things logically right about now.

And then there were the Hellfire kids.

Or he supposed he could hardly call them kids anymore.

They would all be somewhere in their mid-twenties at this stage and wasn’t that just a mind trip?

They all stood to greet Chrissy and himself, hugs and pats on the back all around, the Hellfire kids and Max introducing one of the few truly unfamiliar faces amongst the bunch, El. Another woman he vaguely recognised gave him a small wave but eventually he realised who she was, because this was a small town and everyone at least knew of everyone in one way or the other.

Robin Buckley, from band.

What a strange mix of people.

She and Chrissy shared a long look with each other, eventually revealing that Robin was her long term girlfriend.

Eddie nodded along, told her it was nice to meet her but couldn’t help the taste of bitterness that rose up in his throat when he looked at the two of them, not being able to remember the last time he had been out with Jack and feeling like his company was enjoyed and Jack wasn’t just waiting to go home with or without him.

It had barely been a week since they had broken up but the loneliness had been there for a while.

He had only just managed to get his coat and scarf off before Cathy appeared at their table, a drink in each hand.

“Eddie, darling.” She said, placing the two drinks down in front of him and scooping him up into a hug. “It’s so good to see you back home, love.”

She was an older woman, warm and wrinkled and soft, smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke and perfume in a mix that shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.

“Thanks, Cathy.” He muttered into her neck, pulling back away only to find his face in her hands.

“If you need anything at all, you know where to find me, right?”

He gave her a shaky smile, not really sure what to do with himself, he could feel everyone else at the table watching them.

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.” She grinned back at him, petting his cheek before gesturing down at the drinks she dropped off at the table.

“This is for you, love. On the house.” She pointed at the beer bottle. “And this one,” she rested her hand next to the glass of whiskey, neat. Wayne’s drink. “It’s tradition. One last tipple for your dear uncle. And none of you,” she whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at everyone in the booth, “are to touch it.”

They all stared up at her wide eyed and nodded while she turned her smile back on Eddie. “You take care of yourself, now. You hear me?”

“I’ll do my best.” He gave her a short salute and she rolled her eyes at him in a good natured way before turning and heading back to the bar.

Eddie swept his eyes over the pub, hoping to get an idea of how much of a scene had been made, as quiet as they had been tucked away in their corner. But before he could take a proper inventory, the doors were pushed open and even from the back of the pub Eddie could feel the cold following in the figure's wake.

The newcomer brushed the snow out of his hair and stomped his shoes out before flashing a smile at Cathy and weaving his way through the tables towards them.

He was almost offensively pretty, his cheeks, nose and lips rosy from the cold, unwinding a scarf from around his neck, giving Eddie a glance at a spattering of moles across his skin. He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to get out the last of the snow.

He looked so familiar.

It had been a long ten or so years since they'd seen each other, but it couldn’t be.

Could it?

“Hi, sorry I’m late, I-”

“Harrington?”

Steve Harrington stopped short, standing in front of him, staring at him with cheeks getting slightly redder.

“Eddie.” He said, a little breathlessly, running his hand through his hair again, but it seemed to be more from nerves this time. “Hi.”

Oh, so they were on first name terms? Okay, he could deal with that.

Except that maybe he couldn’t deal with it, because his childhood Big Gay Crush was standing in front of him, smiling at him and looking like he’d just been beamed out of the campest Christmas movie in existence, the warm glow of the Christmas lights and the fire dancing across his skin, bundled up in a dark red sweater and his hair was somehow still perfect.

But he was saved from having to respond as the group started shuffling around to greet him, Robin reaching out to pull him into a tight hug, like they hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Eddie moved back, sitting down at a stool at the edge of the tables, next to Chrissy and across from Robin and Steve who were whispering fiercely to each other, Robin explaining the whiskey on the table wasn’t to be touched and sending what they must have thought were subtle nods in his direction and well, he wasn’t sure what else he expected from tonight.

Apparently he was a local spectacle now.

But still, his boys were here, the Hellfire kids were here, Chrissy was here, he had plenty of people available to him to distract himself from Steve sitting directly across from him.

He had only managed to get halfway through the drink Cathy had brought him before he was approached again, this time by an older man who he recognised as one of the guys on Wayne’s shift.

He placed a fresh drink down in front of Eddie and told him Wayne was a good man, that the world was a little dimmer for his passing and he was a hell of a baseball player back in the day, could throw a ball at speed like no one he had ever seen since.

Eddie smiled and listened as the guy spoke, the clear affection and joy he had for his uncle warming his heart.

It was barely ten minutes after that guy had gone back to his own group that Eddie was approached again, another drink placed down in front of him and more sympathies and stories of Wayne’s past gifted to him from people who had known him.

It went on like that throughout the whole night, a steadily revolving door of people coming to talk to him about his uncle.

Stories of the stupid and dangerous shit they had gotten up to in their childhoods, stories of cow tipping (which Eddie had heard from Wayne’s own mouth was a bold faced lie but a fun one to tell), tractor racing (which he had not heard about) and one time Wayne had been chased out of Farmer Dan’s barn by the man himself wielding a shotgun, convinced he’d been corrupting his daughter.

Stories of nights playing poker, learning to never ever trust his poker face, his abysmal luck when it came to his fantasy football teams and how much he loved to get a bit of drink in him and sing at the top of his lungs, which Cathy always humoured, often joining in.

Almost as if she had been summoned, Cathy appeared at his other side.

“Will we have a little sing-song for your uncle, love?”

Eddie looked up at her and thought about it. To hear the accented and cracking old voices singing along to the songs that just seemed to live in pubs like these would probably hurt, but it would be like lancing a wound.

It would sting but it would be healing.

“Yeah.” He said. “I don’t see why not.”

“Would you do us the honours, then?”

Eddie felt his eyes go wide. He was never really much of a singer. “Oh. No,” he blushed, shaking his head, “I don’t think so, I’ll leave that up to the professionals.” He gestured around to the group of older men he had managed to collect as the night wore on. “If it’s one thing Wayne didn’t hand down to me, it was his singing voice.”

Cathy waved him off. “Oh nonsense, you have a lovely voice.”

He really didn’t.

“I really don’t.”

“We’ll be singing along with you anyway-”

“No, I’d rather not-”

“I could do it for you.”

Eddie turned to face Steve who was looking the least nervous that he had for the entire night, his gaze steady and confident, clearly comfortable in his singing ability. Robin was staring hard at the side of his head, like she was trying to beam thoughts directly into his brain. Eddie’s heart was thumping in his chest and he could feel his cheeks start to heat up, something he was pretty sure had little to do with the drink.

“You sing, Steve?”

Robin’s mouth ticked up at Eddie’s question though she tried to hide it, like she was harbouring a little secret.

“I’ve been known to.” Steve’s own lips curled up, shooting that tiny little smile Eddie’s way and-

Oh.

Oh shit.

Childhood Big Gay Crush, you’ve been upgraded to Current Big Gay Crush.

“Any requests?”

Eddie thought back.

There was only one song that came to mind to kick them off.

Wayne had always loved a certain type of song to sing in the pubs and when Metallica came out with a cover of one of them, a cover of the Thin Lizzy version? It was solidified.

It was their song, regardless of which version was being sung.

Now he just had to try to get through it without bursting into tears.

“Whiskey In The Jar.”

Steve smiled at him bright and blinding. “Thank god you didn’t say The Rattlin’ Bog.”

Eddie grinned back. “I couldn’t dump you in the deep-end like that, sweetheart.”

Cathay was practically bouncing with excitement and when Steve opened his mouth and started to sing, not a hint of bashfulness or embarrassment to be seen, it didn’t take long for Wayne’s friends to join in, singing and clapping along, stomping their feet and whooping.

Eddie just sat and listened. Just for that one song. He could feel it settle around his heart and clog up his throat but he could handle it. Steve’s voice was smooth and clear, like it all came to him with zero effort, like he was born to it, the bastard.

Eddie was able to keep it together through that song and while the applause surrounded him and Steve was starting to field suggestions for more songs, the rest of their table started to join in, the energy of the pub becoming electric.

As the night wore on and Eddie was handed drink after drink, he found himself drifting right into the group, until he was in the middle, Steve’s arm stretched over the back of the booth behind them, squished in together as they were. They didn’t strictly need to be as pressed up against each other as they were, but neither of them were moving and Eddie would take his comforts where he could, listening to the voice vibrating from the body next to him.

Eddie was able to hold it together until they decided they’d do one last song and he knew he wasn’t going to survive it dry eyed.

Of all the money that ever I had,

I spent it in good company.

Steve had barely gotten through the first verse before the tears started, just a slow and quiet trickle but noticed immediately regardless.

Steve’s hand dropped from where it was at the back of the booth to land around Eddie’s shoulders, giving him a little squeeze while Chrissy took his hand, resting her head on his shoulder.

Steve sang slow and unaccompanied, his voice ringing out clear and steady while Cathy and Wayne’s friends listened with heads hung low. He let the last notes fade out, keeping Eddie tucked in tight to his side as the applause rang out and everyone started making their moves to head home.

Even as Eddie had to go through the rigmarole of shaking hands and kissing cheeks, much drunker than he thought he was, Steve held onto him. He heard more than one of Wayne’s friends mutter “You take care of him, you hear?” or “Get him home safe” and each time Steve smiled and nodded, assuring them he would.

He didn’t know exactly when he had become Steve’s problem but he was too drunk to care, it was nice to be looked after for once.

Sunlight was spearing straight through his head. Someone hadn’t closed the blinds properly last night and now he was being assaulted by this world's version of Pelor in what had to be some kind of revenge for something terrible he must have done in a past life.

Dragging his eyes around the trailer, he was thankful that he was on the couch. He hadn’t slept in Wayne’s bed since moving back here. He didn’t think he would be able to for a while yet. At least not until he started moving some of his stuff out and who knew how long that might take.

It didn’t feel right, taking Wayne out of his own bedroom for the second time in his life.

But even so, he wondered which poor misfortune from the pub last night had been the one to deal with him and take him home, probably seeing the state things had been left in and the fact that he was clearly using the couch as a bed.

Maybe it had been Max. He kind of hoped it had been Max, he felt like she could probably relate the best, though Chrissy would have been kind about it too.

Eddie was able to drag himself up to sitting, still clad in his t-shirt and boxers, so at the very least, whoever had spilled him onto the couch last night didn’t get an accidental show.

There was something sticking in the back of his head that it could have been Steve who brought him home but that would be the most embarrassing eventuality of all so he just straight up ignored it, making his coffee as strong as humanly possible and dragging himself and the coffee into the shower.

Today was gonna be… today was gonna be an inside day. He didn’t think he could stomach the outside world, all the brightness and snow and Christmas lights and festive cheer in mourning and hungover.

His trailer was the only one left in the park undecorated. He couldn’t…

He just couldn’t.

Not right now, anyway.

Maybe next year.

He and Wayne had always done it together. Even when Eddie had moved away from home, he’d make the drive back down at the start of December every year to help, staying the night and then going back to Jack for a couple of weeks then coming back again for the week of Christmas.

He-

Oh.

He was going to be completely alone this year.

He didn’t just not have Wayne.

He didn’t have Jack either.

And no doubt, everyone who was back in town was back in town for their own reasons, to see their own friends and family, not to bring in a stray mourner who would undoubtedly bring the mood down.

Well, that was fucking depressing.

But it was fine.

He’d make himself a mountain of waffles and eat nothing but those all day and watch stupid horror movies and smoke himself into oblivion to avoid the destructive hangover and it would be fine.

It would hardly be a Christmas but it would be fine.

A knock at the door made him blink and woke him up from his daily routine of staring off into space. He had finally found himself feeling somewhat human, at least physically. Dressed and dried and on his second round of coffee and first round of painkillers, standing in the doorway to Wayne’s bedroom again when the knock came.

He glanced between the front door and the bedroom, wondering if it was even worth it to see what salesperson or caroler was on the other end. They didn’t deserve his moody ambivalence, but whoever it was knocked again and maybe just the sight of him would be enough to scare them away.

He swung the door open and nearly closed it immediately when Steve looked up at him with a shy smile.

He didn’t know if he could handle this right now.

“Hi.” Steve said, his cheeks pink either from the cold or from embarrassment, Eddie wasn’t sure which.

He was like… fifty percent sure that Steve might be, maybe, giving him some signals but also he got very, very drunk last night and he was pretty sure he remembered crying on someone’s shoulder after he got home too so, he was probably not the best judge of these things.

“Hi.” Eddie clutched his coffee cup tighter in his hand. “I’d invite you in, but I would rather you not see how I’m living right now.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I’ve already- nevermind.” He shook his head. “I can’t stay long anyway, I just wanted to check if you were okay after last night.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows and blew a breath out through his lips. “I’m… I’m. Well. I’m… coping, I suppose.”

Steve nodded, eyes cast down to glance around the porch. There was a flake of snow clinging to one of his eyelashes, Eddie didn’t know how it got there. It hadn’t been snowing that morning, not from what he’d seen anyway, cooped up inside. Steve looked up towards the roof of the trailer and then around the edges, no doubt taking in its depressing and undecorated exterior.

“Listen, I-”

Steve hesitated, his cheeks burning a little brighter, hands shoved in his pockets and arms curled in tight towards himself. Eddie felt a little bad about leaving him out here in the cold, not even inviting him in regardless of how it was inside, it felt unnecessarily mean but he didn’t know if he could handle having Steve in his space right now. He felt like he was at either a knife’s edge or unbearably dull this morning.

“I wanted to offer you- or, I don’t know. If you didn’t have any plans, that- well, I’m hosting everyone at my place on Christmas day and you would be more than welcome if you wanted to come. Y’know… if you weren’t… if you didn’t-”

“If I’m gonna be alone?”

Steve turned his big sad eyes on him, mouth gone slack from shock.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant. I never meant to suggest-”

Eddie shrugged, taking a sip from his mug.

“It’s an unfortunate fact, right now, Stevie. I am alone. It’s depressing but it’s the truth.”

“Well.” Steve took a big breath in. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Eddie hummed, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Who’s everyone? I don’t know if I would be able to handle your parents. No offence.”

Steve scoffed. “None taken. They haven’t set foot in that house in nearly ten years. It’s not theirs anymore, it’s mine.”

“Oh. They dead too?”

To Steve’s credit, he didn’t flinch at the words that were maybe a little harsher than they needed to be, he met Eddie’s eye, determined and unwavering.

“No, they’re not. They left Hawkins, left me the house, called it my inheritance and drove off. They’re in New York now. We exchange Christmas cards but that’s about it.”

Eddie was a little bewildered.

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

Steve shrugged. “We know who we are to each other.”

So Steve still had parents out there in the world and they just… didn’t talk to each other? And from the sounds of it, all three of them seemed fine with that? Now that sounded depressing.

“Steve, I’m… I’m sorry.”

Steve tilted his head, their eyes never once wavering. “It’s a different kind of mourning, I suppose.” He shuffled a little bit in the cold and fuck, Eddie really should have invited him inside, but it looked like he was getting ready to leave anyway. “So, on the day it’ll be me, Rob and Chris. The kids will come over later on in the evening. And I think Dustin has invited those three guys from your band too, so they might show up. Like I said, no pressure, you do whatever it is you’re comfortable with but I think they’d all like to see you, I’d-”

Steve swallowed, his face getting pinker.

“I’d like to see you.”

Eddie could feel a grin tugging at his lips, something giddy and hopeful blooming in his belly despite everything. “Oh, would you now?”

Steve flashed him a charming grin, his shoulders relaxing almost imperceptibly while he dragged his eyes down towards Eddie’s lips and then back up. “I would.”

“Well then, I’ll have to see what I can do.”

Despite the things he said to Steve, he wasn’t sure he was going to turn up until he did.

He’d gotten into his car Christmas morning with a thermos of hot chocolate and an insulated blanket and visited Wayne.

He’d placed Wayne’s old fashioned chipped and battered mug that he only ever drank hot chocolate out of at Christmas time, a painted wreath and ‘Merry Christmas’ decorating the front, down next to the wooden cross dug into the head of his grave.

The headstone wouldn’t be finished for another few weeks.

He spread the blanket down over the snow, wishing he’d thought to bring a cushion but powering through regardless.

He poured out some hot chocolate for himself and Wayne, sat back, drank and just… talked.

He told Wayne about his breakup with Jack, about selling the apartment, about moving back into the trailer, apologised for not checking in with him first before he did. He talked about everyone who came to the funeral and the night at the pub, the songs, the people he spoke to, the friends he found there.

Steve.

He might have spent a little longer talking about Steve. It was nothing Wayne hadn’t heard before, though. Eddie had talked about him a lot during school.

He rambled and tripped over his words and laughed and cried.

He was alone in the graveyard. No one else was visiting at this cold hour of the morning, they would all probably stop by after mass or after dinner but Eddie hated the idea of not seeing him first thing.

Going back home after that was hard.

His hands were stiff and creaking, his ass was so numb from the cold it had come back around to hurting again and he didn’t know if it would ever thaw, but sitting in his van outside the trailer, looking at it cold and empty and undecorated he knew he couldn’t spend the whole damn day here.

He wasn’t sure what time he was supposed to show up to Steve’s but it seemed like an informal enough invite so he tried to distract himself as best as he could before he could make his appearance at an appropriate time.

He called it tidying but it was really just moving things around from corner to corner, trying to find spaces for his stuff to live, but at the very least the trailer no longer looked like Eddie had just dumped his entire life out onto the living room floor.

Which… he had but it didn’t really look like it anymore.

By the time the evening started to close in around him, he figured now was as good a time as any to go, it was certainly a better idea than sitting around with his blank word document, bouncing his knee or chewing on his fingers or staring off into space.

He did try to at least pull himself together to look presentable enough. Or as presentable his ripped jeans would allow him to be.

At the last second he reached for one of Wayne’s flannels, a buffalo check in red and black that felt Christmassy enough, slipping it on over his t-shirt and under his jacket.

Steve’s house was completely decked out. Even from the outside Eddie could tell he’d gone all out, every edge of the roof was crawling with twinkling warm white lights, there were LED candle arches lighting up every window and a large wreath surrounding the door knocker. Through the windows he could see that the inside was much the same.

Steve’s whole face lit up into a bright smile when he opened the door to Eddie standing there with his hands in his pockets.

“You came.” He breathed.

“I did.” Eddie smiled back. “I hope you don’t mind, I'm a little empty handed. By the time I remembered it was polite to bring something to these things it was already too late and I’ve been a little scatter-brained recently-”

“No, no. That’s fine, Eds.” Steve waved him in and Eddie tried not to let his stomach completely fly away with him at the nickname. “Come in. I’m just happy you're here, empty handed or not.”

Just like Steve had that night at the pub in his red sweater and perfectly tousled hair, the entire house looked like it had been transported out of a Christmas movie. The space was warmly lit by various lights strung around the bannister, fresh green garlands swagged over doorways and the fireplace, which was roaring and warm.

Red and green stockings were lined up over the mantle, almost too many to fit, and a large regal Christmas tree was decked out to the nines with a mishmash of different coloured decorations.

The tree and the garlands gave the whole place an inviting smell, complemented by the scent of cooking and baking that was wafting in from the kitchen.

Steve helped him slip his jacket off his shoulders, hanging it up over the coat rack.

“Can I get you something to drink? You’re just in time, dinner should be coming out of the oven any second now.”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Steve shot him a blinding smile, turning and disappearing through an entryway while Eddie wandered to stand in front of the fire.

He stared down at it, letting the warmth spread over him wondering if he really should be feeling… more? Less?

He still felt sad that Wayne was gone and excited at the idea that something might be brewing with Steve, but was that right? Was that normal? Should there be other things? He didn’t know.

He was distracted from those thoughts by the sound of bickering coming from the kitchen.

“Rob, let me just-”

“No, get out!”

Steve stumbled through the doorway with a little pout on his face, managing to keep the two wine glasses in his hands from spilling over.

“Did you just get kicked out of your own kitchen?”

“Yeah.” He grumbled, handing one of the glasses to Eddie and Eddie did not blush when their fingers light grazed one another. He was an adult fucking man who’d done many filthy, dirty things in his life. He did not blush at a finger graze. “She won’t let me do anything else. Said I’ve cooked enough already which, I don’t know how that could possibly be true considering it isn’t even finished yet but-”

Steve cut himself off with a bite to his lip.

“Sorry, that’s- nevermind. I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay, Stevie. I don’t mind.”

Steve smiled, a little more to himself than to Eddie and said softly, “I like it when you call me that.”

Eddie had to drag his eyes away, the sweetness of Steve’s grin was too much to handle right now.

“I like it when you call me Eds.”

They were just standing there smiling at each other and slowly rocking on their feet, like they wanted to inch forwards but neither was brave enough to take the leap.

“Are you in the food industry? Is that why Robin gave you the boot?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “I think I probably would have liked it, but no. I sing. Singer-songwriter, really but- I mean- I’m in music.”

“Really?” Eddie’s mouth was maybe hanging open a little wider than it needed to be, but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He hadn’t torn his eyes away. “I mean you have the voice for it, but shit, that’s not an easy industry to be in.”

Steve shrugged. “It could be worse. I work independently so I don’t have anyone breathing down my neck about it.”

“Anything I would have heard?”

“I dunno.” Steve blushed, hiding behind his wine glass as he took a sip. “Don’t really think it’s your type of music.”

“I’ll give anything a try once.”

Steve grinned a little and Eddie could tell there was a joke hidden in there somewhere that Steve graciously didn’t voice aloud. “It’s a mix of everything I suppose. But if you were to put a genre on it I’d call it indie rock.”

“I’m just letting you know right now, little eighteen year old Eddie is green with jealousy. I’ll have to look you up.”

“Please don’t.” Steve grimaced, his whole face bright red. “I don’t think I would be able to live with the embarrassment. And what about you, anyway? How’s the new book going?”

“Uh,” Eddie cast around for an answer before gulping back a mouthful of wine. “It’s going… it’s going. I’ve been kinda stuck at a wall for a few months now, but hopefully something will come to me soon.” He frowned to himself before looking back up at Steve. “How did you hear I was writing a new book? I wouldn’t have even thought you’d remember who I was, like in general.”

“How could I not remember you? You’re hard to forget.”

It was Eddie’s turn to hide behind his wine glass now. He wasn’t exactly sure how true that was, considering everything about his past relationship.

“But… uh. As for how I knew,” Steve rubbed that back of his neck, “I’ve read them. Your books, I mean.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“You have? And you read them knowing it was me who wrote them?” He laughed to himself. “Didn’t think you’d be into queer vampire action romance.”

“You have no idea what I’m into Eds.” Steve answered, his eyes low and lidded, a smirk pulling up at the side of his mouth.

Eddie was saved from making a further fool of himself when Robin and Chrissy appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Feast’s served!”

The girls each said their hello’s, an arm squeeze from Robin and a hug and a kiss on the cheek from Chrissy before he was practically pushed down into his seat.

The dining table was large enough to have everything on the table, turkey, ham and all the trimmings, bowls with spoons sticking out of them and plates with tongs, even enough space left over for candles and decor in the middle of it all.

As bowls were passed around and both Steve and Robin made the first move on the food, tipping servings out to Eddie and Chrissy before themselves, Eddie found himself getting lost in conversation from all three directions.

He gossiped with Chrissy while Steve and Robin bickered over the best cut of the turkey.

Throughout the dinner, Robin tried to sneakily get rid of her sprouts by dropping them one by one onto Steve’s plate when he wasn’t looking, but he noticed every time, savouring them with a satisfaction that could only come from someone who actually liked them.

He got into his own good natured argument with Robin about marching band while Steve and Chrissy talked sports.

And he flirted.

Brazenly.

Probably far more brazenly than he should have but Steve always rose to meet the challenge with a curl of his lip and a glint in his eye.

By the time dessert was making the rounds he was pretty sure he could have fallen asleep sitting at the dining table, but finding room for the cakes and pies and trifles, as always.

Steve had stopped drinking after that first glass and while Eddie didn’t exactly want to get completely plastered, he still allowed himself to get to a polite level of tipsy.

The girls had no such worries, already rosy cheeked and a little sloppy by the time the kids and Eddie’s band arrived.

The rest of the night was full of Christmas music, the most ridiculous games of charades which Eddie won every time, pulling on his old DM skills and after a passionate argument on what the worst Christmas movie was, the winning candidate was turned on, everyone laughing and jeering along with it like it was a Rocky Horror showing, Eddie pressed into Steve’s side on the couch.

It was during a particularly loud moment, all of them booing the screen when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.

Pulling it out he saw the screen light up with a name he hadn’t really thought of for most of the night.

Jack.

He stared down at the name for longer than he really needed to before sighing to himself.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

Steve glanced between the phone and his face before settling into a gentle smile.

“Okay.” He gave his shoulder a small squeeze and Eddie got up, bringing the phone to his ear and stepping out of the room.

“Hello?”

There was a momentary pause on the other line before a quiet voice spoke. “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to say back to him. Why are you calling? Why are you suddenly interested? Has the guilt finally gotten to you? Is it because it’s Christmas and you thought I’d be alone?

In the end he didn’t have to say anything.

“I’m just- I guess I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Jack sounded resigned and a little sad. If they had still been together, Eddie would have been trying to drag him out to the Christmas market or trivia nights or Christmas parties for the last few weeks and they would have been heading out in a day or two to spend the rest of the holidays with Jack’s family in Ohio. Jack had only come back with him for a Christmas with Wayne once before.

But it sounded like Jack was already with his family. Eddie could hear his mothers Michael Bublé Christmas album playing softly in another room.

“I’m doing…” Eddie sighed, leaning back against the wall. “I’m doing okay.”

A loud chorus of laughter burst through the sitting room, shouting and jeering following quickly behind.

“You’re out somewhere?”

Eddie glanced back through the door, watching everyone gathered either talking to each other, pointing in indignation at the tv, tucking into another serving of dessert or knocking back the last of their drink, all backlit by the Christmas lights and the fire.

“I’m with friends.”

“Good.” He could hear Jack nodding, wondering how he was handling his mothers questions or his fathers awkwardness that Eddie usually deflected for him. “That’s good. I’m glad you- I’m glad you’re not alone.”

No thanks to you, Eddie wanted to snap but kept it down. He didn’t have the energy for an argument right now. Didn’t want one. It was Christmas and he wanted to keep the comfortable, fuzzy feeling around for as long as he could.

Steve lifted his eyes, looking right at him and grinning, something soft, something warm and easy, just for him.

Eddie smiled back. “Yeah, me too.”

Steve drove him home that night. It was nearly two in the morning by the time he was bundled up in the car with a lap full of tupperware and his heart feeling lighter than it had for weeks now.

He’d been offered a room to stay in, but had refused. He didn’t want to impose any more than he already had and if he was honest with himself, he wanted to be at home.

Plus he hadn’t brought anything for an overnight.

When they pulled up, Eddie tried to shuffle his way out of the car without dropping anything but eventually had to huff and hand some of the containers over when Steve offered to help him carry them all.

They were inside before Eddie remembered his previous refusal to let Steve in through the door, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Steve gave a cursory glance around but his eyes always seemed to be drawn back to Eddie, placing the containers down on the kitchen counter and assuring him he’d be back in the morning to drive Eddie back to his car.

“I hope you had a good time.” Steve looked at him, all warm and gooey and too good to be true.

“I had a great time, I think I needed it.” Eddie fidgeted with his rings, nervous all of a sudden. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course. It was great to see you, I’m glad you came.”

They stood, staring at each other and Eddie had the urge to hide his face behind his hair, but he resisted.

Steve reached out, brushing a curl behind his ear and then leant in, placing a sweet and chaste kiss against his cheek and Eddie was left completely dazed.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathed, nodding. “Yeah, tomorrow.”

He watched Steve step out onto the porch and slide into his car, driving away with a little waggle of his fingers. Eddie unconsciously brought his hand up to brush over his cheek where he could still feel the tingle of Steve’s lips against his skin.

When the headlights of Steve’s car turned the corner, Eddie closed the door, staring at it in silence for a few moments before a hysterical little giggle burst out of his throat.

His whole body was wracked through with momentary excitement, forcing him to spin in a silly little circle. He stifled another giggle, sighing it out before his eyes landed on the couch.

He looked back up at a photo from a few years ago, of him and Wayne on a road trip that they had taken, sitting on a wooden fence surrounding a national park. Wayne always said it was just “One step at a time, boy. You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t take that first step.”

“Yeah, I hear you, Wayne.” Eddie responded out into the empty trailer. “First step.”

He looked up towards the bedroom.

He felt like, maybe tonight, maybe he could be comfortable with that first step.

Pulling a fresh set of bedsheets out of storage and turning back to the bed with them bundled up in his arms, he figured he’d just have to take it one step at a time.

I made a short playlist to go along with this fic containing the songs sung and the different versions mentioned along with one or two others I think they may have sung and my own favourites.

Some of you may have read I lost a family member a couple of weeks ago and I suppose this is my way of working through my feelings about it. It hit a little harder than I had intended but was healing to write nonetheless.

AO3

As always, my biggest thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the beta work with this and to the Stranger Things Writers Guild Discord for their motivation!

Christmas lights divider by @silkholland

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #fanfic #tw character death #tw funeral #tw grief #tw mourning #christmas fic

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chlobliviate · 2 months

Text

Wolfstar Microfic - Defeat

Words: 987

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It had been a bad moon on Saturday night. So bad that it was Monday morning and Remus was still in the hospital wing. Had he sulked a little when Madam Pomfrey told him he needed to stay Sunday night? Perhaps. Was he proud of it? Well, that was neither here nor there. Because it was Monday morning and he had Transfiguration.

“Minerva, will you talk some sense into him please?” He heard from behind the curtains before Professor McGonagall swept through them.

“Mr Lupin.” She nodded curtly.

“Professor McGonagall.” Her demeanour softened slightly.

“I hear that you want to go to class today. Is that correct?” Remus nodded, “And you recognise as well as Poppy and I do that you are in no fit state to do so?”

Remus frowned, “I can manage.”

“Mr Lupin.”

“Yes, I should probably be resting.” He did his best not to roll his eyes, reluctantly admitting defeat.

“I’m here to excuse you from classes for today, and to let you know that Mr— that Sirius has offered to take notes for you.” She looked at him with a new sparkle in her eyes, “I’m not sure how you have managed to convince him to undertake extra schoolwork, but… well done.”

Remus was so confused, “Thank you, Professor?”

“You should be able to head back to your dormitory mid-morning, and resume classes tomorrow. Make sure you rest well.” She turned and vanished through the curtains. He sighed and picked up the book Sirius had left beside his bed last night.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius had never cared about taking notes. Not even when they’d had that hot Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in fourth year. He wasn’t totally sure why he’d volunteered. McGonagall hadn’t even asked him. He’d offered. Actually, he did know why. He just didn’t really want to think about the implications.

So Sirius was going to take the best damn notes of his academic career, and he was going to colour code them, and if Remus just happened to appreciate them so much that he realised that he was madly in love with Sirius, then wouldn’t that be a lovely bonus?

James stared at him, “Why do you have four quills?”

“One for each colour.” He wrote the date at the top of the parchment.

“I’ll rephrase.” James sighed, “Are you ill?”

“No,” Sirius said in a hushed voice, “I’m taking notes for Moony, so shut up.”

James, who had been the victim of Sirius’ increasingly lovelorn monologues lately didn’t need to ask any further questions. He nodded and began writing on his own parchment.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

At the end of the day, Sirius’ hand ached. His right hand and wrist were covered in ink and he wasn’t convinced that the notes were any good, if he was honest. They were a lot messier than Remus’ were and had considerably more annotations and doodles. But, he reasoned, it was better to have slightly inadequate, doodly notes than no notes.

Remus was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for them to go down to dinner. He still looked pale and Sirius had a good mind to march him back to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey to bloody well do her job. But then Remus smiled at him, and he forgot why he was angry.

Sirius dropped his bag on his bed, fished out multiple pieces of parchment and proudly presented them to Remus. He looked down at them, and Sirius saw his eyes get wider the more he read.

“Pads, you really didn’t have to.” He said quietly. “Thank you.”

Sirius suddenly felt very exposed, “You’re welcome? Sorry they’re not as neat as yours would be but—”

“They’re perfect.” Remus cut him off, “The doodles really make…”

Sirius looked over to see what had Remus’ brow all cute and furrowed. Oh. Well, doodling hearts all over the Divination notes was maybe a little much, but it was the last class of the day, and he was tired, and in his defence, everything that he ‘saw’ during the lesson pointed to love… stuff. Maybe Remus would believe that if he was convincing enough and oh shit Remus had asked him a question and Sirius had caught none of it.

“Uh, sorry, I zoned out.” He felt his cheeks heating up. “What did you say?”

“I said you seemed to have a particularly amorous Divination lesson.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, seemed to be.” He looked down at the page, Oh that was a lot of hearts. “The fates don’t lie?”

“Riiight.” Remus looked at him suspiciously. “McGonagall seemed very concerned that you volunteered to actually do work.”

“I can imagine that would be a surprise for her.”

“Not just her.” Remus tilted his head as he looked up at Sirius. “You don’t even take your own notes.”

“I knew you’d be pissed off that you were missing precious learning time.” Sirius shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant way. “Thought I’d try and help.”

Remus was studying him in a way which made Sirius’ heart speed up significantly, “Well… I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Sirius gave him a small nod. “Anything, Moons.”

Remus set the parchment down on his bed and started to stand up, causing multiple concerning clicks, pops and crunches from his joints. Sirius was by his side in a moment and they were so close now. He allowed himself to just look at Remus, the deep green eyes, the scar that traversed his lower lip and jaw and if he just leaned in he could— And then his eyes flicked back up to Remus’. They were fixed on his.

Of course, James chose that moment to crash into the dorm, grumbling about Slughorn.

“Get out,” Remus said.

“What’s— Are you—”

“James, get out!” He didn’t take his eyes off Sirius as James threw his bag towards his bed and huffed out of the room.

#fanfic #ao3 #wolfstar #fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #wolfstar microfic #marauders #remus loves sirius #werewolf remus lupin #sirius loves remus #sirius x remus

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weirdsillycreature · 5 months

Note

“Oh, there you are… you are Hunter correct…?”

Mr. O suspends Hunters friends in the air. Both of them have succumbed to unconsciousness.

“These are your friends I see…”

Mr. O chuckles as he continues to stare at Hunter showing off his bright blue hypnotic eyes.

“They could be something better… do you want me to show you... what I could do?”

(Time to put loyalty to the test✨✨👀)

(Also the OC here is Mr. O, aka a man with tentacles for legs and has hypnotic pupils. Also a freak when it comes to animals and nature in general. Also let’s make sure Hunter doesn’t stare too deeply into his eyes… I also forgot to mention that his tentacles naturally put the person into a sleepiness or unconsciousness. :>)

(In other words he’s a hybrid of a human and an octopus🐙)

Wow

It's very rare and dangerous to see Hunter angry like that D:

#incredibox #oc #original character #orin ayo #tragibox #oc art #orin ayo oc #art

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delioncourtes · 1 year

Text

✨ GOMENS FIC RECS ✨

i asked for people's favorite fics and sharing is caring :)

(i included my own recs as well)

feel free to reblog and add more!

❤️ recommended by @oldzhishen ❤️

Crown of Thorns series by irisbleufic (rating G-E)

This series was never intended to be a series as such: I wrote "A Better Place" in the wake of rather accidentally getting to ask a certain question (What are Aziraphale and Crowley doing on the South Downs, anyway?) of both authors within a week of each other back in 2005 and actually getting an answer (Sharing a cottage), thinking it'd just be a happy little one-off. But something curious happened when my Good Omens Exchange 2010 assignment resulted in "The Walls, the Wainscot, and the Mouse." From that point onward, interest in this little 'verse slowly, but steadily picked up momentum, and I kept finding more stories to tell. Some of the characters that appear herein (Phillippa [Pippa] Morrison, the Mouse, Amanda [Mandy] Tomlin, Uriel, Raphael, et al.) first turned up in my one and only attempt at a second-Apocalypse dark mirror universe, A Crown of Stars (AO3 posting of same) and its follow-ups, which predates this series considerably. The two universes parallel each other, but this one is, for our purposes, post novel-canon and set in our reality. That's pretty much what you need to know. Thank you all for continuing to read and also for giving this project life. I'll continue to add stories and ficlets until I run out of ideas or until my heart stops (whichever comes first)! The current existing pieces are complete; the series overall is ongoing on an as-and-when basis, which means that the time between additions may be weeks or months or, in rare instances, up to a year.

Madman and a Fool by loserchildhotpants (rating E)

God considers Crowley's unyielding pining for Aziraphale, his acts during the End of the World, and his very genuine desire to protect Aziraphale, worth rewarding. She can't make him an Angel again, but She can nudge Aziraphale in the right direction. If nothing else, She'd really just like Crowley to stop using Her prayer inbox for endless soliloquies about Aziraphale.

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm (rating T)

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following: --His clothing was expensive and stylish; --He wore very strange but noticeable cologne; --His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;” --He looked angry; --He was wearing sunglasses. What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

A Home at the Beginning of the World by stereobone (rating E)

"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

For the Angel Who Has Everything by triedunture (rating E)

Crowley likes giving Aziraphale things. Whatever he wants, actually. Which, happily, includes Crowley himself, as it turns out.

I'm the treasure baby, I'm the prize by stereobone (rating E)

"Are you working for Mrs. Sandwich?" Nina asks. "No," Crowley says. "Well, yes. Well, define 'working'." -- Or, Crowley is very good at faking sex work, as it turns out.

🧡 recommended by @reloha 🧡

let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster) by thehoyden (rating T)

Aziraphale saw him sometimes in all-staff meetings, sitting toward the front but off to the side, lounging against a wall. Even then, he’d had style—wings tipped in gold and face painted with gold flakes in the pattern of the first constellation he designed. He was amazing, and eye-catching, and it was no exaggeration to say that he did not know Aziraphale even existed.

You'll Find Something Waiting (Right There Where You Left It) by PrimalBeatsOurHearts (rating T)

"Lets go in the Garden, "You'll find something waiting" "Right there where you left it" "Lying upside down" ------------ Or What if Crowley was Erased from The Book Of Life?

Moving Forward While Standing Still by Justanothernerdsstuff (rating G)

“Uh, yeah, sure! Thanks,” They replied and walked away, not sure why this specific book was so important to the angry man, but they were £50 richer, so they didn’t really care. Crowley flipped through the book, stalling making the decision to go into the bookshop to confront Muriel. He turned to walk away, stopped, groaned, and stalked his way into the bookshop. *** Crowley finds himself at Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death a month after Aziraphale left to run Heaven, and ends up back at the bookshop, something he never planned to do again.

7 minutes in heaven by waddlesthejoghog (rating T)

"If Crowley and Aziraphale couldn’t figure it out, Muriel would have to take a different approach. It wasn’t enough to put them in the same location. They had to plant some seeds of conversation. They had to come to a conclusion naturally, but with a push." OR Muriel reads every book in the shop, then comes up with a plan to get Aziraphale and Crowley back together.

In the Pocket of the Universe by indieninja92 (rating E)

Immediately after the church scene (and The Slow Zoom of Homosexual Panic), Aziraphale takes Crowley out for dinner in the only place still open in the middle of an air raid. Feelings closely follow.

How to Run a Bookshop by IneffableDoll (rating T)

Muriel has been running Aziraphale’s bookshop ever since his promotion Upward. Mr. Crowley seems intent on sticking around, and Muriel has no idea what to do about that. Then, Muriel stumbles upon a collection of sketchbooks full of a familiar redhead. Did…Aziraphale draw these? Has Mr. Crowley seen them? * (“No. No. Put that back.” “Oh, but isn’t it cute? A little cup with wings! I don’t suppose it can fly like those birds can? I don’t see what a cup needs wings for, really.” “You can’t use that.” “Of course not! These wings are too small for me, and I have my own if I want to get around.” “Wh – okay, first off, you can’t go flying about London. You’ll freak people out, cause a bunch of chaos – actually, you know what, do what you like. Heaven if I care. But don’t touch that mug.” “Is it dangerous?” “…No. But it’s not yours. And it’s not polite to use something that’s not yours. Not very angelic of you.” “Oh! Of course. I knew that.”)

💛 recommended by @cheeekycharchar 💛

Together We're Golden series by Guardian_Rose (rating G-T)

Crowley & Aziraphale move to a small town, into their own little cottage but it's not without its difficulties.

True Disaster by NuriaSchnee (rating E)

After Crowley saves him in 1941, Aziraphale realises he's fallen in love with the demon. Scared this dangerous feeling of his will cause problems to his friend, he tries to break their relationship. However, his plan to push the demon away fails and they end up admitting their feelings to each other. To be able to be together and keep it a secret, Crowley stops time every time they meet. However brilliant this seems at first, it doesn't take long to backfire, opening new wounds and raising more barriers between them.

Nanny Knows Best by DictionaryWrites (rating M)

Being a nanny, that should be simple. Simple. Easy as pie. Crowley wished that were true.

💚 recommended by yours truly 💚

Strange Moons series by racketghost (rating G-E)

“At least they were together for a time,” Crowley says, staring at the lit end of his cigarette, “maybe that’s enough.”

tales from a bookshop by Rizandace (rating T)

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around. ----- "You're being ridiculous." Crowley very nearly falls over. Like, actually. He very nearly loses balance for no reason at all and tumbles to the sidewalk next to his car. He’s been playing Aziraphale’s voice in his head for weeks, he’s been trying very hard to drown out the sound of it, in fact, and now suddenly, abruptly— “What are you doing here,” is all he can think to say. He whirls around, and there he is. on Crowley’s right, standing there like he’d never left. Where he belongs, Crowley’s mind helpfully supplies. He wishes he could punch himself in the brain, knock the thoughts right on out of there.

Meanwhile the World Goes On by lineslines (rating G)

Crowley looked at him. He was still wearing his suit, there was tartan in it, but it had become polished, the worn edges returned to pristine, boring perfection. He looked prim. Proper. Perhaps this hurt most of all. (Crowley is on earth, Aziraphale is not. Meanwhile the world goes on. Plans, great and possibly ineffable, are set into motion. They are--always, inevitably--drawn back together. Long before reconciliation, long before they can bear it. The only thing they can bear less is staying apart. Oh, and Heaven seems to have misplaced Jesus.)

So You Need To Get Into A.Z. Fell & Co.; Now What? (A Guide For Unfortunate Bookworms) by c4llistrad (rating G)

London’s antique enthusiasts and rare lit nerds alike know that if you’re looking for a specific vintage or antique book, you have a good chance of ending up in A.Z. Fell & Co. as a last resort. And if you’ve ever been in (or are currently in) this predicament, you know how much of an absolute nightmare it is trying to even get in the door. Luckily, this handy guide, the fruit of a months-long collaborative effort to create the perfect formula for gaming the A.Z. Fell system, will tell you everything you need to know, complete with a comprehensive breakdown of what, exactly, the opening hours are. Compiled by pageknight and inky of the Rare Antique Forums.

Like Icarus Before Me by Arokel (rating T)

If Aziraphale were a Good person, a virtuous person, he wouldn’t have taken Crowley’s hand at all. Aziraphale muses on the nature of Goodness, and finally shares those musings with Crowley.

It's Something Like a Corkscrew by Arokel (rating G)

“How do you live with this… this inevitability? This knowledge of what’s to come?”

So let us melt by Arokel (rating G)

Of the two of them, Crowley thinks Aziraphale has held on to more of his faculties than Crowley has, but then again, he is putting off angelic heat like a particularly virtuous furnace.

So Much to be Consoled as to Console by Arokel (rating T)

“What are you,” Crowley drawled, “the patron saint of queer kids?” A series of lost souls over the centuries who prayed, whether they knew it or not, to the Angel Aziraphale.

Factory Settings by Anonymous (rating T)

Crowley gets reinstated as an angel.

such surpassing brightness by bibliocratic (rating G)

The revelation that Aziraphale might have been in love with him for thousands of years is surprising. The fact that literal books have been written on the subject comes as even more of a shock.

knowing this will I reach for you by Aria (rating E)

It wasn't as though his interest in Aziraphale was entirely appropriate. Of course it wasn't bloody appropriate. He was consorting with the Enemy, nothing about it was appropriate.

The Sandford Flower Show by Mussimm (rating E)

Crowley had waited six thousand years, kept it all in check. But this was the slipperiest slope he’d ever set foot on and as soon as he’d indulged in a few discretionary acts of kindness he was falling face first into pining, tumbling into flirting, about to dislocate his knees on the sharp rocks of intimacy. Was this really it? What he had waited six thousand years for? A stupid flower show? Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away from him. Maybe… maybe this time he wouldn’t? Maybe they’d hold hands again. Maybe tonight with a bottle of merlot in them he’d finally work up the courage and just kiss him and he wouldn’t pull away. The very moment he’d thought it he spotted the problem at the flower show.

you knew my name on sight by brinnanza (rating G)

“This wasn’t me, you know,” Crowley says, the words out of his mouth before he’s made the conscious choice to utter them. “Not just the library, but the whole civil war. You know me; I’ve mostly been getting drunk at Bacchanals.” “I know,” says Aziraphale.

The Longest Night series by charlottemadison (rating T-E)

The night the Apocalypse doesn't happen, an angel and a demon share a bus bench on the way home to face their fates. This is the story of their evening spun out line by line, all the little moments that carried them through the night they knew might be their last.

Witness the Fall by Waifine (rating G)

Crowley never talked about his time as an angel. Aziraphale never asked. But when Hell sends Crowley a package containing his most painful memories, it is Aziraphale who is plunged into the nightmare history of when his beloved friend, the angel who had once been Crowley, was hurled from the Heavens into the bowels of Hell.

An Angel who did not so much Fall In Love as Settle Into It Gradually by TheLadyZephyr (rating G)

Crowley was standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, looking a little lost. Aziraphale eyed the distance between them. Five steps. Five steps, and six thousand years, and a battlefield spanning an eternity. The story of the little moments over the millennia that shape an angel’s regard for a demon, and the way he slowly, with great reluctance but inevitable surety, falls in love.

This Soul Outstreaming by Rend_Herring (rating E)

“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault. Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap. When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks. Aziraphale, unnaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.

a lighthouse (burning) by books-and-omens (rating M)

In good weather, one can see the lighthouse at the Rock from the shore: a dot on the horizon, a distant star flashing red and white and red again. It’s been dark for a fortnight, of course—ever since the incident that every newspaper had breathlessly written about, that the paper-boys on the corners had shouted themselves hoarse over. This is where Aziraphale is headed: it is his duty, after all, to find out what happened, to make sure that the beacon can be safely lit once again. He does not expect Crowley to follow him to the windswept isle, to the lonely lighthouse at what could just as well be the edge of the world. Crowley follows him anyway.

paint the skies by ToEdenandBackAgain (rating G)

“This was one of yours, wasn’t it?” Aziraphale remarks casually, and Crowley feels like the warmth of the room has been sucked into space. A cold, uneasy feeling begins to creep into his gut. One of yours thrown out so casually. One of yours said like he... like he knew “What.”

Good Endings by WyvernQuill (rating T)

A Narrative of Certain Events following the Ending of the World (Except Not Quite), as vaguely hinted at in The Slapdash and Not Very Helpful Prophetic Tidbit of Agnes Nutter, Witch (And Matchmaker.) "Their lives are in horrible, terrible danger that only we can save them from!" Anathema held up the Prophetic Tidbit. "It says so. Right here." Madame Tracy peered at the page. Raised a meaningful eyebrow. "Dearie, as a woman of, well, considerable experience, I really don't think that's what 'the lyttle Deathe' means in this context..." "Huh." Anathema squinted. Flipped the page. Read another bit. "....huh." (Or, alternatively: Eight - give or take - matchmakers trying really, really hard, honest; two clueless ethereal/occult beings mutually pining their endless days away; and one witch, who can't leave well enough alone when it comes to matters of the heart, no matter how many centuries ago she died.)

If We've Got Nothing (We've Got Us) by Kedreeva (rating G)

Two months after the failed apocalypse Aziraphale finds the first dark feather growing in his wings. A story about middle grounds, ineffable plans, and what happens when the world doesn't end.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (rating M)

Aziraphale returns to Crowley's flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it's hardly the first time they've shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

💙 recommended by @vonlipwig 💙

Petrichor & Parchment by MrsNoggin (rating E)

“Mr. Crowley, I presume?” Aziraphale asked in lieu of an introduction, which was not forthcoming. The guy hadn’t even removed his sunglasses. Oh God, he had a tattoo on his face. Aziraphale wasn’t one to judge, but… what kind of gardener had a snake tattoo on his face?

💜 recommended by @darthbreezy 💜

post-professional endeavours by darcylindbergh (rating T)

Retirement is a four-letter word.

💗 recommended by @thegeekyartist 💗

Fire, Bridges, and other Sensible Idioms by KiaraMGrey (rating E)

To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash your own… You are an arsehole! Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow. If you have any problems with this, come see me in 301. or Aziraphale has a new neighbor, and they certainly don't start off on the right foot.

❤️ recommended by @weiwnxian ❤️

Any Other Name by mostlyanything19 (rating T)

“The Angel of the Eastern Gate.” Crawly grins. “What’s your name, anyway? You never said.” “Oh...” Apologies, Aziraphael almost says, but then he doesn’t. That would be taking things a bit too far. This is still the Enemy. “Aziraphael.” “Aziraphael,” repeats Crawly—or tries to, because halfway through the word he chokes. Quite badly. Or: What if Aziraphale’s name was originally "Aziraphael", in keeping with the conventional spelling and pronunciation of angel names, but because of its divine nature Crowley is physically unable to say it out loud.

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