#me: oh that's nice! is she your favorite companion?

[syn0vial]

everyone's acting shocked that shadowheart is the top romance option and not astarion, but as your impossibly stereotypical lesbian-with-mostly-straight-dude-friends, lemme tell you, there is nothing shocking to me about a shadowheart sweep OR the fact that astarion fans are so much louder comparatively

[coco-loco-nut]

Baby

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: Baby fever hits different when it’s George holding the baby

a/n: thanks to @glitterquadricorn for dropping the hint, it was received. i hope you enjoy it 🫶

requests open masterlist

—————

You always swore that you were never going to have kids. Well, maybe not never, but certainly not soon. George had talked to you about it, but respected that you didn’t feel ready and it wasn’t like you both were getting up there in age.

Now, you are sure that George had an ulterior motive than simply spending time with you and his family on a boat after driving around Monaco with his niece and nephew. One moment you were talking with his parents, and the next you are watching him gently hold a baby.

“Makes you want one, doesn’t it,” Alison says, noticing who you are looking at.

“No, not yet. But he does look utterly adorable holding her,” you say, ignoring the bit of baby fever growing in you. Okay, maybe a baby wouldn’t be so bad. It would be the cutest combination of you and George, and it would be a wonderful companion for when George is away. Oh, and showing up to races in a little race suit, then taking your kid karting just like it’s Daddy.

“Enjoy being young and child free, there is no rush,” she reassures you. You give her a thankful smile and stand up, walking over to George.

“Hi, Baby,” you coo, taking George’s niece from him. You may not want a kid yet, but you adored George’s nieces and nephew. George both loves and hates seeing you with the kids. He loves the way that you care for them, but he hates that it makes him want to have kids with you when you aren’t ready. It’s this moment that solidifies to him that he wants to marry you.

“Alright, it’s baby’s feeding time,” you pout as your favorite baby is taken from you.

“Auntie y/n!” Milly runs over and jumps onto the spot beside you.

“My favorite Milly!” you hug her. “did Georgie abandon you?” you ask her, hearing the jet ski out on the ocean.

“He’s with Leo on the jet ski,” Milly pouts.

“Well, that just means you get to spend time with the better one of us,” you say and wrap your arms around her. She looks tired from the sun as she rests her head on your shoulder. The two of you chat while George takes Leo on a ride.

“When are you and Uncle Georgie getting married?” she yawns.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, someday,” you gently squeeze her, letting her fall asleep on your shoulder. That’s how George finds the two of you, he quickly snaps a photo.

The family has been taking a lot of photos on this boat day trip with the intent of making a photo album. The sun is starting to set, so you head back to shore. You wake Milly up, reluctantly carrying her back to her parents.

“We will see you tomorrow for breakfast,” you stand a few steps behind George as he hugs his family goodbye. You follow behind, making your rounds before going back to his apartment.

“I am wiped, that sun makes me want to nap for a year,” you yawn as you enter the apartment.

“Cuddles sound nice,” George wraps his arms around you, his chin resting on your head. You hug him back, soaking in the moment.

“Go take a shower, then join me in bed,” you tell him, knowing he will want to clean the seawater off of himself. You quickly strip and put on one of his shirts before crawling in bed. George joins you a minute later.

“The kids love you, you are a natural with them,” he says, pulling you close.

“Please, the image of you holding the baby made me consider having a baby right now. You are dad material,” you chuckle as George blushes.

“You looked just as beautiful holding her too,” he says, kissing the top of your head. You turn so you can look at him.

“I know we don’t want a baby right now, but we can always practice making one,” you wiggle your eyebrows causing him to laugh.

“You minx,” George grins, leaning down to kiss you.

It is safe to say that you practiced once or twice that night. George proposes in front of his family the next night, you are quick to say yes. A year later, you get married in a small ceremony back in England.

A few years later, once George is more settled with the career, and you have traveled the world together, you decide that if you were to get pregnant, both of you wouldn’t be upset, but you weren’t going to make a conscious effort to have a baby as soon as possible. You are both enjoying the aunt and uncle life, anyway.

A year later, you are sitting in the doctors office, a rare day mid season that George can join you, waiting to find out the gender of your baby. You could’ve found out months ago, but your appointments always seemed to be when George was away at a race. He always did make sure to fly you to close races and come home as often as possible.

“What do you want?” you ask your husband, who is standing beside you, playing with your hair.

“A healthy mom and baby,” he smiles as you roll your eyes.

“Boring answer. You are such a girl dad, so I hope it’s a baby girl,” you tell him, gently rubbing your stomach. You just know it’s a girl.

You were right, you sent a selfie of you and George with the sonogram and the gender to the Russell family group chat.

“Should we announce it?” You ask George. Since you were well into the second trimester, you haven’t been to a race in at least a month, and fans were getting curious.

“Do you want to? I don’t want fans to overwhelm you,” George holds the car door open for you, extending his hand for you to hold as you climb in.

“I think I’m ready, we should before rumors start,” you tell him once he gets into the drivers seat.

“I will follow your lead, my love,” he tells you. You have a maternity shoot the next day, so you wait until you get the photos back to announce it. The outpouring support is overwhelming, and the fans are excited to see you at the Monaco Grand Prix. It makes you all the more excited for your little family.

George is incredibly thoughtful throughout the pregnancy, always having meals delivered to you, and he is a new level of clingy when he is home with you. You don’t mind because you are getting doted on when your body feels awful, so the idea of letting him do everything is appealing. He does hate the body pillow, he cannot wait until he can easily cuddle you again.

“George, I love you and this baby, but I want her out and I wish we never had sex,” you groan, your whole body aching as you struggle to keep your breath even when speaking.

“I heard that sex can help speed up labor,” George says and you perk up.

“Let’s have sex,” you tell him eagerly, just wanting to not be pregnant anymore.

“You have such a way with words, darling, so seductive,” he jokes, helping you off the chair you are sitting on.

“Let’s go, you got me into this mess a few years ago while holding a baby, now it’s time to get me out of it.”

[tooearlyforthis]

Be Mine

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: (5.8k wc) After what felt like forever pining after her friend, Y/n finally got asked out on Valentine's Day. Or, at least she thinks she did.

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, a little angst, no beta this already took too long

masterlist || steve harrington taglist

Happy Fourth of July! What better way to celebrate than posting the Valentine's fic I never finished in time cause life is crazy right now?

The coffee shop bustled as the morning sun rose. Locals grabbed their cup of joe before the start of a long work day and while most groaned in protest, Y/n craved it.

The start of a new day and the endless possibilities it might hold excited her. Though, her days almost always ended in the exact same way. She would show up early, order the two coffee orders she memorized years before, and grab a table. Her companion was always late, on the days they drove separately at least. 

But still, she arrived at least 10 minutes before their scheduled time. Partly because the morning line could get crazy long, but mostly so she could people watch. Sitting and watching the daily lives of the people in her hometown made her see how vastly different people led their lives. 

She could be like Dr. Reinfeld who arrived in the first wave of the morning rush, quick to get his black coffee before running off to surgery. Or she could live more relaxed like Deborah McCallister who worked as a waitress at Enzo’s on Main Street. That woman was always so kind to her, coming over to talk most days.

“And the butcher shop is still going well?” Deborah asked, her hand leaning on the chair opposite Y/n for balance.

Y/n nodded. “Meat won’t sell itself,” she joked.

The older woman laughed, probably a little too hard as she reached for another sip of coffee. Y/n only smiled, offering a small chuckle in return.

“Well it isn’t my two favorite ladies!” 

The two women looked over by the door where Steve Harrington sauntered in with a grin. He was wearing a pretty basic outfit. Straight jeans, Nike’s, and a stripped shirt with his Family Video vest over top. But god, did he look good. Y/n couldn’t help but stare at the way his hair bounced with every step as he walked over to greet her. 

Deborah got to Steve first, engulfing him in a huge hug. “Oh Steven, you look taller every time I see you!” she exclaimed.

“You’re just saying that to be nice,” he told her, pulling away but giving her a wink. 

Deborah hit his arm slightly, clearly amused by the young boy. “I have to get going, you two have a lovely morning.”

“You too, Mrs. McCallister,” Y/n replied as the woman left. Steve quickly sat down in her absence, reaching over to grab the coffee Y/n had ordered for him. She knew his order by heart and Steve found that the drink tasted perfect against his tongue. “Wow, suck up.”

He put the drink back down, finishing his last sip with an emphasized gulp. “Hey, I’m not a suck up. The ladies just love me.”

“Oh really?” He took a sip from his cup, agreeing with a hum. 

Steve wasn’t wrong, though Y/n would never let him know that. Here she was, knowing him personally for only a few years and she already found herself falling for him. It would never happen, she was sure, and she was fine letting her infatuation stay just a silly crush.

But some days she wondered what her life would have been like if she hadn’t been babysitting Dustin that day in 1984. If his “pet” hadn’t escaped, if they didn’t look towards Steve Harrington for help. There would be less monsters in her life that was for sure. But then again, she wouldn’t trade it for anything else. She wouldn’t have known Steve had changed; wouldn’t have become close friends with him. And she wouldn’t be sitting in this coffee shop before work, chatting with the only other person in their party who wasn’t in high school.

“How was your night?” Y/n asked, pulling herself out of her thoughts. Her and Steve usually got dinner after work if their shifts matched, but last night he had to cancel for some unknown reason.

Steve’s face scrunched at her question, shaking his head vigorously. “Not really a topic I wanna visit right now…how about you?”

What about her? Steve canceled the only night she had been looking forward to in weeks. Her parents were always at work, the kids swarmed with school work. There was nothing but him.

She shrugged, trying to play it off like it was nothing. “You know, it was fine.”

“Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” He said it so nonchalantly she almost choked on her muffin. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Y/n felt like her heart skipped a beat as she tried to hide her surprised expression. He just asked her out right? He totally did. “We can have dinner.”

She tried to stay calm, to not seem too eager to say yes. Spending Valentine’s Day with Steve felt like a dream come true. Never in a million years did she think that he would like her back.

“Sure,” she said, trying to stay calm. She looked down at her coffee to try and hide her reddening cheeks. “I would love to.”

“Cool,” Steve replied, not looking at her but rather his watch. “Shit we’re both gonna be late we should go.”

With no other mention of it, no more discussions of the night to come, they left for their respective shifts. But throughout the day, for Y/n at least, she couldn’t stop thinking about the night to come. This date would change everything about their relationship and she couldn’t wait.

Her palms were sweaty. How did she get them to not be sweaty? Turning up the air conditioner in her car, she held her hands out, letting them dry against the air. How was a night like this even happening? She never thought someone like Steve would like her. He had the looks in high school and once he became nicer it was like a package deal. 

She spent too long that afternoon getting ready and deciding what to wear. She was nervous because she didn’t know what Steve planned for them. In the end, she decided on a pair of jeans and a low-cut shirt. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to be wearing something like that but it was sure to catch his eye. Walking up to the front door, she dried her hands on her jeans one more time. Then, she knocked.

Steve answered nonchalantly, wearing pajamas bottoms and a t-shirt. Y/n was a little confused. Was this how he showed up to all his dates? Suddenly, she felt overdressed, even when he glanced down at her chest -- the very reason she wore that shirt. Looking away quickly, Steve ushered her inside.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, come on in,” he said. “I ordered a pizza, it should be here soon.”

Nodding, she entered. She had been in the Harrington home so many times before but now it felt different. There were stakes with every step, every interaction could determine how the night would end. She followed him into the living room, watching as he lazily fell onto the couch.

“You wanna watch a movie?” he asked. 

It made her falter for a moment. Here she was with the man of her dreams on Valentine’s Day and they were doing what they would do any other night. He put no effort into it. Nothing to make her feel wanted on the romantic holiday. 

“Sure,” she said, sitting down next to him. She placed her bag on the coffee table before leaning back, trying not to get too comfortable. 

He put on Fast Times which wasn’t what she would’ve expected for a date, but then again Steve really liked the movie. She tried to enjoy it, tried to think that this date wasn’t letting down every expectation she set for herself. But as the movie went on and Steve’s interest was more in his lap than her or the movie, she felt her last bits of hope slowly fall.

“Is everything okay?” she decided to ask. Figuring that maybe something else would be the root of why this date was so shitty.

He looked up at her with a shrug. “It’s nothing, not something the two of us usually talk about.”

That made her perk up. What was the forbidden subject he was speaking of? “Try me.”

“Are you sure?”

She waved her hands. “Go for it.”

Sitting up, he turned to face her on the couch, crossing his legs in front of him. “It’s just- I went on this date with Nicole on Thursday and it was just another blah date you know? There was nothing special about it and it just got me thinking about if dating is even worth it at this point.”

He kept talking but the words began to muffle as Y/n’s thoughts took over her mind. He went on a date with Nicole. On the day that they were supposed to hang out. And above all this, he’s telling her about it while on a date with her. 

Steve went on about finding the one and how he didn’t think it would be possible in the small town of Hawkins but Y/n was focusing too hard on trying not to cry. This wasn’t a date at all. He invited her over on Valentine’s Day to hang out and she had made it out to be her dream come true. 

How could she allow herself to think this way? To get so worked up over a friend that she was on the verge of tears? She was frustrated, confused, even embarrassed that she had even assumed he wanted to date her. Y/n wanted to leave, to run out his front door and try to forget like the night had even happened. But still she remained frozen in her seat as Steve rambled on.

When Steve finally stopped, looking at her to answer a question she didn’t even hear him ask, his expression turned worrisome. Tilting his head, he tried to move closer to her. “Hey what’s wrong?”

Why was she still there? Why was she letting herself feel this way? There was nothing stopping her from leaving. She could get up and walk out the front door if she wanted to - and so she did. 

Standing up, Y/n grabbed her bag that she placed next to her. “I just remembered,” she said, clearing her throat. “I-I have to help Max with something just— I need to go.”

“O-okay,” he responded warily. Where was this coming from? “Do you need me to walk you to—”

“Nope!” She was already heading toward the door without a second glance. “See you later, Steve.”

The door slammed before he could say more. She didn’t want him to. Didn’t want him to see how she let the tears flow as she walked to her car. How she blasted the music loud on her drive home to distract her. She needed to distance herself from him. This felt like a wake up call, someone telling her to get over him and figure her own shit out before seeing him again.

She wanted to stay friends with him, she really did. But after tonight, she didn’t know how that was possible. 

After Y/n stormed out of his house, Steve was confused. She had such a good memory that she never would have forgotten if Max needed help. Nevertheless he watched her go, unable to question her more before leaving. 

Steve was supposed to see her the next day anyway, picking her up for coffee before their similarly-timed shifts. But when he knocked on her door that morning, ready to see one of his best friends, he was confused yet again.

“I’m not feeling the best,” she told him. “I’m just gonna drive myself today.”

“Okay do you need—” The door closed before he could finish his sentence. “Anything…” he finished to himself.

Y/n’s behavior for the past two days was so unlike her that Steve began to question everything. What was going on? Did she need help? Did he do something to offend her? 

It wasn’t until an hour into his shift a few days later did Robin confront him about it. 

“Okay dude,” Robin began. “You’ve been in a sour mood all morning, what's up?”

“Y/n’s been acting weird,” he told her, knowing the two girls were also friends. “I-I don’t know why, I guess I’m just concerned for her.”

“Have you actually tried asking her?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not that stupid okay?” He jumped up on the counter, resting his hands on either side of his legs. “She slammed the door in my face last time I tried to talk to her.”

“Sheesh.”

“Yeah, I know. And she hasn’t called me at all. She would always call me at night ya know? On day we couldn’t see each other? I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

The bell in the front of the store rang, indicating someone entering the otherwise empty store. “Well you can ask her again,” Robin told him, motioning to the door where Y/n had just walked in. 

He jumped off the counter immediately, fixing his shirt as she walked up to the counter. “H-hey how are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Fine,” she dismissed, barely making eye contact with him. When she finally glanced up, she was looking over his shoulder. “Robin, would you mind helping look for a tape?”

His coworker glanced at him for a moment before going back to their mutual friend. “Sure, yeah.”

Steve watched as they walked off toward the romance movies leaving him completely dumbfounded. What happened that was so bad she wouldn’t even look at him? As he contemplated to himself how to get his friend back to normal, the front doorbell rang again.

El and Max strode in, giggling to themselves as they made their way in front of Steve. He groaned when he saw them. “What do you two shit heads want?”

“Pump the brakes, dude, we just came in for a tape,” Max said with attitude though he guessed he deserved it.

“We already paid for it,” El chimed in. “Robin said it was here?”

He looked over to where Robin and Y/n had walked off to. Only Robin was visible from behind the shelves and he couldn’t make out a word or what she was saying. By facial expressions alone he could tell they were talking about what was bothering Y/n and it pained him that she wouldn’t tell him any details.

“Earth to Steve?” Max called out, making him realize he had been staring off, not answering the kids in front of him.

“Sorry, uh, I’ll go get it from the back,” he mumbled, walking away.

He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. But over the past two years of getting to know Y/n, it’s like he couldn’t remember life before her. The air felt lighter with her around, her presence never failing to put a smile on his face. 

So when that all suddenly disappeared, it felt like his world was falling apart. He had to know what he did. He had to know how to repair their relationship. Because if he doesn’t, well, he don’t know how he’ll survive.

By the time Steve emerged from the back room where the reserved tapes were kept, Y/n was gone and Robin say chatting with the girls from behind the counter. The stopped talking as he approached. 

“Here, girls,” Steve said, sliding the tape across the table. 

“Thanks,” El said with a smile. She took the tape, both girls turning to leave.

“Hey, Red,” he called out. Both of them turned around, but Max knew the nickname was directed at her. 

“Yeah?” Max said, slightly annoyed. He could tell she just wanted to leave and watch their movie.

“What did Y/n need help with on Saturday?” 

Max’s eyes furrowed, her nose scrunching up. “Saturday?” Steve nodded to confirm. “I didn’t see Y/n Saturday, I was with Lucas.”

“Oh,” he said, the pieces forming in his mind. Y/n lied to him. Actually lied. They had never kept things from each other but to flat out lie to get away from him? Steve felt more hurt than ever before. “Never mind, I must be remembering wrong.”

“Okay…” Max said, still confused. Nevertheless, she turned back with El, leaving with their movie.

There was a rage bubbling inside Steve and it felt like he finally reached his boiling point. As the door closed, the bell above it ringing out, he pivoted on his heel to Robin. She was still sitting behind the counter on a stool, looking down at a book she had brought to read during their shift. 

“She lied,” he announced.

Robin looked up confused. “Huh?”

“Y/n, she lied to me. When she left my house she said that she forgot she needed to help Max with something but she didn’t. Max said she was with Lucas.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, a knowing look across his face. He knew her long enough to know she was withholding her opinion.

“She told you, didn’t she? When she came in?” Shrugging, Robin ignored the question. “Come on, what did I do?”

She titled her head at him. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Steve sighed, hopping up on the counter. He rested his hands on either side of him at the edge. “No, I don’t.”

Rolling her eyes and with an unapologetic tone, she asked,” When was the last time you saw her?”

He shook his head, “Saturday.”

“No, Steve, what was the date?”

Today was the 16th so working backwards….Steve’s eyes went wide. “Shit,” he cursed. “I asked her to hang out on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Fuck, were we on a date?”

“I mean, her extremely attractive best friend who she’s been in love with for like ever, asked her out on the most romantic day of the year. How was she not supposed to think it was a date?”

Steve rubbed his hands over his face. How could he be so stupid? How could he make such a careless--

“Wait,” he paused, looking up from his hands. “She’s in love with me?”

“Well, yeah,” Robin said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s been crushing on you since forever, did you not know that?”

“Of course I didn’t know that!” He hopped off the counter, surging toward her. Robin’s shoulder shot up in surprise as his hands landed on her knees. “I-gosh I messed up, Robs. Big time.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she replied, pushing his hands off of her. 

He stumbled back, raking a hand through his hair. To think, one of his closest friends liked him, and he was oblivious. He had been crushing on her from the first time he laid eyes on her. He still remembered it like it was yesterday.

That little shit Henderson showed up at the Wheeler house, forcing him to come look at his basement at the demodog he stupidly was keeping at a pet. Y/n was there, his babysitter apparently. It was already dark out as they approached Dustin’s house, flashlights in their hands as they approached the basement doors. 

Y/n was sitting there with her own flashlight, waiting for help as she tapped her foot against the ground. When their lights shined on her, she stood up. Steve felt like the wind was knocked out of him. She was a natural beauty, that was for sure. The way she stood so sure of herself, so confident in every choice she made. It was hard not to fall for her. 

And in the days, weeks, years following, she only proved more lovable. She laughed at his stupid jokes, the ones the kids groaned and moaned over. She noticed when he wasn’t feeling well, remembered obscure things he was sure he had only brought up once. Steve had only started dating other girls to distract himself from the fact he could never be with her.

To think not only she liked him back, but they had already been on a date? It made him feel awful in ways he didn’t think possible. 

“Rob,” Steve began. “I gotta make it up to her. I-I can’t lose her, she’s the best thing to happen to my life.”

Despite his anguished look, Robin smirked. “I think I have an idea.”

To say Y/n was having a tough week would be an understatement. She didn’t expect the rejection from her best friend to hurt this much. But there she was, a week after Valentine’s day, canceling yet another coffee morning with Steve. 

She had barely seen him since that day she stopped by Family Video, and was thankful that she didn’t need to see him in the following days. Work had been borderline unbearable 

Y/n had barely been home for five minutes after her Friday shift when there was a pounding at her door.  She recognized the banging immediately as Robin - it was not the first time this week she had done this.

“I know you’re home, L/m! I saw your car in the driveway,” Robin said, muffled slightly, by the door.

Sighing, Y/n walked over to the door, swinging it open wide. Her friend was quick to walk in, not waiting for an invitation. “You’re interrupting my ice cream dinner,” Y/n told her.

“No ice cream tonight!” Robin exclaimed. She pointed a out a finger. “No more wallowing over some stupid guy.”

Y/n crossed her arms. “That guy is both of our friends.”

“And he is still stupid. Nance invited me to a party, and you’re going too.”

Groaning, she said, “I don’t think I’m up for that tonight.”

“Well tough luck!” Robin surged forward, pushing on Y/n’s shoulders until she was forced to take a step up the stairway. “You’re going.”

Maybe Robin was right. Maybe a party was what she needed to get back on her feet. A night out with her friends, to get stupidly drunk and take her mind off things for a while. Knowing Robin wouldn’t stop pestering, Y/n reluctantly let her push her up the stairs.

Before she knew it she was dressed, standing outside a house she didn’t know. It didn’t really matter when a party was happening. If you knew there was a party you could show up, didn’t matter if you knew the person hosting it. 

It was loud as they squeezed through the propped open front door, music filling their ears at a deafening level. 

“Nance and Jonathan said we’d meet upstairs!” Robin yelled over the noise. “We’ll group up there and head down together!”

“Sounds good!” Y/n yelled back, desperately trying to grip Robin’s hand in an attempt not to lose her. The house was so crowded she was afraid if she let go, she wouldn’t find her friend again.

Robin seemed to know her way around the home, quickly navigating to the stairs. They climbed over a couple making out at the base, squeezing to one side to pass people descending from the second floor. The sounds of music grew softer the further up they went, less people making it easier to walk. 

They were finally able to speak at a reasonable volume. “She said it was a guest room,” Robin informed Y/n. 

She only nodded in response, still blindly following her friend. Robin opened a door, ushering for her to go in first. She was right it was a guest room, and she didn’t like the guest she saw in it.

Steve was perched on the edge of the bed. He was hunched over, playing with his hands as they rested against his thighs. When she walked into the room, she stood up.

Y/n felt all the color drain from her face. She turned around without thinking, trying to find an escape. Robin has already closed the door behind her, locking it. Still Y/n turned the door knob, hoping that with rapid tugging it would magically open - it did not.

She banged on the door with an open palm. “Rob, let me out, you can’t do this!”

“You guys need to talk!” Her friend shouted back, and Y/n knew there was no point in begging an further.

She slowly turned back around, a pit in her stomach. This was not how she wanted to face him. So soon, so suddenly. She tucked her hands behind her back, leaning until she was flush with the door. Looking at him was proving to be harder than she thought, but when she finally gazed up at him, she could see he moved closer. His was still fidgeting with his hands, swaying back and forth between his feet.

“I’ll be back later!” Robin yelled for the last time, footsteps slowly fading from earshot.

“I don’t know why Robin thinks she needs to lock us in a room to get us to speak,” Y/n elected to say, looking back down. Maybe ignoring what she felt would make their problem go away.

Steve scoffed. “Maybe cause you haven’t spoken to me in over a week. When was the last time we went that long without communicating?”

A beat. It was silent, the only sounds coming from the party still raging on outside. Y/n didn’t know how to respond to that. He was right, of course, but saying it out loud proved to be too much.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “I didn’t realize it was Valentine’s Day and I should’ve known better—“

“It’s fine, really,” she said with a shrug, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. The quicker she dismissed the misunderstanding, the quicker they could go on and forget how much she embarrassed herself. “It was stupid of me to assume it was a date anyways.”

When he didn’t say anything return, Y/n looked up. He was looking down at his hands, his eyebrows furrowed as his forehand scrunched down. She knew him well enough to know he was trying to gather his thoughts.

“Ever since Nance,” he began and Y/n thought she could die right there. Of course he was brining up his ex. They were all friends now, sure, but the mention of her in the context of his love life still made her grimace. “Ever since we broke up, it’s been hard for me to see the signs that a girl likes me.”

Oh, this is how he was choosing to let her down easy? She felt her cheeks reddened, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. She would give anything to leave, to run out of this room and never speak about it again. But of course, the door was still locked behind her.

Steve continued. “Even when I was actively on a date or hitting on a random girl at Scoops, I just never got my groove back….I think it’s partly because I was trying to get over you and I thought it would make me feel better.”

Something in Y/n’s brain short circuited as the words left his mouth. “W-wait,” she stopped him. He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time that night. “You liked me?”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he took a step forward. “I never stopped. Which is why I am so, so sorry for last week. I really hoped when we ever went on a day, I would be smart enough to know that it was one.”

Despite the hurt that he had caused, despite being angry with him for over a week, Y/n couldn’t help but let a small smile form on her lips. A small chuckle came out with it. She looked up at him. He was taller than her, standing a few inches above her own height, but that didn’t inhibit her from looking into his eyes. 

“Do you really mean it?” she asked him, her voice soft despite being the only two in the room. “Cause I-I don’t think I can get hurt like that again. You’re one of my best friends and I can’t lose you-“

She couldn’t finish her sentence as he leaned in. The taste of shitty beer filled her mouth as his lips slotted against hers. His woodsy cologne taking over all of her sense of smell. Steve’s hand rested on the small of her back, slightly pushing her into him as his other hand rested against her cheek.

Y/n thought that this is what princesses must feel like when they finally kiss their prince. The overwhelming sense of completion, like they didn’t know a part of them had been missing until that very moment. He took over every sensation of her body, like they were becoming one with every movement of his mouth against hers. 

When he pulled away, she couldn’t help but sigh at the loss of contact. Steve’s breath, still strong with beer, was against her as he stared at her from mere inches away. She found she couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a sentence. By the way he was smiling she knew she was blushing hard.

“You’ll never lose me,” he said, the hand on her back rubbing small circles to sooth her. “I’m yours, okay?”

Y/n smiled again, forcing herself to nod. “Okay.”

“Sooooo,” he began, drawing out his words. “Does this mean you can be my valentine?”

She chuckled, leaning down into his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft against her cheek. She could feel his lips pressed a kiss on her hairline. Gentle, tender, lovingly.  Looking back up, she did nothing to hide her smile. It etched across her face, her lips turning upward.

“Yes,” she said,  “I’d love to be.”

Their mouths reconnected so quickly, she barely had time to finish her words. She could feel Steve grinning against her mouth as he used on hand to cup the back of her head. The other found its way to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Lips danced in unison, slowly exploring each other’s mouths, but Y/n couldn’t help focus on the growing bulge pressed into her thigh.

Smirking, she pressed further into him. Steve groaned as she practically grinded into him, making him stumble back slightly. But Y/n didn’t stop there. She kept pushing, moving him back until his calves hit the edge of the bed. 

It one clumsy motion, Steve fell back, pulling Y/n with him. They both yelped as they hit the mattress, bouncing lightly before their bodies sunk in. Y/n placed a hand above his head to stop herself from falling onto him, her legs on either side of his body. Steve’s hand was still wrapped around her back, now clutching at the fabric of her shirt. 

After they finally settled in, the mattress becoming still, they couldn’t help but laugh. Steve’s head fell back as he chuckled, his neck stretching up so enticingly. Y/n wanted to suck there, find what made him tick. That spot that would make him crumble under her touch. 

Looking back into her eyes, she said, “I could get used to this view.”

Grinning, Y/n replied, “You and me both.”

She was about to lean forward, to kiss him on the part of his neck she so desperately wanted to feel when she heard the turn of the door lock. Y/n and Steve’s stares shot to the door, watching as Robin began to walk in.

“Okay has everyone made up- oh my god!” Robin covered her face. “My eyes! My eyes!” She shut the door without saying anything more. 

Steve groaned, making Y/n turn back to him. He had his eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched as his head fell back against the mattress. “Oh we’ll never hear the end of this,” he said.

Y/n slumped back against the bed next to him, the sheets creasing inward at her weight. “No, I don’t think we will.” She couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. “I’m sorry it’s not funny.”

Steve chuckled, tiling his head to look at her. “It kind of is, we almost gave her a heart attack.”Y/n laughed again, pulling a hand up to cover her mouth. “She could use a little scare with all the Vickie shit she put us through.”

“Oh I can still remember those days before their first date.” 

“It was like a tornado went through my house.” 

As their laughs faded, she couldn’t help but stair into his eyes. They were so beautiful, despite being just a plain brown. To her, they were as rich as the coffee they drank most mornings. As warm as the setting sun when she would get off of a shift, Steve waiting to pick her up in his BMW. She could stare at them for hours on end.

“We…we should probably go back to the party,” Steve said reluctantly. “Before she starts blabbering.”

“Probably,” Y/n replied, though neither of them made a move to leave. They stayed on the bed, laying on their backs. Her arm was basically overlapping his and she could feel the most touch of his finger caressing her own. Looking down the length of his body, she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the bulge in his pants. “Will you be okay going back with that?”

He looked down too, realizing what she was talking about. He groaned, like he suddenly remembered the aching problem in his jeans. “Yeah yeah, I just have to think of something sad like hurt puppies or-“

“Or,” she interrupting him, moving closer against his side. She fully clasped her hand in his, bringing up her other to trace a line down the center of his chest. “We can stay up here for a few more minutes. I happen to know a much quicker way to deal with your problem.”

Steve took in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising under her fingers. His eyebrows raised too, like he wasn’t expecting her to be this bold. Without saying anything else, he bolted upright in the bed, making Y/n fall back against the mattress. When she looked up, she saw him running to the door, turning the inside lock to occupied. She giggled at the insinuation, even though she was the one who initiated it. 

And as Steve sauntered back over to the bed, leaning over to plant another kiss upon her lips, she couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she was his, and he was hers. 

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen @blckburd

[frenchkisstheabyss]

🖤 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖆𝖓 🖤

🖤 Pairing: ex boyfriend!choi san x chubby!fem!reader (mingi's spoken about but doesn't appear)

🖤 Genre: angst/fluff/smut

🖤 Summary: You make a living stepping on men's necks, literally and metaphorically speaking. Men spend every dime they have for the chance to be your lapdog. You are their weakness. Your dirty little secret? You have a weakness of your own, one you've tried your hardest to leave in the past, but you've managed to make him jealous and, oh, I think he's knocking on your door right now.

🖤 Word Count: 2.3k-ish

🖤 Warnings: reader works as a dom so she does qualify as a ✨sex worker✨ & it's treated as a positive cause slay queen, jealous /possessive San, unprotected sex, fingering, nibbling, scratching, reader for sure has a lil praise kink, this man does not pull out, San's giving dom vibes & reader's quite subby for him, pet names (baby, my girl, good girl) & that's all darlings

🖤 A/N: My chubby girl smut agenda continues with this fic as it will with all others and the best part is, no one can stop me. Mwahahahaha. No, but really, I hope you lovelies enjoy reading it.

Also a big thanks to @anyamaris for test reading everything my brain throws out all of the time. Love of my life, truly.

Your night routine is sacred. Never more so than on nights like tonight when you take extra steps to make it particularly romantic for yourself. You treat yourself like a lover, running a nice warm bubble bath and preparing your favorite fruits to snack on while you soak in it. You don’t rush to cover your body afterward, instead taking the time to find pleasure in every stretch mark and every curve as you massage rich tropical oils into your skin. 

The rain is your companion, singing to you in the form of raindrops patting at your window. Candles burn on your windowsill, tiny lanterns reflecting shadows in the darkness of this place you call home. Crawling into your bed, you slip beneath your freshly washed sheets and scroll through your phone to find the right song. It doesn’t take long to find it. You hit “play” and close your eyes, ready to be swept away by the sweet notes emanating from your phone. 

This is serenity. This is heaven. This is—

“What the actual fuck?” you shout, shaken by an unexpected knock at your door. The knocking is impatient, the agitation of the person on the other end undeniable. You jump from your bed, the sheet still clinging to your figure, and cautiously approach the door. You specifically didn’t schedule any sessions for tonight and your clients know better than to pop up unannounced. 

“Whoever you are, go away! I have a gun!” You do. You have to. In your line of business being able to protect yourself is a necessity. It’d be silly not to have one and if ever there were an example why, this has to be it. The knocking stops. A brief moment of silence passes and then—

“You have a gun?” San asks, more confused than he is threatened. You don’t notice until now that you’ve been holding your breath this entire time but at the sound of his voice, you can miraculously breathe again. “San? What are you doing here?” you frown, cracking the door enough to get a good look at your ex.

The look is, in fact, good. Better than good, it’s wonderful. For all of this mysterious frustration he seems to be carrying, he still manages to be the most handsome thing you can imagine finding in your hallway near midnight. 

San pushes past you, marching into your cozy studio apartment as if it were his own. “We need to talk. Now.” You roll your eyes, holding back laughter as you close the door behind him. “Someone’s sassy tonight” you tease, watching as he removes his wet boots and coat. He places them exactly where they’re meant to go.

You smile to yourself, finding it sweet that he still remembers how things go after nearly a year apart. “Don’t patronize me.” “I’m not patronizing you,” you say, approaching him with a hand outstretched to stroke his cheek, “Sannie—” 

San takes a step back, the darkness in his eyes intensified by your attempt at affection. “And don’t call me that!” “Lower your voice! This is my home. You can respect me in it or get out.” Seeing you upset cools him down a bit. Enough to question the emotions that led him to drive over here to begin with.

He shouldn’t be here. He has no right to confront you. To care what you do or who you do it with. But it’s been eating him up inside for days, plaguing his every waking thought. Some part of him is still tethered to you and that’s why, against his better judgment, he’s here.

“Are you…” he stutters, the anger bubbling up once more at the thought of what he’s about to ask, “How long has Mingi been coming to you?” “Ah,” you gasp, fully realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Dodging eye contact, you head for the kitchen, busying yourself with the tea kettle. “You want some tea? We should have tea.”

Raking his fingers through delicate strands of pitch black hair, he approaches the kitchen and lets himself, for the most fleeting of moments, enjoy seeing you like this again. He’s missed you making him tea late at night. This would be everything he ever wanted under any other circumstance than this. “I don’t want tea. I want you to answer my question. How long?”

“A few weeks” you sigh, abandoning the kettle on the counter, “We ran into each other at the club one night and we started talking then, I mean, I don’t know, it just sorta happened.” In an instant, he’s on you, fingers squeezing your wrists as he presses you against the counter. “Things like this don’t sorta happen!” “Oh, come on, San. I have bills to pay. If I don’t take on clients, who’s gonna pay them? You?” “Haven’t I before?” Something about being reminded of before makes you as breathless as he is. “That was a long time ago.” 

A long time ago but why does it feel like yesterday when he last had your body pressed against every wall in this apartment? So many hours were spent using your fingertips to traverse every exquisite muscle on his body. There are new ones now, you see them flex when he readjusts his grip on you. How good they must feel to touch. God bless the gym.

Shaking yourself free of your lust fueled daze, you break your wrists loose from him. “If that’s all you can go.” Why are you doing this? Why are you so stubborn? You don’t want him to go. Your body—your heart—begs him to stay even if it’s just to argue for the rest of the night. 

“Fine, I’ll leave, but not until you tell me one more thing. Does he touch you? Like I did?” he asks, his expression cold as he tries to contain his jealousy. “Touch me like you did?” you giggle, reaching to stroke his cheek again. This time he doesn’t step away. He lets you touch him, your soft hand warming the cool raindrops on his cheek. A fire ignites in his eyes, not unlike the flames dancing atop the candle wicks. It’s distant, buried somewhere deep, but you see it and it makes you smile.

“I never let anyone touch me like you did” you whisper, “Mingi just wants someone to boss him around. I happen to be good at that. There’s nothing sexual. I could…” San tugs the sheet tightly around your body, gathering the two loose ends at your hip where his knuckles just barely graze the plush of your thigh. You let out a sound that’s almost a moan but not quite. He smirks, bringing his other hand to your side to massage the softness of your love handles. You're so cute when you’re flustered.

“I, uh, I…” you stutter, watching as his lips grow nearer to yours, “I could stop seeing him if you want.” “You’d do that for me?” San asks, teasing your lower lip with his. “I would do anything for you. You know that.” This is what he does to you and this is why you broke things off with him. San’s love brings you to your knees. You fold for him in a millisecond. You’re supposed to have every man in the palm of your hand yet you find yourself, delicate and fragile, nestled in his. 

“Will you do something else for me?” “Like what?” “Kiss me.” And you do. No hesitation. No time for second guesses. Anything for him. A rush hits you, threatening to knock you off of your feet. San only holds you closer, his tongue tangling with yours, indulging in the taste of you. A craving much overdue to be satisfied. 

“Do I still have to leave?” he pants, his voice a low rasp as he kisses his way down your chin. He buries his face in your neck, his kisses growing more passionate with each passing second. You smell good enough to eat and he almost does, nibbling at your neck sharply enough to send chills down your spine. You shake your head, wrapping a leg around his waist to grind against him. The simple act of kissing you has him hard enough that not even the few layers of fabric between you can suppress his need. 

“Fuck, baby” he groans, his eyes nearly rolling back from the rhythm of your hips. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him back up for another kiss. “Don’t leave me, Sannie. Please.” You’re prepared to beg more, as much as he wants you to, but your words turn incoherent at the sensation of his thumb stroking your clit. His other fingers dance dangerously close to your entrance, happily collecting the juices dripping from your core.

You look down to find that the sheet barely clings to your body, except for a small corner stuck between you and the counter. Everything has fallen away leaving you completely exposed. San’s favorite way to have you. “You’re so wet for me. My girl” he coos, easing two fingers deep into you, “Still my girl? Hmm?” You’re trembling, gripping his shirt as you ride his fingers in time with the flicking of his wrist.

Only he could do this. Make you feel this unbelievably good with just his fingers. "Always your girl. Always—ah” you moan into his mouth before he’s kissing his way down your neck again. The way your back is arched makes your breasts sit so deliciously that he has to taste them. San needs to feel the weight of them in his hands as he captures your perked nipples between his lips, circling them with his tongue. 

His mouth is so full of you that every moan that leaves him vibrates through your chest making sure that you never once underestimate the intensity of his longing. Your thighs are soaked, your pussy dripping—pulsing—clenching around his fingers. Your little squeaks and moans are too pretty. Too addictive. San picks up speed, his only mission to make a complete mess of you or to make you make a complete mess of yourself. Either or both. Definitely both. 

“Sannie. You’re gonna make me—fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry, feeling the pressure build within you. “Mmm,” he hums, releasing your nipple but not without taking one last lick of your overstimulated bud. You didn’t need to tell him. You never do. He knows when you're close, down to the second, which is why his timing is perfect when he pulls his fingers away leaving you hanging on the edge of oblivion.

You whine at the unexpected loss, your clit twitching and your walls greedy for something to hold onto. San moves out of reach, taking his time to shed his clothing. “Not on my fingers, baby,” he says, flashing that devilishly handsome smile of his, “On me.” He disappears around the corner and you trail behind him like a bright eyed puppy who wants more than anything to be the object of its owner's affection.

San sits on the edge of the bed, admiring the way your body jiggles as you skip over to him. He takes you by the hand, lowering you onto his lap, and the skin to skin contact sends a shot of adrenaline coursing through both of you. “I could just look at you all night. So beautiful” he muses, palms slapping your ass. His fingers dig in, keeping your hips raised enough that the tip of his cock almost presses at your slit.

You drape your arms over his shoulders, kissing him on the bridge of his nose, “You can look at me all you want.” One of San’s hands disappears beneath you, stroking his length as he lowers you down onto him. He stops at the tip, letting your arousal run down his shaft. “All I want because you belong to me?” You bite down on your bottom lip, eager to take him. “Yes,” you mewl and he feeds you another inch. A reward for being his good girl.

“No more Mingi?”

“No more. I swear.” 

Another inch and your heart skips a beat. This is evil. “No more anyone else” he demands, taunting you with one more inch before taking it back, “I’ll take care of you, my sweet girl. Only me.” “Only you” you promise, unintentionally batting your eyelashes in the most innocent way. San grabs your hips, slamming you down onto him, “Good now cum for me.”

Being stretched by him, full of every thick rigid inch of his cock, is intoxicating enough. But the feeling of handing over control, of letting him have you completely, has you buzzing. San bounces you in his lap, kissing you everywhere his lips can access, whispering every praise he’s saved up for you over time.

Precious. Perfect. Never letting go. Love you. My everything. My world. Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Sannie—” you draw a breath in. A flash of heat hits you and you’re lost to pleasure. Your body explodes and implodes. Heavy and weightless all at once. You gush down his length, every inch of him drenched with your juices. San doesn’t stop, not even when your nails dig deep into the skin of his shoulder. He only goes faster and harder, wanting to break you, his precious girl, and put you back together then do it again. 

But his body’s as sensitive as yours and he can’t hold back, spilling into you to the point of overflow. There’s so much warmth and fullness. It’s comforting, soothing you as you gradually float back down. Lying back on the bed, San cradles you in his arms, not wanting to be anywhere else than right here with you.

You rest your head on his chest, feeling his love for you in every breath he takes. How you ever pushed him away you can’t understand but you know, as he softly kisses your forehead, that you never will again.

[angelatmidnight1]

hii thank you for feeding us with your bg3 tickle content 😫🙏🏼 I’ve been starving. Do you have any headcanons for ler!Gale with a stoic/tsundere lee!tav? Or really any of the other companions if ur not a Gale girly. tysm ❤️ [ps. tell me if I’ve crossed any boundaries / done something wrong, first time sending an ask 🙂]

A/N: Hi! You didn't cross any boundaries. I know you said headcanons, but I hope a fic was okay instead? This prompt works nicely with my favorite tav and her relationship with Gale- she's a stoic, snooty sorceress. I kept the fic gender-neutral though. I hope you like it! 💜

Pillow Talk

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Gale Dekarios x Reader (ler!Gale, lee!reader). For the purposes of this story, reader is a sorcerer.

Word Count- 3,723.

Warnings- Spoilers for Acts 1-2 (ish), swearing, rivals to lovers in the beginning, and tickles.

As a noble-born sorcerer, there’s very little you don’t know about magic. It’s flown through your family’s veins for centuries. But, Gale’s different. He knows way more than you’d ever expect. As much as you try to deny it, you fall for him, and channeling the Weave together confirms it. Much to your surprise, the feelings are mutual. As your new relationship blossoms, Gale realizes that he’s never heard you laugh before, and he seeks to remedy that. 

“Can’t I just break it?” 

Karlach whined as she jostled the lock on the door. The lock glowed as she touched it and suddenly sent out a pulse of magical energy. She staggered back, yelping. “Shit! Guess not.”

You maneuvered around her, shaking your head. “It’s a magical lock, Karlach. I told you smashing it won’t do anything.” You stepped closer to the locked door and held up a hand. It glowed as you channeled into your magic. Closing your eyes, you traced your fingers along the lock’s sigils. “This lock is enchanted with psychic magic,” you hissed when the lock pulsed at you, stinging your hands. “And powerful psychic magic at that.”

Gale approached you from the side, humming skeptically. “I hate to be the one to disagree, but these are illusion sigils.” He traced his fingers over the same sigils as you, nodding to himself. “It’s more of a puzzle, judging by the patterns.”

You gave him a side glance, frowning. This was a recurring pattern in your journey. When it came to magic, you and Gale always had disagreements.  “...Perhaps. But there’s psychic magic at work here, Gale. Not illusion.”

Gale raised a defensive hand. “There’s room for overlap, surely. However, I think I know the solution.” His eyes glowed as he reached into the Weave and mirrored the patterns on his palm. “If I follow the patterns, like so, I believe it’ll spell out the missing key.”

“Or,” You interjected and charged up a psychic pulse between your hands. “I can overload the sigils with psychic energy and destroy them. I understand this may not have been in your textbooks though.”

“Oh, charming.” Gale’s eyes flitted over to you disdainfully. “I had not planned on mentioning rank, but since we clearly are, I spent a considerable amount of time as Mystra’s chosen. Dismantling puzzles like these was my bread and butter.”

You weren’t backing down. You went through with your spell, directly interfering with Gale’s. “Don’t you mean former Mystra’s chosen?”

“Hey, c’mon, knock it off!” Karlach scolded. “If you two put half the energy into opening the door that you use to argue with each other, we’d be on our way back to camp by now! Now, hurry up.” Her stomach growled mid sentence. She sighed. “I’m starving.”

“Gladly.” Gale sunk deep into the Weave and figured out the patterns needed to unlock the door. Your psychic magic definitely helped smooth the path forward. Karlach cheered once the door opened. 

“Fuck yeah!” She turned to both of you, beaming. “See what happens when you put your magical minds together?”

You followed her out of the dungeon, giving Gale a once over. “I see what happens when you pay attention at the wizard academy. The teachers must’ve adored you, Gale.” You huffed sarcastically. “Such a diligent schoolboy.”

Gale shook his head, smirking. “That couldn’t be any further from the truth! I slept through most of my lessons. And the trouble I found nearly got me expelled.” He chuckled. “Nevertheless, we can breathe fresh air now, thanks to our combined efforts. I hope we can work together again in more pleasant circumstances.”

“I’d sooner kiss a mind flayer.” You marched ahead of him, grumbling.

Wizards were so infuriating. Pompous, book-ridden, and proud. And yet, there was something to this Gale of Waterdeep. Something that interested you. 

His hubris, as suffocating as it was, was tempered with true expertise. Passion, even.  You’d never met anyone like him, not even in Baldur's gate. Magic was everything to you; it shielded you and brought your enemies to their knees. It was thrilling to meet someone who could match you. Plus, he had a gentle heart. 

You didn’t plan on saving tiefling refugees, but beating up goblins was fun. During the attack, a tiefling child lost their parents. Neither you or Gale could bring them back to life. Still, he comforted them the best way he could. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He hugged them when they ran into his arms. “These are horrors that no child should have to go through. I…can’t bring them back, but I do have something that I hope can bring you some comfort.”

The tiefling child pulled away, sniffling. “You do?”

Gale conjured up a necklace of illusion magic. He handed it to the child. “This necklace is just for you. I’ll teach you the incantation to trigger the magic. Before doing the incantation, you need to think of a happy memory you have with your parents. Then, you’ll be able to relive that memory so long as you keep the necklace on.”

The child took the necklace and slipped it on. They toyed with the gem at the end, which glowed with a pleasant warmth. They smiled sadly, “Thank you.”

Something stirred in you. You didn’t name the feeling, but it was potent all the same. You felt hot and your heart raced. You’d never say it out loud, but you had a crush on Gale.

Instead of joining the festivities at camp, you turned in early for the night. You grabbed the first book you saw and settled onto your bedroll. Reading usually distracted you, especially when you read about magic. And yet, your mind was occupied by Gale. After failing to get to even the second page, you slammed the book shut. You tucked the book under your arm and ventured out to Gale’s tent. If you couldn’t benefit from the book, maybe he could. 

Gale’s tent was a short walk away from yours. The party was dying down, but Gale usually stayed up studying. When you arrived at his tent, though, there was a conjuration of Mystra in his palm. He gazed at the image longingly, not realizing that you were watching. You stepped closer.

“Paying tribute?”

He flinched and whirled around. Mystra’s image disappeared, and he exhaled. “You startled me, (Y/N).” he breathed. “I suppose you could say I am, in a way. Though I can’t say my soul feels any lighter.”

You gave him a questioning look. He continued. 

“I hope we can put our earlier disagreement behind us, (Y/N).” He said, taking a few steps towards you. Your heartbeat quickened. “It’s just been so long since I’ve collaborated with anyone regarding magic. I understand that we may have different approaches when it comes to wielding it.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “What’s done is done. Why were you just conjuring an image of the goddess?”

“Oh, that. Well..” He trailed off as if he was unsure of what to say. Then, he cleared his throat. “The longer we embark on our journey, the less connected I feel to the Weave. And, it’s everything to me. It always has been..”  He sighed heavily, then looked at you with a sudden air of curiosity. “I know we haven’t seen eye to eye, but from one arcane user to another, would you like to channel the Weave with me? It’s a wonderful experience.”

You put down the book you were carrying, shifting awkwardly. “I’ve never done it. I never feel far from the Weave’s embrace, so I haven’t felt the need to.”

“Lucky you,” Gale chuckled. “Still, my offer stands. I can show you how to do it. What do you say?”

This was usually when you’d rebuff him. Not this time. Your curiosity piqued, and he did look handsome in the candlelight. 

“Show me.”

Gale’s eyes brightened. He smiled. “As you wish. Follow my lead.”

Channeling the Weave was effortless. Gale was a wonderful teacher: patient, eager, and generous with praise. The air was sweet, and you felt safe in the Weave’s embrace. You closed your eyes, and your mind wandered again. To home. To Gale. To the thought of your lips pressed together in a passionate kiss—

The connection flickered. You forgot yourself. Your eyes snapped open and found Gale. He looked back at you with an equally surprised expression.

******

It took a week for you to face Gale again. You were terribly embarrassed. All of that melted away when, surprisingly, he reciprocated your feelings. 

“I must be a powerful wizard indeed,” He was saying quietly to you during another one of your travels. “If I managed to charm the likes of you. I’m flattered, truly. And, might I say, you have incredibly good tastes.”

“Shh. Do you ever stop talking?” You returned in a hushed whisper, holding back a smile. You and Gale were walking behind Karlach and Astarion, and you didn’t want to catch their attention. Gale noticed the hint of your smile and gasped. 

“Is that a smile I see? Oh, I’m afraid you’re done for.” He smirked and leaned into you. His breath tickled your ear, and you shivered. “I haven’t even begun to work my full array of charms on you.”

“What’re you two talking about?” Astarion cut into the private conversation, a curious glint in his eye. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen (Y/N) speak so much.”

Your smile instantly fell. You frowned, “It’s nothing that concerns you, Astarion.”

“Oh, come on.” The spawn pouted. “You’re no fun at all. What’s a bit of gossip among friends?” He looked at the two of you expectantly, but he didn’t get an answer. He huffed. “Ugh, fine. Be that way.”

Once he turned away, Gale whispered to you again. “Let’s continue this conversation in private tonight, hmm? I could prepare a meal.”

“Fine,” you agreed, nodding. “I’ll bring the drinks.”

After dinner, you stayed in Gale’s tent to read together. Many of your companions were either asleep or involved in their own pursuits, so they didn’t notice your empty tent. You were buried under a purple blanket with a book on your lap with him beside you. 

“Comfortable?” Gale asked as he cozied up to you. You nodded and pushed half of the blanket to him, which he happily accepted. “Excellent. Now, tell me, when did you realize you were hopelessly enamored with me?”

You looked up suddenly, and he was grinning. A blush creeped up on your cheeks. You smirked. “I believe I could ask you the same thing.”

“You very well could. But, since I asked first..” Gale’s grin widened. “I’ll admit, it is a long list. There are the impassioned debates we have, my words, my award winning smile…”

“Awards?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Who’s given you these awards?”

“Three people, actually.” Gale feigned offense. “Why, there’s me. Myself, who’s a great fellow…”

“Stop.” You nudged his arm, giggling.  “You can’t give yourself awards. They don’t count.” 

“According to whom?!”

You covered your face, muffling your giggles. “Gods, you’re ridiculous.”

Gale laughed. When you uncovered your face, he was smiling warmly. “I’ve never heard you laugh before. It’s a beautiful sound.”

Your blush deepened. The truth was that you didn’t laugh much, if at all. You usually spurned the company of others, but you felt comfortable in Gale’s presence. You shifted, turning your attention back to your book. “Thank you. Now, are we going to read, or am I to sing your praises all night?”

“Both sound wonderful, though I’d settle for hearing you laugh again.” He slid close to you so that your arms touched. You smiled, keeping your eyes down on your book. 

“I’m sure there will be something I can laugh at you about soon.” You chuckled lightly and turned a page. “All in good time, love.”

“You’re terrible, you know?” Gale gently squeezed your side with his free hand. You fidgeted and jostled your book. A metaphorical lightbulb went off in his head, and you eyed him suspiciously. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“Are you-”

“No.”

Gale chuckled. “I haven't finished my question.” He discarded his book to the side. He leaned into you with a small, knowing smile. “Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, are you ticklish?”

You shook your head. “I’m not.” You pressed your arm against your side, settling for holding your book with one hand. “You just startled me.”

“I see.” Gale hummed, rubbing his beard in thought. You thought that would’ve been the end of it, but after a brief pause, he was smiling again. “I do apologize, but I again disagree with you. The signs point to the opposite, I’m afraid.”

“There aren’t any-” 

He squeezed your side again. This time, you squeaked and squirmed out of his reach. Gale smirked. 

“Right. No signs.” He answered coyly, extending an arm out to reach you. He idly wriggled his fingers and you leaned away even further, unable to hide your grin. “None at all.”

“Gale,” You started warningly, propping yourself up onto your knees. This made your book tumble off of your lap. “I’m warning you. Don’t try it.”

“Surely there’s no harm in a bit of experimentation, is there?” Gale was testing the waters. He observed your body language. If he noticed the slightest bit of discomfort, he’d back off. Your gaze was sharp, but your wobbly grin told him that he hadn’t pushed too far. “You make one claim, I make another. Yet, it’s impossible for both claims to be correct.”

You put your hands out defensively as he inched closer. “D-Don’t come any closer.”

Gale stopped moving. His smirk broadened. “Of course. If that’s what you want, I will humbly oblige.”

Something was off. As a sorcerer, you could detect magic, and he definitely had a trick up his sleeve. It just wasn’t one you were expecting. 

The sneaky wizard conjured a hologram of himself behind you. It had crept up behind you while you backed away from Gale. By the time you noticed it, it was too late. It fluttered its fingers into your sides, and you shrieked. 

“Gahahle-?!” You let out a short laugh and curled into yourself. You shoved away the hands and whirled around to see the hologram. “Youhu bahahstard.”

“You’ve quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” Gale clicked his tongue, watching you and the hologram with amusement. “It’s actually one of the many qualities I like about you. That, your strength, and your obstinance.” 

While he spoke, Gale’s hologram lightly poked at your torso, earning gasps and curses. If it reached a ticklish spot, it was rewarded with a startled giggle. Both Gale and his hologram wore the same smirk. “Are you absolutely sure that you’re not ticklish, my dear?” The wizard spoke over your snickering. “Based on my observations, that theory gets weaker with each passing minute.”

“I’m nohohot!” You bit your lips, muffling any would be giggles. You were losing the battle with the hologram’s hands. Instead, you checked it with your shoulder, trying to bump it hard enough to make it disappear. That tactic not only failed, but gave the hologram the opportunity to pull you in close. Now, with one arm around your waist, it gently pinched and scampered its fingers along your ribs. You exhaled sharply and bit your lip harder. “K-Knohock it off, Gahale-”

Gale held up his hands, feigning innocence. “I’m not doing anything. I haven’t moved, just like you asked.” 

“G-Get rihihid of the holograham!”

“Oh!” He made a big show of realizing what you meant. His eyes flicked to the hologram and he charged up a spell in his hands. Or, it looked like he did. You knew better than that; he did nothing. He chuckled sheepishly. “Apologies, I’m afraid he has a mind of his own. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Youhuhu are deahad-” 

Gale’s hologram teased your upper ribs with his fingertips. Hissing through clenched teeth, you squirmed in its hold, winding your arms tight around your torso. His fingers were trapped now, so he scribbled his fingers in a side to side motion along your ribs. The laughter was begging to be free, and it made itself known the longer you fought it off. But, if you were going down, you were going down swinging. 

As a last ditch effort, you channeled your magic and sent out a small shockwave. It didn’t do any damage, but it did blow things around. Your goal was to break Gale’s concentration on his hologram spell, and it worked. Gale yelled as he stumbled back, and the hologram disappeared.

“Did you just-” Gale looked bewildered. He wasn’t hurt, but his scrolls and books were in a disarray. “Certainly a bit of tickling didn’t warrant an attack on my person!” 

“It absolutely did.” You breathed. You rubbed the ticklish sensations out of your skin. “You attacked first, and I responded accordingly.”

“You did not respond accordingly!” Gale picked up one of the books that fell. He dusted off the cover. “You could’ve put a crease in my Magical Histories book.”

For whatever reason, that amused you. It amused you so much that you busted out laughing. Gale made the quick decision to cast a sound barrier spell around his tent, so that your loud laughter wouldn’t disturb your companion’s sleep. You laughed and laughed, collapsing on the floor, and Gale’s cheeks flushed. 

“What is so funny?” Gale had to resist the urge to laugh along with you; your true laugh was highly contagious. Once you calmed down, you pushed yourself up into a seated position, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. 

“You’re-” You couldn’t get through your sentence without snickering. “Youhu’re such a dork.”

“Wha- I will not stand for an attack on my person and my character.” Gale suddenly teleported to you, wrapping both of his arms around your frame. He scribbled across your sides, ribs, hips- anywhere he could reach. You squealed and, arms flailing, fell back into a fit of giggles. 

Despite your ticklish panic, you still had some fight in you. While he was invested in tickling your ribs, a highly sensitive spot, you took the opportunity to tickle him back. You shot a hand up and buried it in the crook of his neck, tickling with purpose. Thankfully, he was ticklish too. 

He immediately scrunched his neck, giggling hard. “O-Ohohoho nohoho you don’t!” He yelped and abandoned tickling you to wrestle with your hands. You grinned triumphantly. 

“You left me no choice,” You wriggled your hand free from his neck and found his side, squeezing repeatedly. Gale giggled louder and gripped your wrist, but this didn’t deter you. 

A tickle fight was on, and Gale was determined to win. There was a war of flailing arms and hands before the wizard emerged victorious. With a sudden burst of strength that was sure to make him sore in the morning, he pulled you down to the floor with him. 

He set you on his lap, using one arm to pin your own arms to your sides. He didn’t hold on too tightly; you could’ve gotten away if you really wanted. He only held on with just enough strength to keep you from tickling him. Now, with his free hand, he kneaded into your hip bone. You lurched forward, giggling loudly, and he put his leg over yours to keep you put. 

“Nahahahaha!” You squeaked as he jumped to your other hip bone. The floodgates were open now as you squirmed in his hold. “Gahahahahle!”

Now, it was his turn to grin triumphantly. He snaked his fingers up your sides, tweaking them with the lightest touch. He nestled his head in the crook of your neck.  “There we are, dearest. Much better.” He chuckled into your skin, which only made you laugh louder. “And, if you won’t say it, I’m happy to do it for you. You,” He scampered up to your ribs, playing them like a piano. “Are,” A hand burrowed into your underarm, earning him yelps and cackles. “Definitely ticklish.”

You didn’t realize it at the moment, but the longer he tickled you, the more you sank into his arms. Soft, playful moments were a rarity, especially given the journey you were on. You’d never, ever say it out loud, but you were enjoying yourself. As smug as he was, Gale was being very gentle. “What do you say, (Y/N)? Do you think we could at least agree on that score?” 

You hid your face with one hand, letting out a squealing laugh when his hand landed on your stomach. “NOHOHOHO!” You returned, laughing loudly, as you squirmed harder in his lap. He prodded into abdominal muscles and held you a little bit tighter. 

“The signs are all there,” He whispered into your ear, teasing you, while he scribbled and poked into your belly. He let go of your arm so that he could use both hands to tickle. You didn’t realize the shift, so you curled into his arms instead of pushing his hands. “There’s the squirming, the squeals, and the laughter, which is quite enchanting…”

You finally grabbed onto his wrists, but still didn’t really stop him. It wasn’t until he gently kneaded his thumbs into the sides of your belly that you finally relented. “OKAHAHAHAY! I’M TIHIHCKLISH, GAHAHALE!”

He immediately stopped, rubbing his palms over your abdomen. “I’m happy we can finally agree on something.” He chuckled. He moved his hands off to the side. “And, I’ll let your cheeky comment slide. What’s more interesting to me is that you had the chance to move my hands, and yet you didn’t. I’m going to make another claim and suggest that you enjoyed yourself.” 

You laid your head against his chest, breathing deeply. “And…if I did?” You tried to sound defensive, but there wasn’t any venom in your words. Gale smiled, resting his palm against your cheek. 

“Then you’d only be more adorable to me, if that’s even possible.” His thumb rubbed along your skin as he took you in. “Gods, you’re beautiful. And that’s laugh- it’s something of the heavens, truly. I could listen to it all night.”

“But not tonight,” You tapped his nose, chuckling. “I’m exhausted.”

“No matter. I’m sure we’ll have many more nights like these to come. If you’d still like to join me, that is.”

You shifted in his lap so you could face him. You grinned. “I think I could make the time. Shall we seal the deal with a kiss?”

“I would love that.” Gale’s smile widened as he leaned into you, and you met him halfway, pressing your lips into his. Maybe it was because you’re both spellcasters, but the kiss was nothing short of magical.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lea your angel/devil au is constantly living rent free in my mind!!! no joke, it’s one my favorite au’s out there 😭❤️ i keep rereading everything and im in awe at your ability to write such sinful yet beautiful things about steve and eddie!!! 🪄

if your requests are still open, i hope you like this idea!! we’re seeing steve come to readers rescue all the time when eddie’s being a little too mean. but just picture this. reader needing more roughness and she’s begging for eddie. im sure his headass would be so boastful and look at steve while he’s fucking reader and being like, “see stevie, i told you she likes it rough. you’re too nice to her and all she wants is for you to be a little mean,” then he looks at you and smirks, “isn’t that right baby?”

A/N: oh 🥺 you are so sweet! thank you so so much ♡

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist

“Please,” you croaked, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the devil’s movements rocked the entire bed, “more! Fuck me harder!”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie smirked, swiftly changing his pace, slamming his hips ruthlessly against your own, his bulbous tip bumping up against your cervix so rudely that it made you lose your breath completely, “you want it that bad, you want it to hurt?”

“Please!” you gasped, your limbs losing control and flailing around, clawing frantically at his skin for purchase. 

Feeling his ringed fingers enclose around your throat, squeezing your rapid pulse, he grunted, “yeah, you like it when I’m mean, baby?” spitting into your breathless mouth, “you want me to fuck you like I hate you, is that it? Throw you around and use you like a puppet?” 

You tried to reply, but you couldn’t do anything else than cry out as your body shook violently from the euphoric sensation he overflowed your being with. 

“You gonna tell me I was right now or later?” Eddie threw a cocky glance in Steve’s direction, “told you she likes it rough, loves it when we give her bruises, make her sore, anything to remind her of just how real this all is,” he held the eye contact with his companion as laboured grunts accompanied every thunderous thrust of his hips, “plus she’s just a little whore for the pain,” he glanced back down at your dazed features, “aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

We Were Born to Be National Treasures

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 5

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

5.2k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of alcohol, lots of exposition, Roy is kind of a dummy

See if you can spot a little reference to @agentstarkid and her lovely story The Joker & The Queen!

The night before the fundraiser, Roy found himself again at the Crown and Anchor, throwing darts under the watchful eye of Mae and the patrons of the pub. He was hyper aware of his own behavior, noting every little touch and smile exchanged. He pondered how rehearsed her flirtatious actions were, wondering how she acted on real dates with real boyfriends. Did she smirk at them the way she did at Roy when his dart missed the target? Did she touch their arm when she giggled at their lame stories, the way she did after Roy told her all about the stupid things his players had done? Did she playfully steal sips of their beer when hers was empty, leaving little red lipstick stains on the rim? Did she always act this way, or was this all for the benefit of the camera phones snapping pictures in the corner of the pub?

 Maybe Keeley was right, Roy thought as he contemplated the lipstick mark on his pint. Maybe he just needed to get that first kiss done and over with-

“-and Isaac and Colin,” his companion was saying, completely unaware of Roy’s distracted overthinking. “Oh, and Jamie said something about singing that ‘I’m Too Sexy’ song. That should be pretty fun,” she snickered. She tossed another dart, landing just outside the bullseye. “I think he should sing towards the end of the night, once he’s completely plastered. There’s a good chance his shirt might even come off. What d’you think?”

Roy frowned and picked up another dart, twirling it between his fingers. “You talked to Jamie?” he said simply, eyebrows furrowed.

She nodded and picked up his beer, stealing another sip. “At dinner the other night, when I invited the guys to the party. You were right next to me Kent,” she sighed.

Oh. Right. Roy had been at her side; but Keeley had been across from him, so he barely heard a word of the guys’ excitement at being invited to the fundraiser.

Instead of admitting that he hadn’t paid attention, Roy simply nodded and prepared to throw his dart. “Right,” he mumbled; his dart landed embarrassingly far from the center. “Well, if I’m your date to this thing, I guess it’d be nice to know what you’re raising funds for. What’s your nonprofit do?”

She kept her eyes coolly on the dartboard as she blew some hair out of her face, preparing to take her turn. “So, I told you my parents are from Mexico, right?” Roy’s grunt let her know he remembered. “Well, my mom was a little girl when her family came, and my dad was a teenager by himself. They both worked so hard to learn English, and they wanted us to have the benefits of both languages.” She smiled- a large, glowing smile- and threw her dart, hitting the target. “So, we read a lot. Played Scrabble and other word games. Watched movies in both languages. But my favorite thing they did was fill our house with music. In both languages.”

“Hence your career,” Roy teased, collecting the darts.

“Exactly,” she chuckled as she accepted a dart from him. “They just really wanted us to have a deep appreciation for both English and Spanish. That’s what inspired the Cicada Foundation. We support literacy programs, particularly for immigrants, we donate books to schools and libraries in need, we raise awareness about literacy challenges. I’m always looking for new things to contribute to.” She again stole a sip of Roy’s beer, too engrossed in gushing to notice the way he was watching her. “Like I really want to look into starting a scholarship program and grants for classrooms.” She stopped, finally looking at Roy. “So… that’s what we do.”

Roy nodded, processing what he’d just heard. “And why the fuck did you name it the Cicada Foundation?” Shit, he hoped that didn’t come off as rude as it sounded; he really needed to work on his tone.

Her lingering grin assured him he was fine. “Well, one of the singers they used to play a lot of was Linda Ronstadt,” she explained slowly, waving as Mae brought them another round. “She was… something. She sang country, rock, anything. And she sang in Spanish, too. She had this great album of all mariachi music that we used to play all the time. And my dad’s favorite was called ‘La Cigarra’, which means ‘The Cicada’.” She sipped her pint, eyes never leaving Roy’s. “She’s kind of my hero.” Suddenly, she cleared her throat, focusing back on the dartboard. “Sorry. That’s probably more than you wanted to hear.

Roy shook his head. “No, no,” he quickly assured her. “It’s actually fucking interesting, trust me.” He paused, the wheels in his mind turning. “My ticket. For this thing tomorrow. How much is it?”

Now it was her turn to shake her head. “You’re my guest,” she murmured. “You don’t need to pay shit.”

“But it’s for your charity.”

The chuckle she let out was awkward, something he hadn’t seen on her yet. “My boyfriends don’t pay for their ticket.” After a moment, she quickly added. “Like I said, you’re my guest. You’re good.”

Roy’s frown hardened. “Fine. Just let me know where to send my check, then. You can at least let me make a fucking donation.” Something in her face trembled, earning a sigh from Roy. “What’d I do wrong now?”

“Nothing.” She let out a small laugh and picked up a new dart. “I just… I don’t think any of my real boyfriends ever made a donation.” She looked up at Roy with the tiniest of smiles, one tinted by a hint of sadness. “But thank you, Kent. That’s very nice of you.”

“Yeah,” Roy mumbled, trying to focus his attention back on their dart game. “Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got shit taste in men by the way?”

Her laugh was wry and full; Roy kind of liked it. “Only all my Instagram followers.”

“Yeah, well.” Roy smirked at her, fully aware of the phones pointed in their direction. “Guess I’ll have to prove them wrong.”

~

I glanced across the backseat at Roy. As if they expected us to do otherwise, both Keeley and Lanie had explicitly instructed us to arrive together; to be fair to them, I wouldn’t put it past us to try taking separate cars. Instead, we sat next to each other in the back of the luxury car.

As if he could feel my gaze, his eyes met mine, looking just as tense as I felt. “Oi,” he grunted quietly. “Can I ask something?”

“Sure.”

I must have imagined his eyes flickering to my mouth for a fraction of a second. “This being our… debut-” He rolled his eyes at the word Keeley and Lanie kept using. “-d’you think we’ve got to… you fucking know.”

This time, there was no doubt where his eyes landed.

“Oh.”

Shit, shit, shit. Of all the things I’d thought about with this fake relationship, how had I not planned on kissing Roy Kent? Really kissing him? Not that casual, flirty, on-the-cheek thing I’d been doing, but a real lip lock, the kind a woman silly with love would readily give a man like him, with his leather jacket and brown eyes. And for whatever ridiculous reason, my face was burning at the idea.

“Guess we’ll have to,” I mumbled, eying the driver; even with the partition up, I was wary of being overheard.

Roy nodded, clearing his throat gruffly. “D’you think… our first time should be in… public?” His eyes met mine in a flash. “Or… not?��

It was clear what he was asking, just as it was clear that he wasn’t asking out of any sort of desire or attraction. He was asking out of professionalism, the same professionalism that I clung to just as much. It was that professionalism that kept me from rolling my eyes at how incredibly lame we both sounded, whispering about kissing in the back of a car, as though we were teenagers being driven to a dance by a parent.

“Not’s probably better,” I murmured, fighting the urge to stare at his expletive-loving mouth. “Just in case it’s… weird.”

“Yeah.” Roy leaned towards me, brown eyes not bothering to stay trained on mine. “It’ll probably be fucking weird.”

I closed my eyes, preparing myself for what I knew would be the first of many awkward moments tonight-

The car jerked to a stop; we’d arrived at the venue, and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or annoyed to be interrupted.

Roy definitely looked annoyed as he leaned back, shifting his gaze away from me. “Well,” he coughed, rolling his eyes. “Let’s fucking go, then.” With one of those heaving sighs, he opened his door and stepped out; immediately I could hear shouts and cheers. There was a look of unease in his eyes, underneath all that harshness, as he reached back into the car, extending his hand to me. “Ready?”

Rather than answer with words, I simply took his hand and allowed him to help me out of the car, plastering on my best smile as I was almost immediately blinded by the flashing lights of cameras. Roy gave a small nod, offering to let me take the lead. Keeley had warned me; apparently Roy hated this kind of thing. Part of the reason she wanted him to ‘date’ me, she had explained, was to improve his abilities in front of the cameras.

I could practically feel his awkwardness radiating off of him as we paused in front of the crowd of photographers. When I glanced up at him, I saw him staring straight ahead with the stoniest expression I’d seen yet. So much for looking like a man in love.

“Oi, Kent,” I hissed. He glanced down at me, thick eyebrow raised, as though his frown could hide the unease in his eyes. “Focus on me,” I whispered.

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Focus on me,” I repeated, offering a small smile. “You’re supposed to be in love with me, remember? You can look at me instead of them. Everyone will just think you’re smitten as hell.” I let go of his hand in favor of wrapping my arm around his waist. “Sound good?”

His body almost immediately softened against mine as his own hand found my lower back. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan.”

As soon as we stepped in front of the cameras, we were mobbed with shouts of our names and a bombardment of questions. Everything from how we met, to how long we’d been together, to whether I’d written anything about Roy yet. I simply gave my brightest smile, the one I’d worked years on perfecting, and posed with Roy at my side. When I glanced up, sure enough, Roy was gazing down at me, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.

“You’re a fucking natural at this shit,” he mumbled in my ear. “How the hell d’you do it?”

I chuckled, pretending he’d said something funny; these photos would actually be kind of cute, I realized. “You learn to stop caring,” I answered, hoping my expression was affectionate enough. “They’re going to see what they want to see, so you might as well let go and just have fun.”

Roy’s smile grew as we continued down the carpet. “And here I thought you had trained for years to do this kind of thing.”

“Trust me,” I answered, offering a wave to the cameras. “I’ve been doing this since I was eighteen. I have trained for years for this.”

~

Roy frowned as he stood at the edge of the carpet, watching her giggle with reporters and smile for photographers. After posing for a few photos together, she released him to go wait at the end of the carpet so she could have some solo time to gush about her foundation and the event. Well, she’d actually encouraged him to head on inside and told him not to worry about waiting for her, but he couldn’t help but watch her. Her ease with the cameras in her face, her amiability in response to questions that were more about her private life than her fundraising efforts, even the way she shot smiles in his direction, knowing that every camera was catching the supposedly natural way she beamed at him.

She was good at this, this game. Maybe she really was cleverer than Roy gave her credit for.

“You waited for me,” she teased once she reached him, eyebrows raised. “Would’ve thought you’d already be at the bar with a drink in your hand.”

“Gotta be the doting boyfriend, right?” he replied, wrapping his arm casually around her shoulder, the way he used to do when walking around Nelson Road with Keeley. “Doing the job.”

She nodded as they entered the venue. “Doing the job,” she repeated.

The venue- a club- was exactly the kind of thing Roy hated: dark, crowded, loud. Instinctively, he tightened his grasp on her shoulder, as if she’d keep him anchored. If she minded, she didn’t show it; instead, she nudged him with her hip and nodded towards the bar.

“Let’s get you a drink,” she called over the music.

Roy couldn’t help watching the way she maneuvered around the crowd; despite having an obvious target in mind, she still managed to greet people, flashing smiles that looked genuine, as if she was truly happy to see people who’d paid a ridiculous amount of money for the opportunity to sing off-key with one of the most popular singers in the world. Fucking hell, she was sure of herself- or at least knew how to act like she was. Maybe he really could learn a thing or two from this woman.

They had barely approached the bar when the bartender was asking for their order; of course she never had to wait for a bartender, Roy thought to himself. She quickly called out drink orders: Roy’s usual beer, and something fruity for herself. Before Roy could thank her for remembering his beer, she lit up at someone over his shoulder.

“Hey you guys!” she squealed.

A gorgeous couple breezed past Roy to hug her; Roy stared at them, wondering where he knew their faces from. After being doted on by the couple, she turned to smile at Roy, that same smile she always had for him when other people were around.

“Roy, these are my dear friends Becky and Ricky.” She wrapped her arm around Roy’s middle, giving a playful squeeze. “This is Roy,” she giggled.

Becky and Ricky. Oh. Okay, Roy knew them now. She was an actress, from Paraguay if he remembered correctly, and he was a professional racer. They were regularly on the cover of tabloids, always for how ‘relatable’ they were and never for drama. And, apparently, for being best friends with her.

“Nice to meet you guys,” Roy managed, shaking Ricky’s hand.

“Great to finally meet you,” Becky giggled. “You and our girl have made quite a splash, you know that?” She offered a friendly wink. “It looks like you make her happy so far, so we’ll forgive her for not telling us about you right away.”

A now-familiar chuckle reached Roy’s ears. “Yeah, yeah,” his ‘girlfriend’ said. “Like you told me about Rick right away.” She beamed up at Roy, the picture of a woman in love. “I think I see some Greyhounds. Should we go say hi before I have to go onstage?”

Roy grumbled something agreeable before waving to the power couple, who promised to chat more later. “They seem nice,” he muttered, taking her hand as she led him across the club.

“They’re the absolute best,” she assured him. “Becky was honestly kind of pissed that I didn’t tell her about you sooner. I usually tell her about guys right away but… you know.”

“Yeah.” Roy cleared his throat as Jamie waved excitedly at them. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

After she greeted the Greyhounds with hugs and kisses on cheeks, she turned to Roy, touching his hand gently. “I have to head onstage,” she explained in his ear, her breath warm and tickling. “But enjoy yourself, alright, Kent? I’ll check in with you in a bit.” She kissed his cheek, lingering for a moment before walking away. It seemed so natural when she did it; damn, he’d have to ask her for advice on this whole acting thing, because she was pretty fucking good.

He stood beside Jamie- who was chattering animatedly in the ear of her assistant, April- and watched as she took the stage. She gushed over the guests, thanking them for coming and supporting the Cicada Foundation, explaining how special it was to her. She managed to find Roy’s eyes in the crowd and blew him a kiss, prompting shouts and whistles from his team; he managed to make himself smile back, his ears burning at the attention.

“Alright,” she announced to the crowd. “Let’s get this party started!” With a nod to the DJ, an upbeat tune filled the club.

“‘Material Girl’, that’s a fun one!” Keeley had appeared at Roy’s side, beaming up at the manager. “She looks great up there, doesn’t she?”

Roy gazed down at Keeley, the tension in his shoulders disappearing at once. “Yeah, great.” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

Keeley nodded, her eyes back on the singer. “She invited me. She’s real sweet, yeah? Plus, it probably looks good on her, being friendly with your ex. Especially with the stuff going down with her last boyfriend.” She glanced back at Roy. “She’s a smart one, your girlfriend.”

“Please don’t call her that,” Roy mumbled, clutching his beer and forcing himself to look up at the stage. “It’s fucking weird.”

All Keeley did was giggle and nudge Roy. “Yeah, yeah. Just watch your girlfriend, Kent.”

And so Roy did. He watched her move her hips and smile into the microphone and interact with the crowd. He watched her jump around, reminding him of the way Phoebe danced around… to, well, her music. She looked happy, free. It was almost enough to have him looking forward to watching her on her anticipated tour.

Almost.

~

It was utterly bizarre, hanging out with Roy like this. Yes, we’d had a few “dates”, mostly in parks or at the Crown and Anchor. Sure, we sat next to each other when grabbing a bite with the Greyhounds after a match. And yeah, we’d had exactly one sleepover that somehow didn’t involve any arguments.

But this was different. We were officially “boyfriend-girlfriend”, and we were definitely acting like it. He kept a firm grip on me no matter where in the club we went, and any time he spoke to me, it was a whisper in my ear, even if all he was doing was mumbling a question about where the restrooms were. Of course, I made sure to do my part, giggling over him and kissing his scruff adoringly.

Honestly, it was kind of sickening how sweet we were. Was this really what I looked like when I was genuinely in love with a guy? If so, I owed every single one of my friends an apology for subjecting them to such nauseating displays.

“Alright, my turn’s coming up,” Roy announced in the middle of a conversation with Jamie and April, who’d spent nearly the whole night by each other’s side. He handed me his beer and planted a kiss to the top of my head. “Don’t you fucking dare record this,” he growled.

“Don’t need to,” I answered, taking a swig of his drink. “Livestream, remember?”

Roy rolled his eyes and disappeared, leaving me with a smirking April.

“You two seem to be having fun,” she said, her voice full of teasing. “You look very natural together.”

My gaze shifted to Jamie for a brief moment before I narrowed my eyes at her. “Of course we do,” I hissed pointedly. “We’ve been seeing each other for nearly a month now. I would think we’d be comfortable together.”

Suddenly interested in the conversation, Jamie leaned forward. “You make a handsome couple,” he called over his other coach, Beard, finishing up a rendition of a David Bowie song. “Swear, I don’t remember the last time I saw Grandad look at someone the way he looks at you. And you should’ve heard him when he thought I was interested in ya, he went full caveman on me.”

Before I could ask Jamie what the hell he was talking about, the rest of the Greyhounds erupted in cheers and wolf-whistles; Roy had taken the stage.

“What song is he doing?” April asked, a genuine question.

I shook my head, eyes trained on Roy, who looked almost… bashful. “He didn’t tell me.” Just as I was about to suggest what he might be singing, a very familiar, twangy, cutesy tune hit my ears and painted my face a deep red. “He’s not doing this,” I gasped.

His blush was visible even from the stage as he stared at the words on screen. “I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car…”

I couldn’t help but cover my face with my hands. It was too adorable, my “boyfriend” singing my song. In all the years I’d even doing this event, only a couple of boyfriends had ever gone onstage; none of them had even considered doing one of my songs. It was too bad Roy was doing this all for show; this was the kind of gesture a girl could fall in love with.

His voice was its usual growling, gruff self, contrasting adorably with the juvenile words of my very first radio hit. What was most unbelievable, though, was the smile on Roy’s bearded face. He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully as he sang, not at all bothered by how young and girlish the lyrics were. It was a bit surprising; Roy Kent struck me as the kind of guy who cared about looking tough and masculine all the time, the kind of guy who wouldn’t be caught dead singing what a Buzzfeed writer once called “brainless girlie pop”. But there he was, grinning and singing the song I’d written when I was sixteen.

Just as I was letting myself relax and enjoy his weirdly sweet performance, my heart dropped to my stomach. Oh, shit. I grabbed April’s arm and pulled her close, hoping that I looked like a giggly, gossipy girl rather than the panicked woman I suddenly became.

“I have to kiss him.”

April’s eyes widened as she shifted her gaze between me and Roy. “You do?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I mean, he’s singing my fucking song,” I hissed. “If we were actually dating, there’d be no question.” I fought back a grimace and took a deep breath. “Right?”

I didn’t need to ask April; I knew it was true. Just like I knew this moment was already trending on Twitter, and that my reaction to it would be all over TikTok, ready to be analyzed by teenage girls and adults with too much time on their hands. If I didn’t have the right reaction, this whole operation would be over right as it really began. And I’d be the psycho who finagled a sports legend into a fake relationship.

Nope. No way I could let that happen.

“I’ve heard every album, listened to the radio, waited for something to come along that was as good as our song.”

Roy locked eyes with me as I made my way towards the stage, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d have sworn his smile widened. In turn, I plastered on my favorite smile, the flattered one that was just a bit shy, the one I usually reserved for high praise or invasive questions about my love life. The kind I would definitely wear if a guy did this and meant it.

All I could do as he reached the last chorus was keep smiling and hope that he wouldn’t be taken aback by the kiss. He was willing in the car; surely, he knew I’d have to kiss him now. He was Roy Kent, after all. He’d been in high-profile relationships and engaged in public displays of affection. There was no way he thought he could get out of this night unkissed.

“… I grabbed a pen and an old napkin and I wrote down our song.”

The club erupted into cheers, especially the Greyhounds, as Roy took a stiff little bow and replaced the microphone. As expected, he made a beeline for me, his smile suddenly replaced with bashfulness. I didn’t give him a chance to say or do anything; instead, I grabbed his face and brought his lips straight to mine.

~

It took Roy a fraction of a second to comprehend the feeling of her lips against his. They were soft. Warm. Inviting. Exactly how Roy thought they’d be on those rare occasions where he’d allowed himself to wonder about actually kissing her. Instinctively, he grabbed her hips and tugged her flush against his chest, letting her take the lead on the kiss.

Fuck, if it wasn’t a good one.

It was just chaste enough for a public setting, but deep and slow enough to show comfort and familiarity with each other. And even though she kept her tongue to herself, he could definitely taste her drink. Something cool and refreshing, just like her.

He probably would’ve gone on kissing her if she didn’t pull back, flashing him that megawatt smile of hers. She tugged him close, as if hugging him tight, and murmured in his ear, “Damn, Kent. You’re really trying to trend online, huh?”

Roy nodded, clearing his throat and coming back down to earth. “Good song choice?” he asked, hoping Phoebe’s suggestion had the intended effect.

She nodded, her smile almost lovely enough to look real. “Great song choice.” She pulled him into a hug- a warm, friendly one this time- before gazing up at him. “Should we grab a drink?”

“Yeah.” He reached down and grabbed her hand, amazed by how automatically he’d been doing that all night. “Let’s grab a fucking drink.”

They were glued to each other’s sides, sipping drinks and holding hands, smiling at each other like moony-eyed teenagers. Roy was almost proud of himself for his ability to pretend to be head-over-heels for this woman who, up until recently, he found annoying. Maybe it was their budding friendship, he reasoned as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so they could sway to the music together. That was it. He considered her almost a friend now; surely that was making pretending to be attracted to her a bit easier.

As they stood near her friends Becky and Ricky and listened to Jamie drunkenly sing an Olivia Rodrigo song, April scurried up and whispered in her ear. With a nod, she turned to Roy and handed him her drink.

“Showtime,” she announced, planting a quick kiss to his lips. A quick, casual, natural kiss. Fuck, how many kisses would it take for him to get used to it?

He was still pondering that as he watched her ascend the stage, guitar in hand. The whole room cheered and hollered for her, applause she accepted with gracious smiles and kisses blown into the crowd. She approached the microphone; her deep exhale could be heard over all the speakers.

“This is my favorite part of the evening,” she mused into the mic. “Where I get to share with you all. This song has been a long time coming- I started working on it when I was twenty-two years old, and over the years I’ve gone back to it and played with it, but I’ve always been too scared to share it. But I had a couple conversations recently-” Roy swore her eyes found his. “-that made me realize that maybe some other people feel this same way. That maybe some of you need this song too.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

They tell you while you’re young

“Girls go out and have your fun”

Then they hunt and slay the ones who actually do it

Roy’s chest was tight as he listened to her, so soft and vulnerable. Her voice sounded strong and sure, contrasting beautifully with the insecurity of her lyrics. He only tore his gaze away for a moment to take in the faces of the people around him; their faces were filled with wistfulness and sadness, maybe a little pity, and some held looks of self-reflection. Roy wondered if his face looked the same; it probably did, he decided.

And will you still want me

Will you still want me

Will you still want me

When I'm nothing new?

Roy was the first person to clap his hands together, but he was immediately joined by every other person in the room. Applause quickly became cheers and a standing ovation; onstage, she beamed and wiped her eyes.

“Thank you,” she managed to hum into the microphone. “That was Nothing New, and it is on sale and streaming now. All proceeds go to the Cicada Foundation.” She gave a small, breathless laugh. “Thank you to everyone who tuned in to watch our karaoke show. You have no idea how much your support means to me and everyone at Cicada.” She gave a small wave. “Thank you, and good night!”

She practically skipped offstage, handed her guitar to a waiting April, and made her way over to Roy. Now it was his turn to grab her and pull her into a hug; deciding to really put on a show, he lifted her off her feet and swung her in a small circle.

“That was fucking brilliant,” he huffed, setting her down but keeping his arms wrapped around her. “That song is something fucking special, you know that? I’m fucking proud of you.”

She beamed up at him, pleasant surprise playing in her eyes. “Thanks, Kent.”

Knowing that countless eyes were on them, Roy dipped down and pressed his lips to hers carefully, maybe even a little timidly. The way her fingers brushed gently through his hair assured him he was fine, so he deepened the kiss, pulling her close. He was kind of amazed at how quickly they had become accustomed to kissing each other, to letting their lips glide past each other softly. It was the way the public expected a superstar and football legend to kiss, he decided. The way two people in love should kiss.

The way he and Keeley used to kiss.

He shoved those thoughts aside for the rest of the night while the karaoke party transformed into a regular party. He danced with her, closer than he had the first night, and pressed soft kisses to her forehead between songs. Be sweet with her, Keeley had suggested to him as they chatted the day before. All romantic and tender. I know you know how to be that way.

And so he was, for the rest of the night. And she accepted all his affection with smiles and kisses of her own. They were convincing enough to trick every single person at the party; and if Roy didn’t know any better, they would have tricked him too.

~

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten@ladygrey03@book-of-roses@thatonedogwithablog@misshall14@wibblywobblyvampywolfystuff@akornsworld@itswhateveripromise@purecinnamonextract@oceanncurrent@dearvoidgoodnight@hopefulromances@respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog@hotleaf-juice@emmy2811@captainorbust-blog@preciousbabypeter@shion-ah@royalestrellas@eugene-emt-roe@littleesilvia@teenwolf01@sisinever@yagotgames@queen-of-the-downtown-scene@emmaallisonann@mrdsturd@confessionsofatotaldramaslut @charkachow @mrdsturd

[weebsinstash]

I have some more ideas, observations, and thoughts to drop before Hazbin is officially here tomorrow!

-Vox's blue fingertips are sharp metal claws and they make audible clinking noises when he touches certain things with them. It makes me curious about the composition of his body but... nice detail

-oh so you're telling me Vox can enter security cameras and warp around and also teleport short distances like he's Tracer, ok, ok, he definitely is primo stalker material, you could literally have this man warp to your location if he really really wanted to find you

-seeing Vox handle Valentino and know how to calm him down (which was kinda sexy ngl) gives me big BIG "Vox would want to keep you for himself but if you ever run away or threaten to leave him he'll threaten to bring Val into the mix to intimidate you into obedience" vibes. You're halfway down the block from like escaping out a window and suddenly your phone turns itself on and you hear Vox say "Valentino is still asleep. If i dont see you don't turn around in 5 seconds I'm gonna wake him up and he's going to be REAL hungover while I tell him you left" and you do a u-turn on the sidewalk right then and there because, Vox might take away privileges and confine you, but Val is the one who's more likely to get physically violent or at the very least yell and scream at you

-ughhhh I just really like the idea of Reader actually getting to be like his platonic friend or secret crush and you're running around as like either his own PA or even his co-host and, you're just a positive influence in his life, he likes you, spending time with you, like you guys hang out outside of work, and eventually having you hang around so much catches Val's eye. He sees Vox talk casually to you and suddenly is overwhelmed with curiosity on who tf you are and is maybe a little jealous his man seems more than comfortable around you

honestly just platonic/genuinely cares for you yandere Vox who hides you away from Valentino when our favorite moth starts being a creep. You tell Vox ONE TIME that Val cracked a joke about you throwing neck for him when your boss left the room and Vox is sure never to leave you alone with Val ever again

-I just see like in some noncon poly scenario where you get passed between them like a blunt that there would still be hard lines Vox hopefullyyy wouldn't let Val cross? Like you start hysterically crying one day, "do YOU think I'm ugly Vox?!" "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Val wants me to have cosmetic surgery! He gave me a list of all the work he wants to have done!" and you hand him like a literal actual list in very familiar pink handwriting and here's Vox, forcing a smile, "hm! Gonna be right back!" and he leaves the room and like in 10 seconds flat you hear them roaring at each other from the other side of the house and Vox zooms back, "hey, great news! You aren't having surgery" and it's never brought up again

-also as an end note. Reader who winds up having the same body type as one of Velvet's models and she snags you from Vox or Valentino one day to have you try on something and you become her like. Her new favorite little pincushion she likes to try new ideas on. You're just minding your own business and she's barging into the room with sudden inspiration and she's, doing her little finger waggle and changing your clothes without your consent, potentially making you half naked or explicitly dressed in front of your male companions or anyone else around

I'm just definitely looking to watching the show and seeing more of everyone in full ^^

[assassyart]

What are your favorite outfits for Ratchet from the games?

Good question!

As far as the armors go, I usually never actually use them in the majority of the games I play (unless they're forced onto me, like Deadlocked's or 2016's). But I do have my favorites.

Holoflux

Shocking probably no one, Holoflux is the best. People often say it's their favorite, and that's for good reason— it looks incredibly good on Ratchet. I definitely don't enjoy drawing this armor that much, but I still will do it from time to time because I like it that much, and Ratchet gets pretty privilege.

It's also cool that this armor matches Azimuth pretty well, and I like that it has the "powered down" version in cutscenes. It makes the finale hit that much harder. This is the only armor where I know it's my favorite. The others are in no particular order.

Quest

Quest for Booty's armor was always rather charming to me, but it got even better once I recognized it had the Apogee insignia on the belt. I am a Talwyn and Ratchet stan at heart, so this pulled this armor above some others just because of that detail. But putting that aside, it also really fits the game it's in and makes Ratchet look like an explorer. He matches Talwyn quite nicely, too, which fits since she's his companion in this game.

Rebel

Oh my god this armor stole my HEART for so long. I am begging Insomniac to give us more casual fits in the next entry because this armor spoiled me so much. I love the graffiti Clank on the left hand, I love the little jacket, I love how the full gear doesn't cover his face... it's just adorable. Such a good fit that suits Ratchet so much and it's definitely my favorite new armor in Rift Apart.

Infernox

As far as armors that cover Ratchet's face go, Infernox was always one of my favorites as a kid. Something about its color palette and overall "flame" vibe just screamed early-Ratchet to me. I really like this one, and I definitely prefer it over the more popular Carbonox armor. Then again, I'm also a sucker for Up Your Arsenal. :P

2002

Not an armor but an absolute classic look. Of all the ones here, it's my favorite to draw since it lets me draw more of Ratchet's fur. It broke my heart to know that IG really wanted to put it in to Rift Apart, but was unable to find a way. I hope they try to do it for the next game, but I'll understand even if they can't. It's just one of the best looks for Ratchet. So iconic.

Marauder

Listen. This armor is really cool looking, and I like it, and I especially like that Deadlocked lets me take off the helmet too... but boy, this bitch is painful to draw. Simplifying it almost feels heinous to do, since it's just so cool looking but GAH!!!! If you ever wonder why I never update the Deadlocked Together AU, it's because of this!!! This painful armor!!!!!!

That aside, this armor fits the tone of the game so well. It's edgy, it's brooding, it's dark. I love it. The only thing I don't like is the fact they hide his tail :(

Tuxedo

Despite always playing Going Commando and Up Your Arsenal exclusively without armor when I play, you would never be able to tell because I love wearing the tuxedo Ratchet skins. Somethin about formal Ratchet makes me have heart eyes. Very kissable.

Robot Pirate

While I obviously prefer rebel, this was one of the only other armors in Rift Apart that I found myself using for Ratchet. The scarf really looks good on him, and I'm very fond of the chest plate. If it weren't for Quest armor's inclusion, I would always wear this armor when going to Ardolis.

Comics

Last but not least (because tumblr says I should stop adding images)... the comic outfits. Once again, the casual Ratchet outfits are always going to score higher for me. I loveeeee seeing my boy look more casual. And while the left image looks a lot like his normal outfit, I prefer it more for keeping it loose. That, and something about that blue chest piece never sat right with me. In a perfect world, I think it would have stayed green to keep his earthy tones in tact even after Tools of Destruction.

And the overalls are just. Mwah. Chef's kiss. What a dork. He's so cute. I love him.

Thanks for the ask!

[baldurs-writers-3]

Time Skips & Future Fics: A Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic Rec list

This week, we have Time Skips & Future Fics!  Check under the cut for a whopping nineteen fics that show all our favorite companions and what they’re doing years after the Absolute Crisis. And as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

One Last Crooked Night by Scaryanne (34342, Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Gale/Tav, Astarion/Tav

Tav is engaged to marry Gale. Astarion is in love with Tav. Tav is in love with... Astarion. UH-OH

Reccer says: I'm a sucker for reading about idiots in love who could solve so many problems with some simple communication but instead choose to do anything but that. Also it is a nice exploration of what somebody "Should do" verses what they WANT to do.

A Gift, A Curse by El_emit (195161, Explicit) Warnings: Graphic violence, non-con/rape, mind control Pairings: Astarion/Tav

A story in which we discover just how damned an ascended vampire can be, and just how far you will go to save the elf you loved.

Reccer says: A post canon "what happened after we let him ascend" fic. The author does a phenomenal job of world building, tugging on your emotions, making you feel shocked and afraid and excited for what's coming next all at once. Most chapters have left me on the edge of my chair waiting for more of the story to unfold. (Still ongoing!)

Coming Home by MoisopolonOikia (roughlytwentytwofrogs) (15962, Mature) Warnings: PTSD/Anxiety, descriptions of panic attacks and hypervigilance, amputated MC Pairings: Shadowheart/Lae'zel

Lae'zel comes back to Faerûn after the war on Vlaakith is won, a decade after the illithid invasion. She meets Halsin at the grove and travels with him towards Last Light Inn to find her lover Shadowheart and all her old friends there, but she has to deal with the toll the years of fighting have taken on her body and mind on the way.

Reccer says: Very sweet and emotional slowburn with a focus on exploring a post-Vlaakith Lae'zel that came back changed after 10 years of warring. Made me cry more than once (it's a good thing i promise)

The stars in between. by ElleKhen (17795, Explicit) Warnings: Pairings: Astarion/Tav

Years after the events of the game, Withers invites Church, Astarion, and their former companions back for yet another party — a cozy, festive celebration of Simril! Thrilled at the prospect of seeing his friends together again, Church takes the opportunity to indulge in a nostalgic tradition of his old village. But once Astarion realizes that this tradition involves giving gifts, he desperately tries to come up with a last-minute gift worthy enough for his partner with help from their friends and a certain (former) god of death.

Reccer says: I love how cozy and lighthearted and fun it is

Exile (Or: How You Learned to Stay) by Astarionfreak (51877, Explicit) Warnings: Non-con, mind control, graphic violence Pairings: Astarion/The Dark Urge, Shadowheart/The Dark Urge

When you have nothing, and the only one who offers you anything is the vampire you've spurned, what else can you say to him but yes?

Reccer says: A post canon story that explores the cost of seven thousand souls and how far Astarion will go to keep what he wants. This fic is exceptional. It perfectly captures every element of a gothic horror, it weaves together foreshadowing and layers to the story that you don't realize until you're reading the reveal. I have cried and laughed and fell in love with the heroine; it has made me loath a character I love. This isn't a feel good story, and if you're looking for a dark way to take things, this is where you should go.

I'm Feeling For Her What She's Feeling For Me by Zetal (Rodinia) (757, General) Warnings: None Pairings: Karlach/Tav

A cute short fluff fic that takes place two years after the end of the game.

Reccer says: It's short and sweet and I just want to give Karlach a giant hug 💕

turn the lights back on by weatheredlaw (16 104, Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Gale/Shadowheart

four years after they parted in baldur's gate, shadowheart arrives in waterdeep with a wish scroll in hand and asks gale for his help casting it. it winds up being more than either of them expects.

Reccer says: There's such a cozy feel to this! All the interactions between all the different characters, the excellent characterization and the musings they have. It's a very interesting little introspection.

As we were by LycheeShark (9363, Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Durge

Former lovers Astarion and Minx end up back in their old bodies--back when he was Cazador's spawn, not the vampire ascendant, and back when she was still trapped in Bhaal's clutches with all the urges that entail. Together, they must figure out a way back to the future they came from.

Reccer says: It's so engaging!! This fic just hooks you straight off the bat. Great character voices, especially for Gortash and Sceleritas, fantastic premise and things are always happening!

Appetites by SpaceMonkeySalsa (72213, Explicit) Warnings: Suicide, depression, smut Pairings: Astarion/OFC

It's been five years since the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable. Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

Reccer says: I'm not normally into Ascended Astarion but I love this fic. It's very well written, and shows that Astarion has a bit of remorse about his actions. He has a complicated relationship with the primary character, Isolde; but it's not the only conflict brewing in the story. Features cameos from several other evil-ending!members of the rest of Team Tadpole as well.

she will come back by sevensistersofsussex (14297, Explicit) Warnings: angst with a happy ending, smut Pairings: Wyll/Tav

A decade after a rejected proposal, tiefling Tav sees Wyll once again. Old feelings come back.

Reccer says: I like the emotion and longing between the two characters.

Harper Files: A - Team by Tynithia (17552, Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Emperor/Tav, Tav & OCs

Four years after the Netherbrain, Ellandra is now a Harper, under Jaheira's cell. She and her Harper Squad are tasked to find the source of some magical occurrences around Baldur's Gate

Reccer says: Fun action/adventure comedy with original characters along with cameos and a plot!

Midwinter in Waterdeep by woodsnweaves (4229, Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Gale/Tav

After the events of the game, the main character of this fic realizes she's not one for a routine, scheduled life in Waterdeep. She and Gale fell in love quickly and didn't realize how difficult it would be to adjust to a new life together.

Reccer says: This is easily my favorite Gale fic I've read. It's such a great blend of angst and happiness. The way the author conveys their emotions is absolutely tear-jerking and I LOVE IT. I've read this multiple times and still adore it.

Weeping Dawn by Hadesgirl015 (1483, Teen) Warnings: Major character death Pairings: Tav/Karlach, Tav&Wyll

A shortly after the end of the game fic, exploring the deep grief felt when the love of your life is gone.

Reccer says: The grief in this is so well written and explored, and it's such beautiful work for how short and sweet it is. I cried while reading this.

Closing the Fist by aqeldroma (78366, Explicit) Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Pairings: Gortash/The Dark Urge

A month past her victory over the netherbrain at Gortash's side, the Dark Urge, newly devoted to Bane, returns to Baldur's Gate with an urgent mission. But complications are afoot, and tyranny is never quite straightforward.

Reccer says: 75k+ words of post-canon evil intrigue; the Netherbrain as an actual character; the Zhentarim featuring in a big way.

What you made me by Denesmera (11452, Mature) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Tav, Halsin/Tav

It's been almost 6 months since they defeated the Elderbrain. Everybody seems to have found a purpose in life, expect Maeva.

Reccer says: Denesmera crafts a beautiful tale with elegant prose. I love the dynamics of her struggle with her purpose.

the cure for the world is saltwater by Raayide (16871, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: astarion/karlach

Can Astarion really have a 'happily ever after' waiting for him considering the past 200 years?

Reccer says: Heart-wrenching and heartwarming all at once

Servitude by krapka (10 137, Explicit) Warnings: Dubious Consent, Stockholm Syndrome, Power Imbalance, Master/Servant, Sex Slave Pairings: Astarion/Original Character

It's been 7 centuries since the defeat of the Absolute, and the city of Baldur’s Gate, ruled by a legendary Eternal Duke Ancunin and forsaken by all gods, has descended into perpetual darkness. Aveline is one of the 'faded' - a group of people who this cruel world changed the most. Yet she possesses a unique talent.

Reccer says: Nobody writes porn like krapka. The characters don't even have to fuck before the fucking starts. The tension is always on point, and a lot is done with the world building with few words here and there. I'm so stoked to see where this is going!

Tidal Memories by Irken (4900 atm, it's a freshly-posted wip, Mature) Warnings: Canon-typical violence Pairings: The Emperor/Illithid Tav

It's an adventure/boat trip story 5 years post-game about the Emperor, illithid Tav, and some of the other companions (Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Astarion) going to the royal court of Tethyr to retrieve the Shield of Silvam. They explore both cities along the coast and their relationships with each other.

Reccer says: Irken's prose about being illithid and mind melding specifically is really sweet and thoughtful...

And then we have two recs for:

The Legends of Nexus Vermis by Masterangst12 (84260, Mature) Warnings: Canon-typical violence, torture, past abuse Pairings: Tav/Astarion

A post-game adventure taking place a few months after the reunion party following Astarion and Axel (Tav) meeting up with their former traveling companions.

Reccer #1 says:  The author describes things beautifully, and their OCs are engaging and fun to read about. I love their Tav (Axel) so much, and his relationship with Astarion. Reccer #2 says:  This is one of my favorite post game fics that I'm reading. I've been keeping up with it for a while now and I've just fallen in love with the original characters created for it. The author does such a great job of describing the scenes around them, I always have a very clear picture of what's going on!

The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with a heartbreaking and bloody theme, Revenge Fics!

[renren-006]

Lost Love Series/ Part 1- Atlanta-Virginia

Negan x fem reader

plot: reader and negan were together before the world ended, but after it did they got separated. what happens when they find each-other again? (the first part is just establishing where the reader is, not much mention of negan yet! will be maybe a 2/3 part story)

A/N: hey hey! for this story i am just on a Jeffry dean morgan kick and wanted to write something longer for him! hope you enjoy and leave some comments for ideas and requests are still open for anyone wanting to leave one!

warnings: violence,

Word count: 1140

other parts: Part 2: Heart Strings

You met Rick and his group in Atlanta. You had become friends with Beth when she joined you at the Hospital before she died. Yourself and Noah were at first unsure of the new group welcoming you in. You felt bad for them, having lost the young girl with such fire in her eyes. You loved Beth and you had cared for her, and Noah, while you were all at the Hospital. How you ended up getting the courage to leave and to watch the man, Daryl, carry her body out of the building, you didn't know. You stumbled after them, hopeless and tired. You had lost many people over the years of this apocalyptic world, but this loss stung your heart. You knew what it was like to love and lose people, you had lost your husband right when the world had ended, or at least you assumed he was dead after these 2ish years of never seeing him. 

The group meandered their way out of the city. Those next few weeks were a blur. You lost Noah soon after Beth when they found his home had been overrun, and not too long after that another one of Beth's friends had died. Three people in the matter of weeks had been swept away in front of your eyes. You had seen so much death that the essence of losing was something you were used too. 

The long road ahead of them stretched for miles, and miles. You were tired and so were your companions. Your company was not unnoticed by them and they knew they could never abandon you or leave you because you were all alive and together for a reason. The priest was the only one to try and talk to you, seeing as the rest of the group were more than fine never speaking to him. You took his company with grace and tried your best to talk with him.

“You’ve been wearing a ring since we met you” he said, glancing down at the emerald diamond on your finger. He had given that to you five years ago, of those three years you spent with him before the world ended two years ago. 

“My husband gave it to me” you told him, he glanced up at me. 

“You look young,” he said. 

“I guess I am.” you told the priest. 

“Where is he now?” he asked, you froze my face reading my uncertainty.

“I don't know” The conversation lulled after that.

*

You sat across from Negan at the dinner place the two of you went too. You had been out of college for a decent amount of time now while Negan was a few years older than you. You were in your late twenties while he was in his late thirties. You met him a few years ago, two to be exact, at your favorite bar. You two hit it off and he worried for a while that his age and how he was a bit older than you would scare you off, it didn't. Now that you had been with him for almost 2 and a half years the lines of age and life blurred and you just cared about being with him. The dinner was nice, soft jazz music filled the restaurant and the quiet talking of others there lulled the atmosphere that you almost didn't notice him bring out the ring. It was a shock to you but you felt instantly happy after seeing what he brought out. 

“Y/N will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” Negan asked, the restaurant filled with happy people turning towards your table. 

“Oh my god! Yes! Yes absolutely!” you told him, launching  from your chair to hug him in the middle of the restaurant. That day was one of the happiest for you, besides your small little wedding the two of you had. It was your parents and your friends gathered in a small courtroom a few months later to officially make you man and wife. Neither of you wanted something big and neither were very religious, so a small court wedding was. The engagement ring of a simple small band with little gems was soon joined by your emerald cut diamond one that smarkled in the sunlight. You wore that ring every day and he wore his band and never once took it off, more than happy to have you and it by his side. 

*

The topic of him never arose again and you knew the others had heard the conversation, given the looks you received from Sasha and Maggie. They both looked as if they wanted to know more, ask about my life before the world ended and before you had met them. You lingered alongside Sasha for a bit, she gave me a questionable look, You okay? I looked up at the gray clouded skies, something was brewing. You nodded back at Sasha solemnly, I'm fine. She nodded her head understanding not wanting to talk anymore about the loss. 

Everything that happened before was just motions, you just went through motions of surviving, but now, now was different. It was really the things you experienced and there were people my age that had also gone through hard times and lost many. You didn't have any room to complain about my losses when everyone had their own experiences with the living dead, and the dead that haunt. 

Surviving that night after the rain poured down on us became our next mission. With the storm it brought a horde of walkers towards the barn we were held up in. The doors had to be held shut by us that night, struggling to hold them with everyone's bodies against each other, the feeling of spirits breaking as we did. When the doors didn't need to be held anymore and everyone collapsed from the exhaustion you curled up on the floor and slept soundly from the exhaustion. 

You woke the next morning to the sun sparkling on your face from the splits in the boarded wall. You sat up, looking around at the others awake and asleep. The day flew by fast for you, the storm's mess and the new man leading you towards his home, you didn't know where the night before and the day's end started or ended. You were at a loss as to what had happened the past couple of weeks, like the rest of them you were going through the motions of surviving. Once you arrived at this new home a twinge in your hard pounded. Something was different about this place about Verginia, something that felt like home. You looked around the area outside the gates, no familiar scents, places or people, but still your heart pounded like it was a new, foreign place.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Sinners that are 1 or 2 degrees separated from our Saint share your stories! Ill share mine. by u/ContentPineapple3330

Sinners that are 1 or 2 degrees separated from our Saint, share your stories! I’ll share mine. So, bear with me. Let me set up the scene. It was 2021 (so our Saint still was popular in the US)— I was on a flight to California, and I was bumped up to first class. And I found myself seated by the most beautiful man. He exuded confidence and his clothes spoke real money. Honestly, my first thought was “Crap. I’m sitting by a famous actor, and I don’t know who he is. Crap, crap crap.”

Well, he wasn’t an actor — as I soon discovered before the plane took off, when he took a call to speak to what I presumed was a coworker about logistics, “Monticieto, blah, blah, blah, Jaguar, Range Rover, blah blah…” and my curiosity was piqued. Was he a lawyer? Real estate agent? Who was this mysterious moneyed man? I didn’t know, but somehow the ice was broken when he asked me a very boring question — and we fell into easy conversation. And once the stewardess gave us drinks (yay first class) the conversation flowed quite freely.

We were around the same age (late 20s / early 30s) — and he mentioned he used to live in Toronto. I asked him casually if between Monticieto and Toronto if he ever ran into Oprah’s latest interviewee, St. Meghan Markle, and he looked me dead in the eye. “Yes. Oh yes I have,” and gave a deep sigh. I then said, as chill as I possibly could muster, “Tell. me. more!” (At this point, thanks to wine/vodka soda water we were chatting like long lost best friends), and he got a bit standoffish and said, “well… I don’t really like talking about her because… people don’t really like what I have to say.”

I decided then and there to show my cards (recall 2021 — it almost felt dangerous to say you disliked her! Oh how times have changed!) — and I told him point blank that I thought she was pretty phony (though I was not nearly reliably informed about her antics as I am now.) He looked relieved by my response and replied, “oh you don’t know half of it!” And the next half hour he spilled anecdote after anecdote about her behavior.

So he was very much involved in Toronto’s high society, and was/is actually friends with Corey her ex. (Like, he pulled up his texts with him to share recent pictures of him and his wife and their cute kid.) After sharing many anecdotes of her pretentiousness and ultimately that “no one was missing her in Toronto,” he told me people only really tolerated her because of Jessica Mulroney, who according to my travel companion is very likable “once you know her.” (He only had nice things to say about Jessica, for what it’s worth. 🤷‍♀️)

His (and my) favorite story that he shared was that one time Corey took her for a romantic getaway somewhere tropical. But when they went to check into the hotel, Madame tried to get their hotel rooms upgraded. She started throwing a tantrum at the front desk staff, and in a fit of rage said “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” (Recall, she’s Rachel from Suits 😆) And everyone was like….. um…. No?

This was apparently the moment where the scales fell from Corey’s eyes, and he realized what he was dating. Apparently, he was considering proposing soon / during that trip, but instead — he decided to head back to Canada and end the trip early. I don’t think they immediately broke up — but I think Corey was starting to rethink everything. And was very much NOT heartbroken when things ended, but very much relieved.

Anyways, it was a rather entertaining flight!!!So that’s my story, but I know there’s people here that have better! post link author: ContentPineapple3330 submitted: July 11, 2024 at 01:57AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[transparentkinks]

You can't tell me some s$x toys didn't survive the bombs

and I think Hancock would definitely make it Nora's problem. Mentions of poly because always poly <3

NSFW MDNI

Hancock was Nora’s favorite companion to take scavenging. He seemed to understand her need to collect “junk” in her lover’s words and was happy to help her lug her various broken objects back to a settlement for her to tinker with. He over time learned to keep an eye out for what she considered most useful, showing them to her with pride. He even asked about what things were used for sometimes, and Nora got a nice chance to reminisce about good memories. 

“Hey Nora” Hancock approached her in an ancient house. “What’s this?” He lifted a metallic object for Nora to inspect. It looked to be stainless steel. It was long, kinda bumpy with a knob at the end- oh no. Her face flushed. How did that thing survive? 

“I don’t know.” She lied. 

“Then why did you look so surprised? You don’t wanna tell me?” Damn him, or maybe herself. She wasn’t the best liar. Should she admit what it was or double down? 

“It’s uh-” She felt bad lying to her lover. “It’s something I wasn’t supposed to recognize before..” She trailed off. 

“Oh ho ho!” He cheered. “It’s something naughty? Oh baby, you gotta tell me.” 

“It’s kinda obvious looking at it” Nora sighed. She watched with dejected embarrassment as she could see him examining the dildo and going from confused to very, very excited. Hancock quickly dropped to his knees and took off his pack, pulling out a bottle of purified water and vodka. “Oh god, John-” 

“Save that talk for later baby” He cackled. He looked up at her with mischief written plain across his face. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to know what it feels like”. 

Nora blushed looking at it, watching as Hancock poured first water over it to wash away any dust and then soaking it liberally in vodka. “You don’t seriously want to try that out now do you?” She asked incredulously. She already knew the answer. 

“I’ll make it worth your while sunshine, don’t you worry”. He winked at her. “You don’t gotta do nothing you don’t wanna do, but you can’t tell me you don’t wanna know what it feels like”. He practically slinked towards her, dildo in hand. She knew she did, but she still had such a hard time letting go of her old world ideals. Letting John do the things he does to her, doing the things she does to him, in some abandoned house with a secondhand sex toy. But, when in rome she supposed. If things were different why not enjoy it? “Why don’t you let me make you feel good now, then we’ll head on home and we’ll bust into that old ass whisky I found, and we’ll enjoy the night, huh?” He cupped her face, she was sure her face was deeply flushed as she met his eye. 

“That does sound nice-” She sighed, slinging her arms around his neck. He pulled her into an easy, molten kiss. Hancock always loved with such intensity, and when he touched her he set her skin on fire. He pushed her against the ancient dryer, propped her on the edge while he felt down her body. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good baby-” John sighed in her ear, pulling away to start rolling down her suit. She lifted her hands to help his effort. “Nick is gonna be excited about this discovery-” He hummed into the hollow of her throat before letting his eager mouth trail down her neck to her check and heaving breasts. She nearly froze at that thought. A lot of her lovers would be excited about this discovery. 

“John,” She sighed. “I don’t understand how insatiable you can be.” He pulled away from her nipple with a very nice feeling pop to answer her. 

“Baby if I could fuck you all day every day I would. I would commission paintings of your face when you cum if I could find an artist that could do you justice. I could devour you babydoll”. He let his lips follow his hands as they exposed more skin, rolling down her panties with her suit and managing to trap her legs with her rolled clothes staying on her by her boots. His teeth fall to her exposed thighs, lifting her legs over one shoulder to torment her shin. 

“John-” She whined. He often left her beyond words, how quickly and frequently he could get her into such compromising positions, screaming his name into the wasteland. 

“I can’t wait to see you cum on this thing.” He spoke just a breathe away from her folds. Her squirming in his grip was met with a pinch, making her squeak. Without much warning he set to licking at her. She could feel him almost drooling onto her as she squirmed. He worked one, then two fingers into her and scissoring them. She couldn’t help but squeal at the feeling and if her legs weren't bound and over her head they’d be flailing. Her hips bucked at the feeling of cold metal on her folds, moaned when she looked down and saw Hancock licking over the dildo as he slid it through her sopping folds. She felt the tip of the dildo against her before he slid a good amount into her quickly. She had no time to adjust, as he eagerly began fucking it into her. 

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty” He sighed, looking up at her as he fucked her deeper and faster with the dildo. Nora quickly became incoherent, losing herself in the waves of pleasure brought by Hancock’s words and the dildo and his mouth teasing her clit. She felt herself whining his name every time he set his tongue to her. He slammed the dildo into her g-spot and when he heard her groan he started abusing the spot. “Are you gonna come for me baby? Gonna cum all pretty on this fake steel cock?” He teased just over her clit, slamming into her, at least by how she felt, as hard and fast as he could manage. She saw white when she came. His thrust slowed into rocks as she pulsed around the dildo. She felt him push it into her as far as it would go and she sighed at the pressure. 

“You know-” He thrust it shallowly into her and she groaned. “It’s a short walk back to camp. Why don’t we keep this here till we’re ready to use it again” His grin was almost evil as he pulled her suit back up her still rather boneless body. She moaned and shook as he pulled her to sitting, helping her get her suit back over her body. He pulled her to standing and she shook as she leaned into him. 

“I don’t know about this John” She sighed, gripping his coat tight and leaning into his chest. She felt herself pulse in the aftershocks of her orgasm around the dildo and fought the urge to squirm. 

“I can carry you if you want-” He teased, holding her tight. This really was a dangerous discovery for Hancock.

[lanitalay]

One Day : Chapter 7

based on the netflix series of the same name.

azriel x reader

a/n: ok so I cried writing this chapter as well, I really want the type of unconditional love I write about.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

Masterlist

Valkyrie training was not how you would choose to spend your mornings.

Rock bottom kicked your ass when Nesta got sent to the House of Wind. In a way, you were happy you weren’t stuck in a house for so long. But Nesta was your sole companion. When she was gone, and you had a bad date or a bad day in general there was no one there. It was just you, in that crummy apartment. 

Your habits didn’t change when she was gone. The drinking, the drugs, the sex, they were all still there and you still indulged. Until one day, Nesta showed up. You cried when you saw her, crumbled into her arms like a piece of discarded paper. She told you about everything that happened and that she missed you. She looked at you and your place and said something like “this is no place for such a brilliant mind to waste. I want you to come with me.” 

Your initial instinct was to say “no, I’m good here.” But you weren’t. You were so lonely and Nesta was the only one who you wanted to be around, but now… she looked amazing and it seemed to highlight your own disheveled state. Maybe she would judge you. Now that she had changed, she feels she can play hero to you. 

Then she said “I miss you everyday, y/n. So does everyone else. I say this with love, your apartment is disgusting.” And there was Nesta, your friend who promised to clean you up if things got messy. So you said yes. Not knowing that you would get roped into Valkyrie training, even on Summer Solstice. 

You finish the last set of exercises and go get water. “Your form is looking better.” Always so kind. 

“You think?”

“Oh yes, I think you're ready to use the real weights.” You force a little laugh. Just being near him makes you want to cry. 

“Are you going to go to the boat party?” He asked, carefully avoiding eye contact. 

“Oh, I don’t think I should… I was just planning on staying in, maybe have a nice bath or something.” 

“But it's your favorite holiday, don’t you want to celebrate?” You forced a sip of water to go down your throat. It was always like this, perfectly polite.

“Well… with everything that happened, I just think it's best if I spend the day here. But I hope you have a good time.” Another forced, tight lipped smile and then you return to your room within the House of Wind. 

Once safe, in the privacy of your own chamber you take a deep breath and will the tears away. It was too much. Being around him so often was the biggest challenge of every day here. You’d be lucky if he was on a mission and missed the training. An average day was one where he only said hello and goodbye. A bad day was one like today, where he went out of his way to reach out. He was always there. Never forcing anything, never insisting, but present. 

But the fact that he was always there meant you never got any peace. Every time you saw him, you saw him limp and lifeless. The image would ambush you without warning and leave you wrecked with no way to forget it. There was no liquor here, no strange males. 

After a moment, you take another breath and go to the bathing room and run a bath. The sound of running water muffled some of your thoughts, you’d often empty the tub halfway and fill it up again just to have the constant noise. 

Today was especially difficult. Summer Solstice was when you met Azriel and in a way it was the day that the second phase of your life began. Azriel introduced you to his family who welcomed you with open arms, and you were an orphan desperate for affection. Your friends were always there for you, yes, but they had their own families. Priorities that weren’t you. With the Inner Circle you were each other's priorities. Now the family has grown exponentially. 

You groan, hating this train of thought.

The bath is finally full and you step in, eager to give your muscles some relief. You submerge yourself completely in the water, seeing how long you can go without air. The racing of your heart when you can’t stay under any longer is the closest thing to an adrenaline rush you can get these days. 

After an hour or so, you get out and put on a fluffy robe, resigned to spend the rest of the day in bed. If you fall asleep now you wouldn’t agonize over every passing minute. Before you can crawl into bed, a knock sounds at the door. 

You think it must be Nesta, so you tell the house to “let her in.” Heavy steps and curling shadows signal that Azriel is the one who had knocked. 

He looks a little flustered. Unused to seeing you in a robe. “I- I’m sorry I just wanted to bring you this” he holds a bouquet of flowers out and lowers his gaze to the floor. 

You freeze at the offering and it takes every single ounce of self control to not burst into tears. “What- I don’t- uhm-” you stutter, not sure what to say. 

“I always bring you flowers for our anniversary.” He’s still holding them out. 

“You didn’t need to- I don’t even expect them anymore.” 

He brings his gaze back up and you swear someone kicked you in the chest. He looks defeated. “I know this year has been difficult but…Y/n meeting you was the best thing that could have happened to me and I’ll always celebrate that.” 

You turn from him and cover your eyes with your hands. Hiding the tears that refused to be held back. “I- I’m sorry. Can you go? I want to be alone right now.” 

You heard his shuffling footsteps and the sound of the door closing. But you knew without looking that he was still there. 

“Y/n, I’m- I don’t know what else to do. I’ve given you space but you just… you- I just- You were, well to me you still are my best friend. I’ve missed you so much and I- just tell me what to do. I’ll do anything to be friends again. Please.” You were still facing away from him, wiping away tears. You heard more steps and then “here.” He presented you with a box of tissues. 

“Why are you kind to me?” You asked, weakly. 

He looked confused by the question “what do you mean?” 

“I mean you should hate me Azriel, you have every right to hate me and you should. But you come here with flowers and bring me tissues and you look out for me at training and you shouldn’t be doing any of that.” 

“Are you really asking me that?”

“Yes, Azriel, if I were you I’d hate me. I’m no good.” You look away from him again but he grabs your free hand and makes sure you’re looking at him when he says “Y/n, listen to me, I could never hate you.” 

“Stop-”

“No, you need to hear this. I have never hated you. Nothing you have done or could ever do will make me hate you, alright? I love you, more than anything this last year has shown me how much I love you. I don’t even know how to put it into words-” he takes his other hand and puts it on his chest “I- my life means less to me when you aren’t in it. Everything I see and do I want to share with you because you’re… well you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I understand that you were hurt by my actions and that having to heal me was difficult and I’m so sorry-” he looks around and then drops to both his knees. 

“Y/n please, I am begging you, please let me be your friend again. I- I miss you and everyone says I should stay back and give you more time and I will if that’s what you want but I’m begging you please I-” you drop down in front of him and crush him in a hug that he swears brings him back to life. You cling to him so tight and he holds you like a delicate treasure. 

“I’m- I was so cruel, Az.” You don’t know the relief that flooded him at hearing you call him that. 

“You were hurting.” 

“I’m a wretch, I ruined my whole life-” you take a gasping breath “I almost lost you, Az.” Sobs rake through you and you cling to the Ilyrian with everything you have. 

“But I’m here, I’ll always be here.” 

“It hurts so much, I- don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Just breathe, we can figure out the rest later.” He kept holding you, unwavering. 

You bury your head in his neck and say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over. 

Minutes or hours went by like that. Azriel got you to change out of the robe and into something comfy. “I was just going to sleep until tomorrow” you say, unsure how to proceed. 

“I was thinking we could eat something together, maybe watch the fireworks?” 

You hadn’t realized that you did not eat anything after training and were indeed starving. 

“That sounds nice.” 

You were eating in front of the windows that overlooked the Sidra. The house brought two cozy chairs so you could enjoy the view. The meal had gone by in silence until you asked “what will Cassian say when he finds out I’m your favorite person?” 

“Oh he already knows.” Azriel’s heart skips a beat when you smile at his answer. 

“Az?” 

“Yeah?”

“Just… Happy anniversary.”

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Cuff(ed) It

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in The Shape of Youniverse

The Prompt: You and Steven attend his department holiday party 

Requested by: a lovely nonnie!!

Pairing: Steven x afab!reader, background Jake x afab!reader, and Marc x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Spice-O-Meter: 🌶🌶🌶 (Rated Explicit, Minors DNI!)

Word Count: 3.8k 

CW/TW: Tonight we’re pleased to offer Steven’s students being thirsty for him, talk of meddling in one’s marriage (nothing serious though), tipsy (but still very consensual) sex, exhibitionism, f!receiving fingering, mirror!sex, doggy!style, mentions of pregnancy and conceiving, breeding kink, lactation kink and breastplay, dirty talk, tooth-rotting sappiness over little bebes at the end 

A/N: THE FINAL PROMPT FILL! WOOOOO ONLY TOOK ME A SHORT QUICK THREE-ODD MONTHS TO GET THROUGH THEM ALL 😝 This fic? Gonna be honest, she’s a bit chaotic, but in the best way I hope. I started writing it, felt stuck, opened a new document and this poured out. Translations at the bottom of the post! 

“You know, I never noticed it until tonight, but you know who’s actually quite fit?”

“Who?”

“Doctor Grant.”

“Oh girl I knowwwwwww. At school he slouches and wears those dorky shirts, but at stuff like this, when he’s in a suit and his wife’s with him, I always remember how sneaky-hot he is.”

“Oh my god, exactly!”

“It’s like a department rite-of-passage to fancy Doctor Grant a bit, if I’m honest, especially after the holiday party or a fundraiser for the school or something when we all remember how bloody handsome he is.”

“I thought it was just me!” the first girl (a graduate student was your educated guess) giggled.

“No, it’s definitely a thing,” her friend confirmed.

You stood paralyzed in the restroom stall as the conversation unfolded on the other side. You’d already peed, should you leave the little cubicle and inevitably interrupt them?

Would they recognize you? You didn’t want to embarrass them. They were right after all, Doctor Grant was really quite fit, though you were admittedly biased.

Plus a craven, vain, possessive part of you wanted to hear more. With a six-month-old at home, your husband in the midst of three careers, and just the sheer amount of time you’d been together, sometimes the melee of life could make you forget just how well you’d done in the spouse department. It was nice to be reminded.

“What’s the tea on his wife, hm? How did Mrs. Grant cuff that?” The first girl prodded.

Her question was a sentence to stay in the stall. They definitely would recognize you if you emerged now.

“No idea honestly,” her companion answered, “I mean, she’s definitely pretty. They told Dean they met through a friend, and on their first date he took her to an exhibit of her favorite artist and like did all this research to impress her.”

“He had to impress her?” she echoed, her tone tinged with disbelief. Your brow furrowed. Yes, your husband was a fox, but you weren’t totally out of his league, were you? You were certainly worthy of being courted a bit, even if you did jump into bed with Marc on the first date. “I’d be on my knees every night for a guy who looked like Doctor G and was so romantic.”

They both burst more giggles. To be fair, you did spend a fair amount of time on your knees. Especially since you’d started dating Marc first, who unlike Steven, had his fair share of bedmates and exuded more inherent confidence. It intimidated you. So when you started sleeping together, you’d concocted a self-imposed need to prove to Marc that you were up to par, if not capable of exceeding, his former lovers. It was why when you learned his ex-wife was The (stupidly stunning) Scarlet Scarab, you wholly lost your shit. How does one compete with a gorgeous superhero?

“I bet she’s on them a fair bit,” Miss Know-It-All divulged, “Doctor Burke did her doctorate along with him and they didn’t start seeing each other until his last year of the course. And now they’re married and just had a baby. Bitch worked quick.”

“Honestly, can’t knock it,” the first girl conceded.

Thank you, you thought. A part of you wanted to interject that Nyla had been unexpectedly conceived on your honeymoon and you’d dated Marc for a year, then him and his alters for another year after that before getting engaged. The pair of you also weren’t literal babies like these girls currently gossiping a meter away from you. You were both adults, your husband was in his forties for heaven's sake.

“I bet the baby’s cute,” she mused further.

“Oh my goodness, he hasn’t showed you? All Doctor G does is bang on about Nyla. It’s literally either coursework or his kid if you talk to him.”

Your heart swelled. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard from Steven’s colleagues what a proud papa he was to your little girl. Hearing it from strangers, and completely unprompted, was extra special though.

“I’ve never really had a reason to talk to him, and now I don’t know if I can actually without looking like a total idiot.”

“No, he’s really sweet, he’s the type of fit guy who doesn’t know he’s fit. And he’s like scary clever. You can ask him literally anything about ancient Egypt and he knows it. But he’s also not an arsehole about it you know? I’m applying to be his TA next semester.”

“Are you?” she gasped. “Really?”

“Ummm yeah, why wouldn’t I want a dishy, brilliant thesis advisor?” Miss Know-It-All countered. “He should be at Oxford or Cambridge really. You know Sam Miller babysits for them?”

“They do?!” Her friend exclaimed. “Don’t know if I’d want that gig for the inside scoop or if it’d be too much pressure. Their kid is still a baby right?”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s worth it to suss out if Doctor G and her are open to…let’s say, ‘featured players’ in the bedroom.”

“Stop Emma, you’re terrible!”

“She came to one of his lectures once with the baby and Dean thought he heard them fucking in his office.”

Fuck, you swore internally. Steven had sworn the offices would be empty! You’d kept quiet!

“Noooo! Doctor G is hot I’ll give you that, but he dresses like my grandpa. There’s no way he’s that kinky.”

“Maybe he’s not, but she could be,” Emma pointed out. “Only one way to find out.”

“You are such a slag,” Emma’s friend accused her playfully. “Come on, we need to get back, I want another drink.”

You heard two pairs of heels shuffle to the door, then it open and close behind them, and at last the coast was clear. Finally exiting the stall, you robotically washed your hands and touched up your lipstick, moving to check that your hair still looked decent afterwards.

Your gaze lingered in the mirror to give yourself a once-over. You’d chosen a flattering, but pretty conservative dress for Steven’s UCL holiday party. Sure, there wasn’t much you could do about the size your tits had swollen up to while you were breastfeeding, but they weren’t necessarily on display tonight either. Your currently huge boobs were for your husband’s eyes (plus hands, mouth, and sometimes cock) only.

Despite your attempts to leave the eavesdropped chat between Emma and her friend in the loo where it belonged, it became obvious fairly quickly that you failed spectacularly at doing so.

“You alright?” Steven inquired, his features creased with concern. “You were in the toilets for ten minutes and have barely said a word since. Something wrong?”

“I’m fine, sorry honey,” you dispelled the worry from his face. “Just overheard an interesting conversation in there that I haven’t been able to shake.”

You grabbed a fresh glass of wine from a passing server while Steven asked “What about?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mmmhmm,” you confirmed, taking a swig of cabernet. “It’s apparently a UCL Ancient Civ rite-of-passage to have a crush on you.”

Your husband looked at you like you’d sprouted another head. His incredulity made you burst into laughter.

“What? I’m not surprised! You’re a very good-looking, intelligent, kind man! I’ve been telling you this since we first met, after all this time—“ you leaned in and lowered your voice to add “—and all the ways I’ve let you fuck me, do you really believe that us getting married and having Nyla was just some cosmic fluke?”

“Honestly? Yeah.”

“Baby—“

Steven averted his gaze and shrugged, offering “Marc was always the handsome one…” as his explanation.

That line. It made you want to whip your wine glass across the room. You restrained yourself and instead growled through gritted teeth, “It feels silly for me to have to remind you as much as I do that you two share the exact same face and body.”

“But still—“

“No more buts anymore Steven! You have co-eds hot for you, you’re officially sexy independent of Marc,” you teased. “And you ought to feel lucky that we’re secure enough in our marriage that I’m not bothered by it. Especially since one of them wants to be your TA and replace Sam as our sitter to see if we’re into threesomes. Which I guess is better than trying to steal you from me outright, to be fair.”

Another gaping incredulous stare from Steven. “Who?”

“I didn’t get her name,” you lied. Truth was, Emma didn’t have a popsicle’s chance in hell at interfering in your marriage. Never mind that you and Steven were deeply in love and had a child together, she hadn’t a clue about the D.I.D, Marc’s past life as a mercenary, his ex-wife, not to mention the service to the Egyptian god of the moon which led to a stint as a superhero. You two had shared and been through too much for a horny twenty-something to impact what you had. “But apparently Dean heard us when we…um, had ‘parental time’ in your office a couple months ago.”

“Bollocks.”

“We knew we were being naughty,” you shrugged.

“Because it was your idea,” he muttered.

“Oh don’t start with me, Doctor Grant. You’re the one who told me not to use the nursing apron,” you fired back. “Didn’t you want to say hi to the department’s Director of Education? There he is.”

***

The rest of the evening unfolded uneventfully, though Emma and her friend, who you learned was named Marnie, did stop by for a quick chat. You were content to clam up and just watch the interaction unfold. They were perfectly polite, unlike their prattling in the bathroom, though they very much fit the trope of a pair of giggling schoolgirls. Steven, of course, was oblivious.

Blame it on the wine, the rare baby-less outing, and being emboldened by strangers raving about how hot your husband was, but when Dean insisted that you and Steven come to the after-party at a pub nearby, you insisted on going. Steven was only one of the professors in attendance, because he was one of the younger, cooler ones, therefore the vibe was much more relaxed and festive than the one at the official university get-together.

You’d had Dean over for dinner (a takeaway dinner that you had to constantly get up from the table because Nyla had started teething that week, but dinner still) so spending time with him was easy and delightful while Steven mingled with his other colleagues.

You also liked to privately touch base with him about Steven’s professional wellbeing. Your husband was tight-lipped about any office woes, and while Dean wasn’t privy to your husband’s D.I.D., you knew that sometimes aspects of it could manifest in your husband’s workplace. The last thing you wanted to do was interfere, but Steven truly loved what he did, and as his wife with a tendency to fret, you liked to keep a tab or two to ensure nothing jeopardized his passion.

“I’m impressed,” Dean remarked as you two huddled outside the pub while he had smoke. “You haven’t batted an eye at all the little first-year masters students throwing themselves at him.”

You laughed. Steven’s hot professor status was really department-wide thing it seemed. “I can’t blame them. He’s very dreamy, but I baby-trapped him so…”

Dean cackled when you punctuated your response with a shrug. “No flies on you, darling. Cheers.”

You and your husband gracefully bowed out when mentions of moving to a club began to take hold. Too tipsy and tired for the Tube, Steven flagged a cab for the both of you, even though it meant that he’d have Jake backseat-driving in his head the whole ride back to Brixton.

Once inside, you rested your head on your husband’s shoulder, hoping to maybe doze off for a few minutes in case Nyla was up when you got home. Steven automatically pressed a kiss to your temple. He was so solid and warm, so safe, you couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him and place a hand over his knee.

“In case I haven’t told you yet, you look pretty as a present tonight,” he murmured into your ear.

You don't know what it was about his compliment, perhaps it was the way he said it, or the way you’d had four glasses of wine, but Steven's soft words of adoration set your body alight.

“Hmm, thank you darling,” The hand that was on his knee traveled towards his inseam to squeeze the meat of his thigh. “Wanna unwrap me? Or maybe just take off the bow? I’d let you slip my knickers aside and play with your present right now if you wanted.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, both at your filthy offer and the fact that you’d dragged your hand to cup him through his trousers. “Babe, he’ll see.”

The cabbie had airbuds in (a personal pet peeve of Jake’s) and eyes trained on the road. You shook your head imperceptibly. “Not if we’re careful about it.”

To prove your point, you subtly shifted to drape your thigh over Steven’s leg so he could do just as you suggested. It seemed that your fondling of your husband’s package, steadily but insistently coaxing him to hardness, was able to convince him to follow suit. He tucked his hand under your skirt, mimicking your approach, dragging his palm slowly up your leg. Next, his nimble fingers nudged the dampened crotch of your knickers aside and delved between your folds.

You could feel Steven’s length jump and swell when he made contact with your pussy. It prompted you to rub at him a little harder, biting your lip when one of his digits penetrated you.

“My saucy exhibitionist minx,” he purred into your ear.

“Says the man who screws me in cafe loos,” you shot back without any real heat. How could you be snarky when Steven was slowly, torturously finger-fucking you and his hot, hard manhood was pulsing under your palm?

“Mmmm, I always get a stiffy when we eat there now,” Steven confessed in a whisper about your neighborhood cafe. “That was insane, sucking at your titties and riding my cock like that in the middle of the day.”

“I know daddy,” you sighed, clenching around his digit at the thought. “So naughty, but so good.”

The remainder of the ride home passed in a labored silence between you two, both trying to enjoy each other’s ministrations, but not so much that you clued in the driver. There was one close call when Steven had the gall to sneak another finger inside of you. You nearly drew blood biting your lip to stifle moaning at the intrusion, since it meant you could get straight to fucking once you arrived home.

Tonight wasn’t the first date night you’d come chomping at the bit to make love, so thankfully you two had a pre-established routine. Steven used his coat to cover his groin and went straight to the nursery to check on Nyla while you paid and said goodnight to Sam (your desire was easier to conceal after all). Once Nyla was confirmed to be asleep and Sam had left, you met in your bedroom and tore each other’s clothes off.

The wine warped the edges of your perception, making the clash of teeth and tongues between you and Steven blur into a buzz of arousal, until next thing you knew you were naked, on your hands and knees and your husband was pushing his thick erection inside of you in one determined, smooth shove. You almost moaned the wrong name, nearly keening “Jake” when he entered you, because the position wasn’t one in Steven’s usual rotation. He much preferred for you to ride him, or for you to be on your back - any position where he could sink into your cunt and suckle at your nipples simultaneously.

You weren’t complaining however, and happily pushed back into his thrusts. It wasn’t until Steven angled his hips just right to hit your g-spot, and you threw your head back that you realized it. “We’re in front of the mirror.”

“Mmmhmm,” Steven confirmed, “like to see your tits swing and…ungh, they’ve been watching since you started groping me in the taxi.”

The revelation that Marc and Jake were privy to your coupling had a fresh wave of heat racing down your spine and pooling in your core as Steven continued to rail you.

“Was just so horny for you baby,” you explained, “everyone was eyeing you, but you’re mine and you know you’re mine and I know you’re mine, but I just wanted to feel it. I…I couldn't wait. ”

“You have us now,” he assured you. “Can’t count how many times we’ve seen people checking you out and you’re none the wiser. They can look, but you belong to us, don't you?”

“Yesssss daddy,” you mewled, now equally drunk off the alcohol and your arousal. “Keep giving me your big prick, feels so good.”

“Vamos, Steven, let’s give her more of this big prick she wants so badly,” Jake’s voice growled from behind you. His broad arms moved from your hips to encase your waist and pulled you upright, “Te gusta nena? Like being impaled on our cock like this?”

Your answer was non-verbal, but unmistakably emphatic.

“I think she likes it,” Marc’s American accent chuckled darkly from behind you.  

You whined the increase in fullness the change in position brought about, paired with the image you all made in the mirror together. You were first drawn to your husband’s determined expression, so set on his objective to make you see stars that his face was twisted into a snarl. Next, you glimpsed your large breasts heaving with every snap of his hips, and your cunt speared open on his massive erection. The sheer depravity of your reflection made you tilt your head back onto your husband’s broad shoulder and screw your eyes shut.

You knew Steven had wrestled back control of the body when his two large hands found your tits and began to pluck at your nipples. “Love you so much darling, want more kids together. Want Nyla to be just the first.”

His words made your channel flutter around his length at the thought.

“Would you let me? Maybe not tonight, but I want to fill you up with every last drop of my cum, keep these titties big and leaking for me, watch your belly grow again with another gorgeous child.”

“Ohhh fuck Steven,” you gasped, “I want that too.”

“Yeah? You want me to pump you full again?” He urged you, one hand leaving your nipple to suck his soaked fingertip into his mouth for a taste of your milk.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted. You didn’t want another kid right away, but seeing what excellent fathers your husband made definitely meant you wanted more babies eventually. “For now though, will you just make me cum?”

“‘Course darling,” he rumbled, his hand dropping to your clit to push you over the edge. You’d been simmering with yearning all night, so it didn’t take much more than Steven’s hand on your clit, his other on your breast, and his length hammering into you from behind to drown you in ecstasy.

You crumpled back against Steven’s chest while your orgasm coursed through you, too overwhelmed with pleasure to support yourself. Your husband buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply and reveling in the beauty of your release that was unfolding in his arms.

You’d barely floated back down to earth before Steven manhandled you back onto your elbows while he chased his respective climax. The relentless pistoning of his cock into your spent hole emptied every thought from your head that wasn’t “yes”, “good” , or “full”. It wasn’t long before you felt your husband’s seed painting your inner walls and collapsing on top of you.

The late hour and the alcohol made you both slower in extracting yourselves from one another, and after exchanging some sated, passionate kisses, you made a beeline to relieve yourself and wash off your makeup. Steven joined you a moment later in the en-suite to begin his respective nighttime regimen. You two readied for bed in companionable silence. Then:

“It was Emma and Marnie, wasn’t it?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the p as you dotted on moisturizer, “Don’t hold it against them though, I think Emma’s going to apply to be your TA. It was all harmless in the loo, I promise.”

“Alright,” he surrendered. Despite still feeling buzzed, you clocked a momentary conversation between Steven and an alter in the mirror above the sink. Whatever they said to one another, it prompted Steven to add, “You’re very confident about having us all wrapped around your little finger, aren't you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you parried, meeting your husband’s gaze in the mirror. “Especially when I still probably have some of your cum inside me.”

“Esposita está tan descarada esta noche,” Jake pushed forward to remark.

“Soy--no...estoy un poco borracha todavía,” you confessed. As if your husband needed more proof the wine continued to affect you, you announced out of seemingly nowhere, “I need to say night-night to Ny-Ny.”

Steven intervened, catching you when you tried to bolt from the bathroom. “Darling, you can see her on the monitor. Don't wake her up.”

“Don’t tell me when I can see my baby,” you countered with sudden defensiveness that only surfaces when one’s a bit blitzed. You wriggled out of his grasp, “I’ll be quiet.”

You tipsily tip-toed down the hall to Nyla’s nursery, making good on your promise and not causing your daughter to stir at all as you crept to watch her slumber.

It wasn’t as if you wanted to pick her up or play with her, you just couldn’t fathom going to bed without bidding Nyla goodnight. Your eyes studied the little miracle before you. Her plump little feet that you could never pepper with enough kisses, the curve of her lips that must have been painted on her face by a Renaissance master, those insanely long, dark eyelashes she inherited from her father. There were no words, and never would be, to accurately describe the love you had for your daughter.

You silently blew a kiss in her direction, and found Steven in the doorway when you turned to retreat. While you were kind of peeved that he felt the need to supervise you, you weren't that drunk (you were), you pressed yourself into his warm, sturdy side as you both returned to your bedroom.

“She’s just more beautiful than I ever dreamed she’d be,” you whispered reverently.

“I know,” Steven agreed in a murmur as he guided you back to bed. “We’re the two luckiest people alive. Now let’s go to sleep, love.”

A/N: Yayyy we made it! True life: I’m Emma and Marnie IRL. Also are long, sappy afterglows my thing now? Can’t thank everyone enough for getting me to 500, playing with me and requesting these fics, waiting the approximately 98 years it took for me to fill them!! 

ESPECIALLY since in the meantime, I now have over 900 followers which is just bonkers!!!!! BONKERS I TELL YOU! I don’t think I’ll do another prompt celebration like I did for 500 if I reach 1k, but something special will come down the pipeline for sure! Love you all so much and again, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU! 

Translations: 

Vamos - Let’s go/Come on  

Te gusta nena? - You like it babe? 

Esposita está tan descarada esta noche - Wifey is so cheeky tonight 

Estoy un poco borracha todavía - I’m still a little drunk 

Taglist: @twwcs​, @rmoonstoner​, @hot-mess-express1​, @murdickdocked, @toracainz​, @saahmi​, @unspokenmoon​, @winterbiipp​, @avatarofseshat​ @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6​, @harrys-tittie​, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32​, @dawnsutopia​, @strawberry1042-blog @nikitawolfxo​, @weirdo125 @damnzelsoul​ @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake​

[talkfastlibrary]

A Second Meeting—Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

**the dress photo is simply for the outfit not how I imagine reader to be! So it’s here simply for outfit choice🙂

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

Synopsis: you meet up with Jake again to discuss The Arrangement but your questions remain unanswered. Yet, you find out a bit more about Jake.

word count: 2.2k

Feedback is always welcome!

Enjoy!

****

Three days have gone by since dinner with Jake and you’re starting to think it was an illusion or a weird dream. Reynolds has been driving you everywhere just like Jake said which was nice to save money on gas but also strange because you’re not used to this. 

On Thursday Reynolds arrived with a black legal envelope and you ask if it’s the paperwork Jake mentioned. Reynolds nodded and you left it on your counter for two more days.

A week and many debates in your mind later, you finally decided to open it just to see what’s inside. You’re surprised to find it’s only five pages long. The first couple are about him, his schooling, random information, his accomplishments both in the Navy and otherwise, his likes and dislikes. 

Then there’s lists of what you’ll have access to; his house(s), cars, private plane, vacation homes, a credit card of hers linked to his account and then any form of a physical relationship should you desire one. He lists that he’s a good cuddler and gives great massages. He says he will be an ear for her whenever she needs and that he’s as much her companion as she is his.

The last page lists what she’d need to oblige to; the Naval Aviation birthday at the end of the month, naval dinners, weddings, vacations, and family get-togethers. At the bottom is a place for the both of them to sign then a post-it note from him stating your grandmother’s medical bills and further assistance from nursing staff has been taken care of by him. 

A lump forms in your throat at that nugget of information and just to make sure you open up your emails to see the final payment notices from all of your grandmother’s expenses. The papers drop to the floor and you’re soon to follow in a crumpled heap. You start to cry but then pull  yourself together quickly because you know once you start you won’t be able to stop. 

“Keep it together,” you whisper to yourself and shuffle the papers back in order. 

Then you start to truly think of all the things he can help you with financially; you could move your grandma back home, pay off your loans and debts on credit cards you used for your grandma. You pick up the last piece of paper that has his note and there’s a phone number next to it. 

You take out your phone and type in the number followed by a quick text:

I read the paperwork. I still have questions. Can we meet again?

His response is fairly quick back:

Of course. Join me for brunch tomorrow? Reynolds will know where to take you, he’ll be there by 11:00

You simple like the response. Your heart is pounding. 

Are you actually going to agree to this?

***

Reynolds is knocking on your door at 11:00 and he smiles when you open the door. 

“Good morning, Reynolds.”

“Good morning, Miss y/n.”

“I hate to ask…but does this look okay? I don’t want to be underdressed,” you press down on your light green dress. It reminded you of Jake’s eyes. 

“You look wonderful. Mr. Seresin will agree, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” you exhale and follow him to the car. “Where are we going?”

“A favorite brunch spot of his called Horizons.”

“Oh…” you chew on your lip as you climb into the backseat. You were almost hoping it would be at his home, surely he has staff to cook for him. Why would he want to cook for you anyway?

The drive is only thirty minutes and you’re tapping on the black envelope with the paperwork you pulled from your bag. You run through the questions you had so you don’t forget them. When you arrive at the restaurant you see it’s along the water, luxury cars are shining in the morning sun. 

Just like with dinner, the host walks you to the back on the deck outside where Jake is. He stands up when you appear, all smiles and so very handsome. He looks wonderful in tan chinos and a green sweater that matches your dress perfectly. 

“Good morning, y/n,” he greets. His eyes slide down to the envelope but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Morning,” you respond shyly. 

“I hope you’re hungry, they have wonderful omelets,” he pulls out your chair. 

“Do they have pancakes?”

“Yes, they have pancakes.”

After placing your order and being given your drinks, you slide the black envelope on the table but Jake covers your hand. You look up and he has a slight frown on his face. 

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” he removes his hand then proceeds to cut up his egg. “Tell me about your week, what did you do?”

You stare at him in confusion and he senses your hesitancy. He shifts his gaze from his breakfast to your puzzled expression. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m so confused and have so many questions about all of this…”

“I know, and I promise we will discuss it.”

“But you said the ball was in my court, so can’t we talk about it now?”

“That depends,” he grins.

“On?”

“By saying the ball is in your court…does that mean you agree and signed the form?”

You close your mouth then huff because you haven’t agreed to anything and definitely didn’t sign for it. You felt a bit of a kinship to the little mermaid, Ariel, signing that could mean signing your life away for all you knew. You were going to voice all your concerns. He smiles back easily because he knows he’s got you, and it’s not in a patronizing way which makes it worse.

“That’s what I thought. Now, tell me about your week. I’ve thought of you everyday.”

Your stomach flips at that comment. How does he do that? He slips in these one liners that always catches you off guard but also makes you feel fuzzy inside. 

You continue your breakfast and tell him about your week. How busy you’ve been, how late you’ve been getting home from work and the constant headache you seem to be getting. While you’re talking you realize how easy it is to talk to him. You spill everything you’ve been feeling and he really listens which is something you’re not used to. 

While he takes care of the bill you gaze out at the water watching the waves ebb and flow.

“Would you like to walk along the beach?” he asks.

“Could we?”

“Of course, I take it you didn’t bring a sweater?”

“No…”

“I came prepared,” he nods, then pulls a cream cardigan from the back of his chair as he stands. You stand up as well. 

“I’ll be okay–”

But then a breeze blows and you shiver. He gives you a knowing look then holds up the cardigan. You turn around as he helps you put it on,  his fingers brush the top of your arms and you shiver again. 

“Fits you perfectly,” he mumbles, his breath blowing in your ear. He’s standing very close to you.

“Is it yours?” you spin away from him. Being so close is making it hard for you to think. 

“No. I bought it for you.”

“What?” you squeak, eyes widening at the gesture. “You didn’t have to–”

“I wanted to,” he shrugs, placing his hands in his pockets. He rolls back and forth on the balls of his feet then jerks his head towards the water. “How about that walk?”

It’s a little steep and rocky getting down to the water, you’re grateful you decided on a nice pair of sandals and not your wedges you were debating on. There’s one more big drop and you pause staring at the distance of it. Jake hopped down no problem.

“Jump,” he holds out his arms, “I’ve got you.”

You inch forward, some pebbles tumble to the earth as you crouch down. You gauge the distance again between you and his open arms.

“Are you sure?” you chew on your lip.

“Positive. Jump, y/n,” he commands softly, his fingers motioning you forward.

You suck in a deep breath, close your eyes and push off. You gasp the short moment you’re in the air and then you’re in the sturdy arms of Jake, his hands curve around your waist and lower back while yours is locked behind his neck. 

“Why’d you close your eyes?” he asks.

“So it’d be over faster,” you exhale.

He sets you down, gently releasing you from his hold. You’re not sure if he did that to keep you at ease or if he didn’t really want to touch you.

“You have more questions, don’t you?” he moves through the sand and you follow.

“Only a hundred.”

You walk in silence for a bit and he still keeps a chaste distance between the two of you then a realization comes to your mind. 

“Why aren’t you at work?”

“I have Sundays off,” he shrugs gazing out on the water.

“Oh…” 

“Would you like to sit for a while?” he motions towards a large piece of driftwood that has been flattened enough to make a decent bench. You nod and join him on the smooth wood.

You count in your head to eighty-three seconds then take that as your cue to ask your first question. You open your mouth but he speaks first. 

“Amazing how water can be so calm and then so violent the next, isn’t it?”

You stare out at the water, a few white caps rolling in and then outlines of boats in the distance. It doesn’t look too bad from here but you’ve read about riptides and how dangerous they can be under the surface of the water.

“Do you not like the water?” you ask carefully, somehow this seems like a sensitive topic for him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs leaning on his knees. “It reminds me of you, actually. You look so calm and peaceful on the outside but on the inside, you’ve got a riptide, a true force. I saw it last week at dinner with how quick you jumped to all of those conclusions about me.”

You sit up a little straighter at the mention of riptides, it was like he was reading your mind. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no, you have every right to think of all angles of this. I want to know your questions, y/n, I do. But I first need you to trust me that there is no recourse or trap of some kind.”

“How can I trust you when I hardly know you?” you’re staring at him as he stares at the water, the soft oceanic breeze tousles his hair. The undersides of his eyes look a little dark, like he hasn’t been sleeping. 

“You read all about me in the paperwork.”

“That’s not the same, that’s just words on a sheet but it doesn’t really show me who you are. And signing it would feel like I’m signing my life away to the devil or Ursula.”

“Ursula?” he cocks his head to the side smirking, “from the Little Mermaid?”

“Yes. Ariel lost her voice, I don’t want to lose mine.”

“That’s not going to happen. You have a wonderful voice that is very sure and profound. You might be a little closer to the devil aspect.”

“Are you the devil?”

“I’ve been referred to him once or twice,” he nods. “Does that scare you?”

You squint your eyes at him puckering your lips. You notice the way his eyes flick down to your lips and you look over the top of his head.

“Turn forward,” you instruct and he does so, “now look to the right…”

“What are you looking for?”

“Horns. I don’t see any so you must not be the devil.”

That makes him laugh, it causes his eyes to crinkle and you can see how nice his teeth are. He really does have a great smile.

“You’re sweet.”

“Can we discuss the paperwork now?” 

“Not yet, let’s enjoy the water for a bit longer.”

You sit in silence watching the waves roll and flower over the shore with seagulls swooping down low. The water looks so inviting you remove your sandals then walk to the edge of the beach. The wet sand is a little cool but the squish feels nice between your toes. You take a few paces forward and then the water rolls over your feet causing you to squeal at the coolness. You close your eyes inhaling the fresh salty air, the skirt of your dress flapping against your legs and one sleeve of your cardigan falls down your shoulder. 

Your questions are still bouncing around your head but now a new part of you is wishing Jake would come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. You want to hear his voice close to your ear again and maybe see what his smile feels like against your own lips. With a sigh, you open your eyes then turn around to see he’s already staring at you, his gaze intense and smoldering. It makes your cheeks warm and also a little sad because you can see a violent storm in his eyes, just like the one he was talking about with the water. 

What’s his violent storm?