#as always: please leave comments in the tags or my inbox!!! it makes me all squirmy. pressing my thighs together and shit

[bittsandpieces]

struck by cupid's arrow (penetrated, you could say)

[hederasgarden]

On the Horizon (2/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.  Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 4.3K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst and asshole!Scott who brings a side of gaslighting. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged.   A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxheart @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my www inbox. That always makes my day.

Part 1 ♡ Masterlist

The sound of the rickety old air conditioning unit sputtering to life jolts you awake. You roll over with a groan, throwing an arm over your face to shield yourself from the sunlight trickling in through a gap in the curtains. It takes you a long moment to realize the other side of the bed is empty and cold. When you do, the remnants of sleep scatter, a wave of awareness washing over you.

You tuck your chin against your chest and pull the scratchy sheets closer to your naked body. The old clock on the bedside table stares back at you as you struggle to ignore the hollow ache in your stomach. You didn’t expect Scott to stay the night. Both of you knew it wouldn’t be smart, though it still stings, just like it did the first time. But that was Scott, you remind yourself, always thinking two steps ahead, anticipating and reacting. Whatever you two had needed to remain a secret. As he reminded you last night, when it came to sleeping with a coworker, people were always harsher on the woman. It was better this way. Wasn’t it?

You close your eyes and draw in a pained breath, catching the faint, musky scent of Scott’s cologne that still lingers in the sheets. The smell brings a rush of memories from the night before, vivid and overwhelming, like a sense memory that refuses to fade. The way his long, thick fingers curled inside you. The sound of his shuddering breath when he came. 

Your phone buzzes, and you jerk upright, expecting or perhaps hoping to see Scott’s name. Instead, it's Andy letting you know he’s grabbing coffee for everyone. You thank him and, without giving yourself a chance to second-guess yourself, shoot off a message to Scott. You watch as the status changes from “Delivered,” to “Read at 7:22 AM.” You wait for a reply but minutes tick by without an answer.

Eventually, you force yourself out of bed and prepare for the day, but as you move through your routine, your mind keeps drifting back to the unanswered message. It’s after 8 a.m. by the time you leave the hotel room with your duffle bag in hand. Outside, the parking lot is full of other storm chasers who mill around quietly, their mood more subdued than last night.

You find Scott with a clipboard in hand, talking with Javi. He spares you a glance but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge you. It’s not personal, you remind yourself, feeling better when you remember you're both assigned to Scarecrow. You’ll have a chance to talk with him then without having to worry about anyone overhearing you. 

On the way to the car, you catch up with Andy, looking dubiously at the greyish cup of gas station coffee he hands you. It's been weeks since you had a decent cup. You're half-busy lamenting the absence of Starbucks when a sharp whistle catches your attention. It's Tyler, and he’s giving you a curious look, raising his chin in Scott's direction. 

You know what he's asking. You should give him a thumbs-up so he knows the ploy worked, but before you can a sharp, unexpected wave of shame crawls up your throat. Tyler wrinkles his brow, hands on his hips. When he takes a step forward you turn away without answering him. You head for your assigned car, only to stop abruptly when you see Peter, one of the meteorologists, sitting in the passenger seat with the door ajar.

“Morning. I think you might be in the wrong car,” you say. 

“Hey,” Peter greets, looking up from his computer. “Scott changed the rotation. You’re riding with Javi. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Oh.” You stare at your coworker unblinking, for a long moment. It was probably an oversight. Scott was so busy. "O-of course he did, I must have forgotten," you lie, forcing yourself to chuckle. “Lack of sleep,” you explain.

“Tell me about it. These motel beds are killing my back.”

“For sure,” you agree, offering him a wave and promising to catch up with him later. The second you turn away, your eyes sting and you brush at them angrily. Why are you crying? It’s not even a big deal. You liked riding with Javi, everyone did even though he was the boss. 

You head in the opposite direction of the others, unsure of where you’re going. All you know is that you need to move to dislodge the pressure in your chest. It’s only when you reach the edge of the motel’s property, standing at the boundary of the farm next door, that you finally stop. You drop your bag, sending up a small cloud of dust, and press a hand to your mouth as you stare across the field of knee-high corn. This was all so stupid, a childish overreaction. There’d be time to talk with Scott tonight again. You were getting upset over nothing.

You have only a few precious seconds to collect yourself before you hear footsteps approaching. Quickly, you scrub your hands over your eyes, trying to dry the tears as best as you can. It doesn’t matter who it is; you just don’t want to be seen like this.

“You know, sweetheart,” Tyler begins, his southern drawl softening the endearment, “I’m not used to chasing after a woman.” 

He stops a few feet away, his gaze fixed steadily on the horizon. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, his cowboy hat shading his expression from view. He's not exactly who you want to talk to at the moment but it was better than someone from your team. 

“Well," you start, clearing your throat to dislodge the unwanted emotion from your voice. "You’re welcome for the unique experience, I guess."

He turns to face you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. You’ve amused him.  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he says, clearly waiting for you to elaborate.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Scott spent the night and that was what you wanted so why didn’t it feel that way? 

“Ah, he shit the bed, huh?” Tyler asks, understandingly. Your nose wrinkles at the euphemism and this time he laughs. “Well, we can always try again tonight.”

You realize then that Tyler thinks nothing happened between you and Scott last night. You should set him straight, but instead, you find yourself saying, “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Come on now. We both know everyone here is heading up to Bartlesville. The conditions look promising.” 

“What do you have planned to help me?”

Tyler tilts his cowboy hat up with a finger, stepping close enough that you find yourself beneath its brim. You look up at him and notice, for the first time, the dark stubble along his jaw and the dimples that appear when he smiles. You’ve always known he was handsome — everyone knew it, mostly because that was all Peter talked about after enough beers. But right now, it feels like you’re seeing Tyler Owens for the first time.

“You leave that up to me. Just be ready by 7 p.m. Wear that dress from last night.”

He steps away and you feel like you can breathe again. “Okay.” You agree.

“Okay?” he questions. “They don’t teach you manners up north?” He teases.

His comment catches you off guard and startles a genuine laugh from you, the first one you’ve had in a while, you realize. “Thank you,” you reply sincerely. 

Just like last night, Tyler taps your nose playfully and steps back. “7 p.m.,” he reminds you before he turns and heads off.

You don’t even notice it until you’re back at the truck, but the pressure in your chest that’s been weighing on you all morning is gone.

–

Riding to Bartlesville with Javi isn’t half bad, he’s more than willing to share the endless supply of snacks he’s got stashed all over the vehicle. You rummage through the glovebox, pushing away a questionable-looking melted bar of chocolate for a package of Skittles.

“So, you gonna tell me what last night was all about?” He asks.

You freeze, anxiety skittering up your spine. Does he know about you and Scott?

“Javi, I —”

“Tyler Owens?” he presses. “I saw you with his crew last night, and Scott mentioned he was bothering you this morning.”

At the mention of Scott’s name, there’s a familiar, painful tug in your chest. You ignore it, just like you do with the knowledge that Scott saw you and Tyler together. You don’t want to think about him right now.

“Are you asking as my friend or as my boss?” You question, propping your foot on the dashboard and tossing a Skittle into your mouth.  

“As your friend I want to make sure you’re being safe. And as your boss, I wanna know why you’re spending time with the competition,” he says. “Also, take your damn foot off the dash.”

You flash him a grin and place your other foot beside the first. Javi sighs in annoyance but extends his hand, waving his fingers expectantly. You sift through the bag and hand him the green Skittles. Despite the years that have passed from when he was a fresh-faced Corporal with a buzzcut and you were a civilian contractor feeling way out of your depth, you appreciate this part of your relationship remains unchanged.

“He was looking for some contouring tips.” You joke, earning another look. “He wanted to know where we were headed next,” you tell him, surprising yourself with how easy the lie comes to you.”Don’t worry, I told him we were going to Broken Bow.”

“He’s gonna meet us in Bartlesville, isn’t he?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree, rummaging through the Skittles bag to find another handful of green ones. “Does he really bother you that much?”

Javi shrugs, his expression thoughtful as he takes the Skittles from you. “He’s annoying and disruptive, but…not really, I guess. We’re still getting good data when he isn’t shooting fireworks into tornadoes.”

You laugh. “Peter loved that. He kept showing clips to everyone. I think it was the highlight of his week.”

“Yeah, how about you? You like Tyler Owens, too?”

You raise an eyebrow, a touch of exasperation in your voice. “Javi…”

“What?” he asks innocently, his gaze meeting yours. “It’s just a question.”

“Okay, if we’re just asking questions, how’s Kate doing?”

Javi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he avoids your eyes. “You really shouldn’t be asking your boss personal questions like that.”

“Mmmm, okay,” you reply.

For as long as you’ve known Javi, Kate’s been a topic of conversation. It wasn’t until recently that he reconnected with her, though, flying off to New York to recruit her for the team. She turned him down but texted him sporadically. It was clear to you he was painfully in love with her.

“We’re texting again,” Javi admits finally. "And she agreed to go to dinner when I'm in New York again next week," he reveals with a smile. 

“Look at you go,” you encourage. 

“Don’t make it a big deal,” he says, reaching over to fiddle with the radio. 

Static bursts through a second later before it’s replaced by a soft, crooning voice. You settle back in your seat when you sense Javi’s done talking about the Kate situation. Based on the radar, you know it’s best to catch some sleep while you can. You close your eyes and tilt your head towards the sunlight streaming through the side window, letting the warmth wash over you. Tension drains from your body as you drift off to sleep, listening to Javi sing off-tune to the radio.  

–

At exactly 7 p.m., there’s a knock on your door. You open it to see Tyler standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, cowboy hat tipped low. He’s wearing a pearl snap shirt and sporting an impressively large belt buckle.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Tyler reminds you with a smirk. Your cheeks heat as you meet his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It says ‘Tornado Wrangler.’ Just in case you were too distracted to read it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, though your tone lacks any real bite.

“But I do love a little flattery,” Tyler counters, extending his arm toward you. 

After a moment of hesitation, you slip your hand around his bicep, allowing yourself to be guided along. The parking lot is quiet. It seems that the weekend storm chasers have all gone home. There’s only one solitary figure in the distance, their cigarette glowing briefly with an orange flare in the darkness. Most of the motel rooms you pass are dark and you wonder if everyone on your team has gone to the bar Peter suggested in the group text. 

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Only the finest establishment Bartlesville has to offer,” he replies.

“So the bar everyone else is headed to.”

“You city girls,” he says with a shake of his head. “Come on now,” he encourages, pulling you with him as he sprints across the road to another parking lot that’s crowded and brightly lit. 

The neon letters flashing above the entrance proclaim that you've arrived at Cowboys’ Dancehall. As you and Tyler approach, you both hand over your IDs to the bouncer stationed outside. He scrutinizes the out-of-state licenses for a long moment before waving you on. 

Inside, it’s loud and dimly lit. Couples spin around the dance floor to a fast-paced country song. The bar is crowded, but Tyler cuts through the throng of people with ease, keeping you beside him with a hand at your hip until you reach the old wooden bar. When he leans in to speak to the bartender his chest brushes your back.

“I’ll take a Bud Light, and the lady will have a rosé,” he tells her, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the music.

The bartender, an older woman with deep lines etched into her face, stares at Tyler before she pops the caps off two Bud Lights and slides them across the bar. “That’ll be $7 even,” she announces.

You press your hand to your mouth, stifling a laugh at the exchange.

“Well alright,” Tyler says, reaching for his wallet.

“I can pay for myself,” you insist, digging through your purse but he’s faster, dropping $10 on the counter. 

“A fake date is still a date.” He tells you. 

You’re relieved to escape the crush of the crowded bar as you make your way past the dance floor toward the quieter back area where tables are scattered. Peter spots you first, his face lighting up when he waves you over enthusiastically. You’re taken aback to see most of your coworkers seated at a table with Tyler’s crew. Boone greets you with a lopsided salute, while Lily gives you a fist bump. Tyler pulls out a chair for you, and you take a seat, distracted as you search the room for a familiar face.

“Don’t worry,” Peter half shouts to you over the table. “Javi and Scott are meeting with that investor guy.”

“Oh,” you respond, nodding and wondering just how often your coworkers hung out with Tyler’s team in Scott and Javi’s absence.

You were never one to go out with them before, preferring to wind down alone with a good book or movie. It’s clear that this isn’t the first time they’ve gathered like this; everyone seems pretty comfortable together. Tyler, in particular, is completely unfazed to find his crew mingling with Storm Par.

“You’re not going to rat us out to Scott are you?” Daniel asks nervously.

“City girl wouldn’t do that,” Tyler says confidently, resting an arm over the back of your chair. “Would you?” he asks.

He leans in slightly, his thumb brushing gently against your bare shoulder. The unexpectedly intimate touch startles you, and it takes a moment for you to regain your composure. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise, offering Daniel a reassuring smile.

He seems to accept your words and you settle back into your chair, letting the conversation of the table wash over you. Sipping your beer, you occasionally glance toward the door. There’s no sign of Scott and you’re left wondering about Tyler’s plan. Everyone else seems confident he and Javi won’t make an appearance tonight. 

“Alright, enough sitting. Let’s dance,” Tyler announces, offering you his hand. 

You nearly choke on your beer. “Dance?” you repeat, waving him off. “No one mentioned anything about dancing.”

“I can’t have you leaving Oklahoma without learning how to two-step.”

“How do you know I haven’t?” you challenge.

“I get the impression you don’t let yourself have a lot of fun,” Tyler replies quietly. The softness of his eyes and the utter sincerity in his voice make it hard to hold his gaze. It’s unsettling how clearly he seems to see through you. 

“Come on,” he says, offering you his hand. “It’ll be fun.”

You glance at the door again before letting Tyler guide you toward the dance floor. The beat of the song is fast and you watch how effortlessly the other couples move, their steps fluid and graceful. Tyler takes your right hand and wraps his left arm around you, his palm resting firmly on your shoulder blade, drawing you close. After a moment’s hesitation, you place your left arm on his bicep. He feels warm and strong against you.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You say, feeling silly and out of place. 

“Nothing to it. All you gotta do is follow, I’ll lead,” Tyler promises, surging forward and taking you with him. 

You stumble a little, but Tyler’s quick to adjust his pace for you. He keeps you to the outside of the dance floor, guiding you through the moves. You watch his feet, trying to coordinate your own, but you end up stepping on his toes more than a few times. He doesn’t seem to mind, gently correcting you. It feels like you have two left feet and your anxiety flares in response.

“Look up here,” Tyler says, waiting patiently until you meet his gaze before continuing. “Don’t overthink it — just feel it”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you mutter. 

“So let’s keep that big brain busy. Tell me about yourself. Did you go to a fancy school like MIT too?” He asks, his tone playful.

“Uh. No,” you say, glancing down only to have him tap your shoulder. You look up again. “I went to a state school.”

“So did I,” he reveals. “Though it was just for meteorology and atmospheric science.”

“You did?”

“Hey, no need to sound so surprised,” he replies, feigning mock hurt.

“A cowboy and a scholar,” you tease.

“Don’t forget a pretty great dancer, too,” he adds, lifting his arm to twirl you around before pulling you back into his embrace. When he does it again, a breathless laugh escapes you.

“Atta girl,” Tyler says, pulling you even closer. “Now we’re having fun.”

Your skin tingles and you feel warm all over. The world narrows to Tyler’s handsome face, his green eyes deep and captivating in the dim light. Your chest tightens, only allowing you to pull in shallow breaths that leave you lightheaded. In that moment, you realize you haven’t stumbled once — you’re moving perfectly in sync with him.

“One more dance?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you agree.

The current song fades into something softer and more subdued. The crowd begins to thin, but Tyler doesn’t seem deterred by the change. He lowers his hand to the small of your back, holding you close as he guides you in a slow, graceful sweep across the floor. Despite the smoky bar and the crowd of people, all you smell is Tyler's clean, crisp scent. It reminds you of the first storm of the season, the air electric and charged with energy. Full of potential. 

Tyler stares steadily at you as he continues to move you across the floor, and you find yourself unable to look away from him. The music seems to fade, leaving only the sound of his breathing and your own. Your lashes flutter and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to simply feel — weightless and free. 

It’s only when someone else bumps into you that your eyes snap open and reality comes rushing back. You stumble, but Tyler catches you, pulling you gently to the side.

“Doing alright?” He questions.

You nod, feeling strangely shaky. “I think I need some water.”

Hand still in yours, Tyler tugs you along until he reaches the end of the bar, where a large water jug sits. He hands you a cup, and you drink deeply, surveying the crowded bar. It takes you a while to realize you’re just taking in the sights and sounds, and you haven't thought about Scott at all.

“Our beers are probably warm by now. You want another?” He asks. 

“I shouldn’t.”

He smiles and pulls out his phone, opening the weather app. The screen shows a mess of red and yellow just south of you. “You’re probably right,” he admits.

You both head back to the table, where Boone groans at Tyler’s announcement that his crew should return to the motel after finishing their drinks. Your coworkers seem to agree, with some heading to the bar to settle their tabs.

“I’ll walk you back.” Tyler offers.

Outside, the moon is obscured by thick clouds and it feels cooler than when you first arrived. Your eyes roam the parking lot, catching sight of Scarecrow. Scott and Javi must be back from their meeting. A pang of disappointment hits you. You’d hoped Scott would have seen you with Tyler again. 

“Well…this is you,” Tyler says, stopping in front of your hotel room. “Not a bad night.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But Scott didn’t show up.”

Tyler presses his lips together, his gaze falling away to look at something past you. His nostrils flare and then his eyes return to you, but the tension in his jaw remains.

"You had fun, didn't you?" He prods.

Even if tonight hadn't gone the way you wanted it to, you have to admit he was right. You had fun. 

"I did,” you say, offering him a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Well, then, it wasn’t a total loss. You had a good time,” he says, his tone warm. To your surprise, he leans in, removing his cowboy hat and holding it level with your face, effectively blocking your view to the left. His hand settles lightly on your hip. “Looks like we’ve got an audience — tall, dark, and a total dipshit.”

You stare up at him, your whole body tingling. “Scott?” You whisper.

“Mmmhmm,” Tyler returns. “Now if you're asking for my advice, I'd let him stew a bit. A man should have to work for you. Put in some effort.”

You nod, and Tyler steps back, pulling his hat on. When you finally look to the left the walkway is deserted, bathed in the dim light filtering through the curtains of the neighboring rooms. Tyler insists on waiting until you're safely inside, and you watch him linger by the door for another minute before he finally turns to leave.

With a sigh, you sit on the bed and slip off your shoes, feeling strangely adrift and unsure. Your text to Scott from this morning remains unanswered and you have no idea if what you’re doing with Tyler is going to help the way you want it to. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to clear your mind. 

Lost in your thoughts, you nearly miss the soft knock at the door. You crack it open, looking up at Scott. His dark hair is damp, curling over his forehead. He smiles at you and your heart flutters in response. You almost invite him in on instinct, but Tyler’s earlier remarks rise to the surface.

“What?” Scott asks.

You straighten your shoulders, gathering the courage for what you want to ask. “Why didn’t you respond to my text message?”

His brow furrows, like he has zero idea what you’re talking about.

“I sent you a text this morning,” you clarify. 

“We’re not supposed to text and drive in a company vehicle, you know that.” 

His response immediately makes you feel silly because of course that made sense. Just last week Javi got on Daniel about texting and driving. 

“Are you really going to make me stand out here?” He asks, quickly looking down the hall. He was probably worried someone would see the two of you. 

“Of course not.” You step back to let him inside, chewing on the inside of your lip. “I just…why did you have me move cars?” 

Scott presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and exhales loudly. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a step back, but he follows you.

“You’ve ridden with me the last two days,” he says quietly. One of his large hands cups your jaw. “I can’t have people accusing me of favoritism, can I?” 

You shake your head, frowning. He’s too close, his aftershave nearly overpowering. You need some space. 

“Scott, I —” Whatever you were about to say is cut off as both your phones suddenly buzz, and outside you hear the all too familiar wail of the tornado siren.

♡

I no longer have a tag list, please follow @hg-library and turn on notifications.

[httpsserene]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 - 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 | 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐏𝐍𝐅 |

𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

summary: if you love her, you have to let her go. who the hell came up with that? content warning: vacation romance. profanity. a couple of suggestive lines. one line of dark humor (toaster bath). fluff and angst. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. hard launch (but sad). emotional support esteban ocon (shrugs). heartbreak. this might count as getting together/breaking up. pairing: lance stroll x fem!black!reader

from serene: i feel like i have to reiterate that this does have a happy ending (in the next part). i think my tags are over dramatic asl but, i’m not trying to getting jumped in my inbox for miss tagging anything. also, i know lance isn’t a “popular driver” (whatever that fuckin means) but i’m in love with this smau, and i will not be accepting any judgement xxx

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instagram • ynplays • december 14th • cozy in a cabin ⚑

liked by valkyrae, yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, and 43,879 others

ynplays: falling love with canada🇨🇦🍁🏒⛸️🌨️

tagged yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, nhl

view comments

ynplays: sega cries after he walks us back to our room at night and leaves 😫

➥ user1: she’s just a liddol girl 🥹

➥ user2: the puppy has spoken u have to keep him i don’t make the rules 🤷🏿‍♀️

➥ user3: so...you have no choice but to run away with him into the sunset.

yoursister: booooo we get it you've been brainwashed by a canadian man 🙄🙄🙄

➥ ynplays: when was the last time you smiled today

➥ yoursister: it's difficult when ALL you do is yap about your crush on this hockey-core man 🤢

➥ ynplays: he gives himbo hockey player IM TELLNG YOU !!!

➥ user4: so he's canadian 😶

user5: his name starts with an L, he's approx 6'0, is brunette with brown eyes, and he's canadian with hockey player vibes👐🏻

➥ user6: i could walk two (2) steps outside of my house in ottawa and i'd run into a man who fits this description 😭😭

➥ user7: he sounds like every other bitch???

➥ user8: let's go through every minor and major hockey league roster again

➥ yourfriend1: "again?" who TF has time for that

user9: tagging THE nhl is crazy 💀

➥ user8: i'm telling you he's a hockey player

➥ user10: idk man he doesn't look like a hockey build in either of these photos🤔

igstory • yoursister uploaded!

[caption1; me and sis] [caption2; fuck. i guess they're kinda cute together 😒]

yourfriend2: did you see them doing snow angels together 🥺🥺☹️ yourfriend2: that had me smiling ngl...they're adorable yoursister: yeah, i'm just happy there's no red flags she's ignoring, he seems like a genuine dude

user11: do you improve of this lance? 6'0, brown eyes, brunette, canadian hockey player 🙂 yoursister: uhh i fear for his life,,are u gonna put a hit on him or smth yoursister: also he is not a hockey player lol user11: oh🫣 yoursister: i'm pretty sure he's like a car engineer or smth? i think i heard him say that

twitter • december 16th

instagram • ynplays • december 16th • sanctuary ⚑

liked by nhl, yoursister, yourbestie, yourmom, and 42,313 others

ynplays: i don't want to leave.

view comments

nhl: not me crying 😩 - admin

➥ user12: huh

➥ user13: nhl admin relatable

yourbestie: aw babe. enjoy your last five days here :)

➥ ynplays: i only have five days left 😟

➥ yourfriend1: oh girlie...it'll be alright

➥ yourfriend2: i always hate this part of the vacation

yoursister: please ask lance if he's willing to take you off my hands. permanently preferably.

➥ ynplays: are you familiar with the term sympathy?

➥ yoursister: oh you're sad for real

➥ yoursister: 😕 therapy session in the hot tub now ladies

➥ user14: this is depressing me

user15: hey, you can just elope? i don't think you've added that to your toolbox yet

➥ ynplays: too sad to even consider it rn

➥ ynplays: nvm he invited me to his cabin later 👅✌🏽

➥ user15: use protection 🙂‍↔️

user16: i feel like this should have a sensitive content warning

➥ user17: my day is ruined

➥ user18: and my disappointment is immeasurable

➥ user19: THERES 104 DAYS OF SUMMER VACATION🗣️🔊

➥ user20: read the room man @/user19

twitter • ynplays • december 21st

instagram • lancestroll • december 24th

liked by estebanocon, chloestroll, astonmartinf1, and 2,109,764 others

lancestroll: winter break has never felt so short. i missed you the second you stepped away from me. happy holidays, baby.

tagged ynplays

view comments

estebanocon: it’ll get better eventually mate ❤️‍🩹 believe it or not

➥ lancestroll: finding it hard to believe rn

chloestroll: come have some hot cocoa with me

➥ lancestroll: yn liked hot cocoa

➥ scottyjames31: oh mate…

➥ user21: okay, i'm concerned for my health. there's some sort of clear liquid leaking from my eyes

➥ user22: FUCK man this is sad 😕

astonmartinf1: chin up lance - admin

➥ alpinef1team: feeling for you mate - admin

➥ mercedesamgf1: sad it ended up like this for you lance - admin

➥ user23: the f1 teams are assembling like the avengers in infinity war for this

➥ user24: an unforgettable day in f1 history

yourmom: fix this. liked by lancestroll

➥ user25: w mama 🤩

➥ user26: tell him ma'am ‼️‼️

yourbestie: thank you for being good to her when you had her

➥ lancestroll: don't thank me for that.

➥ user27: cooking up my toaster bath actually

user30: well this is not the hard launch i wanted to confirm our theory.

➥ user31: brb about to create them in the sims and make them get married and have 6 children, sega, two cats and let them get old together

➥ user: realest cure for heartbreak

user28: no way they decided not being together at all is worse than being long distance

➥ yoursister: that's what i sad but nobody listens to me

➥ user28: why'd they do it???

➥ yoursister: my sister can be incredibly stupid about returned feelings. and for some reason she chose now to "protect her heart"

➥ user29: she deserves her happy ending and needs to allow herself to have it 😭😭😭

twitter • ynplays • december 25th

imessage • lance -> yn

© httpsserene 2024

[daisynik7]

to all the boys who live next door - masterlist

Hello friends! Wanted to do a fun little anthology series imagining some of our faves as our next-door neighbors. All fics will contain smut, therefore are rated explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Specific content warnings will be listed per fic.

If you'd like to be tagged on any of the upcoming fics below, please let me know in the comments or in my inbox! Thanks in advanced for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Extra Smooth - Suguru Geto

Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.

2. A Helping Hand - Kento Nanami

You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help. It's almost too good to be true.

3. Cure for a Hangover - Kishibe

Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped against; it’s yours.

4. Double the Fun - Eren + Reiner

You’ve been having a bit of a dry spell recently with how busy you’ve been at work. When you finally manage to snag a date through one of your matches on a dating app, you’re unfortunately stood up, leaving you in a worse mood than before. Lucky for you, your two hot himbo neighbors are more than willing to cheer you up.  

5. What Are Friends For? - Takuma Ino

Ino is the cute guy next door that you’ve befriended ever since you moved in. He’s been nothing but kind to you, and sure, there’s attraction there, but you’ve never acted on it considering you’re already taken. When you find out your long-distance boyfriend has been cheating on you, you turn to your friend for comfort, and maybe something more.

BONUS FICS!

6. Make Me Sweat - Aoi Todo

With the start of the new year, you make it one of your main resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your musclehead, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

7. Rub You the Right Way - Choso Kamo

You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso Kamo. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you think that maybe he has a wild side, one you want to see for yourself.

8. A Helping Hand Part 2 - Kento Nanami (coming soon)

After being caught calling out his name during a sex-filled dream involving your neighbor, you try your best to do some damage control to save face from utter humiliation. Nanami, on the other hand, isn't going to let you off the hook so easily.

Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!

[rookiesbookies]

Alex Keller horny head cannon

Alex Keller headcannons for my lovely mutual?

Of course @shotmrmiller <3

Alex is the type of man to get you in bed, get frustrated with his fake leg, and suddenly throw it when you’re making out.

“Sorry, sweet cheeks, I had to get rid of that thing.”

Before going back to making out with you.

So I’ll answer the questions I did for the others

He’s cut. The scar from where he was cut makes a ridge. The top third of his dick is nice and pink. His dick has a pretty uniform thickness but the tip is a nice large mushroom tip.

Oh the pop it makes coming out of your sloppy wet cunt after you’ve ridden him into a frenzy with your new little bench with elastic to help you bounce easier, so out of it his balls are red and his tip angry. His mouth is a drooling, babbling mess just like his dick. He groans as the cold air hits it.

His back flat against pillows, the energy to sit up long gone.

There’s only one piercing I see him with and he probably got his ears pierced. He considers a tongue or eyebrow piercing every time he’s piss drunk but always gets talked out of it. Got in the piercing chair for a frenum piercing once but as they cleaned it he sobered up, pull his pants up, and made a B lines back to where you two were staying.

Farah called him a chicken.

Also play with his hair, mess up his staple fluff and make it messy. Make him beg. Use him, he craves to be given orders and used. All he does is give orders, give him some. Use him like a toy. Your pleasure is his, your existence brings him pleasure. Just PLEASE use him, he’ll beg for it.

He loves when you’re in control, he doesn’t have to think, he just follows your lead and it makes him feel so good because you always know just want to do. He loves you when you domestically boss him around.

What does he loves more, you may ask? He loves when you trace the tattoos on his arms. When he feels you trace the tattoo on his collarbone it makes him shiver. Its simple, just the same information as his dog tags, but under it has the words “if lost please return to:” with your name and information. He got it one night drinking with his team, it was stupid but he loves being possessed and claimed. Belonging to something and someone. Sometimes more than just finding a purpose.

Hope you love it my lovely mutual.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

[mattybsgroupie]

MASTERLIST

— open here to read my stories ♡⊹𑄽୧

ABOUT ME

hello! my name is maria, i'm 21 and a matt girl for life. i became a fan of the triplets last year, but only had the guts to write again a few months ago and i'm so thankful i've been receiving great feedbacks from you guys and having such a good time here in this community.

i do not talk very often here cause it’s mainly for my stories, but i am online everyday at @bimboparis, my main account! that’s where i’ll be liking and following you guys from! im pretty chill and silly so feel free to dm me whenever you wanna chat! :) i don’t bite (unless you want me to)

i only write smut and the only rule in my blog is that i don’t do drama. i won’t be participating in any of it, so don’t even bother putting my name out there or inboxing me with gossip. if you have any issues with me please reach out and we’ll immediately fix it. my dms are always open so if there’s anything i’ve done that somehow bothered you, please let me know. i’m here to post fanfics and have a good time, that’s all.

♡⊹𑄽୧

MATT STURNIOLO

SUB!MATT

 MINE ➳ when matt claims that you’re only his, you show him he’s also gotta be only yours.

LATE NIGHT RIDES 1 ➳ you and matt have some fun in his van while waiting for his brothers at a party.

LATE NIGHT RIDES 2 ➳ you and matt know you shouldn’t be doing this so often, but matt just can’t resist you in that dress.

MISBEHAVE ➳ matt kept calling you “mama” because he wanted your attention, even if that meant being punished later.

PRETTY ➳ matt needs reassurance after reading nasty comments about his looks, and you make sure to show your boy just how pretty he is.

SLEEPOVER ➳ you and matt can’t fall asleep, and him calling you “mommy” definitely didn’t help.

HOMEWORK ➳ matt is the smartest guy in class, and you’ve been needing some help with your homework.

SECRET ➳ matt finds out you have a dildo and wants to see if you can fuck him as good as he fucks you.

MOVIES ➳ you and matt have fun at the same movie theater you started dating as kids.

ASSIGNMENT ➳ matt is a very good tutor, but he’s getting distracted by how short your skirt is.

♡⊹𑄽୧

DOM!MATT

FIRSTS ➳ after a rough week, matt gives you a massage that leads to your first time.

TAPE ➳ you lost the flashcard where matt kept all of your intimate moments and as your punishment, you're recording a sex tape on a new one.

TRIP ➳ after going to las vegas, matt misses you more than you’d imagined.

CALL ➳ matt can’t keep his mouth shut after seeing your new lingerie set. he needed to see you wearing it, even if it’s through a video call.

MORNINGS ➳ waking up to a needy matt and having slow, sleepy sex with him.

BIRHTDAY ➳ after not celebrating his birthday, matt punishes you, even when you wear his favorite lingerie.

SECRET 2 ➳ matt knows you love his cock, but he also knew you had a good time with your dildo. he wants to fuck you with both.

♡⊹𑄽୧

CHRIS STURNIOLO

DOM!CHRIS

DRESS ➳ chris gives you a helping hand when your earring gets stuck on your dress.

♡⊹𑄽୧

NEXT WORKS

ATTITUDE ➳ you and matt never clicked well. this until you guys had to spend a whole night sleeping on the same bed.

RIDE ➳ it’s your first rodeo and matt teaches you how to ride.

CAUGHT ➳ matt needed you so much he didn’t mind the risk of getting caught.

♡⊹𑄽୧

if you want to be tagged in my new stories, please leave a 🌸 emoji in the comments down below!

requests are always open — i might take some time to post but i’ll definitely write it, please be patient with me. same goes for my inbox and dms, come talk to me whenever you want!

asks, requests and chats are under the #ask maria tag!

THANK YOU ♡

[elixirfromthestars]

WELCOME TO MY CAFE! ˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡

I miss interacting with fellow writers and readers, so I decided to host my own little writing challenge ♡ Between juggling grad school prep and an internship, I wanted to do something to keep me connected to this lovely community, so welcome everyone to my cozy little cafe :) 

The writing challenge starts today and closes on September 29th (National Coffee Day). I will be reading + reblogging every fic. The masterlist will be posted at the end. (if you see this anytime later or can’t make the deadline do not fret, if anything below inspires you, you are welcome to write and tag me and I will add your submission to the masterlist♡)

Below are the rules, prompts, and guidelines ♡

who you can write for: all marvel characters are welcome / any fictional sebastian stan or chris evans characters are welcome too (any characters they’ve portrayed based on real life people will not be accepted though!!) (please keep it to x reader fics only!!)

some general guidelines: Below I’ve provided a number of different prompts and songs for inspiration ♡ Anyone can use them and mix and match however you’d like!! If you use any please let me know somewhere in the post! If none of them below inspire you, to stay within theme please include either a cafe or coffee somewhere in the fic :) 18+ fics are welcome, just please add warnings! Any length of fics are welcome, but if it’s over 500 words please add the “keep reading” option. If you write something as part of a bigger series please write your submission as a standalone ♡

˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡ This is a sweet and cozy little cafe, but of course, there is always a possibility of rain. If anything below inspires an angsty fic, then by all means go ahead and write it! Your submission does not have to include fluff! 

what is not accepted: no dark fics, anything involving minors, incest, rape, noncon/dubcon 

how to enter: please tag me and use #elixirscafe when you post ♡ i’ll leave a like to let you know I saw it and reblog it once I read it :) if i haven’t responded to your post send me an inbox or dm please and thank you! 

Happy writing! My inbox is always open for any questions or comments!! ♡  

What table are you sitting at? 

♡ Coffeeshop AU 

♡ Soulmate AU 

♡ Bakery AU 

♡ Regency Era AU 

♡ Western AU

♡ Neighbor AU 

♡ Pen Pal AU

♡ Small Town AU 

♡ Royal AU

♡ College AU

Would you like a sweet treat?

🍩 ༄ؘ “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” 

🍰 ༄ؘ Saying I love you for the first time.

🍪 ༄ؘ “ Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” 

🍫 ༄ؘ  “ You...you learned how to cook my favorite meal?”

🧁 ༄ؘ “ I’m not going to get sick, you baby. Just let me hold you.” 

🥧 ༄ؘ  “ What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms?”

🍮 ༄ؘ “ I’m only doing it because you’re cute.” 

🥯 ༄ؘ “ Could you hold my hand?” 

🥞 ༄ؘ “ I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” 

🍞 ༄ؘ “ I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” 

🍯  ༄ؘ “ Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?” 

🥐 ༄ؘ “ I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.”

Do you like the music in the cafe? Which song should I play next?

˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡ Feel free to use the lyrics below, the entire feel of the song, or any other lyrics in the song! The playlist is below in case you want to go through and listen to the songs while you write ♡

Apple Cider “ And I don’t even like you that much. Wait, I do, fuck. Call me at midnight. Let’s give this a try.” Beabadoobee

Apple Juice “ Don’t let goodbyes come too easy. Love me, just let me know that you need me.” Jessie Reyez

Apple Pie “I found you under an April sky, and you feel like city life, apple pie baked just right. Home is wherever you are tonight.” Lizzy McAlpine

August “ And I can see us twisted in bedsheets. August slipped away like a bottle of wine.’Cause you were never mine.” Taylor Swift

Bubble Gum “ Sorry I didn’t kiss you, but it’s obvious I wanted to.” Clairo

Caramel “ Love like a landslide, I kiss you goodnight. It used to be easy.” 5SOS

Cardigan “And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone's bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.” Taylor Swift

Chai Tea “ I love sippin’ chai tea, with you across from me. I love hearing your voice, talkin ‘bout nothing.” Audrey

Champagne Problems “ You had a speech, you’re speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches, and I couldn’t give a reason.” Taylor Swift

Chocolate “ I need more time off with you to turn you on. And I want to wake up without the alarm. A thousand eyes on me constantly, but I just want you.” Ziggy Alberts

Cinnamon “ It’s a slow cinnamon summer. Your spell is pulling me under. Rowing in a wooded hollow. Showing me the moves to follow.” Jome

Coffee Breath “ Make me fantasize,'bout you baby. And you smell so sweet, like fresh-picked daisies.” Sofia Mills 

Coffee Cup “ So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” Anthony Lazaro

Espresso “ Now he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night, oh. Is it that sweet? I guess so. Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s that me espresso.” Sabrina Carpenter

Grapejuice “ I was on my way to buy some flowers for you. Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath. There’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me.” Harry Styles

Honey + Tea “Girls like flowers, clever poetry. That old adage doesn't work on me, but conversation and a cup of tea. Boy, you had me at philosophy.” Mōzi

Milk & Honey “ So come meet me in the garden, where the angels sing. We’re mixing up milk and honey, soft lips divine. Slow cherry and lay me down, oh, she’s coming to set me free.” Jessarae

Pancakes for Dinner “ I’ll try to hide the way I feel, but I’ll just wanna shout. What do I have to lose right now?” Lizzy McAlpine

Thin Mints “ If you let me lova ya like I wanna, write you all the poems like Whitman. You can take my Thin Mints, if you let me love ya like I wanna.” Evan Crommett

Too Sweet “ I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three. You’re too sweet for me.” Hozier

playlist for the songs above can be found here: 🧸

to my lovely mutuals, please don’t feel pressured to participate or share, just thought I’d share this with you all ♡  

@peteyprecious616 ♡ @malum-forev ♡ @rosepetalsinwinter ♡ @inkedreverie ♡ @nickfowlerrr ♡ @missraion ♡ @pocolottie​ ♡ @sweetiebarnes ♡

[softpascalito]

javier peña x f!dea!reader - we got your back.

Summary: You work as a new DEA agent alongside Peña and Murphy. A not-so-kind colleague reveals more about you than you would like. Protectiveness and fluff ensues.

aka

my friend wrote me some hurt/comfort headcanons and i turned them into a small something :)

Relationships: Javier Peña x FemReader (can be read as romantic or platonic)

WC: ~4200

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Canon-Typical Violence, No beta we die like Colonel Carrillo, Family Issues, They arent specified but reader is implied to be from a dysfunctional family, Steve is here too

AO3 LINK // PART 2 // PART 3 (on tumblr)

Notes:

hello!

there is a mention of the readers dysfunctional family in this story. if you relate to that in any way, please always remember that you are worthy of healthy love. it exists. seek help or advice if you need it. toxic environments arent forever. if you need to talk, my inbox is always open.

i havent written anything in a while and english is not my first language so please be kind and leave a comment if you like it &lt;3 _______________________________

Chapter 1

You had been in Bogotá for less than three months and while the past weeks had been filled with too little sleep, too much coffee and the daily fear of being targeted by a sicario , you had developed somewhat of a routine in the new environment. This was in large parts due to work at the Embassy. With Bogotá traffic being, well, Bogotá traffic, there'd been several days where you'd just bunked down on your office floor instead of going home to your bed which eventually had led to both Javier and Steve and now you always keeping a spare pillow and blanket around the office to make it slightly more comfortable. The most homey part about the Embassy however, were the people. Not just the two agents you were assigned to assist, hell, not even just the DEA department. Everyone helped each other out wherever they could. Being a gringo in Colombia with a drug lord promising a nice sum of money for your head was impossible to bear by yourself. And only almost impossible to bear with a bunch of people who were in the same position as you. You got along with almost everyone at the embassy. Almost everyone . The harsh contrast to your other, kind colleagues was a DEA secretary: Raquel Vázquez. She had been throwing obstacles and hateful glances your way as soon as you had arrived. You weren't even sure why she hated you so much. She was the wife of another agent and as spouses were not allowed to work anywhere but the embassy, she was stuck with her desk job, spending the day signing off letters, faxing intel to Washington and her favorite pass-time: taunt you for whatever she could come up with. “Hey, are you even listening?” Steve is crouched down in front of your desk and waving his hand through your line of sight, trying to grab your attention. Almost immediately there is a dramatic, loud sigh from the other side of the room:” How do you expect her to function on a job like this if she can't even manage to function within her own family?” Raquel snaps before rolling her eyes and pretending to look at the documents in front of her. Your head practically whips around as your brain processes what she just said. How the hell does that bitch know about your family situation? “I- I need to get a refill,” you mumble as you get up abruptly and grab your coffee mug, your old chair screeching as it is pushed back. Suddenly you're feeling a lot smaller as you navigate your way through the desks and flee to the small kitchen down the hall. You almost collide with Javier, who is just getting back from a meeting. You squeeze past him, not even giving him a chance to tease you. If one more person gets on your nerves, you are surely going to cry and you do not need that in front of your colleagues. Least of all in front of Raquel.

“Is everything alright with her?” Javier asks as he walks over to Steve, who is still kneeling in front of your desk and staring at the doorway you just left through. He slowly stands up and turns his attention towards the secretary, casually leaning over your now abandoned desk with crossed arms as his angry gaze bores into Raquel's skull. His eyes not leaving her, he turns towards Javi:” Do you know Y/N's family?” He asks bluntly. Javier seems somewhat taken aback by the question. He ponders for a few moments, his furrowed eyebrows forming a deep line on his forehead as he slowly shakes his head:'' I don't think she's ever mentioned them. Didn't come up. Why?” Steve's gaze is still on the secretary, knowing that she is listening in to every and each of their words:” Raquel mentioned them.” He raises his voice slightly:” How did you put it? Dysfunctional ?” Javi clenches his jaw as he turns to the woman as well. With a few quick strides, he approaches her desk and almost slams his hands down on it.

“Señora Vázquez.” His voice is barely more than an angry, deep grumble. The woman jumps slightly as she looks up at him as he towers over her. Before she can even open her mouth, he continues:” Don't you think the higher ups would be interested in the fact that you prioritize the private life of your coworkers over your actual work?” At the implication of his words, a panicked look appears on Raquel's features:” I don't know what you're talking about.” Giving her a warning look, Javier turns on his heels and follows you, muttering a “gonorrea de fea” under his breath.

You are standing in the small kitchen space, your elbows resting on the counter as you hold your head in your hands. The empty cup that had served as your makeshift alibi is standing next to you, forgotten. You hear the footsteps just in time to scramble back up and clutch the empty mug in your hands as you try and put on a nonchalant face. Judging by the way Javier is looking at you, you're not doing a very good job. He has been leaning against the doorframe and is now slowly stepping towards you:” I didn't mean to startle you.” You notice he has activated what Steve and you always call his “puppy face”. There is a softness in his brown eyes that you know is reserved for those closest to him as he leans against the counter next to you. “I- It's fine I just …” You stumble over your own words, too upset to find a quick excuse for your behavior and lie to him. The truth is, you're not entirely sure you want to lie to him. Not when he is standing so close to you, looking at you with that stupid, heart-melting look in his eyes. “I heard about what happened,” Javi interrupts your rather unsuccessful attempt at explaining yourself. So whatever excuse you have ready, I don't need to hear it.

He gently reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping closer and taking the empty mug out of your hands. He notices that it's empty. He doesn't mention it. Instead, he reaches around you to place it on the counter before gently pulling you into his embrace. Javier isn't really a hugging person. Hell, you aren't either. But he holds you close, gently stroking your back and you feel whatever resolve you had left about allowing him to comfort you evaporating into thin air.

“You know Steve and I always got your back, right?” He mumbles, his voice low. You can feel his lips on your forehead as he ever so gently places a small kiss on it. You know he is expecting an answer but you feel as if opening your mouth will also open the floodgates so you simply nod your head. He sighs softly:” Good, good. I also want you to know that if you need someone, you can come to me anytime. Day, night, fucking lunchbreak, I dont care.”

Leaning back just enough so he can see you, Javi gently lifts your chin up with his hand, forcing you to lock eyes with him to make sure you can see that he actually means his words.

“I'm here for you, cariño and I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

“Yeah,” you manage to breathe out, your heart bursting with love and appreciation for the man in front of you. Smiling, satisfied, Javier presses another small kiss to your temple before letting go of you to pour you a new coffee. He adds a large splash of milk, just as you like it and insists on carrying it back to your desk for you. As you make your way through the hallway, just before you walk through the large door that leads into the DEA office, he stops in his tracks, turning to you with a smirk on his face.

“You also know that I'll put everything into getting Raquel fired if she ever bothers you again, don't you?” A laugh escapes you before you can help it and you gently nudge him to go on:” Im counting on it.”

You could swear it's the biggest grin you've ever seen on his face. _________________________________

thank you for reading, you lovely people. and a huge thank you to my friend hannah who wrote me the headcanons that i made into this small story. she is the true genius behind it and an absolutely amazing person, ily <3 comments or feedback are always very appreciated and truly make my day <3

[bamsywrites]

Flowers and Fire

Chapter 2: 'Ella and Almond

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC, future! Aegon ii Targaryen x OC

Tags/Warnings: fluff, childhood friends, shitty parents, angst ish, mostly just cute friend stuff

Notes: in this fic people are aged up a bit, Viserys is sick but not decaying yet, and Aegon is an asshole but not a rapist. Sorry if this is OCC or badly written. Please leave comments or criticism. My asks and inbox are open

Previously: Prologue

Aemond watched the waves crash against rocks, salty tears spilling down his cheeks and he could taste them on his tongue. He did not know what he had done to make them hate him. His nephews, his brother. Simply for not possessing a dragon. Aemond the Dragonless they had called him when he entered the hall for supper, snickering amongst each other. Aegon had even bonded with them over the shared torment.

"Why are you crying?"  A voice spoke out against the quiet of the night.

Aemond quickly wiped his eyes, sniffing as he sat up. He looked over the intruder, a young girl maybe a year younger with thick curly hair and striking green eyes. He could see she was missing several of her front teeth causing a bit of a lisp.

"I was not."

"You were too, She spoke brightly, sitting down next to him. "Is it because you don't have a dragon? I heard the other princes teasing you for it earlier in the courtyard."

He continued to look at her in silence, not sure what to think of this girl. Was she here to tease him too? Another cruel prank?

"I don't have a dragon, and I don't think there's anything wrong with me."

"You're not a Targaryen." He spoke bluntly, glaring at the young girl.

"No, I'm a Tyrell. I live in a place called Highgarden, and there are flowers everywhere, but anytime I try to tend to a garden, all the flowers die. I'm also a girl, and I'm supposed to like stitching, but I don't. I hate it, and I'm bad at it because every time I poke my hand with the needle." She flexed her fingers as she spoke, and Aemond could see little nicks and scars confirming her story.

He continued to sit in silence, staring at her. It was kind of jarring, going from nothing but the sound of the waves to hearing this other person who seemingly has no boundaries. A bundle of weirdly cheerful and optimistic energy in a pale pink dress. It had been mere moments but he already knew he'd never met anyone like her.

"But," she continued, "I did find things to be really super good at it. I draw, my penmanship is perfect according to my septa, and I'm good at remembering things which might not seem like a feat, but I remember dates and people and family sigils, my father says I'm like a walking history book. That's what you must do, find something else to be super good at."

Aemonds eyebrows furrowed,  wheels in his head turning. Of course, it mattered that he didn't have a dragon. He was the son of the king. It was a disgrace for him not to have one but a small voice said perhaps she was right. Maybe if he put more effort into his studies or using a sword then he would outshine the rest. Maybe he could still prove his worth without one, though his heart longed for one and there was a pull in his blood to find one.

"They would not care. They'd still tease me," he spoke finally and it was the truth. They would continue to tease him no matter what he did. It seemed to be the only thing the other boys liked to do; it truly was something that bonded Aegon with his nephews, it seemed. A shared torture of Aemond.

"But why do you care?" She asked with a tilt of her head and her eyes narrowed slightly as she awaited his answer.

She seemed genuinely interested in his answer, in him and his feelings. It was weird. Why would a stranger care? There had not been another child who did care; when other children visited The Keep, they almost always joined in with the others in their torment. Or they simply ignored him altogether. He thought over her words; their taunts affected him mainly because they were right. He was different. How could he be feared or respected if he had no dragon?

He could feel the emotions in his throat, making his voice sound thick as he tried not to cry. "Because they disrespect me! Because...because they're right. I'm different."

"That's true," she nodded, "You're different, but why is it bad? They're boring. My mama always told me that people were only rude or mean because they had no other way to be interesting. Mama was right. Your brother, your cousins, they aren't interesting or unique. They're mean because they have nothing else to be, it's all they have."

"They have each other. They have friends."

"You have me. I'll be your friend."

"I don't even know your name."

"My name is Avella. Avella Tyrell. And you're Prince Aemond. Now we can be friends."

~

"Are you even listening to me?" Lance Tyrell stared at his daughter across the table in their guest apartments in the Keep.

Avella nodded, her eyes focused on the deep red liquid in her goblet as she sloshed it from side to side. This was a nightmare. She spent most of her life avoiding Aegon if she could,  she's not liked him for one second. She had watched him tease his little brother relentlessly, watched him drink and whore his way around the city and the castle. She'd heard the whispers of noble women being rushed moon tea after they fell for his advances.

And now he was to be her husband.

"It's a good match. He's the firstborn son of The King," her father went on to explain rather matter-of-factly, not seeming to notice or care about the turmoil going on in his daughter's mind.

"The other vassal houses' faith in the Hightowers is crumbling. They've always looked to us as an example during those times and this will reinforce their loyalty to the Hightowers as you are marrying the grandson of Otto. It will strengthen our position," he continued after he received no response.

It felt like the world was crumbling around her, Avella started nibbling the skin of her inner lip and shook her head. "I do not wish for this, father." She spoke softly, barely heard across the table.

"Avella," Lance sighed in exasperation, his hand running over his beard. "This is what is needed for our family. One day we may be the Liege lords, with many vassals under us, and this connection to the crown is invaluable. The Hightowers are simply buying themselves time with this union before they fall out of favor."

Her silent gaze caught his, swallowing back tears as she silently pleaded with her father to take back this proposal and marry her off to someone else. Anyone else. She'd rather go live in the cold and snow of the North. She knew her duty, that she'd never marry for love and that was something she'd long ago come to terms with despite any girlhood fantasy of being swept off her feet. But she wanted to marry someone kind or honorable, someone who, at the very least, would show her respect and guard her dignity.

Aegon was neither kind nor honorable, he would disrespect her for sport and subject her to a slew of indignities as he would never be faithful to her or to stop spending his night lost in his cups. The most she could hope for was for him to quickly give her children and then leave her alone, a rather sad and lonely way to spend the rest of her days.

The thought of living at the Red Keep filled her with dread as well. Everyone was fake, perhaps not Heleana or Aemond but neither of those two seemed to want for a friend or company. The only company she could hope for would be that of the noble ladies and she couldn't stand them as much as they couldn't stand her. Talk of gossip, gawking at cute knights or lords, sewing dresses, the fake friendliness they all exuded, she wasn't suited for it. She would rather spend time with her friends at home,  Jeyne and Cait, who would go on walks with her or draw and read with her, whom the conversation extended past which Lord had taken a mistress that week.

Not to mention it was hotter than she was accustomed to.

The silence between them grew thick and uncomfortable. Lance had not seen his daughter as an independent person since she entered her teen years, moving from an attentive father who seemed to relish in her company to a man who wanted to marry his daughter off to be the broodmare for some noble lord and bring the family new connections. She missed when her father was her papa, when he would play with her and read to her, when she felt safe with him. She looked at him and wondered where that man had gone. Had she done something? Was he deceiving her all along? Was it perhaps something else entirely? It mattered not,  this was the reality she was faced with. It may just take a moment for her to come to terms with it.

"This is the best you could ask for, truly." Lance tapped his fingers against the table and took a swig from his wine. "And, in time, you will become queen."

His last words came slowly and her brow furrowed. Rhaenyra was the heir; everyone knew that. King Viserys had made that clear. Even if she wasn't, Aegon was not meant for the throne. He couldn't be a good king, he didn't know how. There wasn't one good bone in his body. The discipline it would take, the self-control, was something the prince had never possessed.

"Rhaenyra is heir," she answered simply.

Her father chuckled and shook his head, "The realm will not accept her. Law and tradition all dictate that the firstborn son shall take the throne. Once Viserys is dead, Aegon will take the throne and you will be his queen."

"And if I do not wish to be queen?"

The question made the tension boil over; Lance slammed his goblet down on the table. "You will marry him, you have no choice. You are my daughter, you will do as I say."

She swallowed thickly, standing up as tears welled in her eyes. "I'm glad it has served you so, father, that I was born a daughter and not a son." Without another word, she pushed past the guards and left the room.

~

She paced back and forth, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. The only thing lighting the courtyard was the stars and the light of a few torches. Her room felt suffocating, the pitied looks of her handmaids made her stomach turn. It wasn't hard to sneak out and use pillows to make it seem she was asleep in her bed. Her fingers twisted her ring as she thought.

Perhaps she could run away? She could cut her hair and bind her chest, giving herself to The Wall. She could steal a horse and ride for Dorne, hoping to be shielded there from her father's cruel agreement. Or board a ship and sail far away to some distant place in Essos. Anything to get away from this place. To get away from her future, it made her feel like she was suffocating or being buried alive.

Aemond had arrived at the courtyard with the same purpose. He'd heard the news whispered by servants, and he had his mother confirm it. His world came crashing down around him, though he was better at hiding his inner turmoil than most. His feelings for her, he was starting to recognize, were more than mere attraction and had evolved from the friendship of their youth. He didn't label it yet, afraid to speak into existence because if he did, then it might hurt more. He didn't know if he could stomach seeing Aegon with her, not just because of his feelings towards her,  but because he wanted better for her. He wanted a husband who would see her for what she was, who would respect her, hold to his vows, and be a friend to her.

Aegon would be none of that.

He wanted fresh air, he wanted to hit something really hard with his sword. He wasn't expecting to see her out here as well. He watched silently for a moment, the feelings of anxiety radiating from her were so palpable he could almost taste it. Would it be inappropriate to approach her? After all these years of avoiding her and the distance that had grown between them, it was hard for him to imagine her wanting him there.

His resolve was broken when he saw her lip quivering and her arms wrapping around herself, the sound of the broken sob in her throat that she was trying desperately to silence. He didn't touch her; he simply stood there for a moment until she noticed him.

"Prince Aemond," she straightened up, wiping her eyes quickly.

He swallowed at the formality of her response. "I remember a time when you only addressed me as 'King Almond', even in letters," his voice was soft as he moved closer to her.

Avella laughed at that, eyes still watery from her unshed tears and her throat thick with sobs yet to come, " 'Ella and Almond," she said softly referring to their childhood nicknames.

"You were always the more creative of us," he smiled a rare sight for most but something that was all too common around her.

"I had to be creative. All you did was brood in the library; it would have been dreadfully boring if I hadn't," she smiled softly at him.

A smirk tugged at his lips, "Are you saying you found me boring?"

"You insisted on reading the texts in High Valyrian. I do not speak High Valyrian."

He couldn't help but laugh softly and she joined him. Her tears seemed to subside and he just watched her a moment. She looked beautiful; in the stars and moonlight, she looked like a goddess.

She was a goddess to him, he'd worship at her alter for eternity if only she allowed.

"Mother told me the news."

The last sentence seemed to change the atmosphere between them. He didn't know why the words pushed past his lips when they were so obviously enjoying each other's company. Perhaps it was self-sabotage, hurting himself now so as not to open himself up to hurt in the future.

Her smile faltered and she looked at the ground, a sobering return to reality. "Oh, yes," she wet her lips. There was no use forcing a smile, Aemond would see right through it.

"I..." He didn't know what to say. Apologize? It wasn't his fault and he knew she would remind him as much. Confess his feelings to her? That was crazy and would just make her feel worse or push them further apart. Offer to take her away to Pentos where they can wed in secret? That was even crazier.

"I do not wish to continue with this silence if you are to live in the Keep," he confessed, and it was true. "I have missed your friendship."

Avella nodded, "As I have yours. I have been dreading the loneliness and boredom of this marriage, having my dearest old friend back will make it all the more bearable."

Dearest old friend. Aemond smiled at that, nodding his head. "I think it would do me good as well to have you here again. You have always been kind and caring. A gentle soul would do me good."

She nodded her head, her heart felt full as he talked of her so fondly. She had been worried he no longer cared or that perhaps she did something to ruin the friendship. Questions of why he had shut her out flitted through her mind but she pushed those back, promising herself to ask another time.

"As for boredom, perhaps I can help with that too. You will be a Targaryen by marriage; I think it would do you well to learn our histories. I know how history has always been of interest to you." His words ignited a curiosity inside her belly, an excitement.

"Perhaps you could teach me your family's native tongue as well," Avella asked with a questioning gaze, wondering if he would refuse her request or not.

Aemonds eye twinkled, "Perhaps I could."

She felt emboldened that he accepted her first request, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Perhaps you could teach me to use a sword."

This time Aemond chuckled softly, nodding his head. "Perhaps I could," he repeated.

It was incredible how fast it seemed their friendship was repaired. It felt the same as when they were young. The atmosphere, the banter, it was easy, and it seemed to simply click back into place in mere moments.

Avella felt relieved that she would not be alone here, that she had her dear friend back. Aemond alone would not be able to cure the loneliness that she was sure to come in her marriage, and she would still miss her friends at home, but it was better than nothing. It was better than simply being stuck with Aegon forever.

"When is the ceremony going to be?" Aemond asked; again, the atmosphere became tense at the reminder, but Avella seemed to be feeling a little more at ease.

"Within the fortnight. We are waiting for my family to reach Kings Landing. My brothers and grandmother are to attend." She spoke, fidgeting with her ring again and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

He simply looked at her for a moment. "While it might not offer much in terms of condolences, I will say I am grateful that you are aware of who he is. What is to come would be much more unbearable if you were not."

She nodded, shaking her head with a soft smile, "Ever the pragmatist aren't you?"

"It would be more harmful to you if I was dishonest and pretended that it wasn't what it was."

"I do not disagree. But we are speaking as if I'm marching to my death. Perhaps he will simply ignore me."

"Perhaps."

They fell into a comfortable silence. His presence was calming to her and knowing she had her best friend back eased her nerves about what was to come. It was that, mixed with the late hour and intense emotions of the day that caused a blanket of exhaustion to fall over Avella.

She yawned, looking at Aemond. "I must go to bed or I will fall asleep here. Will I see you tomorrow?"

He nodded towards her, "You will. Goodnight 'Ella."

Avella couldn't stop the bright smile stretching across her features and Aemond felt his heart stop at the sight.

"Goodnight Almond."

[mylostloversbookmarks]

thank you!! My request is: Joel x female reader. Age gap. They met after Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, they started to know each other, at first they kept it a bit like a secret but then, when things started to get more serious, they didn’t hide anymore. Things got so serious that after a while (not immediately, like a year or two) Joel asked reader to move in with him and Ellie.

Ellie loves reader and she’s more than happy that Joel found his special someone. Could you add a scene where reader is with Ellie one afternoon and they see Joel with a woman, acting really intimate, which connects to reader’s thoughts about Joel being a bit weird the previous days. She thinks he’s cheating on her, also because the woman is really close and intimate to Joel in that situation.

She wants to leave before he sees her but Joel notices her presence, tries to talk to her but doesn’t deny the accusations at first, (so a lot of angst!!!) which makes reader think she lost the love of her life.

They don’t talk for a few days and try to ignore each other when possible, despite living together. Ellie is sad and suffers from this situation. Joel loves reader too much to ruin things so he puts his pride aside and tries talking to her. They eventually talk it through, he was not cheating (choose whatever the alternative to that is!!) maybe a little fluff at the end or also something else? You choose!

also, if you have any rules or have triggers about something that I requested please let me know and change the story how you need to.

And I’m extremely sorry if this request is too long and detailed.

thank you!!!

Guiding Lights - a Joel Miller one shot.

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count - 8.7K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, , Sus!Joel, Soft!Joel, insecurities, suspected cheating, no actual cheating, I think thats all?

A/N - @addictedtotlou This is my first ever fic request and I cannot thank you enough for sending it through, and also for dropping into my inbox to let me know it was you that requested it! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy <3

Feedback, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

You often find yourself reminiscing on the day you met Joel and Ellie, it feels like forever ago now, though it has only really been a few years.

The winters in Wyoming were never kind, but that year, Mother Nature had been particularly cruel. Strong winds and vicious snow blizzards reduced visibility to almost nothing. You had heard those posted to the lookout stations talking over lunches and complaining about how bad the conditions were getting.

So in a bid to keep the good folks of Jackson safe, Tommy and Maria decided to double the number of patrols around the commune in an attempt to keep an eye on the horizon for any potential threats who could be hiding just beyond their sights.

Needless to say, it had been a rather slow work day in the Tipsy Bison, with the usual counting and re-counting of stock, checking on the latest brew of beers and whisky, ensuring everything was going as planned, and cleaning of the already immaculate bar, all finished in record time.

Expecting the usual after-work rush that never came, you sent the other two bar staff over to the mess hall to see if the kitchen needed any help with preparations for tomorrow's meals.

As the two said their goodbyes over their shoulders, you heard one of them mumble a shocked "What the hell?"

With your interest piqued, you stepped out from behind the old wooden bar and crossed the floor to the large square windows at the front of the building. Your eyes followed their gaze and watched as the afternoon patrol crew filed through the large wooden and steel-clad gates of the commune.

You waved as a few of your regulars passed you, a few tipping the brims of their ten-gallon hats. You quickly realised what had drawn your colleagues' attention when your eyes landed on two new faces in the middle of the crew.

The first newcomer was a man; he wore a thick brown winter coat and jeans that looked like they could stand up on their own, and you could see the toe of his work boot was mended with what looked to be duck tape. His eyes were sharp and focused, darting around him as if in search of someone or something.

Instantly, he gave you the impression of someone who had been on the road for quite some time. Having been there yourself, you felt a surge of sympathy for him, but you were still wary of him, not knowing why he had been brought inside the walls.

The second was a girl, whom you assumed to be the man's daughter; she was small and looked to be in her early teens. Strands of her tawny brown hair peek out from under her winter hat. big, bright eyes, taking in her surroundings in wonder, while the man stared straight ahead. The girl seemed to be unaware that all eyes were on her, from those who stood on the street to others standing in shop windows, just as you were.

You followed the other barstaff out to the porch and offered the girl a small smile as your eyes met, she quickly looked away without returning it. It wasn't often that Jackson took in new people, opting to keep off the radar to try and protect what you had here. Maria was on this afternoon's patrol and had no doubt made the call to bring the two into the commune.

As the crew passed, heading further into the small town, you saw the man's head snap to the left, and he opened his mouth.

"Tommy!" he shouted, his deep, booming voice ringing in the silence. In an instant, he was off his horse and running in the direction of the scaffolding that had been put up to repair some of the damage to a neighbouring building.

You watched on in stunned silence as the two men ran towards each other, unsure of what the newcomers intentions were, but before you had made it down the two steps of the porch, the man wrapped his arms around Tommy and began laughing, disbelief colouring the sound.

The two men stood embracing each other, both breathless from laughter, and you knew immediately who the newcomer was. This was Joel, Tommy's brother.

Tommy had spoken of him before; usually after one too many whiskies at the bar, he would open up to you about how guilty he felt about staying off the radio. He would say things like, "It's only a matter of time before he comes looking for me, Y/N; what am I supposed to do? Turn him away?" and "One thing about my big bother is that he's persistent."

You had always offered words of understanding and comfort and almost always cut him off and sent him home after those conversations, knowing that no good could come from him drinking any more alcohol.

Part of being the town's main bar tender was also being a listening ear whenever someone needed it, but with Tommy, it was different. He and Maria had become your closest friends, and you would always be there when either of them needed you, working or not.

You always got the sense that something had happened between the two men that couldn't be fixed. As you watched the brothers reunite, you realised that the thought couldn't be further from the truth.

Maria caught your eye as she dismounted from her horse and jerked her head to the side, beseeching you to join her. You nodded at her and crossed the road to where she was standing, hitching her horse to one of the many posts dotted around town.

"Maria, is that who I think it is?" You asked her quietly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation.

"Yeah, it is," she spat. "I don't know how the hell he found us out here." She continued, venom dripping from each word.

You knew that Maria had never actually met Joel, but from the stories Tommy had told you both in the early years, she knew what he was capable of and decided then and there that she did not like him. You, on the other hand, had a more objective outlook on things.

You were not involved in the same way Maria was, of course; she and Tommy were married after all, so you could understand her reservations when he opened up about his past with his brother and the things they had done and what they thought they needed to do to survive.

The problem was, Maria had been in Jackson longer than you and Tommy and therefore had less of an idea what a brutal hellscape it was outside the walls. Maria wasn't stupid; she knew that it was dangerous, but it had been so long since she had to live like that, to really be surviving, not trusting anyone you met along the way, not knowing where your next meal was coming from, or if you were going to make it to worry about the next meal.

You, on the other hand, had lived that life for longer than you would like to remember, and though you didn't have innocent blood on your hands, they were far from clean. So you could sympathise with Tommy and the demons that clearly kept him up at night. So you felt the hatred that Maria has for Joel was a little unfounded.

"I'm happy he found him again," you admitted, unable to help the undercurrent meant by your works. What you really wanted to say was "This should have happened a long time ago if you had let him respond to Joel's calls on the radio" Meeting her narrowed eyes, you saw a flash of anger in them. No doubt you will get an earful for that comment later.

You knew what she was going to say: that Joel wasn't going to fit in here in Jackson, that Tommy was better off without him, and that you should keep a safe distance from him. But she didn't have the opportunity, as Tommy was already walking towards the two of you.

Joel had walked back to where the girl waited on her horse; a worried, almost disappointed expression crossed her face as he gestured towards Tommy. You watched as he gently helped her down from the animal, making sure she was steady on her feet before the pair followed behind Tommy.

"Y/N, Maria, ah… this is my big brother, Joel," Tommy announced, his tone a mixture of pride and nervousness.

"Hey, it's good to finally meet you; I've heard a lot about you." You smiled kindly at him; he nodded once in response, his expression guarded.

"I'm Ellie! It's nice to meet you," the girl chirps cheerily before shoving her elbow into Joel's ribs. "Joel, say hello," she all but hissed at him, which makes you chuckle.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ellie." You beam.

"It's, uh, good to meet you," he managed quietly.

Two years later...

A loud knock at your front door startles you. Your hand flies to your heart as you curse under your breath. Who the hell would be calling on you at this hour of the morning?

You pad down the hallway and open the door to find Joel standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He seemed keyed up, and your heart drops to your stomach; something must have happened.

"Hey, is everything okay? Did something happen? Is Ellie alright?" You squeaked at him, the panic rising in your chest causing your voice to go up an octave.

"Yes, darlin, everything's fine, Ellie's good; don't worry; I just need to talk to you about something, that's all," he assured you in his thick Texas drawl.

"Everything's good… but you need to talk to me about something at 6 a.m." You questioned him dubiously, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I promise everything is fine; I have morning patrol and was hoping I could catch you before I head out," Joel explains, the ghost of a smile playing on his plump lips.

"Ah, okay, that makes sense, sorry; c'mon, handsome." You laugh as you open the door for him to enter and close it after him.

He follows you down the hall into the small kitchen, lingering in the doorway and studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your figure as you pour him a cup of coffee. Strong, black, no sugar—just the way he likes it.

Turning with the mug in your hand, you let out a breathy laugh at the sight of him. He looked wired, far too awake for this hour of the morning. Was he sweating?

"Joel, baby, are you alright?" You ask curiously as you hand him his coffee and take your usual seat at the end of the dining table.

"Yeah, I just…I wanna ask you something but I don't know how" he confessed sheepishly, his large hand coming to scratch nervously at the back of his neck.

"I'd like to think you know me well enough by now to know you can ask me anything." You said it with a smile, hoping to calm whatever was causing his nerves.

"Yeah, no, I know, I just don't want to freak you out; there's no pressure, and I understa-"

"Just spit it out, Joel." You interrupt him. In the two years you had been with Joel, you had never seen him struggle for words with you, and it was making you anxious.

"Okay," he huffs out, pulling the dining room chair out so he could sit facing you. He takes a long drink of coffee before continuing, and the suspense is killing you.

"So I was speaking to Ellie, and you know we both love you; hell, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me!" He chuckles fondly: "Look, we've been seeing each other for a while, and now that everyone knows, I think it would be good, you know, f-for Ellie if she had a…I dunno, like a mother figure on a more permanent basis." The words were falling out of his mouth like an avalanche. He desperately hoped he was making sense, but you still weren't understanding.

"Permenant basis? What do you mean?" You ask, confusion clear on your face, making him laugh again.

"Yeah, like on an everyday basis," he enphasises. Urging you to grasp the meaning of his words.

"Okay, um, I mean, yeah, I think that's a great idea. I love that kid. I will tell her about making an effort to hang out every day." You promise him sincerely and are touched that he thinks of you as a mother figure to his daughter.

"That's not really what I was thinking, baby; I mean, on a permanent basis, like you would live in the same house." He husks softly, his eyes searching your face for your reaction, and his heart sinks to his boots as he watches your brows knit together.

"Did you have another fight?" You ask him, reaching your hand up to stroke the side of his face, your thumb lingering on the heart-shaped patch of his beard where the hair refused to grow. "Ellie's always more than welcome to stay here when she likes, but Joel, I don't think her moving in here is the answer."

He takes your hand from his face and holds it between both of his; he huffs all the air from his lungs and slowly takes another deep breath. Straightening in his chair, he locks eyes with you.

"I knew this would be an easy ask, but I didn't imagine you making it this hard on me," he says exasperatedly, huffing out another loud laugh.

"I don't understand." Confusion layers your tone, and you are sure your face is doing the same.

"I'm not asking if Ellie can move in with you; I'm asking if… if you would like to move in with us Y/N" He admits. His brown eyes are soft and lingering on your face, and his thumb is tracing small circles on your wrist.

This was not the conversation you were expecting to have over your morning coffee; your brain was barely functioning, and your mind started to race. The last two years of your life, with Joel and Ellie passing by before you in a blur of colours and memories.

You had sympathised with Joel's struggles to adjust to life in Jackson, and given that you worked in the only bar in town, he quickly became a familiar face. You ignored Maria's warnings to stay away from him; after all, she didn't know him from Adam, and you felt it was unfair to judge someone on the things they had done as the world fell apart overnight.

So, slowly but surely, you found yourself at work, hoping each night that he would stop in so you could get to know him better, and he always did. Always opting to sit at the bar, despite there being plenty of more comfortable booths to sit at.

At first, it was always you who initiated the conversation, asking him how his day was, how the patrol had gone, and how Ellie was fitting in, and you listened tentatively to what little information he would give you. Until eventually, after a couple of months of the same routine, he started to open up to you.

He would ask you how you were, how your shift had been, if you had a good day off, and on occasion he would let slip that he "missed you yesterday" when he called in for a drink on his way home from patrol, only to be disappointed that you were nowhere to be found.

It made you giddy; he was on your mind constantly; it made you feel like there was a swarm of butterflies in your belly, but you thought it was only harmless flirting as there was a considerable age gap between you both, with Joel being in his fifties and you in your early thirties, you didn't think Joel would be interested in a relationship with you.

But how wrong you were! After a couple of weeks of late-night drinks after the bar had officially closed, Joel had bitten the bullet and asked you out, though he asked if you wouldn't mind keeping it between the two of you as he didn't know how Ellie would react to him seeing someone and you gladly accepted.

You understood that Ellie was and always would be his first priority, and you admired his unwavering dedication to her, especially after finding out that Ellie wasn't his blood relative; he had taken her on as "cargo," as he affectionately put it. As a way to get one step closer to finding his brother, but she had worked her way under his skin, much like she did with everyone she met. It was so difficult not to like her. With her quick wit and foul mouth, she never failed to make you laugh. She was definitely his daughter, blood or no blood.

The thought of Ellie brings your mind back to the question at hand: should you move in with them? Was now the right time? Was Ellie even okay about this? Did she even know Joel had asked you? Each question raced through your mind until your mouth found one it could form words around.

"What does Ellie think of this?" You asked Joel intently, reading his face for any signs of worry or panic at your question, but there were none to be found.

"I mentioned to Ellie a few months ago that I thought it would be nice if you were around all the time, and she agreed, and then I sat her down yesterday and told her that I was thinking of asking you today, and she was all for it. I don't want you to feel pressured in any way, though; it's okay if it's too soon; you can say no, and we won't be offended in the slightest!" Joel assures you, his voice is low and genuine.

He lifts his right hand to the side of your face and gently brushes the hair out of your eyes, his calloused thumb stroking back and forth as you lean into his touch, allowing your eyes to fall closed. Taking a deep breath, you throw caution to the wind.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, your voice drops to a whisper. "Yes, I'll move in."

Suddenly your body was moving, and not by its own volition; your eyes were still closed, so your brain was having trouble registering what was happening. When your eyes flashed open in surprise, you were caught up in Joel's arms, spinning around your small kitchen with your feet no longer planted on the floor.

"Joel!" You squeal through breathy laughter, placing your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

"Are you sure, baby?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with delight.

"Yes, I'm sure handsome, but I have one condition!" You warn him, arching a fluffy brow.

"Name your price, sweetheart," he smirks at you through the whiskers of his full moustache.

"I get to tell Ellie," You beam back at him, your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers scractching lightly at the curls that have formed there.

"I think she'd like that," he ghosts against your lips, lightly brushing his nose against your own until you lean up and crush your mouth to his.

Three years later...

It has been a hectic few weeks for the community in Jackson, working through yet another savage winter. You were just through the middle of it, and the end was in sight. The snow storms were not as frequent and the winds were not as wild.

Work has been keeping you busy. You are still the main bartender at the Tipsy Bison, but much to Joel's dismay, you have also picked up a few patrol shifts to lend a hand to Tommy as a few of the older patrol crew stepped back into other work duties due to ill health.

It has felt like months since you and Joel have spent any quality time together, despite living in the same house and working in the same community. Whenever you were both home, he seemed distant and preoccupied, as if there was somewhere else he wanted to be. You tried to engage him in conversation, but he would only give you short answers before retreating into his own thoughts.

At first, you thought that he might just be stressed out from work duty or the weather, as bad as it has been, but as the days turned into weeks, you started to feel a growing sense of unease. You have never seen Joel act this way before, not with you at least, and you don't know what to do.

You miss his closeness; the late-night conversations at the bar while you finished up your shift—all of that has stopped, and no matter how many hours you spent trying to figure out why, you always came up blank.

So needless to say, you were looking forward to spending some quality time with Ellie this evening to help take your mind off your worries. You had stood under the shower for longer than you intended, just enjoying how the steaming water rolled down your tense frame.

With a sigh, you shut off the water and wrapped yourself in your towel, headed into your bedroom to get dressed, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that the house had heating, an especially rare commodity with the world's current condition. Jackson really was a paradise of sorts.

"Ellie! C'mon kiddo, we're going to be late for the movie!," You shout from the bottom of the stairs, shrugging into your winter jacket.

Movie night Fridays have quickly become a tradition for you and Ellie, especially now that the winter has rolled back around and it's too cold to spend much time outdoors.

"Alright, I'm coming; Jesus, keep your hair on!" Ellie mutters as she makes her way down the stairs, where you wait for her.

"We only have 20 minutes before the film starts, and I know you're going to want to get snacks, so we've got to make tracks." You laugh as she rolls her eyes at you.

"Alright Mom," she mocks, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"You're such a little shit, you know that, right?" You tell her fondly with a warm smile.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," she grins.

"Ah, I see, and does Dina know all about your charm?" You playfully jab her ribs with your elbow, wagging your brows up and down.

"Ugh, you're so annoying; you know that, right?" Ellie counters, always so quick-witted.

"I know, it's all part of my charm," You repeat her words back to her, earning another eye roll.

The two of you leave the house and trudge out into the snow; thankfully, the blizzard has calmed, and now fat, fluffy flakes of snow flurry around you like something from a movie scene.

As brutal as they can be, you have never seen anything more beautiful than Jackson in the winter. It was like something you would see on a postcard of a ski village in the French Alps, all timber buildings and string lights illuminating the small town.

On Friday nights, the mess hall was turned into a makeshift movie theatre for the youth that lived in the commune, offering them some respite from the grind of daily life. It was complete with candy, drinks, and, of course, pop corn.

At first, Ellie hadn't seemed all that interested in going, not knowing many kids her age, but after a lot of coaxing and the promise that if she didn't like it, she didn't have to go again or even stay for the full movie, Though she quickly found her feet with Dina, the rest was really history.

"Where's Joel tonight? I thought he was going to come with us." Ellie asked curiously.

"Oh shit, I meant to tell you earlier; he said Tommy asked him to cover the evening patrol tonight, so he can't make it." You explained, not really sure why Tommy needed him to cover after already doing the afternoon patrol, but it must have been important, so you didn't give it a second thought.

You and Ellie walk in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful walk through town. You were about to ask her how she was getting on with her work detail when she came to a standstill.

"I thought you said Joel was on patrol tonight?" she demanded, her face contorting in confusion.

"Uh yeah, Ellie, I just told you that." You confirm, your own confusion mirroring hers.

"Then what the fuck is he doing in the bar?" She fumes, gesturing behind you to the window of the Tipsy Bison.

Sure enough, there he sits at the bar with Jenna. Joel was nursing a whisky, and she was playfully peeling back the homemade label of her beer bottle. They are sitting in the corner booth by the window, leaning towards each other to the point where their heads are far too close to be appropriate.

In that moment, your breathing stopped. Your stomach sank to the floor, and an overwhelming sense of panic and dread began to claw viciously from your chest up your throat, resting heavy on your tongue.

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks nervously, not really sure what to do or say in this situation. It could be nothing, but even to her, it definitely looked like something.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Ellie, why don't you go on down to the mess hall, and I'll meet you there in a few?" You tell her more than ask, your eyes never leaving the window.

"No way fuck that I'm staying with you!" she demands, her eyes growing wet around her long lashes.

"No, Ellie, I need to talk to Joel; I will catch up with you in a few, okay?" You meet her eyes and nod in the direction of the mess hall. She only nods in response; your tone is final as she turns on her heel and storms towards the makeshift movie theatre.

What the fuck is happening right now? You trusted Joel; it never bothered you when the ladies in Jackson would bat their eyes at him or when their glances lingered a little too long. You took it as a compliment; hell, if you were them, you would stare too.

Your relationship was built on a foundation of honesty and trust from the very beginning. You have told him things you have never shared with another living soul, and he has done the same with you. Never in your life did you think you would be lucky enough to share a connection with someone the way you have with Joel, let alone after the world had ended.

And now here you stand in the middle of town, watching the man you love cosy up with another woman in plain sight, not even having the decency to try and hide it from you.

You stand there for another few minutes, watching how he leans across the table to talk to her, laughing and caressing his arm in response. It sets fire to your blood, and you can feel it moving like molten lava in your veins.

You're moving before you realise you have made the decision to do so, your feet carrying you furiously forward, up to the short creaking steps and through the entrance to the bar, and then there you are, looming over their table. Your eyes bore holes into his skull. He jumps in his seat and scrambles frantically to hide the notebook that was sitting open on the table between them. You didn't pay it a second glance.

"I didn't realise the bar needed patrolling this evening," you state pointedly at him, ignoring Jenna, who is doing everything she can to avoid eye contact with you, fidgeting in her seat, and clambering to get her things together. Grabbing her coat and scarf from beside her.

"Hey darlin, I thought you and Ellie were heading to the movies." He asks, his voice rough with his attempts to hide his nerves.

"We were on our way there when she saw this cosy scene from the street." You gesture with your hand towards the table, your voice icy as you let your hand drop to your side with an audible slap, which made Jenna flinch.

"I think I'm going to head out…" Jenna murmurs in a small, quiet voice, still avoiding your gaze.

"That is a wise decision" You agreed without taking your eyes of Joel.

She throws Joel a cryptic glance before clambering out of her seat and quickly making her way to the door, shooting Joel an apologetic glance over her shoulder, which only fuels the rage bubbling up in your throat.

"What the fuck?" You growl at him, doing your best to keep your voice under control. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Especially not at your workplace, regardless of whether you were on shift or not.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks, genuinely confused by your anger.

"Please tell me you're joking," you seethe.

"What? I can't have a drink with a friend." He scoffs, incredulous.

"Seriously Joel? Since when have you had to lie about working to have a drink with a friend?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?" he countered, avoiding the question.

"No, I really don't think I am. How could you do this? How could you do this in front of Ellie?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Joel huffs back at you, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes begin to prick with anger fuelled tears; the feeling of betrayal rips through you, leaving you exposed to his hard gaze. You can't take any more of this. It feels like the room is closing in around you. That you will suffocate if you don't leave right now. You look at him once more, and the fact that he hasn't denied it or assured you that this is anything other than what you fear it to be ,allows your world to crumble around you.

"Alright," you manage in a broken whisper that comes out as a choked sob.

With that, you turn and bolt for the door, desperately gasping for air but unable to get enough to fill your lungs. You have to brace yourself on the railing of the porch. You can feel his eyes on you as he watches you leave from where he sits frozen at the table, but he makes no move to follow after you.

Willing your legs to move, you push off the railing and slowly make your way to the mess hall, slipping in just as the movie is starting. You can see Ellie is sitting in the middle of the crowded room, and she has saved you a seat beside her.

You make your way to the restroom, taking in your reflection for the first time that evening. Your face is red and splotchy from crying, your eyes puffy, and your lips swollen from your teeth worrying at them. With shaking hands, you reach out to turn the tap on, splashing the icy cold water over your face as you try to make sense of what has just unfolded.

You knew Jenna; she is one of the few people trained in blacksmithing in Jackson, but you had never been especially close with her. She would frequent the bar and chat with you about her work day and vice versa, but that was the extent of your relationship with her, and you have never seen Joel interact with her. It just didn't make sense; why would he throw everything away for a fling with someone who lives in the same commune? Did he really think you wouldn't find out?

You do your best to shake the thoughts from your head, focused on spending the rest of the evening with Ellie, you will do everything in your power to shelter her from this. So with a deep breath, you put a smile on your face and left the restroom, smiling and waving politely at familiar faces as you made your way to your seat, stopping by the makeshift concession stand to grab Ellie some popcorn and a soda on your way.

"Hey, I've got you some snacks, kiddo." You whisper to her, not wanting to interrupt the film.

"Thanks, are you okay?" She murmered with a small smile. Taking the snacks from your outstretched hands.

"Yes, of course everything's fine; there was a mix-up with the patrols, so Joel didn't have to work tonight after all." You reassured her softly.

It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.

It cut you to the bone to have to lie to her to cover up his indiscretion because you didn't want her to think any less of him. He is her world, and she is his, and you wouldn't be the one to jeopardise that.

You weren't really sure what movie was even playing tonight, so lost in your thoughts that it was just a blurry hum in the background. Ellie had to nudge your shoulder several times to tell you that the movie had was over. Glancing around to find a steady stream of people filing out of the mess hall.

"Sorry, Ellie, I'm just a bit distracted tonight; work has been so hectic recently, and I have so much to do when I open tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off. Hoping that she will let it go and that she wasn't being as observant tonight as she usually is. The girl misses nothing.

"It's okay, the film was a repeat anyway," she shrugs, not pressing you on the matter, though you know all too well that the questions will come eventually.

"Shall we head home? It sounds like it's getting pretty rough out there," you noted, as another howl of wind wipped around the wooden building.

"Sounds good; I want to have a shower before Joel uses all the hot water again," she ribs in a peel of bright laughter that sends warmth radiating through your now hollow chest.

When you reach the house, you find it in darkness. Joel hasn't made it home yet, and although you are beyond angry, you can't help but worry about him. Of course he can look after himself, but it isn't like him to be out this late if he wasn't on patrol.

The seething voice in the back of your head reminds you that he could be with her. You try to push those thoughts out of your head, but they linger like a dark cloud, casting a grim shadow over what was your perfect - or as perfect as it could be - life.

"I'm going for a shower and then head to bed, you okay?" Ellie asks, once again pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, of course, kiddo, no worries. Do you need anything? You want some tea?" You offer as you head to the stove and place a pot of water on to boil.

"No, I'm good. Thanks though, g'night!" She calls over her shoulder, and then you are alone in the small kitchen.

"Night kiddo," You call quietly to her as you reach for the herbal tea blend that you and Ellie grew in your little garden last summer.

As you wait for the water to boil, your mind starts to race with worry and anxiety. You can't help but think of all the possible scenarios that could be keeping Joel out this late, and the thought of him being with another woman makes you want to break things. You have tried to push those thoughts out of your head so many times this evening, but they keep creeping back.

A few hours later, you are sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, desperately fighting to keep your eyes open, but in the end you give up, gently placing your book on the coffee table and removing the blanket from your lap. You look at the clock on the wall, and it's just after 3am.

You pad into the kitchen and leave your mug in the sink, too tired to wash it now; that's tomorrow's problem. Heading up the creaky stairs to your bedroom and crawling into the cold sheets. It feels wrong going to bed without Joel by your side, but he is god knows where right now, so you lean over, turn the bedside lamp off, and sink into a restless, uneasy sleep.

You wake to the wintery morning sunshine seeping through your bedroom window. Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Instinctively, you run your hand across Joel's side of the bed; it's unmade but cold, so he did come home last night, but he was up before you, which is unusual.

Slowly sitting up in bed, you stretch your tired bones, sore from your restless few hours of sleep, and swing your legs out of bed. It's only 7 a.m.; you don't usually open the bar until midday, so you have plenty of time to get ready.

You slink down the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie as you do so. Heading into the kitchen mid-yawn, you stop in your tracks as you find Joel standing at the stove, hovering over a pot of boiling water on the closest ring to him.

"Mornin'," he husks without turning; he must have heard you yawning with his good ear to the doorway.

You ignore him, knowing full well that it's petty and childish and ultimately will not resolve anything, but with the way he behaved last night, you feel the cold shoulder is justified.

You both continue with your morning rituals in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but you didn't know where to begin broaching the subject, and the more you stewed over it, the more you felt he should be the one to open the conversation with an explanation, but if you were being totally honest with yourself, you were beginning to worry that you may have jumped to conclusions.

But when you thought about the way they were huddled together, her hand on his arm, and the way she tipped her head back in laughter at each thing he said, the pit in your stomach grew. As did the silence between you.

Things went on like this for days, with the two of you skirting around each other and avoiding eye contact. Only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary, like dinner times, and giving each other your work duties for the week.

You could see the effect this was having on Ellie; she has been especially quiet the last few days, so once Joel leaves for work, you sit with her on the couch and try to get her to open up.

"Ellie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

"I don't know. You and Joel have been acting weird lately, and it's making me tense." She shrugs, not meeting your gaze.

You take a deep breath, knowing that you can't keep avoiding the issue. "Yeah, we've been having some problems. But it's nothing you need to worry about, kiddo."

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she retorts. "You guys haven't spoken in days. It's not like you."

"I know, Ellie. I just don't know how to fix it." You sigh.

"Maybe you could start by talking to him," she suggests.

"It's not that simple, Ellie. There's a lot going on." You shake your head.

"Well, maybe it would help if you talked to me about it," she offers.

"Thanks, Ellie. But it's not something I can really discuss with you. Just know that Joel and I are working through some things and we'll get through it." You smile softly at her, grateful for her kindness.

She nods, not looking convinced but not pressing the issue. You sit in silence for a moment before she stands up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit. Need to clear my head."

"Okay, kiddo. Be safe," you say, watching her leave.

You're left alone in the quiet house, the weight of your problems still heavy on your shoulders. You know Ellie is right; you need to talk to Joel. But the thought of confronting him is daunting, and you don't know if you want to hear what he has to say.

What if he doesn't want you anymore? What if he's not happy and hasn't been for a while?

You decide that enough is enough. After work this evening, you are going to speak to him and attempt to clear the air, hear his side of the story, and try to move forward, if not for the sake of your relationship but for Ellie. It's not fair to have this weighing on her shoulders; it's not her fault, and you hate seeing her unhappy, and you know that Joel will feel the same about his if nothing else.

The workday drags on uneventfully; the only thing standing out was that Jenna had come to the bar for the first time since that evening. She gave you a small smile, and you returned it with a polite nod. You were at work after all and took it upon yourself to remain as professional as possible.

Jenna approaches the bar and orders her usual, which you pour for her without issue, though it makes your skin itchy to be this close to her.

"Have you spoken to Joel yet?" she asks quietly. Wiping her fingertips across the bartop.

You stare at her blankly; the audacity of this woman boggles your mind.

"No," you respond curtly.

"Okay, well, when you do, come and find me. We'll have a lot to discuss." She states matter-of-factly, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

Before you have the chance to give her a piece of your mind, she is walking away from the bar, her long auburn hair swishing to her lower back. What the fuck is her problem?

You try to get through the rest of your day without dwelling on the conversation you had with Jenna, focusing more on the impending conversation you are going to have with Joel this evening. Thinking about what you were going to say to him, how you were going to explain how you felt, and how hurt you have been over the last few days.

You lock up the bar and head towards home for the evening, taking a little more time than you usually would, feet dragging, dreading the fight that would likely ensue once you had spoken to him. You tell yourself you will keep a level head, but you know deep down your temper would not allow that to happen if he gave you some bullshit excuse.

As you approach the small, snow-covered pathway that leads to the back porch of your home, you pause there, unable to bring yourself to go inside. So you take a seat on the second step and watch the flurries of fluffy snow as they make their way through the air to join the pillowy blanket that covers everything in sight.

You sit there for what feels like hours. Jackson was always quiet; it needed to be in order to keep what you have here safe, but as you sit in the darkness, the only light coming from the dim porch light and the light seeping through the thin linen curtains from the living room, it feels eerily silent and still. The sound of the backdoor creaking open made you jump. The heavy footsteps that followed, however, were all too familiar.

"You gonna stay out here all night?" He asked quietly, his voice low and soft.

"No, I was just… well, I don't really know what I was doing." You offer a small laugh, void of any humour.

Joel takes a few steps and groans loudly as he lowers himself to join you where you sit. He is quiet for a few moments until he finally speaks.

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the other night and how it must have looked. I'm sorry for not explaining to you then and there what it was; I didn't want to tell you, and I still don't really. But I promise you on my life that it is not what you think it is, Darlin," he says softly, regret heavy in his tone.

"I don't understand Joel; I just want to understand what the fuck has been going on," you pleaded, hating how desperate your voice sounded.

"I know, baby, and I'm going to tell you. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. I also didn't want to tell you without speaking to Ellie first, but I spoke to her at dinner, and now she understands." He assures you, his hand coming up to brush your cold cheek for the first time in days, and it was impossible not to lean into the heat of his palm.

"Okay, so now everyone knows but me, why were you all cozied up with Jenna? Why did you lie to me about going to work?" You challenged him, removing your face from his touch.

"Hold on," he huffs, shifting his weight to one hip as he fishes for something in his back pocket before continuing. "It will make more sense once you see this, or I hope it will at least," he offers as he hands you a beaten-up, leather-bound note book.

"What is this?" You ask him, you remember seeing it on the table in the bar the other night.

"Would you just open it?" he sighs, rubbing his hand through his patchy whiskers nervously.

You do as he says and open the notebook, and what you find takes you aback. The notebook is filled almost front to back with little sketches of rings and little notes about different metals and gems in his familar handwriting and another that you don't recognize.

"Wh-what is this?" You repeat, stunned. So many thoughts racing through your mind and you are beggining to realise that you have completely misread the situaiton the other night.

"I know I was going to have to tell you about it eventually, you know for your size and all but I was planning to do that after I asked you…but then with the other night I wasn't sure what to say and I was kind of pissed off that you where angry at me, I didn't stop to think that you weren't in on the secret and what it must have looked like to you," Joel's hand came to rest on your knee squeezing reassuringly as he explained the circumstances that lead to what you saw in the bar.

"I have been meeting up with Jenna over the last few weeks, she's the only blacksmith in Jackson that used to make jewelry…specifically engagement rings," he paused allowing his words to sink in before finishing his explination.

"We've been trying to figure out how to make you one, what metals mix well from what I have found on supply runs, whether to hold off if I could find a stone or a gem, or if we could make it without one,"

You stare at him, a mix of astonishment and disbelief washing over you. The pieces start to fall into place, and you realize the truth behind Joel's actions. The anger and hurt that had consumed you begin to melt away, replaced by a flood of emotions, the most promanent being embarrassment.

"You were planning to… ask me?" you stutter, your voice barely a whisper. The weight of your accusation hangs heavy in the air as you struggle to comprehend the situation.

"Yeah, I was. I've been saving up for months, looking for the right opportunity, and I wanted it to be a surprise. Jenna's been helping me because she's skilled at crafting intricate pieces. I wanted to make something special for you, something that would last a lifetime." Joel nods, his eyes filled with sincerity.

Tears well up in your eyes as the realization of your mistake dawns upon you. You reach for Joel's hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Oh, Joel, I'm so sorry," you say, your voice trembling. "I jumped to conclusions without knowing the whole story. I never thought…I feel like such a peice of shit, I'm so sorry"

"It's okay, darlin'. I should've communicated better, explained everything to you beforehand. I understand why you were upset." He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

"But why did you lie about going to work?" you inquire, still wanting to grasp every detail.

"We thought it would be best if we kept it a secret until it was ready. And I didn't want you to suspect anything. I wanted the proposal to be a surprise, and I was afraid if I told you I was hanging out with Jenna, you'd figure it out before I had the chance." He shrugged.

"Joel, I can't believe you're doing this. You've put so much thought and effort into making something special for us. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. I have been so awful to you over the last few days," You let out a shaky breath, your heart filled with a strange mix of relief, shame and joy.

A soft smile graces Joel's lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "Don't say that, sweetheart. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. I love you more than anything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tears stream down your face now, but they're tears of happiness. You lean in and rest your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you. The weight of the misunderstanding lifts, leaving behind a newfound sense of trust and appreciation.

"I love you too, Joel," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch and for overreacting. I should have known you'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Hey, we all make mistakes, darlin'. It wouldn't be the first time I've got pissed at you for something I misunderstood now is it?." he chuckles quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I guess no ones perfect," you echo his laughter leaning into him further.

As you sit together on the porch steps, surrounded by the beauty of the snowfall, you realize that the snow isn't the only thing that's melting. The icy barriers that had formed between you and Joel are slowly thawing away, leaving behind a comfortable quiet.

"So, now that the cats out of the bag, will you…?" he asks his deep voice thick with emotion.

"Will I what handsome?" You look up at him teasing, your eyes twinkling.

A playful grin tugs at the corners of Joel's mouth as he meets your gaze. "Will you marry me, my beautiful, stubborn, and occasionally misunderstood partner in crime?" he asks, his voice laced with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and a surge of excitement courses through you. You pretend to ponder his question, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I don't know, Joel. I mean, after all that's happened, can I really trust you with my heart?" you tease, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel feigns a look of hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, come on now. I've endured snowball fights, kitchen mishaps, you and Ellie ganging up on me and even your questionable taste in movies. If that's not true love, I don't know what is."

Laughter bubbles up from within you, and you lean in closer, pressing your forehead against his. "Joel, you are my love and my rock. Of course, I'll marry you," you say, your voice filled with so much love.

In that peaceful moment, wrapped in the calm of the snowfall and the safety of his strong arms, you realize that there will be silly arguments, misunderstandings and cold shoulders, but you will always find your way back to each other. You let out a sigh of contentment as Joel presses silent kisses against your head, happy to sit here forever wrapped up in him.

Knowing that Joel and Ellie will forever be your guiding lights.

[hederasgarden]

May I please request "You heard me. Take. It. Off.” with Mafia Jake Seresin? (make it as dark as you'd like!)

This got…wildly, unexpectedly dark guys. 

Pairing: Mafia boss!Jake Seresin  x F!Reader  Word Count: 1.3K Warning: Threats of violence (sexual and physical), mafia themes, and a very not in character Jake (basically just a dude wearing his face). Some themes are not tagged. A/N: I’m gonna need you guys to be gentle with me on this one. It is my first foray into writing darker content. I have zero idea if this is the vibe you guys were wanting or not. 😅 Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

You can tell something’s wrong when Rooster arrives to collect you from your desk at reception. He usually greets you with a joke and a smile, leaning over the divider to flirt with you, but today his expression is all business.

“The boss wants to see you.”

If his demeanor wasn’t enough to raise alarm bells, his choice of words certainly is. The Boss— not Jake or Hangman. A wave of anxiety rushes through your chest, settling like a stone in your gut. 

“Of course,” you reply brightly, trying to mask your nerves. “Let me just grab my phone and notepad.”

“Leave them,” he instructs. “Just you.”

“I’m not getting fired, am I?” you ask, letting a hint of genuine anxiety slip into your voice. You school your expression into that of the wide-eyed, ditzy front desk girl whose only concern is keeping her job. They can’t discover who you really are. 

“I know I lost that package last week, but Bob said it was okay,” you lament, trying to stall. “Am I in trouble?”

“I was just told to get you,” Rooster replies tersely. 

As you round the desk to pass him, he grabs your bicep with a tight grip. You stumble to keep up with his brisk pace in your heels, but he doesn’t slow down, almost dragging you across the bustling warehouse floor. Though none of the workers look up as you pass, you can feel their eyes on you. By the time you arrive at Jake’s office your hands are shaking and you feel like you might actually throw up. It’s a struggle to push through the panic and remember your training. But eventually you do, plastering on a pleasant but confused expression. You have to play your role, your life could depend on it. 

Jake watches you from behind his desk, his dark green eyes cutting over your figure before moving behind you. He jerks his head and the door closes. You’re alone with him and you swallow, throat bobbing in instinctive expression of fear. 

“Mr. Seresin…” your words trail off when he raises his hand. 

“I’ll admit, it took me a while to see it,” he says, his attention focused on unbuttoning his cuffs to roll up his sleeves and reveal inked skin. “Do you want to know what gave you away?” he asks. 

Something, somewhere went terribly wrong you realize. He knows who you are.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t understand what’s going on. If this is about the package…”

He fixes you with a withering look, the tick in his jaw at odds with the calmness of his demeanor. “Don’t,” he says softly. 

You fall silent and hold your hands together in front of you, toying with the bracelet on your left wrist. Hidden within the heart-shaped charm is your panic button. You press it and force yourself to stay still; it won’t take your team long to respond. You just needed to keep things from escalating.

“It was your eyes that gave you away,” he continues. “You fluttered your lashes and swayed those hips with the best of them, but it’s hard to mask that kind of intelligence.” 

When you don’t react to his words, his grin disappears. “I’m paying you a compliment, sweetheart. Say thank you.”

Years of training urge you to maintain your cover, but deep down, you know it's pointless. The past three months with Jake Seresin have taught you that he doesn’t like being deceived. You know keeping up the pretense will only make him angrier.

“Coming from you, that’s no compliment,” you say, sounding more composed than you feel.  

As a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Something is very wrong. Everything about this conversation feels off —from his calm, measured tone to the deliberate, unhurried pace of it all.  He should be worried, even scared, at finding a cop in his operation. 

“Let’s skip over the part where I ask if you’re wearing a wire and you lie to me,” Jake says, moving to stand in front of his desk. You instinctively take a step back but he simply looks at you, making no move toward you. Instead, he casually leans back, crossing one leg over the other. “Take off your dress.”

The abrupt shift in conversation and his tone have your mind spinning to keep up. “What?” you ask uselessly. 

"You heard me. Take. It. Off.” You stand rooted to the spot and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I’ll do it for you if you prefer.”

You glance at the clock on his desk. It’ll be at least another 10 minutes before backup arrives, and a lot could happen between now and then, none of it good. 

“No, no. I’ll do it,” you’re quick to say, desperate to maintain some sense of control over the situation. 

With trembling fingers, you reach for the zipper on the back of your dress, moving deliberately slow to buy yourself a few extra seconds, though you know you can't delay the inevitable. You hunch forward, raising your shoulders to let the fabric slip down your arms. As the dress pools at your feet, you step out of it, leaving yourself in just your undergarments. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you stand there, shivering and exposed.

“There’s no wire,” you tell him, jutting out your chin. 

Jake grins, reaching into his pocket. “I know. You’re far too clever for that.”  

One by one, he pulls out the tiny bugs you had hidden in his office and the warehouse, letting them fall to the floor. As he grinds them under the heel of his Italian loafers, you can only stare at him in stunned silence.

“Right about now you’re trying to figure out how to stall me long enough for your team to get here. Am I right?” He asks.

You shake your head, terror swimming in your veins.  If he knew about your panic button, then—

“It’s shockingly easy to get a cell phone jammer these days,” Jake tells you. 

He pushes off his desk and you scramble back, body coiled and ready for a fight but, to your surprise, Jake stops a few feet in front of you. He picks up your dress. 

“I want you to remember this feeling,” he says, gaze wandering over your exposed skin. “I want you to remember that I can do whatever I want with you. You’re powerless here.”

He tosses your dress at you. “Put it on,” he demands. You stand frozen and unsure of what game he’s playing. “Or not. I don’t mind.” He adds, his smirk making your stomach flip unpleasantly. 

You scramble to redress. Once you’re clothed again, you still feel vulnerable. 

“Now that you understand the score, let’s talk about how you’re going to help me.”

You stare at him in confusion. 

“LAPD’s personnel files are shockingly easy to hack into,” he reveals, picking up a folder on his desk and thumbing through the pages. “Rooster’s on the way to pay your grandmother a visit,” he informs you.

The anxiety and fear you experienced before pales in comparison to the overwhelming terror that grips you as you come to a horrifying realization: it’s not just your own safety that’s at stake. You’ve damned your poor, sweet, elderly grandmother who thinks you still have a desk job at the precinct. 

“I wonder if she’ll offer him those same homemade cookies she gave me when I stopped by,” Jake asks with a smile. 

Send me a request

[luwritesomething]

hi!! i'm not sure if you'd be comfortable with this, but would you be able to do something with billy loomis x reader where the reader is possibly plus sized and has old sh scars? if you're not comfortable with the last part i understand.

Billy Loomis x Reader: draw stars around my scars

Warnings: Swearing (probably), self-harm topics, self-harm scars, reader did self-harm but now is better, bad reaction at first, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS ARE GOING TO TRIGGER YOU.

Tags: healing, reader can be read as plus size, reader has stretch marks, reader has self-harm scars, projecting heavily

Reader pronouns: Non stated.

Word count: 1122

Summary: Billy sees Reader's self harm scars for the first time, on accident.

Author’s note: hi, thank you for requesting! this was healing to write, to be honest. as someone who dealt with self-harm for very long years, all i can say is that it does get better, you have to believe for a better way out for yourself and be very focused on your goal on staying clean. no one deserves to hurt themselves, i promise. if any of you reading this is at a very bad moment, if you self-harm, please know that my inbox and dms are always open for you to rant, even if we've never ever talked before. you can send whatever you want, do it with anonimity if you want through my inbox. but please, know that you're not alone. please, you need to do your best to get help, and if you can't, you must believe in yourself.

i never got help, and i'm still here, and honestly, i thought i would have ended all of this more than two years ago. please, please, stay strong. find your passion, stick to it. i'm leaving this my chemical romance song, because they really got me through my worst times, and the lyric "I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scars. Give a cheer for all the broken. Listen here, because it's who we are." really resonated with me and made me believe there was more than hurt. i'm always here for you <3

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, mickey altieri, kirby reid, chad meeks martin, mindy meeks martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko and laura crane.

Having Billy over wasn’t weird, in fact, you had grown so used to him sleeping around and staying until very late hours in your bedroom, that not having him there sometimes got lonely and awkward. You didn’t know much about the situation between his parents other than they had been fighting a lot lately, but that was enough, and you didn’t need to know more to offer a place for him to stay.

That night, you had just come out of the shower with the warm towel around your body when you heard some sounds outside your window. They were the kind of sounds stones made against wood, the kind of sounds Billy made to let you know he was outside, but you still got closer to the window to check if it was him. You saw him outside, with his denim jacket closed around his torso and his hand holding little stones he had gathered around your garden, waiting for you. When he saw you, he waved slowly and gestured to the window, for you to open it.

Making him a sign to wait, you stepped away from the window and hurried to put some clothes on before opening the window for him to climb and enter your bedroom. You settled for a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, leaving the towel on top of your bed so you could finally let him enter.

Once you opened the window, you stepped back knowing he would climb up without any difficulty — he had really grown to master the art of climbing through your window. Billy was fast, and no longer holding the stones since you had finally realized he was outside, he appeared by your window and jumped inside with ease. 

“I’ve been outside for fifteen minutes.” He grunted as he cleaned his palms against his jeans, then pushed the rebel strands of his black hair away from his eyes.

“I was showering, I didn’t hear you.”

That made him look up, that little but still sweet smile of his appearing in his lips because God, did he like being with you — and it disappeared when his eyes landed on a particular place on your thighs, and you knew what he was looking at as soon as his eyes snapped back onto yours, something close to rage filling them up.

You had always been so careful hiding your scars. Lately, it was more because of not wanting to have difficult and awkward conversations and not because of being a constant in your life — the self-harming had stopped some time ago already, you had outgrown it, realizing that hurting yourself was something that you did not deserve. The scars were tricky to see, considering they were placed high on your thighs, and even if you wore regular shorts they were almost impossible to see, but these cotton shorts were shorter than usual. 

“Billy—”

“Tell me you’re not doing any of that shit to yourself.” He demanded, and his voice sounded as cold as ice, as hard as steel. Billy wasn’t going easy on this, and you didn’t expect less out of him.

“It was a long time ago.” You said, your voice remaining calm. It was for a few seconds, but your eyes followed him in the path to your thighs, to the scars matching the stretch marks. They were part of you now. “I’m alright now.”

The breath that Billy let out was shaky, which surprised you. He got a step closer to you, then regretted and backed away slightly. You knew his eyes were now scanning your arms, and you knew that, if he looked hard enough, he could also see the ones there — that, or you were the only one who could see the invisible traces the razor had carved into your skin in your worst moments, which was also possible. Some sights were impossible to forget.

“You are okay?” Billy asked softly, with a reason to doubt you. You had been dating him for months, being friends for years, but you still hadn’t told him — you had let him figure it out, by accident. 

You nodded. “I promise. I am. I’m clean, I’ve been clean for more than a year.”

Billy nodded slowly, almost like he wasn’t paying attention — but you knew he was. His steps were quick when he walked towards you and pulled you into a swift, loose hug, his chin resting on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms tight around him. You wished you could go back and show that moment to your past self, as a promise that everything would work out, that you deserved better. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked in a whisper, and if you didn’t know him better, you could have sworn his voice was strained with emotion. It was. “I could’ve… fuck. Don’t ever do that again, please.”

“I know, I know, it was just…” You shook your head and let yourself hug him a little bit tighter. “It was difficult, bad timing and all… I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry I wasn’t there—”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

Billy pulled back slightly from you, looking into your eyes in earnest. “It’s not yours either.”

You smiled softly, and caressed his cheek with tenderness written all over your face. You hadn’t loved anyone more in your whole life. “I know.” You said, nodding your head, and it was true.

Billy watched you again, carefully, from head to toe, and only closed his eyes once he convinced himself that you were alright. It wasn’t something violent to see, it was calming — his worry for you, although at first rather rough and unmoving, healed the open wounds in you that always tried to lead you back into your old ways. The sickness of the addiction had been the worst, wanting to stay clean but slumping again, and again and again, but you were better now. You should have believed when you had heard that things would get better.

In silence, Billy pointed at your bed with his head, as his hand slid into yours firmly but softly. You only nodded, and put the towel away before you two slid into your covers. His hand wrapped around your hips, and it took you a little to realize that his fingers were deftly tracing your scars around, small tickles caressing your skin.

“I’m okay.” You muttered with a little smile on your lips, looking up to him.

Billy hummed lightly, and his lips came to your forehead, kissing you tenderly. You searched for his free hand and shifted around to find a comfortable position, snuggling against him, and feeling calm for the little, incoherent drawings his fingers made into your skin.

[earthtooz]

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now that we're done with the rules, come join us > MASTERLISTS

[something-tofightfor]

Competing For Christmas 9: Here Comes Santa Claus

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 

Rating: E. It’s happening.

Summary: 12,336

Din still being in Mistletoe is just so he can keep his promise to say goodbye, right? 

Author’s notes:

Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for all of the yelling in comments and reblogs and in my DMs. 

We’re almost at the end - and I’m starting to get sad about it. 

This chapter is a massive thank you - and a very late Christmas present from me to you. 

** Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter. ** 

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares​ and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Masterlist  / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2 / Din’s POV Interlude / Part 6.1 / Part 6.2 / Part 7 / Part 8

We need to talk? “Yeah, Din. We do.” You pulled on Grogu’s leash, urging the dog forward and toward his owner. 

As the two of you neared the man, the dog began to whine. 

You glanced up at Din and the man nodded twice, so you let go of the leash and then stopped moving. You watched as Grogu went back to Din, taking a seat by his feet and then settling his paws in the thin layer of snow that covered the ground. “Sheber olar, Grogu.”

It got quiet then, and as the flakes continued to swirl around you, you realized that you didn’t know what to say - or what to expect. “Are … Do you want to talk here, or -”

“I’m sorry.” He tilted his head back, letting out a long sigh. “My truck’s parked down the street, we can go sit there, if you want.” You did. In fact, you wanted nothing more than to sit in the warm cab and let Din say what he needed to say, but at the same time, you didn’t want to have to walk away from him when the conversation was done. 

“Did you come here to tell me goodbye?” It came out before you’d thought it through, and in the silence that followed the words, you began to understand just how much you didn’t want to hear the answer. “Because if you did, I don’t know how you knew I was even here.” 

“You weren’t home yet.” He pressed his lips together, head shaking back and forth. “And while I was driving home from driving by your place, I remembered the text you sent about coming to see the tree with Gogu. I wanted to stop before …” He trailed off. Before you leave. Before it’s too late. “But then I saw you sitting on that bench, and it…” 

He was upset - you could see it on his face and hear it in his voice, the man’s words thick with emotion and more broken than you’d ever heard him sound before. At least I’m not the only one upset with this. “Here I am.” You spread your hands wide and a bitter laugh escaped from your lips, one hand rising so that you could pinch the bridge of your nose. “Right where I always am, in the -” 

“Look.” Din sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “We need to talk, but I’d rather not do it in public, if that’s ok. It’s cold out here, and -” 

“Don’t make this harder, Din. you said you’d say goodbye before you left, and now you can. We can do that here. Boba said -”

“Boba and Fennec are on their way back to Mandalore right now.” What? You froze at his words, mouth open in disbelief. They are? “I didn’t go.” 

“Din?” Your voice trembled and so did your bottom lip, a tiny flicker of hope reigniting in your chest. “What?” 

“We need to talk.” He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “Please?” 

“My house is closer than yours.” Is this a good idea? Probably not. But … “Grogu’s more than welcome to come in, too.” 

“I’ll meet you there.” He reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding Grogu’s leash but stopped short, the yellow-tipped fingers of his glove curling back against his palm. “Alright?” 

It was and you told him as much. You also told Din to be careful driving before you turned away from him and headed back toward your car, the thoughts in your head a jumbled mess. 

The warm air from your heater was a relief, though. As you started the short drive back to your house, you tried not to think about what Din’s presence - and what the few words he’d said - could possibly mean. 

Fennec and Boba were gone, but Din wasn’t. He seemed off, but in a way that you couldn’t place. He’d found you - by luck - thanks to an offhand comment you’d made over text. It has to mean something … but what? 

You pulled into your driveway before Din did, opening the garage to park inside. Once parked, you closed your eyes and rested your forehead against the steering wheel, trying to calm yourself. What the fuck is happening? 

You didn’t dare to hope that Din’s continued presence in Mistletoe meant anything good. He probably just asked if he could catch a flight out tomorrow. That has to be it.

His lights flashing on the interior walls of the garage pushed you into action. As he cut his engine you got out of the car, waiting until he and Grogu were inside before you shut the main door and unlocked the one that led into your place.

“Let me get Grogu a bowl of water, and then … Din?” Confused, you turned back to look at him when you felt his hand on your arm. The man stood in the center of your kitchen, his eyes on you. “What are you -” 

“He doesn’t need water.” Din drew his lower lip between his teeth, shaking his head. “He’s fine.” 

“Ok.” Releasing another shaky breath, you reached for your coat and unzipped it, staring at Din. “You can take yours off, too. Even if you’re only here for a few minutes, it …” 

In the light of your kitchen, your eyes were drawn to the sleeve of his jacket - and a well-hidden design of something that looked like a rhinoceros on the man’s right shoulder that was only briefly visible. It’s like Boba’s. But what is it? When Din removed his jacket, you did the same, also bending over to pull your boots off and set them next to the door. 

He followed suit but when he was done, both of you stood motionless in the kitchen, waiting. Grogu definitely isn’t bothered right now. You smiled as the dog left the kitchen, heading into the room with the tree and flopping down in front of it, his legs stretched out as he laid on his side. “At least he’s comfortable.” Forcing a laugh, you pointed. “Do you want to sit?” 

“I …” He spoke, gloveless fingers flexing by his sides. “I don’t…” Oh, Din. You wanted to step forward, wanted to reach out for him, but instead of doing that, you were rooted to the spot, just waiting. “Fuck it.” He moved first, the man’s arms rising and wrapping around you before you could even react. 

He pulled you against his chest, lowering his head to rest his cheek against your hair. Despite your unease at the overall situation, you let him hold you. And you held him back, eyes squeezed shut as the two of you hugged in the center of your kitchen, clinging to each other wordlessly. But we can’t stay like this. We have to … he has something to say. 

It was you that backed away first, pushing gently against his chest to put space between your bodies and meeting his eyes again. “Why are you still here, Din?” 

He didn’t let you go, the man’s hands settling at your waist - but he didn’t speak, either. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, and so you waited, understanding that he needed a few seconds to collect himself. “I needed to see you.” 

He spoke quietly, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds and then reopening them, the look of uncertainty slightly less pronounced. “Well, you see me, Din. Is this what you wanted?” 

“None of this is what I wanted.” He bit his lip, scoffing. “Not a single damn minute of this is…” You moved to pull away but he didn’t let you, the man saying your name and tightening his hold on your hips. “Except for you. The one thing I actually want, and I can’t do a damn thing about it because of what’s expected of me.” 

“I told Boba you’re going to be a good Mand’alor.” You traced over the neckline of his hoodie with one fingertip. “And I meant it. And in a year, these past few weeks won’t … they won’t hurt as much when we think about them, Din. You’ll have your people to worry about. And Mandalore, and I won’t be a -” Does he believe that any of this is true? Because I sure don’t.

“I wanted to come to see you this morning. I wanted to come last night, but Boba, he … he said it wasn’t a good idea. He said he would come and talk to you. He said -”

“I know.” You nodded. “I know, Din. He told you not to reach out until you knew what you wanted to say, and I appreciate that. And I know that I didn’t let you say goodbye last night, but now, I think … It’s time, right?” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes, the sting of them increasingly harder to ignore. “You came here to say goodbye?”

“I came here to explain.” Din pulled you a little closer, the man ducking his head briefly. “I came here to …” He trailed off, looking around the room and then back at you, straightening up and squaring his shoulders. “Can we sit? This might take a minute, and I don’t want to be standing next to your kitchen table while -”

“Yeah.” Tearing yourself out of his hold, you spun away. “We can sit, Din.” I have no idea where he’s going with this. 

Only a few minutes later, the two of you were sitting on your couch, almost a full cushion between you even though you were facing each other. Grogu was snoring quietly, and you couldn’t help smiling at the dog when you glanced in his direction. At least one of us is relaxed. 

“I saw he brought you Spotchka. Did he tell you what it was?”

“He did. Said the three of you used to sneak it in school.” Din smiled at that, agreeing. “I’m thinking about taking it tomorrow, and letting my family try it. At least then I can drink some of it and not have to drink alone. It looks good.” 

“It is good. It’s one of the most popular types of alcohol in Mandalore. It’s one of the things I always had in my refrigerator while I’ve been here. I should have offered you some one of the times you were over.” Well, you didn’t.

“At least I get to taste it now.” You gestured in the direction of the bottle with one hand. “So maybe something good did come out of all this.” 

The room went quiet again, and even though you had plenty you wanted to say, you were unsure where to begin. Because this isn’t about me. This is about him and … and what he has to do. 

“We’re going to release a statement on the first day of the new year about me taking Boba’s place. We’re going to try and get ahead of whatever she’s got planned.” Smart. 

It hit you hard, though - almost like someone had punched you in the stomach. But you still didn’t speak, despite the fact that your head whipped toward Din again. That’s so soon. A week. “And I take it you’ll be back in Mandalore for that.” He nodded. “I’m happy for you, Din.” 

“We’re also going to tell people what I’ve been doing for the last year - that I’ve been here, giving myself a chance to enjoy my life before I devote myself to leading them.” Oh. “Bo Katan will probably release the picture of us then, once she realizes Boba’s not going to give in and name her Mand’alor.” Of course she is.

“Thank you for telling me. At least now I can prepare myself. I can tell my family what to expect, and … it won’t all come as a complete shock to them.” Wetting your lips, you linked your hands together on your lap, pressing your palms flat against each other. “I’ll just need to know what you want me to say if anyone asks. I don’t want to ruin your chances of finding a -” Yes. I do. I don’t want to think about you with anyone else. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me, about James?” Din shifted on the cushion, moving slightly closer to you, though his hands stayed put on his lap, too. “About how you couldn’t justify moving to a new city with him without some sort of … promise that he saw a future with you.”

“I did say that. And I meant it.” Confused, you moved closer, too. “But what does that -”

“I have to go back to Mandalore. I have to do my duty and take my place in the Palace. I owe it to the people and to Boba.” He wasn’t saying anything that you didn’t already know. Part of you wondered if he was saying the words out loud in an attempt to convince himself that they were the truth, and that there was no getting around them. “Do you know why I wanted to come here last night?”

“No.” Lowering your head, you shook it slowly. “I don’t, Din.” 

Din dragged his fingers through his hair and then scratched at his scalp, gripping the back of his head with both hands before he turned his head toward you, saying your name again. When he had your attention, he continued. “I wanted to come here and ask you to come home with me. To Mandalore.” 

It felt like someone had sucked all of the air out of the room. Your entire body froze, hands still in your lap and your lips parted. The only thing that moved were your eyes, and those widened at his words. What? That isn’t… we’ve never … He chuckled at the sight of you, wrinkling his nose. 

“Yeah, that’s about how I thought you’d react.” 

“Din…” Forcing the word out, you reached for him, slightly ashamed to see that your hand was shaking. “What?”

“You were with him for how long, and you still wouldn’t have moved if he’d asked you. You said you needed someone to be able to offer you some sort of future before you could make that kind of decision, and I… I can’t do that. I can’t offer you anything past what you see right here, right now.” 

His fingers closed around yours, the man’s grip tight. I know, Din. “I’m not asking you to. I never would. I understand that you have to go, Din. It’s not easy, but -”

“I want to.” He looked up again, the creases between his brows prominent, lower lip jutting out as he frowned. “I want to be selfish and tell you that I want you to come back with me. To be with me. I want you to understand that this has never just been …” He swore, covering his face with his free hand. “But how can I ask you to move to a different country with me if I can’t promise you anything because I don’t know what’s going to happen over the next six months and beyond? I don’t even know if you’d want to be with me in the first place, so how can -”

“Din, slow down.” Your thumb moved slowly over the back of his hand, trying to calm him - even a little. But now it’s my heart beating fast. Now it’s me that needs to calm down. “This is -”

“And you have a family here. Friends. I can’t ask you to leave them. I can’t just take you halfway across the world and see what happens. What if you hate it there? What happens when you miss your friends? What happens when I’m busy running the fucking country and can’t spend as much time with you as either of us wants?” 

“Din.” You closed your eyes, letting out another shaky breath. “It’s a good thing that you didn’t come last night or this morning and say any of this.” He recoiled like you’d slapped him, and the movement made you wince. “No. Wait. Not because it’s … shit.” You pulled your hand away from his and then covered your face with both of them, trying to steady yourself. Slow. Say what you mean. “I didn’t realize how much it was going to hurt when you had to leave.”

“Neither did I.” You felt his hand then, the man’s fingers closing around your forearm and urging you to lower your hands. “And then Boba told me last night that we needed to leave, and it … everything happened at once.” Yeah. It did. “I knew you were going to your parents’ earlier. And that was another reason I didn’t want to come, because I didn’t … I couldn’t dump this on you and then expect you to just …” He rubbed at his forehead. “Go.” 

You chewed on your lower lip, your eyes wandering from Din to the dog and then to your tree, focusing on the bright little bulbs. He wanted to ask me to go to Mandalore? He’s thought about it? He thought about it enough to… “Din?” He hummed, tilting his head to the right and letting out a deep sigh. “What do you mean that you can’t offer me anything but right here and now?” 

“How can I ask you to leave everything you know for me? We’ve only really gotten to know each other for the last month and a half, and we’re not … we’re not together. You just ended a relationship, and I was lying to you for -”

“Not lying.” Reaching for his hand, you took it and the squeezed. “You were protecting yourself and your friend and your country. And I understand that. Hell, if you’d just come right out and said “I’m basically a prince, and am going to become my country’s version of a king in a few months, so I have to be discreet”, I probably wouldn’t have believed you anyway.” 

“But I kept it from you. You had to -”

“And you told me the truth as soon as I asked you to. It wasn’t a lie because you were trying to deceive me. There’s a difference.” You both went quiet, Grogu’s soft snoring reaching your ears. “Are you … are you even allowed to bring people to Mandalore with you? Would you even be able to date someone like me, or were you just -”

“We’re… I’m allowed to be with whoever I want to be. But that isn’t … it wouldn’t be fair of me to pull you into the middle of this for …” He stood, tearing his hand out of yours and pacing in front of the couch. Grogu lifted his head, whining once, but as soon as Din spoke - one low word, nayc, his left hand raising slightly in a placating gesture - the dog dropped his nose back onto his paws, staring upward. What a good dog. 

What he was saying made sense. Din was trying to do the right thing - the responsible thing - by listening to what you’d told him in the beginning about needing some sort of certainty before deciding to uproot yourself. But it’s not the same. Din isn’t James. He isn’t just looking for … “

“What’s a Mudhorn, Din?” Staring up at him, the words tumbled from your mouth. “Why’d you choose that for our team name? And what… Boba seemed to think it was important. He asked me about it, but I didn’t know what to tell him.” Din stopped pacing, the man’s focus back on you as his eyes widened. 

“He brought it up?” You nodded. 

“Yeah, and then he showed me his … crest, I guess? For his family?” Din nodded slowly. “Din … is the Mudhorn that thing on your coat sleeve? Is it …” The pieces fell into place all at once, your mouth dropping open after you’d trailed off. The Mudhorn’s Din’s sigil. It’s his family crest, it … but he …. That was weeks ago. He didn’t … “You and I didn’t…” 

“I didn’t plan on that. It just … came out. But I wasn’t upset after it happened. And the longer we went on in the competition, and the more I heard people call us Clan Mudhorn, I liked it. It’s just been me and Grogu since I adopted him, and then for the last few weeks, it’s been a clan of three, and …”  A clan of three? And he says we’re not … 

 “I’m honored.” Pressing your lips together, you stared up at him and then patted the cushion next to you. “Please sit back down.” It took a few seconds but he did, leaving only a few inches between your thighs. “It might have just been a temporary thing, but that kind of … inclusion, Din? It means a lot.” 

“It’s supposed to.” He nodded, scoffing. “In Mandalore, one of the customs is to wear the signet of your people. The Mythosaur is meant for all Mandalorians, but individual designations are …”

“Well don’t worry.” You reached over, laying your hand on his knee. “The shirts just said Clan Mudhorn on them. The actual symbol wasn’t -”

“I wear it on my clothes now, and when I become Mand’alor, I get … it’s probably going to sound really weird to you, but I get ceremonial armor with it inlaid.” He tapped his shoulder. “It’ll be here, like it is on my coat now. Grogu’s… you can barely see it, but his collar’s got it stitched into the material. He’ll have a ceremonial something forged, too, probably some sort of lead or maybe a plaque for his travel crate. And my riduur, or wife, if I ever get married would have something made for her, too.” That makes sense. “It’s Mandalorian tradition. Every family has something different to identify them. Clan Djarin is also Clan Mudhorn, but when I take the throne, the whole of Mandalore is under the protection of Clan Mudhorn.” That’s huge. That … that’s a piece of him that …  

“Thank you for including me, even only for a few weeks.” Your voice was quiet, and you couldn’t meet his eyes as you spoke. “It means more to me than …” Wetting your lips, you let out a small huff. “More to me than you could ever know, Din.” 

You were dancing around it - and as the minutes passed, you understood what it was more and more. He said he was going to ask but hasn’t. He said he knows he can’t, but … but I think he wants to. And I … 

You wanted him to ask, but you didn’t want to admit it, because that would make it even worse when he left your house without voicing the question. 

Admitting it made things real, and part of you was desperate to continue believing that with the passage of time and Din’s absence, it would be easier to move past what you felt. But it won’t. Even if he just walks out, this is … nothing’s ever going to be the same.  

“When do you have to leave?” How long do I have until you’re gone? 

“As soon as the plane lands and gets checked out, they’re replacing the pilot and sending it back for me.” He sighed. “So it’ll probably be back here late tomorrow night, and then I’ll leave sometime on the 26th.” Oh. As he spoke, your eyes moved to the clock on the cable box beneath the TV. It’s after 12. 

“It’s Christmas.” Sniffling, you lowered your head. “So the plane will be back tonight and you’ll be gone tomorrow.” And I’ll spend the last day I could have with you pretending to be alright with my parents. “Do you need to go? Do you need to pack? It’s late, and I’m sure you -”

“I don’t want to go.” You heard his voice waver, and when you met his gaze again, it was Din that was holding back tears, the man’s eyes shining. “I don’t want to leave, or -”

“What do you want, then?” You shifted, pushing your shoulders back, head shaking back and forth slowly. “Because -”

“I…” He paused, mouth open as he watched you. “I want…” Din blinked, taking a deep breath, and then you saw his expression change, the light coming back into his eyes. “I want you to come to Mandalore with me and Grogu. I want to show you what life could be like there, with me.” He took another breath, reaching over to settle his hand on yours, the man’s touch heavy as he let the weight of his palm rest atop the back of your hand. “I want you.”

Hearing him say it floored you, but it didn’t come as a complete surprise. “Ok.” Swallowing hard, you nodded. “I want that, too. I want you, Din. I have for a -”

He cut you off when he leaned forward, the man’s kiss urgent as his free hand rose to the side of your face, the tips of his fingers curled behind your ear. You were too shocked to pull away, and so you didn’t. Instead, you moved closer, pulling your hand away from Din’s and spreading your fingers wide against his side. Is this happening? 

He squeezed your thigh as he deepened the kiss, the man wasting no time urging your lips apart with his tongue. Neither of you tried to end it. Instead, you moved closer to each other, lifting one leg and draping it over his as he pulled you toward him, holding you tightly. 

Both of you were still fully clothed, but it felt more intimate than even waking up in his arms on the couch had. “Wait.” He murmured the word against your mouth, kissing you once more before putting space between you. “Before I kiss you again, did … did you just agree to come to Mandalore with me?” 

“I did.” You had no idea what you’d do when you got there - if you’d find work, or even be able to work, where you’d live. You didn’t know what you were going to tell your friends and family. But I mean it. “As long as you were serious about me coming with you.” 

“I was. I am.” He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’ve never been more serious about anything.” Turning his head, he cleared his throat, gesturing to Grogu with his chin. “You’ll probably be spending a lot of time with that little guy over there.”

“Good.” You wrinkled your nose and  then grinned. “I like him.” Din laughed softly, his thumb stroking over your cheek. “Not as much as I like you though.” 

“I won’t tell him if you don’t.” Still trying to catch your breath, you let yourself think back over the previous few minutes and everything that had happened during them. I just agreed to go to a different country with him. I just agreed to leave with him without … “Hey. What’s wrong?” 

“I want to go with you Din, but I can’t just … I can’t be ready to go tomorrow. I need time to -” 

Your words were halted with another kiss from the man, but that one was tender, Din nodding as he pressed his lips to yours. “I know. I figured.” Straightening up, he dropped his hands and took both of yours, linking your fingers together. “What if… when do you go back to work?” 

“The fourth.” You paused. “No, the fifth.” He nodded, eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?” 

“I can convince Boba to let me stay until the morning of the 27th. That’ll give you a chance to pack.” Pack? “Come spend some time in Mandalore with me. Let me show you around, and that way … when we make the announcement, and when Bo-Katan does whatever it is she’s going to do, we’ll… be together. And we can make a statement about the picture together, and you won’t be alone to deal with the fallout.” 

“Are … are we together, then?” You were hesitant to ask the question, since he’d already said that you weren’t earlier in the conversation. But that was before. Things have changed, and … “Because -” 

“If you don’t want to be, no. We can say it was just a kiss, that we got caught up in -” 

“Din.” You closed your eyes, mentally preparing yourself. If I don’t say it now, I won’t. “If I didn’t want that, I wouldn’t have agreed to move halfway around the world with you five minutes ago.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him, holding up one hand. “I know this isn’t going to be a normal relationship. I know it’ll be hard. But as long as you can promise me you won’t get me over there and then just … abandon me right away, that’s … more than enough for right now.” 

“I can promise you that.” He took the hand you were holding up, wrapping his fingers around yours and then pulling it up and toward his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles - though he didn’t break eye contact. “Bat ner ijaat. On my honor.” 

“Ok.” Chewing on the inside of your lower lip, you nodded. “Ok, Din.” His face broke into a grin then, the man leaning forward and then wrapping his arms around you to hug you tightly. I just … I agreed to… wow. You held him for a few long moments, relishing in the way Din pressed his forehead into the side of your neck, his lips hovering just above your throat. But wait. “Hey. There’s one more thing.” 

He backed off, a look of concern in his eyes, but you were quick to reassure him, fingers stroking the back of his neck. “What? What’s -”

“I’m going to need you to meet my parents before I hop on a plane with you and become a part of this. They know who you are already, and have asked about you multiple times. So even if we can’t explain everything, they need to know some things, in case … in case anyone asks them questions.” If he said no or hesitated, you’d know that you made the wrong call in agreeing to go with him. 

“Alright. Will you call me and let me know when you’re done with your family stuff tomorrow? I don’t have anything to do, so I can come over after you’re done celebrating.”

“You could just come with me.” Your heart pounding, you made the suggestion. “They asked where you were tonight, so you could just come with me tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you realized how presumptuous it was. “Or I can call you. That’s fine too.”

“I can’t wear this.” He glanced down and then back at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “They’ll never believe a word either of us says if I show up dressed like I’m spending the day on my couch.”

“Oh, are you planning on staying over?” Arching a brow, you cocked your head to the left. “I don’t remember inviting you to stay with me tonight, Din.” His eyes widened, but before he could deny the intention, you burst out laughing, standing up and extending a hand toward him. “I’m just kidding. Please, stay. I’ll get Grogu that water for tonight, and we can stop on the way over to my parents tomorrow to drop him off and so that you can change. Your house isn’t really a detour.” 

“Do you have a guest bedroom?” He stared up at you, his eyes darkening. “Or am I sleeping on the couch with Grogu?” If you’re sleeping on the couch, so am I. 

“I usually sleep on my couch on Christmas Eve so I can wake up with the tree.” Holding out one hand, you waited for Din to take it. When he did, you pulled, urging him to his feet. “And I do have a guest bedroom, Din.” Here goes nothing. “But I’m willing to break tradition tonight, and I don’t think there’s any reason for me to sleep in my bed alone.” 

The room was quiet again, Din’s eyes locked with yours. For a few seconds, you thought you’d overstepped - and that he was going to deny you the same way he had when he’d explained for the first time why things couldn’t progress past kissing.  “Are you sure?” He spoke quietly, the man’s voice dropping into a tone you’d never heard from him before. “We can -”

“I’m sure.” Taking the opportunity, you nodded as you leaned in, kissing the space just in front of his ear. “Very sure.” 

That was all you needed to say. When you backed away and met his eyes again, Din’s were smoldering, his lips parted as he stared at you. But he didn’t say anything else, instead spinning away from you and saying Grogu’s name, snapping his fingers twice and then leading the dog to the back door. 

You felt a gust of cold air when he opened it, but by the time he’d shut it again you were in the kitchen, bent over in front of a cupboard and getting a large bowl out to fill with water. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I just said that. And that he agreed, and that … 

There was plenty to think about, and you knew that as soon as you had time to do so, it would probably become overwhelming. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to happen. Setting the full bowl down, you walked toward the front door and checked, making sure it was locked. 

The sound of Grogu’s nails on the floor made you turn, and you were treated to the sight of Din crouched next to your counter, the man stroking Grogu’s back slowly and murmuring to him for a few seconds while he drank. I could get used to that. 

Even as you had the thought, you lifted a hand to cover your mouth at the realization that it wasn’t just a fantasy you had to force out of your mind anymore. I … I probably will get used to that, and to being with them every day. 

“Are you ready for bed?” He was right in front of you again, and as he spoke, Din reached out, his hands settling at your waist. “Because I am.” 

You were tired - it had been a long and exhausting day, and you hadn’t slept well the previous night. But I don’t want to sleep. Not yet. Not when he’ll be here with me. “Are you?” Winking at him, you tucked one of his curls behind his right ear, biting your lip. “Alright, then. Come on.” 

Stepping away from Din, you reached back to take his hand before leading him up the stairs, flipping the light off once you’d reached the top. You paused with your hand on your door frame, collecting your thoughts. “What?” 

He pressed a hand against your back, but didn’t say anything else. “I…” Pushing the door all the way open, you turned around to face him. “I never thought this would be happening. I thought you were gone for good, and now you’re…” Reaching out, you fisted the material of his sweatshirt in your hands and then stepped backward, pulling him through the doorway. “Now we’re here.” 

He laughed, agreeing with you, but the laughter stopped once you were both fully inside. The nightlight from the corner illuminated enough so that you could see what you were doing, but you didn’t want to turn on any other lights. There’s no need to. “Want me to sleep in my clothes? I can keep my jeans on, so -”

“Din.” Taking a breath, you reached down and pulled your sweater over your head and then let it drop to the floor. His eyes followed the movement - just like you’d hoped they would, and the way he shifted his weight, fingers curling inward toward his palms encouraged you. “No, I do not want you to sleep in your clothes.” 

The room was silent and after a few seconds, you realized it was because you were both holding your breath, Din’s finally leaving his chest in a whoosh as he stepped forward. Lifting both hands, he gripped your upper arms and then pushed you backward, following until you were pressed against the wall to the right of your bed, the two of you chest to chest. “I don’t want to either.” 

You laughed at that, but it didn’t last, Din’s mouth covering yours in a bruising kiss. 

It made you gasp, though at the same time you leaned in, seeking more from him, your hands rising to push beneath the material of his hooded sweatshirt. He groaned at your touch, his upper lip curling, and then Din pulled back, mumbling your name. “Hmm?” Stroking up and down his back with one hand, you tilted your head back to rest it against the wall. “Everything alright?” 

“I don’t have a condom.” Ah. That. 

“I do.” You chewed on your lower lip, gesturing to the bedside table with your chin. “Box is still in there from… before, so as long as you don’t mind that, we’re… we’re good to go.” You didn’t know if bringing James up - even in passing and in a relevant way - would ruin the mood, but when Din responded by rocking his hips forward and against yours, a single nod of his head visible before he ducked down to kiss you, you knew that it hadn’t. Good. I don’t know what I’d do if … 

He bit down on your lower lip, applying slight pressure before drawing it between his own. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped out at the feeling, the glide of your hand turning into a curl of your fingers, the edges of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt he had on under the hoodie. That earned you another roll of his hips, the man’s thighs holding you against the wall even as his hands left your body. 

The longer the kiss went on, the deeper it became. And as it deepened, it slowed, too, every lick of the man’s tongue against yours purposeful, Din masking the sounds you made with ones of his own that you hadn’t even dreamed you’d be fortunate enough to ever hear. 

“Need to get you into bed.” When he spoke, it was directly into your ear, his voice low. “Need to touch you. Want to -” 

Somehow, you pushed him away, though you were focused on not only what the man was saying but how he was saying it, your breath coming out in short bursts. He wants me as much as I want him. “Let me get this off of you, then.” You murmured his name, hands moving down to the bottom hem of his hoodie. “Lift your arms, Din.”

He did what you asked, only dropping them again when his sweatshirt joined your sweater on the floor. When you reached for his belt, he didn’t stop you there, either. 

It came undone with a few deft movements of your fingers, and instead of pulling it totally free you let it hang and turned your attention to his zipper, the tips of your fingers making contact with the cool metal. 

“Wait.” He said your name and you stopped immediately, eyes moving away from your hand and back up to meet his. What did I do wrong? Opening your mouth to ask, you caught the smirk on the man’s face before he spoke again. “Why are you doing all the work?” What? 

He touched you then, large hands beginning at your waist and then moving up, pushing the cotton t-shirt you wore up along with them. Gasping at the contact - and the warmth of his palms on your skin - it was your turn to raise your hands, though you didn’t hold them over your head. Instead, you wound them around his neck, leaning in to kiss Din just as brazenly as he’d kissed you against the wall. 

That seemed to surprise him, the man inhaling sharply, though he didn’t pull away. It encouraged you to continue, even as his hands settled atop where your bra band covered your ribcage, the shirt bunched up just beneath your shoulders. 

Licking along the seam of his lips, you gave him no warning before you took the lower one between your teeth and bit down. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to get a reaction from him, Din’s hands squeezing your flesh as he kissed you back. Tilting your head to the side, you encouraged him when you inched closer, the fingers of one hand tangling in the curled hair at the nape of his neck. 

But Din surprised you, the man backing off as he used both hands to drag your shirt over your head and then twist the material around one curled fist, the motion forcing your elbows closer together in front of you. You didn’t let go of him even as your eyes widened in surprise, though, mouth dropping open in a shocked gasp as your gaze flicked down and then back up to meet his. “Din, w -” 

“I wasn’t expecting that.” He was grinning, his eyes heavy-lidded as he stared at you. “But I liked it.” Good. Good, because … “But you and I have been very patient for the last couple weeks, right?” 

“Yeah, but -” He twisted his wrist and your hand slipped, dropping enough so that you had one palm pressed to his skin, the heel of it resting on the back of his shirt collar, the other resting on his shoulder. “Din?” 

“If you keep doing that - biting me, I’m not going to be able to take my time with you.” He wet his lips, the man’s tongue dragging over them slowly. “And I want to take my time with you.” He released his hold on your shirt, raising his hand and dragging his knuckles slowly over your cheek. “Okay?” 

All you could do was nod. When Din leaned back in - his mouth finding yours easily, you played along, kissing him slowly, your hands staying in place as you let him lead. 

You didn’t know how it happened but Din maneuvered you so that you crossed the room in careful steps. 

The man only pulled back when your calves hit the side of your bed, Din’s smile once again little more than a smirk, his hands settled at your waist, just above the top band of your leggings. Slowly, you pulled your arms back and removed the shirt, dropping it next to you and then waiting, wondering what the man’s first reaction to seeing you in only a bra would be. 

It was better than you’d expected. Din took a full step back until only his fingertips were in contact with your skin and you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly through the material that was stretched across it. “Worth the wait, or no?” 

You regretted speaking as soon as the words were out, but before you’d had a chance to apologize for how needy you sounded, Din was pulling his own shirt off and tossing it to the side, never looking away from you. “Yes. You have … no idea.” He groaned and then stepped forward again, giving you almost no time to admire him before he was urging you into a seated position on the edge of the bed. 

It forced you to look up at him, your lips slightly parted as he ran a thumb over them, his head cocked to the right. Fuck, this is … You gripped the blanket with both hands, fighting the urge to reach for his jeans again. But when his hand dropped, the man sliding two fingers beneath one bra strap before urging it down and over your shoulder, you stopped holding back. 

As he moved his fingers over the slope of your shoulder, you undid the button and then moved to the zipper, watching the movement of your hand instead of looking up at him. 

You knew he’d stop you if he wanted to, so when Din only shifted his stance, flexing his hips toward you, you took that as a sign he wanted you to continue. 

The man’s jeans slid down and over his thighs before they pooled around his knees - and then his ankles, but you weren’t looking there. Instead, you were focused on what was in front of you - the thick band of his underwear snug against the man’s hips, dark material covering his thighs and stopping much higher than expected on his legs to expose more of his golden skin. Holy shit, look at the way they … fuck. 

“Damn, Din.” You bit your own lip, then, finally looking back up. “Wow.” You were fully aware that you probably sounded like an idiot, but instead of laughing, the man only winked at you, his other hand repeating the process with your second bra strap without breaking eye contact. 

“You wanna take this off, or should I?” He squeezed your shoulder. “You’re wearing more than I am.” You didn’t want to take your hands off of him but did it anyway, reaching behind you to unhook the material before shrugging your arms free and letting it fall onto the mattress next to you. “Maker, look at you. Gar’re mesh’la.” Changing the angle of his hand, the pad of one thumb stroked over the upper part of your chest, but before Din could move it lower, you dragged the edges of your nails up the sides of his thighs and slid your hands around to the backs of them, pausing there. 

You knew that he was just as torn as you - the desire to take your time and explore warring with the need for the instant gratification of touching him, and you wondered what was going to win. 

The question was answered only moments later when his hand moved from your shoulder over the center of your throat and then up, the man’s grip firm but not painful as he tilted your head back. His touch made you shiver, and at the slight motion you watched his brows rise, the smirk back on his lips in full force. “Oh, my G -”

“Lay down.” He tightened his grip briefly but then let you go, bringing the hand that had been on you to his waist before using it to adjust himself. “Lay down so I can take those pants off.” 

It was inelegant but you scrambled backwards and away from him before he was even done speaking. Leaning back on your elbows you watched what he did, breath caught in your throat. The man lifted one hand and let it trail up and over your still-clothed calf and knee, his eyes focused on the movement. 

Without warning, he leaned over and reached for your waist, undoing the single button there - and then slipped his fingers beneath the material so he could drag it downward. 

You lifted your lower body before he could ask, breath catching in your throat as Din pulled your pants off much more slowly than you were expecting. It’s like he’s unwrapping a present. But it’s not an actual gift, it’s me, and - 

“If this is what getting a Christmas present is like, I think I have a new favorite holiday.” You whimpered at his words, your eyes rolling back as his hands made their way to the skin of your calves, urging your legs apart so that he could step between them. “Fuck, this is -” 

“Din, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking him for. But Din reacted to your words, his hands sliding up your legs as he leaned forward, closing the distance between himself and your body. “Please, just…” 

“I’ve got you.” He squeezed your legs, the man’s breath fanning over the skin at the center of your chest. “I’ve got you.” You nodded, the movement of your head the only thing you could manage as he lowered his mouth to kiss your skin, the man turning his head to the right and licking at the swell of one breast. 

The mattress shifted as he raised a knee to give himself better leverage, and when Din’s mouth trailed up the column of your throat, you finally moved, too - hands rising to grip the hair at the back of his head and urge him up faster. 

You could have kissed him for hours, letting the relief you felt at the man’s presence flow from you and into him, but Din had other plans. 

He pulled away from you and stood again, circling the bed and opening your top drawer to reach inside. You repositioned yourself on the bed once he was out of it, stretching out lengthwise so that your head was on the pillows. 

The foil square looked positively small in his hand, but as Din’s fingers curled around it, his smile grew, the man’s eyes never leaving your body as he climbed back into bed with you. “Gotta take those off before you can -”

“Oh, I know.” Din knelt next to you, glancing down. “But so do you.” 

He was right - you still had underwear on, too, and because he’d taken care when he was removing your pants, he hadn’t even touched the thin material. “I can change that.” Digging your heels into the mattress, you lifted your hips and used both hands to tug the only thing you still had on down and over your legs, kicking them off and into a dark corner of your bedroom. “Better?”

“Much.” Din licked his lips as he eyed you, his gaze traveling the length of your body and then back up, his broad chest rising and falling as he nodded. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this?”

“No, but you can tell me.” You reached out for him, your hand making contact with the elastic at his waist. “If you want.” He swallowed hard as your hand dropped, fingers caressing the bulge beneath the fabric. It took everything in you not to whine at the feel of him - warm and firm, thicker than you’d imagined, but when he thrust his hips forward, pressing himself against your palm, you couldn’t hold your reaction back. “Din, you -”

“I’d rather show you.” He was breathing hard, the man widening the spread of his knees as you curled and uncurled your fingers against him. “One second.” 

He removed his underwear without getting off of the bed, and at the sight of his totally nude body, you felt your toes curl. I can’t believe … we’re here. We’re … this is happening. Your hand rested against one of his thighs, the room quiet aside from your breathing as you waited. But I don’t want to wait. “Din?” 

“Hmm?” He pressed his hand against your belly, fingers spread wide. “What?” 

“I know you said you wanted to take your time, but …” Your hand slid higher and then in, the pad of your thumb brushing over the length of him. You fought back a smile as his muscles jerked at the touch. Perfect. He’s perfect. “Can we not do that tonight? Can we just -”

“If that’s what you want.” He reached down and took your hand in his, guiding it and urging you to wrap your fingers around him. “Of course.” He closed his eyes as you began to move in slow strokes, the man’s lips parting as he groaned out with each exhale. “Maker, it’s been -” 

“You can touch me too, Din.” You were almost desperate for it, wanting nothing more than to feel the man’s hands on you. “If you want.” 

And he did, the hand that had been on your belly sliding lower before he repositioned it, turning it so that his fingers were pointed down, the tips of them curling as he reached the apex of your thighs. 

You gasped at the feeling and then whined as he slid them through the slick that had already gathered there, two of them spreading you open while the one between began moving in slow circles. He was teasing you with the light touch, and even though you wanted to enjoy it, you also wanted him. No more waiting. 

Your hand moved faster and his did, too, your eyes squeezed shut as you dug your head backwards and into the pillow, your hips rising a few inches off of the mattress as they sought out more from him. “Might never stop touching you now that you told me to start.” He murmured the words into your ear, Din’s cheek pressed to yours as he leaned forward. 

“Good.” You gasped out the word when he pushed a single finger into you, your fingers tightening around him. “Don’t stop.” 

Dragging your hand up higher, you coated your fingertips in the gathered moisture from his tip and then began to stroke him in earnest, your hand picking up speed as he replaced the single finger inside of you with two, both of them pumping in and out of you at a pace that wasn’t quite slow, but also wouldn’t be enough to actually get you off. 

You relished the sounds that both of you were making in the dimly lit confines of your bedroom - sighs and groans along with the occasional grunt, but you’d meant it when you asked him not to take his time. “Need you.” You squeezed him once more and then let go, your hand falling away and then seeking his out, your fingers around his wrist stilling the movement of his hand. 

He didn’t remove his hand from your body, though. Din paused with both fingers still buried in you. Even though he wasn’t moving, you could feel the pull of your muscles around them, your body attempting to draw him in deeper. “Might hurt if I do that now.” He kissed you gently, shaking his head back and forth. “And I don’t -”

“I’ll be alright.” Opening your eyes, you looked up at him. “What’s the Mandalorian word for promise?” His eyes widened but to Din’s credit he replied almost immediately, the words he spoke quiet but clear. 

“Ni rejorhaa'ir te haat.” He pressed his lips to yours and then repeated himself. “It means ‘I tell the truth’, and -” 

“Ni… rejorhaa'ir te… te haat, Din.” You were sure you’d butchered the pronunciation, but Din didn’t seem to mind at all. The man’s mouth met yours in another hard kiss as he drew his hand back and then used both of them to pull you into an upright position, both of your hands scrambling into place to help. 

He repositioned himself as the two of you kissed - the man moving to straddle your lower body, chests pressed together as his fingers dug into your back and urged you to stay in place.

You felt him then, as he relaxed and settled some of his weight against the tops of your thighs. I want to… It was you that broke the kiss, pulling away from him enough so that you could glance down, your eyes fixated on the way he looked. “What are - oh.” He cut himself off when your fingers wrapped around him again, the man’s breath catching as you began to stroke. 

You clung to him with your other hand, the palm pressed against the center of his shoulders, but when Din’s hips began to roll in rhythm with your motion, you stopped thinking about anything else. 

The only thing that mattered was the way he felt in your hand and sounded as he panted into your ear. You only cared that he was in your bed with you, and that he wasn’t stopping you, even though it was you that had made the request to speed things up. 

“Next time,” he rasped, the man’s tongue dragging along the skin just below the lobe of your ear before he bit down on it. “Next time, I’m going to take my time with you. Use my hands and mouth, and dank farrik, you need to stop or -” 

“Alright.” You nearly moaned the word out, your hand stilling - though you didn’t release him. “I’ll stop.” But you didn’t let him reach for the condom - instead, you turned your head toward his and sought his mouth, the man’s lips soft and warm when they met yours, the kiss short but sincere.

Despite the unfamiliar position you were in - Din on your lap, leaking all over your hand while he knelt above you - you’d never been more content. And I’ve never wanted anyone this much, you realized as he deepened the kiss, the man’s tongue pushing into your mouth to meet yours. It’s terrifying. 

He removed one hand from you, and then a few seconds later he backed off completely, saying your name. Din was breathing hard, the rise and fall of his chest much more even than your own rhythm. “Last chance to tell me to leave before -” 

“I don’t ever want you to leave.” Your smile was tight, your exhale deep through your nose. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that this is what I want?” You paused, thinking. “You know what? This would still be what I wanted even if it meant it was only going to happen once.” 

That seemed to be what he needed to hear, the man nodding and then tearing the condom open, holding the latex between his fingers. Oh, I should tell him, it - “This feels …” He frowned as he began to roll it on, gaze dropping and then rising to meet yours. “Why is -”

“We had to get the ones with the extra lube.” You spoke quietly, clearing your throat as you ducked your head. Oh, this is embarrassing. “I’ve never been someone that got really -” 

“Didn’t feel like that to me.” He used the knuckle of one finger to lift your chin, the kindness in his eyes making you gasp. “You just needed the right person.” Yeah, I… At the end of Din’s sentence, his voice dropped, the man’s large hand moving back to your jaw and angling it so that he could kiss you again. “Lay down.” 

The words were whispered but you listened to him, settling back onto the pillows as Din repositioned himself between your legs, finally letting go of himself and using both hands to push your knees apart. 

He stared at you as he moved, lips parted and his eyes never lingering in one place for too long. I like how he’s looking at me. I like how - You moaned his name out as he slid a hand around to the back of one thigh, urging that leg into a bent position, and then Din shifted on his knees, inching closer as he stretched a leg out behind him. 

You wanted to watch but instead, screwed your eyes shut when you felt him press against your entrance briefly, a single flex of his hips allowing him to slide upward and through you, Din also hissing out another string of words that you couldn’t understand. “Tell me if it’s too much.” 

It was barely a whisper but you heard it, and after you’d nodded in reply, Din moved again, your body stretching to accommodate him as he pushed inside - first the tip and then a little more every few seconds. 

Din’s groan was loud but nowhere near as loud as yours. And when he lowered himself toward you, both hands sliding up the blankets on either side of your body to settle by your head, you reached for him. Your fingertips skated over his sides and then down, fingers curling around the toned muscle beneath his waist. 

“It’s not too much, Din.” Your leg tightened against his hip and then - moments later, when Din rocked forward again, you encouraged more, dragging him closer until he was completely inside of you. 

But Din didn’t move, except to drop his head so that you couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. His breath traveled over your skin with each sharp exhale, the heat of it raising goosebumps in its wake. 

And there was pain - the size of him something you’d need time to get used to. But the man’s body going completely still was enough to give you a few breaths to adjust. “Oh, Wero. I knew… even then, I…” His hips flexed slightly, the drag inside of you noticeable - and welcome. “Ner yatne wero.” 

You wanted to know what he was saying and wondered if you’d remember to ask later, but your thoughts scattered when he finally began to move, the man thrusting into you in slow, smooth strokes. He was taking it easy - you had no doubt about that. But as the seconds passed, the pinch of pain faded and you were able to focus on everything else. 

The way he filled you on each stroke, his hips making contact with yours before he pulled back and did it again. 

The way he was fisting the blankets on either side of your body, the strain of holding himself upright evident in the bulging of his biceps, tendons rippling just beneath the skin’s surface. 

The sound of his low grunts as Din found his rhythm, the man’s mouth barely separated from yours, though it was close enough that the tips of your noses touched.

And through it all, you encouraged him with sounds of your own. Quiet gasps and groans, a low, breathy moan as he altered his angle and found a spot deep inside of you that you hadn’t been counting on, the whisper of his name as he pressed a quick kiss to your mouth and then whipped his head to the side, tucking his face against your neck. 

And despite the way he was wrecking you with every other part of his body, it was that action that impacted you the most. 

Your attention was torn from the way he filled you and used his broad frame to cover as much of you as he could and drawn instead to the way his soft curls felt against the sweat-sticky skin of your neck, and the heat from each exhale as it washed over the side and front of your throat.  You could feel the tip of his nose as it dug gently into your skin, every thrust forcing a slight movement of the rest of him. 

It was too much - but not in a way that you’d ever admit to him, because it was also everything that you’d never dared to hope was possible, and you weren’t in any hurry to give it up. Ever. 

Din groaned again, the sound vibrating through him, and when he pulled his hips back almost far enough to completely remove himself from you, it was your turn to move first, one leg rising to wind around his thighs and urge him back in. “Oh, that’s what you want?” He hummed, opening his mouth so that he could nip at your throat. “Alright.” 

You kept your leg in place. The next time Din repositioned himself to ensure complete access to you, you let your hands trail up and over his bare back, the man’s muscles flexing beneath your touch. Pulling him closer, you urged his chest against yours and when you adjusted your hips, you whined at one particularly deep stroke, your body reacting with an almost violent shudder. 

“Right there, Din. Oh, shit, right there.” The edges of your nails dug into his back and you were certain that when you finally released him, there’d be tiny crescent shapes indented into his skin. But I don’t care and he doesn’t either and … “Feels good. So good, you…” 

You were panting, breath escaping you in harsh bursts, but before he could reply or you could continue, you felt a molten heat gathering in your belly and then spreading lower, your mouth falling open in surprise as your toes curled. Oh, shit, already? 

It was rare that your orgasm came so quickly - and even less typical for your body to tip over the edge without additional assistance. But the friction from Din’s body - the drag of him as he thrust in and out coupled with the short, coarse hair at his base that rubbed against you on every forward stroke - was enough that night, his name leaving your mouth in an elongated gasp that was also half-whine. 

You loosened your grip and moved your hands up to grasp his hair, urging him to look at you. You need to see this. You need to… He locked eyes with you, the heat of his gaze almost explosive, even in the low light that filled your room - but it didn’t last. “That’s it.” He smiled, the expression softer than you’d imagined, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let me feel you.” 

And you did - trying not to break eye contact while your body shook beneath his, Din’s pace steady and strong, the arch of your back forcing your chests closer together as the contraction of your muscles pulled him deeper into your body. This is perfect. 

But it would only be truly perfect when Din came, too, and so you took as deep a breath as you could manage, tugging on the ends of his hair to bring his face closer. “Let me feel you, now.” You kissed him softly, your lips closing over his and lingering, giving him a small nod of your head before you broke apart.

It didn’t take long - Din’s pace quickening as he shortened each thrust, the man’s eyes closing before his mouth opened, tongue poking out to wet his lips briefly. You whimpered as he changed angles again, releasing his hair and replacing your hands on his shoulders. 

You felt his muscles tense a minute or so later, Din whispering your name as his hips stuttered, stalled completely and then began to move again, filling you as completely as he filled the condom he wore - added heat between your legs, the man’s muscles seizing repeatedly as he finished with a series of quiet grunts that you knew you’d never forget.

When he was done - the man’s arms and legs trembling, his chest rising and falling against yours while be fought to catch his breath - Din finally lowered his head again. He sought your kiss and you gave one to him freely, Din’s tongue delving into your mouth as if he was cementing a promise. And maybe he is. 

He hovered after the kiss ended, the man’s breathing deep and slow. “You ok?” He took another breath and finally lifted one of his hands from the blanket, stroking your temple with his fingertips and then lingering at your cheek. You nodded, biting down on your lip. “You sure?”

“I am.” Settling deeper into your blankets, you sighed. “What about you?” 

“I,” he started, voice low. “I’m better than I have been in a long time.” Din finished speaking and then reached between your bodies before slowly easing himself free, the man turning away from you to sit at the edge of the bed. 

You watched as he stood a few moments later, striding toward your partially open bathroom door and disappearing through it. Did that just happen? You took a few steadying breaths, turning your attention toward the ceiling and placing a hand flat on your abdomen. It did, and I agreed to go with him, and - 

“Here.” He was standing next to your bed, a hand towel between his fingers. “Figured you’d want to clean yourself up.” With a grateful smile you took the cloth from him, exhaling at the fact that he’d dampened a corner of it with warm water. For the next few seconds the room was completely quiet, but when you let the towel fall to the floor and turned toward Din again, he was watching you. 

“What?” Reaching out, you laid a hand on his thigh. “Din?” 

“I really want you to come home with me. I wasn’t just -” He shook his head. “I meant it all.” 

“Hey.” Squeezing his leg you jerked your head toward the pillows. “Lay down, OK? You’re naked and it’s gonna get cold pretty fast.” He looked torn but did as you asked, and when both of you were covered with your comforter, rolled onto your sides and facing each other, you took a deep breath. “I know you did, and I meant it, too.” 

“But I can’t ask -” 

“You asked me to come with you for a few days. Let’s start there.” You ran your fingers through his hair and were unable to keep the smile off of your face at the man’s damp roots. It’s going to be so curly when it dries. “We have a lot to talk about, Din. There’s a lot to consider - like my house and my job and my family, but none of that needs to be decided now, does it?” 

“No.” He swallowed, his hand sliding over your bare hip and resting there. “It doesn’t.” You watched each other for a little while, the man’s eyes searching your face, and when he spoke next, the question he asked didn’t surprise you. “Why?” 

Because I’m pretty sure I love you. It was too soon - too fast, too much, and so you didn’t say it out loud. Not yet. “Because I want to.” You yawned, using the pillow to cover your face, and when you looked back at him, he was frowning. “This is different than it was with James. I don’t … I don’t know if anyone will understand, especially with how fast this is all happening, but it doesn’t matter, Din. I understand and you understand. This isn’t a normal situation, and we just … we have to do what we can to make it work.” 

“What if it doesn’t?” He ran his hand up your back slowly, the tips of his fingers following your spine. At the touch, you moved forward, closing the distance between your bodies. “What if me being Mand’alor makes you decide to -”

“Then we figure it out as it happens.” Leaning in, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his mouth and then to his jaw, taking a breath. “We won’t know until we try, right?” 

It was different for you, despite the relationship between you and Din being so new and untested. You trusted him, and even though taking the leap of uprooting yourself from your life had seemed unthinkable only a few months earlier with James, it didn’t feel that way with Din. And it never has, even in the beginning. 

“This is The Way.” His voice dropped again, Din nodding as he inched closer. Whatever that means … yeah. I guess it is. 

You kissed him again then, the weight of Din’s upper body pressing against yours as he urged you onto your back, his hand trapped between you and the mattress, the fingers of one of yours tangled in his hair. There was hope in his kiss, a lightness that hadn’t been there only moments earlier. When you broke apart, Din kept his eyes on you, the set of his lips going from a slight smile to his signature smirk. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I was right.” Questioning him silently with a frown and a few quick blinks, you waited. “You just needed the right person. Maybe next time we can try something different and a little less… lubricated.” It took you a second, but when you realized that he was changing the subject and talking about the condoms - and your body’s reaction to him, you laughed, eyes squeezing shut and your hand tugging his hair harder than necessary. 

“It’s Christmas, Din. Are you trying to get on the naughty list? I hear there’s no presents that way.” He laughed, too, but didn’t answer until you were both settled again, the laughter subsiding. 

“I already got my present.” So did I. He paused. “And I was just making an observation.” He arched a brow. “Hopefully I can make it a habit.” 

“I’d like that.” A lot. “And if you don’t want to, you don’t have to come with me tomorrow, Din. It’s not like they’re expecting you, so -”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I’m not going to let you explain all of this on your own.” He cleared his throat. “That’s not who I am.” He didn’t need you to agree, and so you didn’t, instead mouthing the words “good night” to the man and then closing your eyes, your arm slung around his upper body and his around the lower portion of yours. 

You wouldn’t get much sleep that night, but you didn’t care. And I don’t think he does, either. You also knew that in the light of day, everything that had happened in the previous 36 hours would catch up to you - and it would be a lot. But I won’t change my mind. Not before either of us knows what being in Mandalore together will be like. 

“Hey.” You were almost asleep when he interrupted your thoughts, his voice tinged with fatigue. “After your parents’... I know you need to pack, but …” He sighed, the end of it turning into a yawn. “Will you come over to my place and give Grogu his present?” 

“He’ll need something to keep him occupied on the plane.” You smiled at the thought, nodding, though you didn’t open your eyes. “Yes. I’ll come over.” He hummed in agreement, and a few seconds later, you did open your eyes, saying his name. I forgot until … “And that way, I can watch you open yours, too.” 

—  

Sheber olar = sit here 

Nayc = no 

Bat ner ijaat = on my honor

Gar’re mesh’la = you’re beautiful 

Ni rejorhaa'ir te haat = I tell the truth

Ner yatne wero = my ‘best’ problem (my favorite problem)

--- 

tag list reblog coming soon ! 

[14daysdalovers]

Welcome to the Fourth Annual ‘14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers’ Prompts Event!

I am so excited to be back to host this event for the fourth year in a row. I have a fun new list of prompts to get into the spirit of Valentine’s Day with some of our favorite Thedosian characters, and I cannot wait to see what this years list sparks for all of you!

As always, please make sure that you read through the events rules page (which is outlined below the cut) before you decide if this event is for you.

Let’s start with the basics!

How does the event work?

It’s pretty simple!

Step 1: Post your content

Step 2: Make sure to tag the event page (@14daysdalovers)

Step 3: Add the tag #14DALovers (don’t forget to add the prompt and pair tags)

It’s that easy! I will reblog all contributions to the event page for everyone to enjoy in one easy to find location.

I am hosting this event solo, so please be patient with me for reblogs. If I have missed your post and it hasn’t been posted on the blog page by the following day, don’t hesitate to DM me here with a link to your post. I will do my very best to make sure any content contributed is added in a timely manner so it can be viewed + enjoyed by the other participants!

Who can participate?

Anyone over 18 years old can participate! This event will allow adult themes and NSFW content, so unfortunately minors are asked to kindly please not to participate. Please make sure your posts are tagged as NSFW (lemons, etc) if they fall into that category, and tag anything potentially triggering.

How long does the event run?

The event will run for the month of February. Even though the prompts list only has 14 prompts, I want it to be a fun and relaxed event, so I am not putting deadlines on content submissions. Don’t have a piece of fan art/fanfiction finished on the 1st for the first prompt? No big deal! Just submit your content when you finish it and I will reblog it regardless of the date. The last day to submit your pieces for the event will be the 28th so make sure you post them before the end of the day to have them added to the event page.

Which fandoms & pairings will the event cover?

The event will be open to pairings from any of the Dragon Age games, novels, etc. Any pairing from the fandom as a whole, including rare pairs, are allowed and encouraged as long they are respectful to the character. Please make sure you tag your posts with your ship pairing!

What kind of content is allowed?

The event is open for original works of fanfiction, fan art, 2D and 3D rendered pieces. No mood boards or playlists please for copyright purposes. NSFW content is allowed as long as it is between two consenting characters. This is supposed to be an uplifting feel good event, but I understand the need for conflict, angst and drama in certain pieces to build a mood. However it should go without saying that any ‘dark’ content will be frowned upon and will not be added to the event page. 

Here is a list of content that will absolutely NOT be permitted for the event;

• Content that changes a queer character to a straight character.

• Graphic violence/torture or angst for the sake of torturing a character.

• Any content that is racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic, ageist, etc.

• Incest

• Underage

• Non-con/rape

• Kink-shaming

• Basically if it’s not respectful don’t submit it!

The purpose of the event is to most importantly have fun and uplift your fellow content creators! Comments and reblogs are encouraged, but please keep them respectful. Anyone leaving negative comments or tags on content posts will have their content removed from the event page and be blocked from participating in the event further.

That about sums it up! My ask box and inbox are open for any questions or concerns you might have so don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any.

I can’t wait to see all the wonderful romantic Dragon Age content!

[megumiswife4]

ENTWINED SHADOWS

Pairings ~ Megumi x Fem Reader

Warnings ~ slow burn, (possible smut in later chapters), aged-up Fushiguro (as well as other characters), 18+ only PLEASE.

WC ~ 1.2k

This is my first fic here. Please take it easy on me, but I would love to receive constructive criticism to improve my writing; you guys can always leave messages in my inbox or comment below once again thank you for reading and enjoy.

*I will be posting every Sunday night for a new chapter*

*SOME OF THE ART WORK IS NOT MINE, If you happen to know the artist pls lmk so I could tag their socials*

Part 2: ⬇️

It's not unusual to find yourself walking the halls of Jujutsu High all alone, after all, your first-year friends are on missions, and being enrolled here was not your intended plan. If it wasn't for family roots having connections here you'd likely have ended up anywhere else. Nonetheless, Gojo was determined to get you to join his first-year class, and here you are halfway through the first year. You’re truly grateful for being able to make new friends just thinking back to your first encounter with Kugisaki, being that she was the first person you felt completely comfortable with since you both were the only two girls. Walking into the room you felt all eyes on you, there they were, all three Kugisaki, Itadori, and Fushiguro.

“Hello, kiddos! I'd like to introduce you to Y/N L/N! One of Jujutsu High’s newest students!” Gojo exclaimed loudly, directing his jazz hands toward you.

“Finally another girl I can gossip with! I am so sick of dealing with these knucklehead losers who don't understand us, women!” Kugisaki loudly expressed, quickly pulling you into a hug in relief.

“What the hell Kugisaki?! Are you for real? Am I not a great friend to you?” Itadori said, facing Nobara in annoyance.

As they continue to bicker about nonsense with one another, you decide it was enough and formally introduce yourself.

“Well, I’m sure Kugisaki appreciates you just as much as you appreciate her.” a big smile forming on your face. Reaching your hand out, “Nice to meet you, Itadori.”

Both shaking hands, you turn to Nobara offering her a handshake in return. “ It’s nice to know I won't be too alone now that I know there is another girl in this class.” Both of you share a smile.

Nobara reached over to Itadori’s ear, “ I like her a lot, she's so nice.”

“I agree, she's pretty cute too,” Itadori says, rubbing the back of his head and smiling.

“Really Itadori?” she snarled back in annoyance.

“What!? It’s just a compliment, can I not say anything nice without you thinking I have an instant crush on someone good-looking?”

Once again this duo looked like a wildfire that couldn't be stopped, your interfering wouldn't have made it any better anyways.

You turned to look past both Kugisaki and Itadori… There he was, noticing the dark-haired boy, crossed arms leaning against his desk, who seemed to be in such deep thought facing the windows. Such a quiet, melancholy boy but.. seemingly had such a serious demeanor, it was quite a different feeling from other people you’ve met but, different is always good, right?

“Fushiguro! Don't be rude, come introduce yourself I’m sure you both would make the best of friends.” Gojo yelped, leaning his head down overlooking his dark lenses, exposing his bright blue eyes toward the spiky-haired boy.

Not a single word left Fushiguros mouth, propping himself up after leaning on the desk. Gradually making his way towards you, his elongated arm reaching out.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Megumi Fushiguro.” his hand grabbed ahold of yours.

“It’s nice to meet you too Fushiguro.” giving a half smile.

“You can call me Megumi.” he insisted

You nodded your head, “Sure can.”

Although that thought of your first encounter with your new friends was quite possibly the best thing to ever happen in your life. It's hard to not find yourself sulking into deep thought, with each interaction when it comes to Megumi. After all, he is one of your closest friends; aside from the other two.

“Y/N!”

Everyone at Jujutsu High was in their designated group and solo missions during this time around, it was rare to see familiar faces quite this early on in the beginning of fall.

You heard footsteps running down the hallway in the direction you were going. Turning to see who it could be.

“Nobara!” You exclaimed with a smile.

“It’s so good to see you after this long group mission, finally to get some one on one girl time for now.” trying to catch her breath.

“I know I’m glad we get some time to spend with one another….” you stated.

“Yaknow Nobara it’s only been a month since you and the boys have been gone, it’s gotten lonely down these halls since. Not to mention nothing much has happened; other than just sparring with Maki and Panda, trying to keep up with strength training and stamina for when it's time to finally take up a group mission with you three not including Gojo-Sensei as the fourth.” you smiled laughing.

“Ugh! You sound so depressed saying it like that, cheer up Y/N. We're back home now no need to mope about that crap, besides we’re heading out into Tokyo tonight to hit some karaoke night with some drinks and you’re coming along either way so no if’s, and’s, or but’s.” she cheerfully states skipping along the hallways.

Letting out a laugh “It’s always hard saying no to you guys, I’ve been longing to have a free, fun night out with all of us after things were so boring here.”

‘Well in that case, now we have an excuse to make ourselves look fabulous for tonight. No reason we shouldn't look our best; who knows we might end up finding someone for you tonight.” she rejoiced, pulling you in the direction of the dorms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OH COME ON! That shit isn’t fair, I got a headshot on the opponent!” Itadori blurted, dropping the controller onto the couch.

“You think you’re strategic enough to play Call of Duty like that?” Megumi emitted keenly.

“Oh yeah? What do you even know about video games? Seems to me you prefer a book in your hands rather than a game controller?” he scoffed.

“Who cares you're too worked up over a fictional game, how about you start getting ready for the night out with Nobara and Y/N?”

“Oh you’re right, well tonight is the night that we find you a cute girl.”

Itadori poked at Megumi in hopes of seeing him somewhat interested in the idea, the dark-haired boy seemed too disinterested in finding a girl; it was the least of his worries.

They both start digging through different choices of outfits to wear at tonight's outing, Megumi settled on some dress shoes, with a pair of black khakis topping it off with a white long-sleeve button-up. Although Itadori concluded onto a pair of blue jeans putting it together with red sneakers and a yellow hoodie. The pink-haired boy was much more in casual attire, alongside the more cleaned-up overdressed raven-haired boy. Megumi believed appearances displayed one's persona and who they were outwardly, meanwhile, Itadori was quite opposed to the idea of basing someone's attire on who they are; he much rather preserve that with an initial conversation. Both boys were prepared for the outing and finalized with putting on a spritz of cologne.

Megumi heard a light buzzing sound coming from below, he reached down his right pocket to retrieve his phone receiving a text from Nobara.

Nobara: Hey are you losers ready yet? Y/N and I are waiting right out the hallway from your dorm.

Chuckling to himself, he knows Kugisaki can be so impatient when she's the first one ready.

Megumi: Yeah, we're just about to head out the door.

Nobara: Well get your guys asses moving, us girls are looking too good to be waiting here.

Both Yuji and Megumi walked out the door, letting it slowly shut behind them; Nobara and Y/N greeted them sharing some laughs as they continue to walk out into town catching the next city bus to Tokyo.