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runningfrom2am · 5 months

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cold nights // part six

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i just finished writing s1, and we're halfway through! so in case anyone was wondering, s1 will have 12 parts :) i haven't started s2 yet but i am so excited to!!

series masterlist // playlist

Days passed, no sign of Coryo. The only reason you know he isn't dead is because Sejanus came and told you he would be alright. That didn't do much to quell your worries.

Selfishly, you were scared you wouldn't get to see him again. You knew you wouldn't, actually. Now you were truly alone. Just you and his blanket, the book he gave you, and the dress your mother made. And Sejanus Plinth, you supposed. None of the surviving tributes would even talk to you- not that you really felt like talking. Just reading. You've read and re-read Romeo and Juliet no less than three times since Coriolanus passed the book through the bars to you the night before you went into the arena.

"I know you asked for this, and it's a little early, but happy birthday." Coryo whispers, smiling as the dark of night encases the two of you into your own little world.

He hands you a small box, wrapped in parcel paper and complete with a ribbon made of some kind of knitting thread. You grin, taking it from his hand and carefully untying the bow, delicately pulling the paper apart where it's taped together so as not to rip it. A copy of Romeo and Juliet. Old, tattered, falling apart; well-loved.

"Oh, Coryo, you didn't have to give me anything. That's too sweet." You grin, immediately flipping through the pages despite the dark preventing you from seeing a single word. "Thank you."

"Of course." He says, watching only you as your eyes flick over the pages. What little light falls from the moon is reflected in your eyes, and he wouldn't dare look away.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." You say softly, and at first, he thinks you're talking to yourself until you look up at him. A small, almost shy smile fit perfectly onto your lips.

"You like it?" He asks, the answer obvious even to him.

"I love it."

You were his tribute. Not a friend, certainly not more, but as he reaches through the bars to let his fingers brush over your cheek all rational thought means nothing. He doesn't realize he's staring at your lips until you comment on it.

"Is this why you asked if I have a boyfriend?" You whisper, your natural smile returns, and he's quickly looking anywhere else. Your eyes, your hair, the spot where his fingertips meet your cheekbone just below your hairline. Anywhere else. "Because I know it wasn't on that list of questions."

He's quickly backtracking, dropping his hand. This was wrong and he knew it. "I, uh, Tigris made you some cake. It's not good, but it's the best we could do." He says, redirecting his attention to his bag as he pulls out the small paper bag.

You sit back, blushing furiously. "I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, and it comes across more nervously than you intended.

"Here." He hands it to you, and you gently place the book next to you on the ground so you don't get any crumbs on it. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

And just like that, he's gone.

You're grateful when you see Sejanus coming back with his bag of food and water. It had become some form of a routine, at this point. The citizens of the Capitol weren't allowed to bring you food anymore, he was the only one who did for you now that Coryo was gone, and now that his tribute had escaped as well.

"Sejanus." You smile, standing up as he gets closer.

"Y/N. Holding up okay?" He asks, a sad look behind his tired eyes. He looked almost as tired as you, you were sure, but you hadn't seen a mirror since you left your house before the reaping.

You sigh. "I'm holding up." You answer simply. Sejanus is the only person you feel comfortable being totally honest with, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know he already feels bad for what you're going through. He's the only one outside this cage who kind of understands. "How about you?"

"I'm alright." He shrugs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sandwich for you. You could never get sick of these. "I also have salt, if it needs more of that." He hands you a small bag of table salt alongside it.

"Thank you." You grin, tucking the bag into your pocket incase you needed it. "Any news about Coryo?" You ask hopefully, taking a bite. You already feel your starvation-induced nausea fading away.

"Not really. He's recovering, though." Sejanus answers. "Are you ready for the interview tonight?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You grin. "I was right, I didn't need the book. I already had the whole thing memorized, but it's been so lovely to get to read it again."

"It must be." He nods. "Gives you something to do."

You hum in agreement, looking around at the other tributes. No one is even moving much anymore. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

You look down at your sandwich while you think about how you want to word this. "Is Coryo..." No, that's not it. "I got the feeling that he actually cared for me. Is that true?"

"Coryo has never been one to tell anyone what he's thinking." Sejanus says, entirely unhelpfully. That's not his fault, though. "But if I had to guess, I would say yes."

"I'm just wondering because it's nice to have friends now. Here. At the end." You smile sadly before taking another bite. "And I was worried I had upset him."

"You? No." Sejanus shakes his head. "I don't think you could if you tried."

"Why's that?"

"Well... It's hard to explain. He's always been super focused on school, on the prize, but now, when it matters most, I feel like he's more focused on you and making sure you actually win." He tells you. "But, like I said, he wouldn't talk about it even if I asked him outright."

You nod. "Thank you, Sejanus. For always being honest with me."

"Of course. It's the very least I can do, all things considered."

"Can I ask you for one more favour?" You ask hopefully. "If not I understand, you must be quite busy."

"I have the rest of my life to be busy." He shakes his head. "What do you need?"

"Will you tell Coryo thank you, for me?"

"Yes. Of course." He agrees without hesitation.

"And do you have a pencil and paper?"

Sejanus headed home for a while and then back to the hospital after his visit with you, armed with your note in his pocket to pass on to Coryo. He was hoping he would be awake right now, he had been so on and off the last few days. More grumpy than normal, and Sejanus could tell it was driving him up the wall that he couldn't go see you. But the interviews had already started, so he would get to see you soon- even if it's just through the screen.

"Tigris." He whispers, pulling back the curtain as he sees the familiar girl sitting at his friend's side. She hadn't left her cousin most of the time he'd been bedridden, she was there every time Sejanus checked in.

"Oh, hello." She whispers, smiling at him. "He's still resting, but he's feeling a bit better today I think."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Sejanus agrees, taking the seat next to her. "I went to see Y/N. She's eaten. She doesn't look good, though."

Tigris nods, returning her gaze to her sleeping cousin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. It's not like he needs to see, but she would do it anyway. Just to make sure he wouldn't be annoyed when he woke up. "He's been worrying about her. I can tell."

"She asked me if she did something to upset him. Has he said anything to you?"

"No, nothing." She shakes her head, lip jutting out at the confusing statement. Nothing at all would indicate to her that he was upset with you, but it's entirely possible that stuck in that cage day in and day out you could quickly become paranoid about who you could trust.

"Okay, good. That's what I told her anyway." He tries to be quiet as he speaks, but the whispering wakes his friend anyway.

Coryo's eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes landing on the two of them sitting in front of him.

"Coryo," Tigris says softly, a small, worried smile on her face.

"Y/N?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep. "Is she-"

"She's alive," Tigris promises, gently rubbing his arm, landing her hand on his and squeezing it gently.

"Is she hurt?"

"Not badly." Sejanus shakes his head. "A few decent cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay. I brought her some antibiotics the other day so nothing will get infected." You won't be okay, they both know that, but you certainly wouldn't be dying from the minor injuries you sustained in the rebel bombing.

He nods, slightly, trying to sit up. "How long was I sleeping? What did I miss?"

"Another tribute died from injuries," Sejanus replies. "Everyone is still scared. No one will go see them anymore, I haven't seen any of the other mentors there either. But I've been feeding her. She's okay."

Coryo nods, wincing at the pain in his back as he moves. The burn was bad, but apparently, it was healing well.

"Marcus is still missing. I haven't heard anything about him. They're hunting him but I still think he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Coryo asks, rubbing his head with his free hand, Tigris still holding his other one. "They're still going ahead with the games?"

Sejanus just slightly shakes his head, looking away. Coryo knows that that is a yes.

"Oh no... Y/N.... She could've run," He mumbles. "But she saved me."

"I tried to convince her to. I did." Sejanus reminds him. "She wouldn't budge."

All heads turn as Lucky's voice on the TV catches their attention. "And now, our final tribute. I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District Twelve, Y/N Y/L/N. Come on out here!"

Lucretius motions for you to step out onto the stage and you do, gently placing the book and the blanket you had brought with you on the floor in a neat pile before joining him.

"Lucretius." You smile. "It's good to see you." You're nervous in front of so many people, the audience in front of you is much larger than the small one you spoke in front of at the reaping, and being in front of a camera without Coryo by your side made you antsy.

"You as well, Darling. Now, I was told you had something you wanted to do for us so I'll just leave you to that. Charm us! Remember, the world is watching." He smiles, gently patting your shoulder before walking just out of view of the cameras. His statement was far from reassuring.

"Uhm..." You stare out at the audience, and suddenly you're scared you've forgotten the entire thing. You had to do well. For Coryo and his prize. He needed this. "I've become aware that not many people know this play." You chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness behind it. "But Romeo and Juliet has always held a special place in my heart and I want to share that with the world, before I go."

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You wonder if Coryo is watching. He's not here, you're sure of that, but you do hope he gets to see. And he does.

He stands up as soon as your face first appears on the screen, declining help from both Tigris and Sejanus as he limps over to the TV, cranking up the volume. Your fate depends on this, he knows it, but he can't look past the blue tint under your eyes and the bruises that litter almost every part of your exposed skin. The cuts are what get him the most. Your knuckles are cleaned up, mostly, but red and irritated as you twist your hands together nervously in front of you. Same with the crude black stitches on your upper arm. Irritated, neglected by professionals, but at least it wasn't serious.

"Come on... You can do it." He mumbles mostly to himself, and Tigris reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the three of them watch.

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Immediately, he is confused. He expected to be, of course, but he could also tell as soon as you started reciting it, after the first line, your confidence was coming back to you. This play was your safe space.

"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet." You look out at the silent audience as you speak, a smile forming on your lips. They're listening. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."

Coryo is wishing you had explained more to him about what this play is about. "What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name." He should have asked. Why didn't he ask? You told him yourself that you could talk about it for hours. Why didn't he take advantage of that when he had the chance?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title." A rose. Of course a rose, was this for him? He longed to understand it better as he watched the donations tracker tick up and up toward the thousands.

"Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee," You take a deep breath for the first time since you started speaking. "Take all myself."

It was a beat or two before the audience clued in that you were done, and then the cheers started. A standing ovation, people wiping their eyes and clapping for you like you had changed their lives.

"Wow! Now wasn't that something, everyone!" Lucky laughs, coming back into the frame of Coryo's view from the camera. Tigris was in tears. The continual uptick of the donations counter was reassuring to him. As you smiled, cheeks flushing red. "The donations are just flooding in with a record high! That must feel good."

"Thank you, it does." You nod at Lucky, trying to place all your focus on him so you don't get too embarrassed in front of the crowd. At least you knew Coryo would be pleased. If you understood his prize situation as well as you thought you did, this was very good for him. "I just want to make my family and my mentor proud."

"You have a real talent. It's such a shame." The host says to you and you laugh awkwardly.

"Well, everyone loves something. I just loved books."

You continually referring to yourself in the past tense makes Coryo want to puke, looking away from the screen only briefly to take in the other nurses and patients watching too.

"We have just a few moments left, but I need to know, what is that about?"

"Oh! Well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy." You explain, back to yourself again. "It's about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. So, what Juliet was talking about, to put it very simply because I could go on and on about this, was that she loved Romeo for who he was- not just his name or his family. It didn't matter to her that they came from different places. She loves him anyway, and if he couldn't let go of his family, she would give up her own life for him."

Coryo's eyes widen. So it was about him. He can't help the tug on his lips that threatens to form a smile.

"Alrighty then, that's very sweet." Lucky replies. "Now, you said it's a tragedy. What is so tragic about a love story?"

"Well," You chuckle nervously. "They both die at the end."

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination, @fantasticchaosthing, @coolcatyarb, @yokolesbianism, @becauseseaotters, @KimmiB13

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #tbosas fic #hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfiction #thg series #thg movies #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top

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itsbuckytm · 7 days

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Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister

Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.

ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.

word count; 6ks.

tag list ; @figurantedefilme

“Father, hasn’t come back.”

Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction.

Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.

“Hawkins.”

Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.

Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"

"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."

And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.

"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.

"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.

"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."

The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.

"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..."

"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.

"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"

Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off.

"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.

"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.

"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."

The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.

"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.

"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."

Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.

"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"

Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.

"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."

"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."

"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"

Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.

"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.

"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance.

"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?"

Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"

You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"

"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."

An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.

Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.

Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.

Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.

Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow.

"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.

"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.

"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.

Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.

"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.

Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.

"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.

He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"

A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."

"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"

"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams.

"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.

Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.

The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.

His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."

He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.

Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."

You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.

"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."

You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.

The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.

After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”

Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.

Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”

"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.

"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.

"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.

"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."

"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.

"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.

"I am too," he said.

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hwanchaesong · 2 months

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Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels

Synopsis: Love portrayed in different kinds of ways and worlds.

🥀 Heeseung: Sanctuary (Love Epiphany)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

"Will you believe me if I told you that you're my whole sky? Dazzling like the orange sun, prettier than the sinking sunset over the glistening cerulean sea. You are my calm during the night. Will you believe me if I said that from the start to finish, you're the one I've prayed for?"

Preview

🌌 Jay: Chatoyant (Soulmate)

genre: angst, fluff, smut

"Every waking day, I asked the sun to look after your well being. Every sleepless night, I wished for the moon to let you be safe. I implored the whole universe to guide you back to me. Here, in my arms. So I could marry you like I always promised. So you could love me like how I deserve it."

Preview

🪐Jake: Idyllic (Mutual Pining)

genre: fluff, angst, smut

"How many times do I stumble down this dead end? How many times should I meet all these wrong people just to meet the right, destined one? Tell me, how long should I tolerate more of this suffering? When will I be able to leave this hell hole? When the sweet happiness finally has turned into an ugly resentment?"

Preview

❄️ Sunghoon: Quintessence (Forbidden Love)

genre: angst, smut, fluff

"Do my words mean nothing to you unless they are on an old paper, written metaphorically? Are any of my sentences and paragraphs trash just because they don't rhyme poetically? Then, what if we let the stars align tonight, by chance, by fate, by destinies and against all odds, will you allow me to enter your life?"

Preview

🤍 Sunoo: Labyrinth (Unexpected Love)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

"These pretty faces won't be the reason why I'll let myself fall in love again. I will not accept someone who brings an unreasonably expensive bouquet only during special occasions. I can't make any promises anymore, not in a tranquil and joyful way. Please forgive me, because if I open my heart again, I don't think I will be ready for it to bleed until I die."

Preview

🍀 Jungwon: Ephemeral (Second Chances)

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."

Preview

Read here

🪷 Riki: Paradox (Enemies to Lovers)

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

"No, not once did I question the moment where I felt like drowning when you decided to walk the other way, turning your back on me. Surprise was the last emotion I felt when someone took my spot once I'm out of the picture. The only thing that is wrong here is me. I made the mistake of asking you the truth, then choosing to believe the untrue."

Preview

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a/n: again, another one that's in my drafts for so long, i had to post this and add to the masterlist ig. feel free to message, send an ask, or comment under this post if you want to be added to the taglist :3

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paper-daisy · 2 months

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Like many of us I'm doing a TWD rewatch, looking for all those pre-relationship moments, and a great little one in 4x01 is after Michonne arrives back at the prison -- there's a moment where Daryl tells her "Glad to see you're in one piece." HOWEVER, when he says that he turns to look directly at Rick. Who in turn quickly looks away, almost bashful.

You can just imagine what Daryl had to put up with, with Rick in those early days. So I had to fic it.

Rick never said the words aloud. He never outright said, "I'm worried about Michonne. I hope she's okay. I hope she comes back." He was never that obvious. But to someone like Daryl, a man naturally of few words himself, it was clear as day that their fearless leader was never fully relaxed whenever that smartass/badass - who was more than capable of taking care of herself - wasn't safely tucked away behind their walls.

But what Rick would say when she was gone was - "There was a herd moving south, right?" Where Michonne had last gone hung unspoken between them. And when Daryl answered Yeah, Rick would just place his hands on his hips and nod, jaw tight, as he scanned the perimeter of the compound as if waiting for someone to magically appear.

He would say - "There's a lot more bandits out there, roaming in packs. Isn't that what you said?" A grunt and a shrug from Daryl, and Rick would nod like they'd just had a conversation and go back to his farming, digging the shovel into the dirt with a bit more force than necessary, making a point to not look at the fence. They hadn't heard from Michonne in two weeks.

He would say - "Nights are getting cold," while standing outside at the communal kitchen, plate in hand, his gaze always drawn to the barely visable fence line. Daryl had hummed in agreement, fighting the urge to tell him that Michonne should be fine as she had pilfered his poncho, something Rick already knew.

And on one strange occasion he said, "Do you think we should get some more ... art? In here?"

This had stopped Daryl in his tracks. "What?"

Rick shrugged, perhaps a little sheepishly, but continued. "We have a library, potted flowers, even some toys and things for the kids. This is our home now. Thought ... maybe it could use a bit of ... brightening?"

Daryl just starred blankly. "You want me to, what? Bring back pictures?"

For a moment it looked as if Rick was about to finally say what was actually on his mind, before he instead gave a rueful smile and waved his hand in the air as if to dispel the conversation. "Nah, nah, never mind. It was just a thought."

He walked away, leaving an utterly perplexed Daryl behind who simply shrugged and went on his own way. It was only later that day as he passed by Michonne's empty cell did his eyes fall upon that weird colourful cat thing, the one that looked like it was about to start a fight. It was such a stupid, useless thing but Daryl remembered how Michonne had presented it to him with an air of triumph, as if it was the most gorgeous thing in the world. He didn't get it.

Did Rick really think that if he made the place more art-filled, Michonne might want to hang around longer? he wondered, then immediately dismissed the idea. Well, clearly not because he gave up before he started. Like with other things.

Only once had Daryl said the unsaid thing.

Almost everyone was asleep. Well, Carl was hid under his blankets reading comics and there were low conversational sounds coming from some darkened cell, but for the most part things were quiet.

And they were kept quiet by an exhausted Rick, pacing back and forth with a fussy Judith, bouncing her non-stop so her cries wouldn't awaken the entire community. He'd nodded to Daryl, who in turn took a moment to ask if he needed help putting Judith to sleep tonight.

"No, thankyou" said Rick tiredly. "I think she's pretty much worn herself out by now. Should be sound asleep soon."

"You too."

Rick sighed. "Yeah. I just ..." He shifted Judith a little, "Even when I do get to bed, I can't seem to stop thinking. Thinking of plans for the future, for the people we have in here. The people we bring in. How to protect everyone inside these walls. Keep our people safe despite ... well, despite everything." Rick looked at Daryl as if he might have the answers to those questions he hadn't quite asked.

All he could do was shrug. "We just try. Trust that we all know what we're doing. Lookout for everyone here. Not much more we can do, is there? Future don't care about anyone's plans."

Rick didn't look totally reassured, but he still smiled slightly as Daryl's efforts. "Yeah. I just worry, is all."

"I know." And as Daryl passed by he gripped Rick's shoulder and muttered, "Shouldn't worry so much. Michonne'll be back, all in one piece. You'll see."

And the man had the audacity to look confused, stuttering out, "Yeah, I know that, but - but I wasn't talking about Michonne, specifically. I'm not worried about her. She can take care of herself, I know that, and she always comes back, it's just ... with everything ..."

As he trailed off Daryl eyed Rick critically for a moment. He really thinks he's selling it, he thought, before giving a soft grunt that was akin to laughter and wandering off to bed, leaving a somewhat disconcerted Rick behind, gently bouncing a sleeping Judith.

And the very next day who should come riding through the gates but one Michonne, smiling, baring gifts and all in one piece, as Daryl made sure to point out to Rick, who's ears suddenly went bright red as if Michonne might somehow be able to figure out that they'd been taking about her just that night before.

But she didn't notice. She was too caught up in her almost obsessive search for the Governor and already planning her next venture out, unaware of Rick's barely suppressed disappointment or of the sigh that Daryl kept clenched behind his teeth as he tried to subtly talk her out of another long run. It wasn't her who was stuck with Rick and his wordless pining.

Because it was pining, even if he never said nothing. If they were in school Daryl might've suggested he pass her a note.

When she had quickly offered to go back out again with the rest of the scavenging party - even though, as Carl had said wistfully, she'd just got back - and Daryl could do nothing more than give Rick a comforting pat, grimacing slightly as the man's expression said exactly the same thing his son had vocalised.

God, this was going to wear thin soon.

Ah well. Wasn't like they had TV anymore.

#the walking dead #richonne #rick grimes #michonne grimes #daryl dixon #Heehee #just a spurt of fanfic on tumblr - haven't done that for a while. :)

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cuteskunkz · 1 month

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╭──────────.★..─╮

One Night With You

~ Part 3 ~

╰─..★.──────────╯

(Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Summary~ The night starts to heat up between you and Mike after a few shots. 1.7k word count

Read part 1 & part 2 for context <3

Tags~ SMUTTT, pet names, olderbf! Mike (you're 20, he's 28), fem reader, public-ish sex, dominant Mike, submissive reader, creampie, drinking

Note~ I wrote this is a day!!???!!! Big shout out to my coworker Malachi who helped me with the direction of this fic! Heads up, I did minimal proofreading on this hoe bc it's deadass 3am and I have to be up in 5 hours for work (send help). I'm debating if I want to continue with this story so if you want me to update lemme know :33

⊱✿⊰

Mike signals over to the bartender to bring out more shots, holding up four fingers. He nods at him as he drops off the drinks. "How 'bout two more, hm? Since you're soo confident..." he teases, a hint of competitiveness in his voice.

You furrow your brows with determination, "Fine! Don't expect me to drag you home when you black out though!"

"You actually think 3 shots are gonna fuck me up that bad? You're hilarious" he chuckles as he tilts his glass towards you. You take the shots in unison and glare at each other, scanning for any reactions to the alcohol.

Mike hiccups finally giving you the opportunity to pester him. "Aww is it too much for you? Should we slow down?" you assert in a sarcastic and flirtatious voice.

He flutters his eyes trying his best to adjust to the intoxication, "You won't be laughing when I say that to you later tonight..." Mike says while holding back a laugh

You punch him in the arm and giggle, "Oh yeah?" You gulp back your third shot, immediately feeling the sense of relaxation hit. It's like all your problems and worries fade away into nothingness when you drink. You meet Mike's gaze, wanting to hear more about him. "So... what's up with you lately? If you're going to take me out, the least you can do is tell me a few of your secrets."

"I mean, life's been rough lately but... when isn't it, Y'know? It's one always one thing after another." You can hear the frustration in his voice as he swirls around his glass, avoiding eye contact. Mike looks around the bar and then down at your hands.

"Yeah... I know. My fucking job blows and all I want to do is just- start fresh... no more late nights working my ass off just to miss rent again." The drunken state you're in is allowing your emotions to spill out with no hesitation.

"Believe me I'm in the same boat. I mean..." he sighs and rubs his temples. "I work as security for an abandoned pizzeria like....it's fucking abandoned! What am I actually securing dude!" Mike buries his face in his hands, feeling insane for working such a dead end job. "There's people my age with degrees and real accomplishments under their belt and what am I doing? Wasting my life days at a time for shit hours and pay."

You grab his hand and hold it tight. "Mike... I'm literally a stripper... I'm in no place to judge" you say in an attempt to lighten the mood and smile at him. "We do what we do for a reason, right? To keep a roof over our heads... and to go out drinking!" He chuckles at your words and takes a deep breath.

"Yeah...." Mike grips your hand tighter and wets his lips before speaking, "You wanna take a walk?"

"Sure! Fresh air won't hurt." He holds your hand to help you out of the booth and guides you to the parking lot. With it being a small town it, isn't so crowded out. Cars occasionally pass by as the warm breeze cools you both down. You look up at the night sky, amazed by the twinkling stars. Mike stares at you longingly and smirks. He can't think back to the last time a girl made him feel the way he does right now

"Isn't it so beautiful, Mike?" you say while gazing at the stars.

"Yeah.... definitely" he responds still taking in your features. His chest tightens and thoughts begin to race in his head. Mike didn't want to ruin the moment by taking things too fast but god did you look breathtaking right now. "So beautiful..."

You peer down at him and notice he hadn't looked up once and was fully referring to you. This causes a pink color to rush across your cheeks and you move closer to him. He caresses your cheek and plays with a strand of your hair. "Y-you... you don't have a boyfriend, right?"

You seductively respond back at him, "You want to change that, sir?" Mike swiftly wraps his hand around the back of your neck to bring you in to meet his lips. His kiss is hungry for more, clearly desperate for your embrace. He's completely given up on taking it slow.

You pull away and look up at him, your eyes glassy from the drinks. The lip gloss you wore transferred onto his lips. "You sure about this? I know we were drinking and I don't want-"

"Mike..." you roll your eyes at him, wanting him to take control.

"I just don't want to be too rough on you... or ruin my chance with you." he says in a low voice.

"All that flirting earlier and you're backing out now? Don't you want to..." you pout at him playfully, "teach me a lesson for going out with strangers?" A little giggle escapes you when suddenly you're grabbed by the wrist and dragged to the alley next to the bar.

"Do you want this? Yes or no. No bullshit, tell me now." he exclaims as you're backed up against the wall, him towering over you.

"Y-yes sir I do..."

He reaches his hand up your skirt and feels up and down your lacy panties. "You wore these for me, hm?"

"Y-yeah I did... Do you like them?"

"Of course I do sweetheart. Very kind of you to do that for me" He starts pulling them to the side, eager to feel your arousal. He slips his finger in to rub small circles with your wetness. "All that from some kisses? What an eager little girl, so adorable"

"I really like you- that's all!" You're not sure why Mike is making you feel this shy and bashful. You'd like to think you're very dominating towards men due to your profession but he's proving this to be false very quickly.

He grabs you by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes and speaks. "Promise me that if at any point you feel uncomfortable or want to stop, you'll tell me...okay?"

You mumble this promise over and over again while feeling up on him through his jeans, your excitement for what's to come literally dripping out of you.

"That's a good girl. You're an amazing listener, do you know that? Keep it up, kiddo" he teases. He turns you around to face the brick wall and pushes your skirt up. "You ready for me?"

You nod your head quickly, overcome with passion.

"Use your words, pretty girl. You can do it."

"Yes... I'm ready, I promise!"

"Yes, who?" Mike says in a commanding manner.

"Yes, sir..." Your legs tremble uncontrollably and your breath accelerates, something about the thrill of possibly being caught is turning up the heat.

He slowly pushes into you, letting you adjust to his cock. "Theeere we go... How does that feel, babygirl?" He bottoms out, his tip kissing your cervix ever so slightly.

"It's g-good sir... feels good" The euphoria from the shots and his length are sure to collaborate with each other in your body.

Mike starts to thrust slowly, using your hips as leverage. Small whimpers and moans slip out of you. "I bet it does... You're so tight around me... I seriously don't know how you're not taken already... A pretty girl with a tight pussy like this should be fuckin' married by now."

He pounds into your cunt harder almost as if he's mad at you for being single. The sound of skin on skin fills the dark alley. Your eyes roll backwards when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, pushing you closer to the edge of breaking. "Sir p-please... can't go for much longer... S'too much" you beg.

"You can take more, I know you can. Hang in there for me, okay? He says this in such a genuine way, it's only making you fall for him more. You're really hoping this isn't a one night stand situation.

He grunts and moves his hands around your neck, putting you into pretty much a headlock. His cock throbs violently in you, threatening to release soon. "Fuuckk I needed this..." You arch your back against him allowing for your g-spot to be avoided as to not cum quickly.

He instantly noticed this shift and pulls you back up, "You wanted this, don't run now..." There's a hint of condescension in his words. You moan loudly when he juts harshly into your poor pussy, leaking with fervor.

"Can you stay quiet for me baby? Just a little longer, okay? We can't have people finding us out here, right?"

"B-but sir-"

"No buts princess... That's a direction. What happened to my good little listener?"

You pout and bite your lip to hold in the moans begging to topple out of you. Only small whimpers and whines allowed you remind yourself mentally as he continues on. He purposely rubs on your spot with his thick cock and sneaks a hand down to toy with your swollen clit, guaranteeing to make you cum any second.

"M'gonna... gonna cum... Mike please!!!"

"Cum on my cock like a good girl, baby. You deserve it after all..." You quiver and whimper as you reach your limit, your pussy clenching down onto his member. You squirt from the stimulation, dripping down on your legs and leaving a wet spot on his jeans. Mike's thrusts get sloppier and his moans get heavier simultaneously.

"Y-you're on the pill, r-right?" You nod aggressively with his hand over your mouth to block your screams of pleasure. "G-good... gonna ffuckin' cum inside- shit... fucccckk...." He pumps all his cum into you, whining into your ear. He keeps his cock stuffed inside your hole so he can catch his breath.

"You did very very well baby.... I'm proud of you" he says while stroking your hair. When he pulls out, little drips of cum leak down your thighs. Mike pulls your panties back into place and pats you on the head. "Ready to head home, little one?"

You turn around to face him and smile from being fully fucked out and cockdrunk. "Cooould I... come home with you maybe?"

⊱✿⊰

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ravieisunhinged · 4 months

Text

Tell Me

Gale x F!Tav!Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Content Warning: Fluff, Smut

Summary: You've been down bad for Gale for weeks, ever since you met the man. Now the others in your camp start to notice, and one day Gale overhears a conversation you're having with Karlach about him.

As you open your eyes, you see Gale reading. Quickly, your turn your head to avoid him seeing your face flushed. Unfortunately, someone else notices.

"You have the hots for Gale, huh?" Karlach asks you.

"Shut- I do not." You scoff.

"The pink on your cheeks say differently." She replies.

"Okay, maybe I lied." You say, bringing your hands to your face.

"Knew it." She laughs.

"But don't tell anyone, for the love of god." You tell her.

"Fine fine, but I do suggest you should make a move, he's staring at you." She says.

"Huh-" You say, looking the other way. Gale meets your gaze, and you quickly look away.

"I told ya, make a move." She suggests.

"Noooo," You say.

"Yesssss," She teases you.

Little did you know, Gale could hear everything. He was now well aware of how down bad you were for him. The man felt the same way though, in fact he was in love with you.

Throughout the day, he kept stealing glances at you, and it made you suspicious. You were currently on your way to Baldur’s Gate, but as the day went on, everyone got exhausted. Finally deciding to call it a day, you all set up camp.

As everyone went to bed (or so you thought), you went down to the forest so you could be alone with your thoughts. Gale was still awake though. He saw you leaving, so he decided to slowly follow you.

It was dark, but you decided to sit on the grass, and look at the stars.

As he saw you admiring the sky, he couldn't help but watch. So, when he finally speaks up, you were taken aback.

"It's pretty tonight, isn't it?"

Turning your head, you see Gale.

"Very. What are you doing up?" You ask him.

"I could ask you the same thing." He says, walking towards you, and sitting down next to you.

"Just thinking." You reply.

"About me?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Huh? Why do you say that?" You ask.

"I couldn't help but overhear a certain conversation this morning, concerning me." He chuckles.

"Dear lord, I'm going to die now." You groan, putting a hand over your face.

"No you're not. Tell me. Is it true?" He asks.

Sighing, you put your hand down. "Yes." You say quietly.

"I didn't quite hear that." He says.

"I said yes." You answer, more louder this time.

"Good, because I like you too. No, I'm in love with you, actually." He replies.

"I'm glad to hear that." You smile, cheeks flushing to a pink color.

He turns his head to get a better look at you, then he kisses you. You kiss him back, placing a hand on his jaw.

Things get heated, then Gale pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “You know, we are the only ones awake. If you know what I’m getting at.”

“I do.” You smirk, then push him so he’s laying down on the grass. Gale looks at you, and you go to straddle his lap.

You kiss him again, and he places his hands on your hips. As you're both making out, you start moving your hips so you're grinding on his lap.

He slides his hands under your shirt, and you shiver from how cold they are.

"Are you alright?" He asks, pulling away.

"I'm fine, you're just cold." You chuckle.

He smirks and takes this opportunity to flip you over, so now you're the one laying on the grass.

"I see what you did there." You say.

"That, I did. Now," He continues, running his fingers over your jaw.

You look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Are you sure you want this?" He finally asks you.

"Please. I've been wanting this since we met." You reply.

After you say that, he immediately kisses you. He pins your arms above your head, and starts kissing down your neck.

When he starts to kiss down your body, he removes your clothes.

“You’re so perfect,” He breathes out.

You chuckle. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

As he gets to your underwear, he grins, then takes them off with his teeth.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” You say.

“Don’t die on me now.” He chuckles.

“I won’t, now hurry up.” You reply.

“As you wish, my lady.” He says before continuing. He runs his fingers through your folds, and groans deeply when he realizes you are soaked.

“By the nine hells. Damn it Gale, just fuck me already.” You demand.

“You sure about that?” He asks.

“Please.” You beg.

He decides he’s done teasing you, and he takes his clothes off. Hovering over you, he leaves kisses on your neck before sinking into you.

His hands grip your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. Worth it. You’re biting your lip to try and contain any noises that could possibly leave your mouth, so the others don’t hear.

As he pulls out and slams back into you, a groan accidentally leaves your lips. “Fuck,” You breathe out. When you feel like you’re close to being able to cum, you slide your hand down to rub your clit. Only for Gale to slap it away and do it himself.

“That’s my job.” He says. You clench around him as you feel his fingers.

“Shitshitshitshit-“ You shout as you cum around him. He squeezes his eyes shut and follows shortly after. Then he rests himself on top of you, your fingers stroking his hair.

When he finally looks up at you, he smiles. “So, you’re in love with me too, huh?”

You snort. “Of course I am, you dork.”

“Good. We’re doing that again, by the way.” He says.

“I’m not complaining.” You reply.

You both relax for a little longer, then go for a second round…only to wake the others up with your moans.

#bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios smut #gale x tav #Gale x reader #bg3 gale

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year

Text

My You-niverse: Duke Leto Atreides

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Series Masterlist

You're staring out the window when a woman's voice broke your trance, "I'm surprised you're still here."

You turn to see a woman in elegant, yet casual wear. Jessica, your mind clicks, Lady Jessica. Your husband's concubine and your dear friend. Mother to your step-son, Paul.

You completely face her, "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?"

"My time here.," you answer, but Jessica looks at you knowingly. You chuckle, "What?"

"Is something wrong?"

You shake your head, "No, should there be?"

"You seem different," she walks over to you and grabs your hand, "Stardust, whatever it is, you know you can confide in me, always."

You nod, "I know, thank you. It's just..." you're conflicted. The mind, is at war right now. The memories of the 'original' you and this you are clashing. You're seeing flashes from this universe, the one before that. You're seeing Marc, Richard, Laurent, all of these different versions of your husband. Your head is pounding and you start feeling dizzy.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Jessica yells out as she catches your falling form. Before things fade to black, you hear, "CALL THE DUKE! NOW!"

________________________________________________________

"A prison?!" Steve exclaims in surprise, "Y/N's a prisoner in this universe?"

"Seems so," Stephen Strange answers as your necklace glows bright, "This is the brightest I've seen this glow." After discovering the spell to help track you down, him, Steven, and America had travelled to five other universe, such as one where Marc was a homicidal drifter and another where he was a Russian security guard. It was very...odd, for Marc and Steven to see themselves as such.

"So this is a good sign right?" America asks, "Because it's glowing so bright, that means the next universe or so, we'll find her, right?"

"Here's hoping so," Stephen leads them further into a forest near the prison, "Alright, kid. Go ahead."

For the past few universes, Stephen has been transporting them. America, still guilty for losing you, had been apprehensive about using her powers. It took a lot to bring her confidence back. Thankfully, Marc and Steven didn't blame her at all for losing you. A lot of her guilt had washed away, but she still felt bad.

She steps forward and gulps. She's mentally hyping herself up. With a deep breath, she pushes her palm out and a portal the shape of a star appears.

Stephen gives her a proud nod, "Good." He proceeds to walk through the portal with Steven following behind and then America after them.

When they walk through, they're standing on a grassy cliff. The sky is gloomy and huge waves are crashing against the cliff.

Your necklace is hot and bright in Stephen's hand, "She's here." He states, "We just need to find her. Remember to stay vigilant and don't run into our dopplegangers."

America salutes, "Aye aye, Doc!"

Steven nods, "Yeah, alright."

_____________________________________________

You're sitting on a picnic blanket in Potters Field Park with the perfect view of the Tower Bridge and River Thames. The sun is shining on you, a slight breeze going by. You're focused on the book in your lap.

Marc lays beside you on his side, his arm propping his head up. He stares at you with so much fondness in his eyes while you read.

"You're distracting me," you simply state, eyes not moving from the book.

"What? Can I not stare lovingly at my wife?" he asks with a smirk.

You look up from your book and he's still smiling at you. You place your bookmark in between the pages of where you left off and shut the book. You poke Marc's shoulder and he falls onto his back. You proceed to lay down with him, taking your place in his arms, right where you belong.

The both of you lay in silence, cherishing the warmth of each other and the ambiance of London around you.

You feel him kiss your head, "Love you, baby."

You smile and curl into him more, "Love you too."

Your eyes snap open. You're confused and head still hurts . The lights in your bedroom are low, but you hear the crackling of a fire ablaze. You take a quick inhale as you sit up, alerting the others around the room.

"Stardust," Leto says in relief as he rushes from his chair, Jessica sitting beside him.

"What happened?" you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"We were talking in the training room. Something seemed off about you and then you just fainted," Jessica answers.

"If you weren't feeling well, you shouldn't have trained with me. You should've told me," Leto looked slightly upset with you, but mainly concerned.

"No, no, I was feeling fine. I..Who's Marc?"

Leto's brows furrow, "Who?"

"Marc. I-I had this dream, but it didn't feel like a dream. Like a memory. Leto, it was you, but not at the same time. Same face, but you went by Marc and-and we weren't here in Caladan. We were...I'm not sure where we were, but you were there."

Leto looks at Jessica with confusion and concern. She shakes her head in response to his silent question, but then speaks, "I will seek council with the Reverend Mother Superior. Perhaps she might know what's going on."

You hold your head, trying to grasp what's happening. In your mind, you're still getting glimpses. You see yourself with Leto here, your marriage that occurred for political gain, but then grew into genuine love. You see yourself spending time with Jessica, allowing yourself to not be jealous of the relationship she has with Leto. You see Paul training with you and Duncan.

But then in slips, other versions of Leto. One where he's in some sort of masked costume, another where he's bald with a beard and waring a sweaty tank top. Another where he's wearing some sort of tactical vest.

"What is happening to me?" you ask to no one in particular, but Leto answers.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out," he reaches out and takes your hand. It feels comforting, his callous hands in yours.

__________________________________

"Well...that went well," Steven snarks as him, Stephen, and America are lead towards some sort of throne room. A woman stands at the forefront with a questioning look on her face.

"Who are you and what brings you to our planet?"

"Ah, so not only are we in a different universe but a different planet, splendid," Steven retorted and Stephen shot him with a glare, "Sorry," he mumbles and looks down.

"Marc?" the woman asks, which causes Steven to look up in surprise.

"Did you just say Marc?" he asks.

"Are you Marc?" she asks skeptically.

"Uh, well, yes, but also no. I-It's a little complicated, but, I-er-"he takes a sharp inhale and stares for a bit, when he comes back to, his demeanor is different.

"I'm Marc. How do you know my name?"

"The lady of the House, Y/N Atreides, she mentioned your name earlier. Why?"

"If I may-" Stephen stepped forward but Gurney immediately stuck his arm out.

The woman held up her hand, "It's alright, Gurney. I sense these people aren't here to harm us."

"Lady Jessica-" the burley man's words halt as Jessica gives him a look. He lets out a disgruntled sound before dropping his arm and taking a step back.

"Y/N, she's here?" Stephen asks.

"Yes, but she's in no condition to speak right now. She's resting."

"We need to see her," Marc demands.

"Marc-"

"No! We've spent all this time looking for her and she's finally here! We can take her back with us!"

"Calm down-"

"I want my wife back, Stephen!"

The woman holds up her hand again, "I will bring you to Y/N, however, I need some answers before you do."

________________________

Leto had moved to join you in bed. He lays beside you and you're resting your head on his now bare chest. He's gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You feel at peace, that is, until the door opens to reveal Jessica.

The both of you sit up, "What did the Reverend Mother say?" you ask.

"I didn't speak to her yet. We had some unexpected guests." she steps to the side and in runs America with Marc and Stephen behind her.

"Y/N!"

Marc pauses as he sees his doppleganger with longer hair, fuller beard, but the same cautious expression he gives when he's around strangers.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Marc's attention goes back to you, "Hi, baby," he says in relief and goes over to you, "We're to take you home."

"You're Marc. You were in my dream."

"Baby, that wasn't a dream. It was a memory. This isn't your universe. This isn't your home." he reaches out and places his hand on yours, "We're your home."

You pull back your hand, "No, you're not. This is my home. You're-You're just a figment of my imagination. Or-Or I'm still asleep!"

Marc looks at Stephen, "What's happening?"

"I was afraid this was going to happen."

"What was going to happen?" Marc stands and approaches the sorcerer, "What didn't you tell us?"

"Will all of the universes she'd been dragged to, her mind, her memories, they're getting jumbled. The ones from our universe and the others, she's now struggling with her other selves."

Leto slips out of bed and goes to Jessica, concern written all over him, "What did you do?"

"Nothing, my love, I, promise. These people...they come from another universe and it seems that Y/N," she gestures to you, who is now listening to America, "is from their universe."

"And what, we just let them take her from us?" Leto asks with hostility.

"I've already called for the Reverend Mother. Hopefully she will be able to-"

"NO! I WON'T GO WITH YOU!" you're yelling. Leto immediately pushes past Marc and America who seem to be pleading with you.

"Leave her alone!"

Marc stands chest to chest with his doppleganer, "Listen, she doesn't belong here. She belongs back with us in our universe. She's my wife!"

"You need to leave."

"Or what?"

"Or I make you leave."

Marc and Leto glare eat each other, one trying to best the other. However, their attention goes back to you when you speak, "Wait, let me see that." you point to the necklace in Stephen's hand.

Marc grabs it and holds it out to you, "I gave this to you for our anniversary. Whenever we went on missions, you asked me to hold it because you didn't trust yourself to keep it safe."

He places the necklace in your hand and a burst of white light blasts out of the pendant, blinding you and everyone else in the room.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #duke leto x reader #duke leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x reader #F!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #marvel au #dune fic #marvel fanfiction

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ghostedcas · 10 months

Note

hello! i read your family fic and absolutely loved it with all my heart<3333 i was wondering if you could write more about the riley family :33

maybe they’re celebrating someone in the family’s birthday! your pick on who it is :D

but i would love to see what you do with this<3333

you ask for birthday and i raise you:

soldier returning home for his children's birthday🥰

i hope you enjoy !! <3

simon "ghost" riley x mom!reader/children!ocs

word count: 1433

warnings: pure pure fluff, tears of joy, so so so so much crying from reader and the 17 year old son (bc men are allowed to be vulnerable too <3)

a/n: simon returing from a mission early for the twins' fourth birthday?? i think yes :) idk why but this is immediately what came to mind when i read this request. this fic takes place just before the riley family vacation to soap's beach house <3 in my mind it's like early july

a/n 2.0: also we officially have names for the riley kids. bug, matthew, lyla and luka <3

--------

"mandy it's not his fault he can't be here, he's literally in a another country fighting a war right now. i'm sure he's just as heartbroken about it as the rest of us." you sighed to your sister in law.

it was the twins' fourth birthday, you and your sister's wife mandy, were in the kitchen prepping the food for their birthday party in 20 minutes.

"i don't know, i just think he should've asked for the time off. he knows when his kids' birthdays are." the blonde said as she cut up some strawberries.

"he can't just request time off in his job. his job isn't like a 9-5 mandy."

you were starting to get frustrated with the conversation so you just decided to change the topic and turn the attention towards the stars of the day, the twins.

"anyhow, the twins are going to wake up from their nap any minute now so i'm gonna go upstairs and shower really quick before i lose the opportunity."

"alright, i'll start bringing the food and games outside."

"okay, bug and matthew should be out there setting up the tables and decorations so ask them for help if you need it. when is erin coming back again?"

"she said she'd be back just after the party started, she needs to go pick up the rest of lyla and luka's gifts."

"gifts? plural? mandy, you two already brought like four seperate bags of gifts! they're four they don't need this much." you replied with a laugh, disbelief overtaking you as mandy reveals her and your sister were absolutely spoiling your children.

"they deserve it! plus, i promise, you'll like this last part she's getting too. now go! go! get your shower."

"god, you two are insufferable." you mutter, mostly to yourself, with a slight laugh as you walk up the stairs to get to your room and take a quick shower.

almost immediately after you step out of the shower and wrap a towel around yourself, the cries of one of the twins rang through the house, their cries triggering the cries from their twin. you let out a soft sigh and dried yourself off as quickly as possible and slipped on your bathrobe, making your way to the twins' room.

"awake from your nap my darlings?" you say softly as you enter their room and approach their separate cribs.

lifting luka from his crib first, you hold him out for a moment and then bring him close, pressed to your chest.

"happy birthday, my sweet pumpkin." you say softly, rocking the crying infant whose cries die down slowly now that he is in the arms of someone safe and loving.

you walk over to lyla's crib, adjusting luka in your arms to carry him in just one so you can reach in a hand to lyla to let her know you're there.

her cries begin to cease as she grabs at your hand.

"hi there baby, did you nap well angel? happy birthday~" you coo at her.

lyla nods as she grabs at your fingers.

"i'm gonna put your brother in here with you for a moment so i can go get your outfits." you tell her with a smile as you set luka in the crib with lyla.

you turn to their dresser and pick out their outfits for the party, you suppose you'll just have to get dressed in a few minutes.

it was a bit of a struggle to get the outfits on thr twins, both having woken from their naps with a lot of energy meanth they were wiggling around as you were trying to change them and that only prolonged the task.

eventually though, you were successful and placed the two down onto the floor and smiled at them. "goodness, look at how cute you two are... gotta take a picture for daddy, yeah? look at mummy, smile!"

you take your phone out from the pocket if your bathrobe and snap a picture of lyla and luka, adorable smiles on their faces.

a small twinge of sadness pokes at you as you take the picture, sad that simon will only get to see them on their birthday through a picture. celebrating his babies' birthday alone on base.

nonetheless you shake off your negative thoughts and pocket your phone once more, picking the twins up and carrying them both back to your room so you could keep an eye on them as you tried your best to get ready in time for the party

you were now 40 minutes into the party, games being played, the bunch of kids in your backyard ran around and laughed happily. you scanned the area, taking note of where all your own children are.

bug was playing in the dirt with lyla, probably looking for critters, something they bonded over frequently.

matthew was playing tag with luka and some of the other little kids, letting them tag him as they played.

"erin should be back in about five or so minutes." mandy says from behind you, causing you to jump a little at the suddenness.

"jeez! oh, okay.." you reply, putting a hand over your heart to calm yourself as you laughed a little from nerves.

"we should probably start opening presents, yeah?" mandy suggests, motioning to the overflowing presents table.

you couldn't say you didn't spoil your kids, that's for sure.

"yeah, you're right." you nod and begin to call out to the guests and your family.

"guys! it's time for presents and cake!"

"present!" you hear luka scream excitedly, beginning to try and run over to you.

you laugh at his cuteness and sit down, letting everyone gather around, situating the twins on your lap while they open their presents.

you were almost to the end of all the presents when you heard the patio door slid open and closed, erin walking through with a few bags in her hands.

"so sorry i'm late! but i have lots of presents!" she calls, waking over to you and the twins as she holds up the bags.

"here, here, take them." she says, pushing them all onto the table.

"thanks erin, you really didn't have to get this much." you reply with a laugh, letting both of the twins reach out to try and grab the bags, you make sure they grab their own bags, watching as they opened them excitedly.

"okay, erin and i have one more present, but it's for all five of you. gimme just a minute, i'll be right back with it, it's a big gift." mandy says as the twins finish opening their presents.

this makes you look at erin and mandy, a confused and almost worried look on your face. you knew your sister and her wife pretty well and there's so many ways this could go.

mandy runs into the house as everyone at the party waits in anticipation for whatever the hell mandy could've brought.

when mandy returns, her gift is the very last thing you expect.

simon walks through the back door with her, a smile on his unmasked face.

"daddy!" lyla squeals loudly, wiggling from your lap to run over to simon, hugging his leg as she cried from her overwhelming happiness.

"dad?!" you hear matthew and bug yell in shock, both of their voices cracking.

matthew full on runs into simon's arms, hugging his father as tight as he possible could as he also cried, overwhelmed by shock and happiness. he sobbed hard into simon's shoulder as simon chuckled and rubbed his back. "missed you too bud."

"oh my god.. simon?" you say softly, getting up from your seat as you keep luka in your shaking arms.

"c'mere, love." simon responds, motioning in a come hither motion to you.

like you were on autopilot, your feet carried you and luka over to simon, joining in on the family hug. bug was the last to join, wrapping their arms tightly around simon from behind.

"i missed you all so much..." simon says softly, quiet enough for just your sweet little family to hear.

"we missed you too dad." matthew says between sniffles, his emotions still getting the best of him.

"and happy birthday to my two little rascals, you're... three now right?" simon says, teasing the twins.

"no! daddy silly! we dis many." lyla says with a giggle, holding up four fingers in her father's face.

"ah yes, my mistake princess." he chuckles and gives her little head a kiss.

this was definitely the best birthday party you could've ever had for the twins.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x oc #simon ghost riley x oc #ghostedcas #casper's 💌#casper writes #ghostedcas: bug riley #ghostedcas: lyla riley #ghostedcas: luka riley #ghostedcas: matthew riley #ghostedcas: riley family ocs

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gffa · 5 months

Note

Hi :)

I'm a pretty new SW fan, not because I didn't like the movies/hadn't seen them but because I grew up thinking it was extremely nerdy and would often feel awkward trying to bring up anything related to SW.

Fortunately I've finally reached and met awesome people who love SW just like I did but I feel like I lost A LOT of important stuff and there's so much content to the saga that it's extremely overwhelming for me to even think about diving into the whole SW universe and catch up.

I've been following you for a bit and your posts are just extremely interesting to me but again, sometimes I'm a little confused about certain things and so I wanted to ask you if you had any recommendations about where to start catching up (besides the movies which I will be binge watching soon hehe)

Hi! Welcome to Star Wars fandom, I hope you're having a good time! And around here we embrace being as nerdy as possible--I mean, fandom is such a mainstream thing these days, but I still like to embrace being a nerd about things because it leads to a lot more happiness, to just be silly and having a good time with the thing that tickles our brains.

But, yes, it is pretty overwhelming when you're first arriving, I still remember when I first came back to SW several years ago, having really only watched the movies as a kid, and there was All This Stuff and it seemed impossible to ever reach the deep end of the pool, and that was before the last seven years of books, games, movies, comics, etc. came out! I will hopefully set your mind at ease with this, though: The vast, vast majority of content that Star Wars puts out isn't anything I would consider "essential". It's wonderful, fantastic stuff! But a lot of us have just been around so long that we're combing through the finer details of supplementary material, rather than those being absolute Must-Read/Watch To Get A Feel For Star Wars.

My recommendations for How To Get A Feel For Star Wars is basically, start with the animated series and the live action series, they're the second layer of foundation in the Star Wars building, all the comics and novels and such will be built on them, and in this order: - The movies, this is the foundation on which everything else will be built. - The Clone Wars, season 1-6 are part of George Lucas' story and they're pretty essential (at least in this corner of SW fandom) to understanding wtf anyone is talking about or even watching many of the live action series. (Season 7 is fine and should be watched! It's just not part of Lucas' Star Wars.) - Star Wars: Rebels, starts off light-hearted but really is one of the best developed shows and does a lot of connective work between the prequels and the original trilogy. - The Mandalorian, set 9 years after Return of the Jedi, this show just massively blew up and while each season is slightly less well-done than the previous one (imo), it's well worth watching for wtf fandom is talking about half of the time. (The Book of Boba Fett is somewhat optional in this corner of fandom, but imo worth the watch. Generally, it should go Mando s1-2 --> TBOBF --> Mando s3.) - Obi-Wan Kenobi, because this corner of fandom lost our goddamned minds about it and still haven't gotten them back. - Andor, which is a really great show and, as long as you've watched Rogue One first, you'll follow along just fine. Does some solid connecting the dots between the prequels and the originals, but not as much as Rebels did. - Jedi: Fallen Order, you can look up a "movie" version on YouTube for the story of this game, which is a really good plot, has some great new characters, has some genuinely effective cameos, and will be referenced fairly often in other materials/in fandom.

If you're not feeling overwhelmed by All The Star Wars You've Consumed, I would personally suggest going for the comics next, over any of the novels. The novels are great! But the vast majority of them are self-contained and meant to be supplementary material even more than the comics, which get to tell bigger, more connected stories. I always suggest starting with: - Star Wars 2015 by Jason Aaron + Darth Vader 2015 by Kieron Gillen, both of which are really, solidly fantastic stories about the timeframe just after A New Hope, like there are so many absolutely banger lines that came out of these comics. I won't spoil them, just know that I think these were legitimately good comics, not just legitimately good Star Wars comics. (The first six issues of each series are meant to be read concurrently, but after that, you can just pick one and read in that specific title.) - Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith 2017 by Charles Soule, which is set in the immediate aftermath of Revenge of the Sith. If Gillen's Vader keeps the mystique of the originals Unknowable Darth Vader, then Soule's Vader is more about the absolute BATSHIT DRAMA that is blending Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader. This series is BANANAPANTS in the absolute best way. - Obi-Wan & Anakin 2015 by Charles Soule, which is a five-issue mini-series set between The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones and is both stunningly beautiful art and a solidly good plot that survives fairly serious analysis of. It's got some great worldbuilding details, but even more I like it for the look at why a young Anakin chooses to stay with the Jedi Order.

The one book I will recommend--for a list aimed at getting you caught up on what fandom is referencing--is the Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matthew Stover, that book is quoted constantly, and I'm not sure any other SW book has ever been as good as it is.

I feel like this is the best set of reading to get you familiarized with the source material that tends to come up the most! There's lots more that's really good, but once you get through the above, you can let me know what era or characters you're most interested in or if you have a specific question about something and want to see where it comes from!

But there's one thing to address and you're kinda going to have to figure out how to approach it on your own. 😂 There is a ton of stuff in SW fandom that's ostensibly from a book or a comic, but the version in fandom often comes from those who never actually read the books/haven't read them in a long time or are just picking them up from other fic and meta.

For example, the AgriCorps or Melida/Daan get referenced in fic and in posts all the time, but I wouldn't necessarily recommend reading the Jedi Apprentice series (I mean, I'm not your mom, feel free if you want to!) and often times how they're used in fic is not how they were used in the source material. Or the clones speaking Mando'a comes from the Legends books by Karen Traviss and she is a whole big can of ugly worms (both what she wrote and her IRL politics), as well as much of what she wrote was overwritten/discarded when The Clone Wars came out, but fandom likes the idea and so they put that into their fics (as they should, if they like it!). The idea of Mace using the lightsaber form of Vaapad is from Legends sources (the best source probably being the Shatterpoint novel by Matthew Stover, I'd guess?), same for his ability to see "shatterpoints" in the Force, which aren't part of Lucas' continuity or Disney's continuity, but fandom enjoys using them to flesh out Mace's character. This will get you started and, if you're looking for something more specific, feel free to ask, I enjoy these kinds of question--and don't feel you have to stick with any of the above if they're not fun for you. This is meant to be enjoyable, it's meant to have a good time, there's no wrong way to consume Star Wars media! <3

#lumi.txt #star wars #novel recs #(eh that's my tag for this kind of thing)

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teaberrii · 6 months

Text

Chapter 10: Plan of Attack

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Should you be surprised they still keep in touch? Probably not. The only reason you can think of is Yanqing. Should you leave the room? Should—

“...Hello?”

The questions in your mind stop once Jing Yuan answers the phone. Jing Yuan glances at you as you hear his ex's voice on the other line, but you can't hear what she's saying. Jing Yuan frowns, and he puts a hand on his hip.

“Yanqing still has school,” he finally says. “I’m not taking him back early.” A pause. “Blade’s looking after him.” A shorter pause. “...I’m busy tonight.”

And Jing Yuan ends the call.

You put a hand on his back, unsure if anything you say can help to lighten the situation. Still, what was that about?

"She wants to take Yanqing back to the city," Jing Yuan finally says with a hard look.

“Did she say why?”

“She thinks it’s better for his future, but I have a hunch it’s because she doesn’t like it here.”

“...Could it be about the project?" you ask. "She does have a bit of history with this place.”

Jing Yuan pulls you close to him, spins you around, and hugs you from behind. His chin is on your shoulder, and his arms and hands are around yours. You can feel his heartbeat.

“Let’s not talk about her.”

You lean back into him, feeling his hard chest against your back. The silence doesn't last long when you turn and say, "...Let me bring her up just one last time." You take a small breath. "Do you think I can talk to her?" It's the first time you see him so surprised. "I want to see how much she knows about Star Rails."

“Are you sure?”

No. You're not. You could end up with nothing. Or, an outrageous scenario is she somehow reports you to someone inside the company.

“I can’t ignore this hunch that she knows something. But”—you look up at him—“I won’t mention you.” Jing Yuan takes your hand that’s resting on his chest. “If she knows we’re dating and Star Rails really is hiding something… she probably won’t give me much, if not anything at all.” You put a hand underneath your chin. “Plus, there’s also a possibility that she still knows someone internally… I need to make it seem like I’m not suspicious of anything—”

Jing Yuan taking your other hand makes you stop and look at him.

“...If we plan this right, it could work," he says.

“Really? You think?”

“It would be a risk, though.”

“I think I need some kind of edge to get ahead. I could still talk to some of the locals, but I’m starting to think I might not get much.” You sigh. “If Star Rails did have something to do with what happened to Caelus… it’d bring some closure to everybody, don’t you think?”

“It would, but your safety is still number one.” Jing Yuan puts his hands on your shoulders. “Hey… I want to go back to what you said earlier.” You look at him in anticipation. “...About us dating.”

You gently hit him. “And here I was thinking that you were onto something.” You look off to the side. “What about it?”

“I guess our fake relationship ends today.”

You look back and see him smiling. “Someone’s happy.”

He gently pinches your cheek. “Doesn’t look like I’m the only one.”

You take his hand, and he pulls you in for a bear hug as you slightly squeal at his warm embrace. Then, with your back against his hard chest again, you say, "Should we go pick Yanqing up?" You glance at the clock. "It's getting late."

In a low voice, you hear Jing Yuan chuckle beside your ear. “Already? And here I was hoping I could have you for just a little longer.”

He reaches over and grabs his phone off the table without letting you go. Then, he texts Blade to which a response comes quickly.

Now? I thought you’d have her for the whole night.

Your face warms when you read the text. Jing Yuan lets you go and quickly types in a reply. When you look at him, you can see his cheeks are also slightly red.

“He said he’ll drop Yanqing off since he’s going out anyway.”

“Ah… Okay.” You walk over to a long, glass cabinet. “...I was looking at this photo, and… is this Caelus?”

Jing Yuan walks over. “That’s him.”

“The woman on the other side…”

“Stelle. His sister.”

You turn to Jing Yuan. “Is she still in Xianzhou?”

“...She’s—”

The sound of the doorbell echoes throughout the house.

Jing Yuan walks to the door, and you trail behind him. As soon as Jing Yuan opens the door, Yanqing runs in and gives him a giant hug.

“Dad!” Before Jing Yuan can say anything, Yanqing immediately looks past him. “Mom!” Then, he runs up and hugs you.

“He was asking great questions about your date,” Blade says.

“Questions?” Jing Yuan turns around and sees you hugging Yanqing.

Blade looks past Jing Yuan. “Yanqing, why don’t you tell your dad what you asked me.”

Yanqing turns around. “I asked what you had planned… and…”

“And?” you ask.

Yanqing looks at you with a shy look. “...And… if you were willing to sleep over.”

Your eyes widen.

“I obviously couldn’t answer that one,” Blade says.

Jing Yuan walks over and puts a hand on Yanqing’s shoulder. “...That’s a little fast, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Well, I don’t know…” Blade says. “Heard it was going to rain like crazy.” He looks at Jing Yuan. “Do you really want to drive in bad weather?”

“I’m more worried about you,” Jing Yuan says, giving Blade a deadpan look. “Go run your errands before it starts pouring.”

Blade pats Jing Yuan on the shoulder with a small smile. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Bye, Dad!”

Blade affectionately ruffles Yanqing’s hair. “See you later, kid.”

You and Blade wave at each other, and then he’s off.

Jing Yuan closes the door while Yanqing runs up to you. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”

“If your dad allows me to, I can stay a little longer.”

Yanqing doesn’t have to look at Jing Yuan for him to say, “Of course she can.” Then, he walks up to Yanqing. “Why don’t you take a shower first?”

“Okay!”

And then he runs upstairs.

“Listen…” You turn to Jing Yuan. “I really don’t mind if you stay over for the night. I’d… like that, actually. We have a guest room you can use. But if you’re not comfortable, I can drive you back.”

You chuckle. “Well, we technically haven’t finished our date yet, General.” You lightly jab his chest. “Chess, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Then, he pulls you into a hug. “So, I take it you’re comfortable staying the night?”

“I am, but… You do know I don’t have a change of clothes, right?”

“There’s always mine.”

“Not a bad option if I do say so myself.”

While Jing Yuan is upstairs preparing the guest room, you're helping with the dishes. Soon, Yanqing runs into the kitchen.

“Whoa there, kiddo. What’s the rush?” you ask, turning off the tap.

“Dad said you’re sleeping over!”

You dry your hands on a clean towel. “That’s right.” Then, jokingly, “Do you not want me to?”

Yanqing hugs you. “I do.” After he lets you go, he says, “...And, I… I also don’t like it when dad’s driving when it’s raining really hard.”

By now, it’s pouring.

“I understand,” you say. “It can get dangerous.”

Yanqing nods as he takes a clean dish from you. “...Dad was in an accident when it rained.” You crouch and pat Yanqing’s head. “So, I don’t like it when he’s out on rainy days.”

Jing Yuan has just come down the stairs. He’s about to enter the kitchen when he sees you crouched next to Yanqing. It looks like you’re comforting him, and Jing Yuan has a good idea of what his son is worrying about. Thunder roars in the distance just as he walks into the kitchen.

“The guest room’s ready.” Yanqing turns to his father just as Jing Yuan says, “Blade told me he’s home.”

Yanqing sighs out of relief. “Oh, good!”

“Are you ready for your first chess lesson?” Jing Yuan asks you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Ooh, can I watch?”

“Maybe we can team up,” you joke.

“I’ll grab the game!”

You watch Yanqing run off somewhere in the house. Jing Yuan walks over and asks, “Did he tell you about the accident?”

“...He mentioned it.” You take his hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. “What happened?”

It was a late, rainy evening when Jing Yuan was driving home from work. He was exhausted as he was putting in the extra effort and hours to be considered for an upcoming promotion. He heard his phone buzz with a message, and despite knowing he should keep his eyes on the road, he had to look. His wife had texted him earlier that she felt nauseous and sick, and Jing Yuan wanted to hurry back.

It was for a moment that his attention went from the road to the text from his wife. But it was at that moment that the car slid. While Jing Yuan took all safety measures, he still had to make a choice: it was either the car in front of him or a small tree. Soon, there was a loud bang. His body jerked forward followed by the sound of an airbag going off. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the destroyed tree in front of him.

“This was before Yanqing was born,” Jing Yuan says. Then, he slightly moved his shirt to the side to reveal part of his dragon tattoo. But upon a closer look, you see that it’s hiding a scar. “He eventually asked me where I got the scar from.”

“...I’m glad it wasn’t worse.” You look up at him. “Why a dragon, though?”

With humour in his tone, he asks, "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Pinky promise."

“It was Yanqing's idea. He was obsessed with dragons at the time, and thought it'd make me happier if something 'cool' covered up the trauma."

"I bet looking at it reminds you of happier memories now."

"You're right."

Yanqing comes running back with a box and says, “I’m back!”

As the rain continues, you, Jing Yuan, and Yanqing are sitting near the fire. Yanqing shares a seat with you while Jing Yuan teaches you the basics and some simple strategies.

“Ready for a match?”

You doubt you’ll win, but you still say, “Ready as I'll ever be.”

Halfway through the game, Yanqing ends up sitting on your lap, watching the game intently and doing his best not to give anything away. But, eventually, he starts whispering in your ear, and you look at him in mild surprise. Jing Yuan watches you make your move, and he looks from you to Yanqing and back to you.

“Now, how is this fair?” Jing Yuan asks with a little smile.

“It’s totally fair.” You and Yanqing look at each other and smile. Then, he gives you a high five. “We’ll beat Dad together!”

But, Jing Yuan still prevails, much to your and Yanqing’s dismay.

Jing Yuan stands and looks at the clock. “All right, it’s time for bed.” Yanqing hops off your lap and you stand just as Jing Yuan turns to you. “Are you going to shower? I’ll grab you clothes.”

You never expect your first date to turn out in an evening with you in Jing Yuan’s clothes. His oversized black t-shirt reaches just past your knees, and his shorts are far too big but make for comfy pyjamas to lounge in. By the time you exit the washroom, you hear Jing Yuan’s voice from a nearby room.

“I’m impressed. You really improved.”

“Of course!”

You peek into the room and see Jing Yuan standing behind Yanqing who’s sitting at a desk. The room is colourful with a bright mural on one wall with an ink painting on the other. A light blue and white bed is in the center and a wooden desk is against the wall with the painting.

“Oh, Mom!”

Jing Yuan turns toward the door, and you push it open.

You enter the room and ask, “Is this your room, Yanqing?"

"Yup!"

Then, Jing Yuan says, “I’m glad the clothes fit.”

You come up next to him. “They’re comfy.” Then, you look at Yanqing’s desk and see a hand-drawn character on an iPad. “Did you draw this?”

Yanqing looks proudly at his drawing. “I’ve been learning.” He turns back. “I want to be the best in the class!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you already are,” you say.

“Hear that, Dad?”

“Did I ever say you were bad?”

“I bet you could draw Clara a birthday card.”

Yanqing smiles at you. “You think?”

“It’d go great with the snacks we’ll be making," you say.

Yanqing rolls up his sleeves. “Ooh, why don’t I make a game out of it?”

“Very innovative.”

Then, Yanqing shoos you and Jing Yuan out of his room. "The Master needs his space."

“When did he start learning to draw?” you ask as you follow Jing Yuan to the guest room.

“After the divorce. He was having a rough time, so I was hoping a new hobby would take his mind off things.”

“He definitely has the talent.”

Jing Yuan opens the door to the guest room; it’s minimalistic like the rest of Jing Yuan’s house with a beige and white bed against a cream-coloured wall and a single painting on one side of the wall. There’s also a desk in one corner.

As you walk in, Jing Yuan stands at the door. “I hope the room is to your liking, Miss.”

You see him with one hand on the door and the other on the doorframe. “It’s very much to my liking.”

Then, he leans in and kisses you. Once. Twice. Until…

He pulls away with a little smile. “...Yanqing’s here.”

You put your arms around his neck and give him a quick peck on the lips. “Guess we’ll have to be patient.”

“I hope not for long.”

“Good things come to those who wait.”

Jing Yuan chuckles. “Goodnight, Corporal.”

◆◆◆

You aren’t sure what time it is when you’re woken up by the buzz of your phone. You think about leaving it, but something tells you that it’s important. So, you get out of bed and quickly walk to the desk where the name on your screen instantly snaps you awake.

Kafka: I found something interesting. Call me.

You sit on the edge of the bed. As soon as the call goes through, you say, “I saw your text.”

In Kafka’s apartment, she’s making coffee with his phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “Sampo gave me the missing project documentation.”

“Sampo? How did he get involved?”

“Come in.” As soon as Sampo walked in, Kafka looked up from her laptop just as he sat in the chair in front of her desk. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“...Is it true Star Rails is hiding something?”

“Where is this coming from?”

Sampo crossed one leg over the other. “I overheard your conversation with her the other day.” After saying your name, Sampo said, “I was in a different department when that project was happening, but I have all of that project’s reports.”

Stunned, Kafka asked, “You have them? Then… Why were they not submitted to the system?”

“...Because I was asked not to.”

“By who?”

Sampo said a woman’s name that Kafka vaguely recognized. Before she could ask more questions, he said, “I’m telling you this now because I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire of what might happen. You and her are looking into this, right? Something’s happening over in Xianzhou.”

“I don’t know what’s happening over there, but”—Kafka puts her elbows on her desk—“you kept them all this time?”

“She never gave me a plausible reason. I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I kept them instead.”

“Could you give me those reports?”

“...I’m not going to get in trouble, am I?”

“You didn’t get rid of them, which is good.”

Sampo sighed. “Honestly, I went through them, and I didn’t find anything strange. So, if you’re looking for some big reveal of something, you’re probably not going to find it.”

“Well, you never know.”

The surprise about Sampo aside, you recognize the woman’s name. Jing Yuan’s ex had asked Sampo to get rid of the project records. But, why?

“I went through them, and there’s a name that stood out.” After Kafka says a male name, she says, “He was listed as a stakeholder, and… I found an article about him that he’s related to Caelus, the last owner of the boutique hotel.”

Your jaw almost drops. “Could you send that to me?” A small pause. “...The woman who told Sampo to hide the records… I’m thinking about talking to her.”

“You know her?”

“Not exactly, but…” Maybe it’s best to keep your relationship with Jing Yuan a secret for now. “I know someone who does.” Then, you tell Kafka about your proposed plan of attack.

“...As long as you don’t give too much away, you should be fine. But, it’s probably best you don’t mention Sampo.”

“I won’t.”

Once you end the call with Kafka, you head out of your room and see Jing Yuan come out of his. He looks a little surprised, perhaps not expecting you to be up this early, but you’re a little stunned to see him in just his sleeping shorts.

“Morning.”

“...Morning.” You’ve seen him shirtless. So, why are you getting flustered? “You’re up early.”

Jing Yuan walks over. “So are you. Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log.”

He smiles and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be up so early.”

“Why?”

“I was hoping to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

You scoff with a little smile. “Is this one of your special services?”

Jing Yuan puts his arms around you. “An exclusive service for my very special someone."

"I... can't do this in the morning," you say with a short laugh. Jing Yuan leans in and nuzzles your neck.

Your arms are around him. “There’s… something I need to ask you.”

“What is it?”

You hear a door open and Yanqing walks out rubbing his eyes. “Good morning.” He looks at you just as you and Jing Yuan let each other go. Then, Yanqing gasps. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No.” Yanqing slightly narrows his eyes at you and Jing Yuan’s simultaneous response. Jing Yuan clears his throat and says, “Time to get ready for school.”

After washing up and getting dressed, you’re setting the table while Jing Yuan makes breakfast.

“What did you want to ask me earlier?” he asks, putting a freshly made grilled cheese sandwich on a plate.

“Oh…” You say a man’s name. “...Is he related to Caelus?”

Jing Yuan looks at you. “That’s his uncle… but Caelus never talked about him much. Their relationship wasn’t that great. How do you know about him?”

You tell him about the conversation between you and Kafka. Then, you take out your phone and show him the feature article that you read before coming downstairs. What stands out is that he’s a close business partner of Star Rails.

“I… also found out that your ex asked one of my colleagues to hide the project report."

“This is my first time hearing that Caelus's uncle was part of this," Jing Yuan says with a frown. "She's never mentioned him before."

You hear someone hurry down the stairs, and you quickly slide your phone into your pocket.

“I smell grilled cheese!” Yanqing runs up and takes a seat in front of a plate. “What were you talking about?”

“We…” You and Jing Yuan look at each other.

“...were talking about going grocery shopping to get what we need to make cookies for Clara’s birthday,” Jing Yuan finishes.

You nod. Then, looking at Yanqing, you say, “Let’s all go together.”

“Yeah!”

After breakfast, you’re back in Jing Yuan’s car. He drops Yanqing off at school and drives back to the bed and breakfast when you glance at him and ask, “Does she contact you often? Your ex?”

“After the divorce, we only kept in touch because of Yanqing. But she’s been calling me more recently, and it’s because she wants to take him back to the city.”

You put your elbow on the windowsill. “I’ve been thinking of the best way to, well, reach out to her without causing suspicion.”

Then, you see his face turn a little pale, his gaze hardens, and his expression turns serious. You face forward, and you see a woman getting out of a taxi with a man. The man is grabbing luggage from the trunk when the woman looks at Jing Yuan’s car. She also has a serious look, one that’s far from pleased. Then, she looks at you, and her eyes immediately narrow.

“...Looks like we’ll have to face her faster than we thought.”

Chapter 11

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @nqctre @grimreapersscythe @asakenajustexistshere @winterpein @queencybow

#jingyuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x you #honkai jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan

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appocalipse · 2 years

Note

BEGGING for lipstick from the prompt list with Steve. I’ve been binging all of your blurbs and then read that prompt and died thinking about it.

you're so sweet, thank you. ♥ honestly i was hoping someone would pick this prompt cause it was my favorite | steve + fake dating ♥

[LIPSTICK; Brushing lipstick off their cheek after the other/someone kisses them. ]

—

You find Steve sitting on a sun lounger beside the pool, watching the water thoughtfully. Probably bored out of his mind, you think, feeling a little guilty.

He doesn't hear you approaching. The sun lounger is big enough for you to sit next to him, though there's only a tiny gap between your bare thigh and his.

"Sorry," you say, handing him one of the two glasses you brought with you and offering an apologetic smile.

Steve stares suspiciously at the red liquid, frowning at the small bright yellow umbrella decorating the glass. "For what?" he asks. His tone is soft, his expression even softer when his eyes meet yours.

"For dragging you to the world's most boring party."

"Oh, you should see my parents' parties," he beams, fiddling with the small umbrella absentmindedly. "Those were three times worse than this. And at least I have you here."

He lightly bumps your shoulder with his and you try to keep the smile on your face from looking too silly, too needy. You don't think you succeed. The solution is lowering your head and pretending to be interested in the drink in your hand — which, by the way, you don't even know what it's called, let alone what it's made of.

And Steve looks too pretty in the dim moonlight.

"And you didn't drag me here, I volunteered," he adds when you don't say anything, taking a careful sip of his own drink. "But what is this? Jesus," he frowns at the glass as if it has offended him deeply.

Then, Steve laughs.

As always, his laugh is contagious. A giggle escapes you in no time. "I have no idea. Some fancy drink May is making for everyone."

Steve braves another sip, then decidedly puts the glass down on the ground next to your legs…your legs, which he's now looking intently at. It's subtle but definitely there, a gaze that lingers a second too long before he's straightening up and clearing his throat, once again the picture of a great, respectful friend. It happened, you tell yourself. And yet, your mind desperately tries to convince you that you're reading too much into this, into him, into this relationship.

You take a big sip of your drink. It's far from being your favorite, but it's also not bad. A little sweet, a little strong. You're not sure whether you're hoping it boosts your courage or completely erases it along with all of your thoughts about the boy beside you. It doesn't seem to be working either way.

Coming to this high school reunion — a pathetic excuse of a party with your classmates from your old school in Indianapolis, more like — was probably not your best decision. Bringing Steve along as your fake boyfriend wasn't your brightest idea either, because even though he'd been pretty convincing all night and made everyone basically fall in love with him, now you can't stop thinking about what it would be like if he really was your boyfriend.

"So," Steve starts, sighing. You look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of a star, a distraction, but the sky is clear tonight. "That guy- Philip."

Steve doesn't look at you. He tries very hard to appear almost distracted, like he's just making small talk. You bite back a smile.

"Phil," you correct him.

"Phil," Steve repeats, as if the name leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "He looked really upset when you introduced me as your boyfriend, you know."

There's potential in the way this conversation is going, you think, although you also hate how this is the first thing that comes to your mind.

"He's with May," you inform.

"Why do I feel like there's a story there?"

You set your glass down carefully next to Steve's and take a deep breath. "There is. A very short one: we dated the year before I moved to Hawkins, tried long distance, and then he cheated on me with May and they started dating. The end."

Steve stares at you for a long moment before answering.

"Wow, what an idiot. I was going to say I'm sorry, but you can do so much better than him. Honestly."

You exhale a nervous laugh. "So much better that I had to ask a friend to pretend to be my boyfriend just so I wouldn't feel like such a loser."

"You are not a loser."

The look you give him seems to ask 'really?' Steve stares back at you as if you've just cursed him profusely, although you can see the offended expression is entirely false.

"You are not a loser," he repeats seriously, holding your gaze.

You can read the request implied in the sentence, and you see little option but to comply with it, smiling.

"Okay, I'm not a loser," you concede, feigning annoyance. You look down at your shoes, certain that this is not the time for self-pity but unable to stop. "I just can't make anyone love me."

"I love you," Steve says easily.

You use all your willpower not to blush, even though you're positive it's not even possible to contain such a thing. It's not the first time Steve has said those words and you know there's nothing romantic about them. And yet every time you hear those three words — which happened only a couple of times during the span of your friendship, (usually caused by emotional hugs on holidays) — you still feel an inexplicable tingling in the back of your neck, a shiver down your spine.

"I love you too," you say, and it's not the first time either. Getting the words out without letting the real extent of the feeling behind them show is still quite hard for you. "But I meant, you know… as more than friends."

Steve looks at you differently, or maybe it's just the faint moonlight tricking your eyes, but for a moment you think he's actually going to say something.

And then the moment passes and he leans forward, resting his palms on his knees in silence.

You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"Thank you."

Steve turns his face to look at you.

"What for?"

"For coming here with me. And for keeping up the loyal boyfriend facade even in front of a bunch of gorgeous girls drooling over you."

You chuckle in hopes of sounding more relaxed. All Steve does is smile.

"It wasn't hard, you now," he says, and you don't think you'd be able to wipe the smile from your face if you tried. "It was actually pretty easy. And you're way prettier than all of them."

Your smile grows into a giggle. "Steve-"

"And way funnier and kinder too. And nicer. You're really nice, you know that? And your perfume is-"

You put your hand over his mouth, laughing. "Fine, fine! Stop!" you chide, even though this is the last thing you want him to do.

You can see the smile in his eyes.

And that's it; it's the soft look on his face, his infuriating perfect hair, his sweet words...those are the things you blame when you lean forward and impulsively kiss him on the cheek, leaving a red mark on his skin almost perfectly the shape of your lips.

"Thank you," you say before pulling away, sounding surprisingly firm despite what you've just done.

You can't be imagining it. The expression of confusion on his face, half disbelieving and half dreamy, definitely a little satisfied. It can't be just you imagining it.

Did I cause this?

Your thumb touches the lipstick stain on Steve's cheek and you rub it gently, using your other hand to gently cup his chin. "Shit, I'm sorry, Steve," you whisper. "I got lipstick on your face."

He smiles. You know he's smiling because you're looking at his mouth right now.

And he's looking at yours.

Oh my God.

The pad of your thumb is red because of the lipstick and his cheek is still slightly colored by the traces of it, but now your attention has dissipated like a puff of smoke and you are unable to grasp it again.

Steve grabs your wrist, mumbles your name. With his free hand, he touches your lips with his fingertips and states, "Your lipstick is smudged."

"Is it?" you ask.

"It is," he assures. And kisses you.

Steve's lips are soft and he tastes like May's drink, sweet as he moves against you slowly, perhaps hesitant or perhaps wanting to enjoy every second, you think, wishing it was the last option. His arm curls around your waist and you sigh against his mouth, pulling away just for a brief moment. But his lips chase yours and capture them in another kiss and another and another until there's no option but to pull away for air.

He rests his forehead against yours and smiles between heavy breaths. "I lied," Steve whispers. "Your lipstick wasn't smudged before."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things drabble #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #stranger things oneshot #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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nocturnesmoon · 19 days

Text

Chapter 3: Ghosts Of The Past

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series:The Divine Violence - Chapter 3: Ghosts Of The Past

Wordcount: 5.5K

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Implied eating disorders, Jealousy, Past abuse, Underage drinking, vomiting

Description: Soap approaches you to eat lunch with him, you begrudgingly accept.

A/N: Wooo another chapter done! Finally getting into some of the angsty bits that's gonna be a gateway to things we're going to expand upon later in the story. Everybody stay hydrated and I hope you enjoy it!

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The night is young and beautiful. Stars would cover the sky above you if it wasn't from the pollution of the city lights. You can still count a few, one, two, three, even four. They're bright here, one even seems to be blinking at you before you realize it's a plane.

It feels almost too ceremonial with the full moon in the sky, and Simon standing by the little makeshift fire in the pile of trash. It reminds you a little of your confirmation, years past by now. Though the church was a lot cleaner, the people like minded. Clothing of white making you shine in the sun, your proud mother with her uptight smile, and your father who had never before seemed proud of anything you did, now smiled warm toned at you.

You can still remember each word the priest spoke to you. Etched so deep in your brain it might as well have been carved into the back of your palm.

Thinking back to it, you realize it's different to this, so much different. The grittiness has a charm to it, but the real reason your nerves have skyrocketed is because of him. You take a step closer to the fire, watch him pop open the bottle of vodka. The one he had stolen from his father’s cabinet. Easier now that he wasn't home as much.

"Nervous?"

He grins at you, grabbing your fidgeting hand in his own. "We can still leave it be?" he offers kindly, but you quickly shake your head no. You had asked for this, you wanted to try it, because you knew the closest way you'd ever come to alcohol otherwise was the wine (Which wasn't even wine, it was grape juice) at the communion in church.

Simon had so graciously offered when you mentioned your want in passing. The curious nature in your soul wanting to try it at least once, even if you turned out to dislike it. You squeeze his hand, as if to jitter out your nerves. Being this far from home never felt good to you, a festering anxiety in your mind that your parents would find out and punish you.

There was a lot of things Simon could help you with, even take the fall for you should the situation call for it, but not this. No, this would be on you, and it would not feel good.

The fire crackles in front of you, something sharp snaps and brings your focus away from the bottle. You had no clue what was burning in there, but it provided a warm place for you to be so you didn't have much to complain about.

"Whenever you're ready Little Spider," he teases and brings the bottle to your hand.

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Does it really burn that bad?" you take the bottle with a small grimace. Your eyes nervously flicking from the liquid to him and back again.

"You seem very determined that this is what you want to do, so why don't you take a sip and find out?"

Another moments hesitance, and you bring the bottle to your lips. In the first second it doesn't burn, just so that the little thought of relief can enter your brain, before being squashed by the lit fire in your throat.

He quickly grabs the bottle away from you, when you start coughing and spurting. The sounds of your distress drowned out by his roaring laughter. His hand comes to pat you on the back, his eyes almost filled with tears from his laughter.

"Oh my oh my oh my, why why why did I do this."

"Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad, was it?" he looks down at the bottle experimentally. Acting as if he hadn't tasted it countless times before. He brings it to his lips when your outburst calms down, taking a sip seamlessly, taking the burn proud and easy.

"How in the world," you sound astonished by his display. He tries to keep a straight face, but fails very quickly when he sees how you look at him like he's crazy. "Hey don't laugh!" you swat his arm, but soon fall into the laughter along with him.

The fire illuminates his face, casting shadows of you both behind on the wall. The soft orange glow makes some of his features stand out more than normal. His little scars close to his mouth that's normally almost invisible, now almost makes him look scary if it wasn't for how his face was lit up with joy.

"Oh wow," you grab the bottle back to read the inscription as if that would give you more clarity. "I don't understand how people drink stuff like this daily...I mean it's not that good."

His smile falls a little, his breathing catching up from the fit of laughter. "Well, drink enough of it and you'll start to feel funny," he explains simply instead of doing in-depth.

"Huh..." you look at the little alcohol percentage on the bottle, "have you been drunk before?"

He doesn't respond immediately, almost as if he seems ashamed of it. "A few times," he admits and trails closer to the wall, "with a few other guys from school." He leans on it, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes him look edgy, his dark attire and the illumination of a dumpster fire. He looks older than he is like that.

You come closer, tilting your head to the side slightly. He looks at you tentatively, taking in all that is you, the way you look, the way you move, the way you position yourself in front of him, so very close.

"What else have you done?" you ask in a knowing tone that didn't know much at all, "that you haven't had the heart to tell me about yet?" His eyes widen slightly panicked for a moment. You already know how he's compiling an excuse in his brain, or some way to explain himself away from anger, but you aren't angry.

"I just didn't think it was your thing...didn't want to bother you with it...make you feel like you had to," he explains quickly. You shake your head, making sure to give him a small smile as reassurance. His shoulders sag more.

"It wasn't..." you tell him, “But now I’m curious."

"Are you now?" his voice turns back to teasing. How you'd love to smear that smug smile off him, one way or another.

You bring the bottle to your lips, drinking way more than you probably should.

"Yeah, so let's find out."

Your throat burns whenever you throw up. It's become a much more frequent occurrence. The stress of your problems taking wear on your mind. You're no more surprised to find a singular grey hair protrude from your scalp, than you are from the blood mixed with bile in the sink.

That had been your breakfast most likely. The only meal you had found yourself able to sneak away to eat in peace of your assigned room. It left your stomach empty again, the pained hollow feeling you despised despite how much of your life was spent in it.

You'd take anything over this. Oh, how you wished you could be like anyone else, the majority of the reasons to throw up being a hangover, or being sick. Though alcohol hasn't touched your lips in years.

The fluorescent lights blink above you, the little buzzing drowned out by your heavy breathing. The space is better than what you've had the past while, but you did miss the privacy of the motel. People had a tendency to stare here.

You turn on the water, guiding it along with your hands to wash away the bile. Blood trickles down from your knuckles, the split ends of flesh flaking off the bone. You can see the white underneath. The sound of the door opening brings your attention away from it. You avoid the mirror despite its desperate pleas.

No what you can't just leave me here! Please you can't be serious! You're just going to let him keep me in here?! Please just look at me, don't go.

You look towards the mohawk showing itself first.

When you first met Soap, you had been taken aback. He had a very intense personality, a fire within that outshined in his actions. You have yet to determine your own disposition on him. He's friendly enough towards you, all things considered.

"Ah there ye are." He's been standing outside that door for who knows how long. He likely heard the wretched sound as your stomach gave in on itself. Why he chose now to step in, eludes you.

You clear your throat, the hunch in your back stretching out after you turn off the running water. Your fingers run over your knuckles; the wounds gone. "Do you need something?" keeping your voice steady and polite proves a more difficult task than you'd like it to.

"Have ye had lunch yet...?" he's being careful with you. It's a revelation you didn't expect to have for him, did he figure something out he shouldn't have? Does he know?

"Ah was gonna invite ye to join us this mornin' for breakfast, but ah couldn't find ye." Good that had been the intention. A part of you did recognize you couldn't hole yourself away forever though. You were already the odd one out in the group of four.

"Oh.."

Your voice is too weak

The mirror echoes.

"Right...I..."

You clear your throat again, it feels too constricted, the air in here is not enough for you.

You catch yourself in his vibrant blue eyes. You could see an ocean in them, the beautiful waves at sea, the smell of salt in the air. You can feel the surgent winds ghosting over your skin, the sting and burn as water enters your lungs, a warm hand on the back of your neck holding you down. A faraway chanting of prayer echoes muffled in your ears.

"No...I haven't" you try to muster a smile.

"Good," he says pleased "ye're with me then."

The sea is faraway.

The mess hall is the exact kind of hell you expected it to be. Loud, obnoxious, filled with potential social threats and unnecessary questions on the verge from the man sitting in front of you. The only bit of luck you seem to have kept, shows itself in the lack of soldiers here at all. Most of them had likely already eaten.

The meal Infront of you looked anything but appetizing. Yet Soap seemed all the more happy to devour it with no complaints. He's been talking your head off ever since you sat down, clueing you in on things at base. Most of it is useful information you manage to retain, but after awhile your ears goes deaf despite how much you want to listen.

Though you have to admit that it sounds like they're a tight knit group. The 141 formed quite awhile ago, managing to take out several high-level threats. It made sense to put them up against the divine principle, but you couldn't help the doubt in your mind that anything would come of it. Even if you managed to take the group down once more, they would just resurface years later until you took out the root of the problem.

You had failed to do it once.

"...are ye listening?"

Your eyes flicker up from your murky food, locking eyes with Soap. What the hell kind of name was that anyway. Was he good at cleaning dishes? A lot of code names tend to be teasing or insults, so maybe he got teased for it?

"Yeah," you reassure him by briefly giving him your undivided attention. You'd quickly trail out again.

"Ye can tell me to shut up, ah know ah talk a lot" he doesn't sound ashamed of it, but you can hear the hint of self deprecation. Someone's definitely shamed him in the past. You had no intention to do so, you quite preferred people who talk a lot. They talk fast, easy, and typically give way more information than they should which paints you a better picture. A bonus point that it fills out the silence you bring.

"No... it’s nice," you mutter and pick up your fork. You might as well try to fight some of it down, you hadn't even touched any of it yet, and Soap was practically done even with his rambling.

You didn't know whether the lack of people in a typically populated space made you more or less anxious.

"So, ye used to hunt these people a few years ago?"

You meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like forever. You're not sure what you were supposed to find in them, but definitely not the curiosity that shines. This entire taskforce is playing with a hellfire they do not understand. It's practically impossible to take it down, even from within, lord knows you've tried.

"Yeah."

You could bite your lip bloody trying to think of ways to continue the conversation from here. He goes wildly quiet for you. Is he expecting for you to elaborate? What does he even want you to say? What were you allowed to say? What did they know? How much information is appropriate over a lunch in a very public area?

You were starting to regret your decision of agreeing to all of this. You hadn't even started and the stress was pulling you down under.

"They're hard to find, even with a full team" he shakes his head amused, "ah can't even imagine what it must've been like hunting them practically all alone."

"I wasn't alone."

He seems surprised. Good.

Kate hadn't told them every detail.

"They were tenacious then; I don't doubt the group wont behave much different this time around. They always end up with the same values, the same goal." You ramble on, catching yourself by biting your tongue.

"What's the goal?" he asks.

"Doomsday preppers in a nutshell, just add a slimy layer of misguided religion on top of it." You finally take a big bite of your food. It slides down your throat slowly, the dryness, or size catching you off-guard.

Soap slides your glass closer to you. "Not new, but also not every day ye see it to this large of an extent."

"It's been organized for years now, they're not likely to stop from a threat from the authorities. Only way is to take out the roots." You mumble on after getting your throat cleared. There were quite a few ways to go about doing that, all of them left an acidic taste in your mouth.

You could see the way he wanted to ask more. He should refrain, wait for it all to be revealed in proper time instead of probing you for information in an informal interrogation. A quite nice one at that.

You had yet to decide on how close you wanted to get to him.

John MacTavish, Soap.

He was a sergeant, chatty nature, one for jokes, witty, smart. A person worthy to note, despite rebellious appearances.

The captain had yet to earn your respect, and likewise yours his. He was impressive on all accounts. He would also be the first person to throw you off this mission at a sign of weakness. Valuable in its own right.

Kyle was indifferent towards you, a bit cold perhaps, though he seemed a gentleman when it came down to it.

Ghost was......Simon.

You didn't know what you expected when you met Simon again. He's a lot more different than you thought he would be. Taking on the persona of Ghost, you suppose you can't blame him for needing an escape, but the motif still stirs something awful in your chest. Neither of you really got over it.

Maybe you'd have preferred it if he wasn't so aloof with you, a bit more direct in your long-awaited reunion. Perhaps it would have been better if it had mimicked TV, the rain and yelling and screaming in a scenic location to make it more meaningful to you. Unfortunately, reality tends to be far more boring.

"So did he always wear that mask?"

"Ghost? Aye, as long as I've known the bastard," he chuckles "can ask Price about before that, he's known 'im the longest."

There's a pang in your heart, something that feels an awful lot like a drop jealousy, but you can't allow that. It wouldn't be one bit fair. If you were the one to walk away from him then, were you really allowed to feel anything at all for him? Certainly not jealousy over the new relationships he'd build. You should be happy, you really should.

But how dare he abandon you so fast.

You shake your head free of the feeling. Wrongful, wishful, thinking wouldn't change the truth nor the fact he was supposedly better off here.

"Known him long?"

"Ever since we got assigned on this taskforce, give or take a few years now. And Ye?"

"Old acquaintances."

There's another sting in your heart that burns something fierce. All the nights you had spent wishing you were still in contact with him coming back to you. Times when it felt like a single word from him would make life worth living again. A single glance from him could make it worth anything.

You tried to ignore that bit.

But the mask had a symbolism you didn't like any better. You'd only be arrogant to think or claim that you still knew him and his thoughts, but it was still distasteful. Had he forgotten? You had both ran from it, difference was he now wore it on his face and you watched it creep in the shadows.

You had always hated the cold streaks in first signs of winter. When the temperature went freezing, the trees losing their colour, the sun hiding more often now behind threatening clouds. However still no snow. All the unfortunate parts with none of the benefits.

And standing on Simon's freezing front porch didn't help. He was taking too long. It had been half a minute since you rung the doorbell. Where the hell was he? His parents were supposed to be out, and despite his little brother still being home, the two of you would take any opportunity you could take.

You wrap your jacket closer around you. The biting frost nipping at your cheeks and nose. For a moment you debate whether you should ring the bell again, but you remember his words clear, he had told you to just go in, even if it felt wrong to do that without a formal invitation straight from the door.

You hadn't been here too many times. Some part of yourself too scared that the smell of smoke would sting your clothes, and that your parents would know exactly where you had been. You needed to be careful, one wrong decision and they'd forbid you from seeing him again.

You aren't sure if you could handle that.

The door creeks when you open it, too loud for your taste. It makes you grimace. You try calling out for him, to no response. There's a smell of freshly baked bread, likely at the hands of his mum.

A smile tugs on your lips, your stomach twisting hungrily in your body. Hurriedly you kick off your shoes, and hang up your jacket, emerging in the home's living room. For a moment you wonder if anyone is even home, it feels cold from the lack of interaction.

"Simon?" it's not like him to leave you alone like that. Was he even home?

You tiptoe towards the hallway peeking down the dark way. When you stare too long, the shadows move occasionally, takes shape like moving smoke. Another time you softly call his name, slowly coming up to Simon's and his brother’s bedroom.

It's cracked open very slightly, the shine of light coming from the slit. It illuminates the dying flowers placed neatly on a bookshelf. You move to open the door, but before you can get there, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

The hairs on the back of your neck rise, the subtle warm breath from someone else hitting your skin. It felt wrong, and in the back of your mind you knew who it was, what he was doing. You whipped around, the fear having already seeped into your eyes. You were ready to shield yourself, stare into the tall figure that looked like the personification of death.

The scream that erupted from your lungs, weren't only of fear but also from genuine shock. The figure wasn't tall like you had expected, instead you had to glance downwards to meet the eyes behind a white skull mask. You stumble backwards, crashing your body against the door and falling all the way down to the floor.

The boy stands above you, a fit of psychotic little giggles come from him which make your stomach churn with disgust. He holds a butterknife in his hand. It's the only reason you haven't gotten up yet as you stare at his display, trying to mimic his father.

"Tommy what are you doing!" you shout out offended. You hope it covers the tinge of fear you carry. In no universe should Simon's little brother look like this, in no world should he be able to scare you this badly.

The antsy sensation isn't just from the initial surprise, it swirls in your blood at the sight of a raised knife. It doesn't matter that it isn't sharp, it doesn't even matter that it's not directly pointed at you.

It makes you remember. The late nights, the early mornings, the fights that took place within your own home. The list of threats you'd heard, you could recite them as clear as your favourite quote from your favourite book.

"Tommy...put down the knife." You don't hear the tremble in your voice but he does. He tilts his head; a line of light falls over the skull mask. His eyes are illuminated beneath it, they carry nothing but distaste for you.

He's never liked you. You were fine with that, but this is just too far. Where was Simon anyway!? If Tommy was home then he should be as well, maybe even his mother if anything at all.

Like a saving grace, an angel sent from the heavens, you hear his uncertain voice call out shakily.

"Tommy what are you doing, give that to me."

Simon pulls you even closer to his form, your legs shift from how you're sitting halfway into his lap. He had practically forced you this close when you started to complain about the cold. Not that you minded the proximity itself.

"Are you sure we can't just lock a room, so he won't disturb us?" You nuzzle closer into his side. A big breath exits your lungs, it rises upwards like a little cloud. His arm pulls your jacket closer around, his hand settling on your waist to give you a little squeeze.

"We're fine here," he mumbles into your hair "got you all to myself."

"I know," you say exasperated "it's just why would he do that...it's not...its..."

You don't know how to formulate your words right. It's hard to explain exactly what you saw from your perspective on the floor. A terrifying display you never want to see on Tommy's innocent face again. That look was reserved for his father, not that you were any happier seeing it on him either.

"He's been acting up...mood swings and all that" Simon sighs and shakes his head. "He's done it to me too a few times when mom and dad are fighting...I... don’t understand it. Even when dad brought that snake in, he was all giddy...I don't think he really understands," Simon confesses.

"Wait, what snake?!" you manage to pull yourself away from his arms. You stay close in his hold to keep sharing body heat, but you raise yourself on your knees so you're looking down at his face. "Your dad brought a snake into your home, to you, and he just laughed?" you sounded pissed off, and rightfully so you were. He'd never told you this before now.

"Yeah, were years ago now but..." he raises a hand, his thumb brushing over to dull marks above his lips "it bit me."

Your eyebrows furrow and you have to hold yourself back from not yelling out in frustration. You bite down on your own lip hard, and reach a hand up to gently run your fingers over the two scars in the form of dots. He closes his eyes as he feels your skin on his, let's out a shuddering breath. He always gets like this now at your touch, he always seems so affected, always positively.

In the beginning you thought it was just hormones, puberty for him now that you're both well into your teenage years. A round of "Boys will be boys," as your mother would keep saying whenever you told her how you saw the boys at school pick on the girls in the most horrendous ways.

Simon's a boy but you've never seen him be that cruel. And then you started to think it might just be you he's like this with, that to anyone else, any other girl or boy that gets close never gets to see him have this kind of reaction.

He opens his eyes and your breath catches in your throat with an ugly little sound. It makes you snort, giggling into your hand as you listen to his rumble of a chuckle. His arms snake around your waist, bring you in closer, pressing your bodies up against each other as much as can be.

He looks up at you like you're the only person in the world.

Like you're everything to him, as if you were to go his world would collapse around him. And you know it's true because you feel the same way. If he were to ever leave, you wouldn't know how to function, you wouldn't have an escape from the abuse, a person to keep you afloat when you're drowning.

You lean down a little to place a soft peck just above his lips, on the dotted scars.

You're not sure what true love is, but if you'll ever have a chance at it, it has to be this. There can be no other explanation for that glint in his eye reserved only for you.

He looks at you with pure love.

Soap looks at you expectantly. The dull sounds of the mess hall fill your ears again, you didn't even realize you zoned out. You only pray it wasn't for an unusually long time.

"We knew each other way back, before he joined the military I think." You try your best to play it off as not a big deal. As if you hadn't been in deep with him once upon an easier time. You doubted Simon would want to bring more attention to it than necessary when it came to his teammates.

"Before? Woah, can finally say ah know someone who knew the legendary ghost before he became ghost." He sounds pleased with himself. You don't understand the difference.

Like speaking of the devil himself, the tall dark figure with a mask you wanted to rip off him, emerged into the hall. It didn't turn many heads, but the way you whipped your head dramatically brought Soap's attention to him as well.

"Well...speak of the devil..." he mumbled. You could hear the smile on his lips without looking.

It's a bit late to come in for lunch, but when you think about it you didn't see him go eat with the others, while you were actively avoiding them. He would always retreat into his own room or office, like you would do.

Both you and Soap watches as he goes up to select what his lunch will be. Occasionally you glance towards Soap, observing his interest in Simon, you try to gouge at their relationship. They'd likely be good friends, having a soldier camaraderie for years now. It made you wonder if Soap would now qualify as one to know more about the boy you used to be so close with, than you do yourself.

You look back to Simon, trying to get a proper glimpse of his mask again. You have to bite back an annoyed groan when they flood your vision again.

The shadows encompass his mask all around. They block out the once dirty white with a coal black. It moves around like a mass, obscuring his face, his head taking on spiky ends, then blocky, then smooth. It makes him look like the creatures in the mirrors, the only thing left being the uncanny clear view of his eyes.

They're so visible to you that they freak you out more than the moving shadows, looking straight out of an uncomfortable picture you'd find on the internet. When he finally picks up his food and turns to your direction, your breath catches in your throat with an ugly little sound.

Soap looks at you concerned, but you wave him off quickly taking a big gulp of your water.

You look back to see exactly what you thought it was. You'd recognize that look on him anywhere from just his eyes. People say eyes are the windows to someone's soul, you don't know if you believe it for everyone else or even yourself, your eyes look so dull in the mirror, but for Simon it's the truest statement you've heard.

Despite the time apart, that look is burned into your retinas. It's been an image you clung to over the years, you last remnant of him, something to remind you of what you once had.

And he's looking towards you, like he used to do.

He's looking towards you with an expression you haven't seen in person in years.

He's looking towards you with a look of love you'd never think you'd see on his face again.

He's looking towards you with such devotion that someone like you doesn't deserve from someone like him.

You realize it too late. You glance away from Simon and look to the man sitting in front of you

He looks at you with pure love.

He's not looking at you.

Are you seriously jealous over a man you haven't seen in years?

You know it's pathetic. You know it's nonsensical. You know you shouldn't.

Yet you pace back and forth in your room, the shadows louder than they've ever been in months. They corner you in on every side, lunge out at you when you get too close to the walls. Their thousand little voices overlap in a chorus of insults.

Vile, pathetic, weak, useless, killer.

Your hands raise up to cover your ears but it does nothing to dampen the intensity. Your clothes feel too tight on your body, the air too humid, a certain place in the room burning hot with agony and shame. The little space under your bed. The bag with the letters that once brought you comfort.

They burn hot even from a distance. A rush of hot and cold going through your bloodstream. Ice beneath your skin one moment and boiling blood the next.

Did he ever even look at you like that? Wasn't it different back then? He had the dumb puppy love for you none of that was real.

"Shut up," your voices breaks in your throat and comes out a meek whisper.

Just take a look at those pathetic letters.

"No..."

Each one of them so much later than the next. Spaced out perfectly to leave you in the dark, first a week then two then a month then two months then...

"Shut it!" you shout out with the animalistic ferocity you've been taught. The shadows retract slightly, giving you more room to breathe. Normally you try to ignore the voices that go through your head, you've found answering them only encourage their absurd bait. They could taunt you all they wanted. Voices instilled by vile men in your life, repeated over and over and over and over and over.

Until they manifested themselves within your skull and refused to leave.

In a way you know the things you are seeing aren't real, but it feels so solid. All of it just your fragmented mind trying to make sense of what you were forced to see. None of it could be real.

Sometimes you think that you could actually reach out and touch them, but anytime you've tried they just retract further away from you. You've always hated how it swims in your vision, distracts you from what's actually important.

You look towards the bed, under it, the bag, the letters that almost flood out of it from where you've thrown it. They call to you, scream at you so silently. Your legs are sluggish like walking through water as they carry you there. Your fingers touching what feels like knives as you pull out the nearest letter.

The little piece of paper he left on your bed before he left for the military.

You read quietly, the whisper barely even audible on your lips.

To my love, my dear little spider

I'm sorry that I have to go. Don't fall apart without me, okay?

See you soon, your Simon

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Taglist: @chickennn-soupp @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @lilynotdilly @islnd-vybz @spicyspicyliving @kaoyamamegami

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cowboydisaster · 1 year

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes

part IX: horseshoe overlook v

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

summary: Three days after watching Arthur fall, three days of grief, three days of regret, and it all comes crashing down on you in one bittersweet moment.

a/n: here we are fellas... a much awaited chapter, technically the second half of last chapter. Star waits three days at the bank of the river... and so I've made you wait three days too. I want to say a few things so if you're sticking around to read the notes buckle up. Firstly I could absolutely not have done this chapter without Margo (linked below). She literally held my hand through writing this lol, and offered me more support, kindness, and praise than I deserve. She gave me so many tips and ideas and suggestions for this and I'm just so proud of the way it turned out, thanks to her. This was a group effort for sure. Secondly, I'm still in shock from the level of support this series has been getting. Its just incredible to see how many people come back so consistently. Last but not least, I love you guys, really I do. And I can't wait to see what you guys have to say about this chapter.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, violence

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

It's been three days, searching the banks, knowing that he won't be back, won't be coming home. You saw him hit the water, and he didn't come back up. A fall like that is barely survivable. You know he's gone and it isn't until you allow yourself to think it that you break. All that you should have told him, should have opened up about and you didn't. You didn't. And now Arthur will never know any of it.

Arthur is gone, and he left thinking that you didn’t want him. You hate yourself, for your inability to open up and you hate him for this whole job. You told him you didn’t feel right about it but no one listened. Now he's gone and you're so mad, so angry with the world and your heart and him.

It's pouring, thundering and lightning in the dark night and you've started to accept that he isn't coming back. In your head you know it, it's all you've thought about. You know he's gone, he's never returning to you, but your anger keeps you from returning to camp because what is the gang to you without Arthur? Can you really go back there and live with his ghost?

The rain pounds down on the top of your tent, falling down and drenching the ground. Lightning lights up the night, showcasing to you the dark, empty lake. John had come by a day ago, and when you realized he was alone your heart shattered all over again. It's a strange thing, you realize, to love someone but never have the courage to admit it until it's too late. Thinking back, you know you loved Arthur, it's obvious, but you couldn't admit it at the time. It took losing him to realize how much you need him. You don't know who you are, here now, without him. You belong nowhere, you have nothing, you want nothing other than him.

You think about going up north, up to West Elizabeth for a while, but you can't bring yourself to leave the shore just in case. You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. You've been sitting in this tent at night haunted by ghosts and regrets, and surveying the lake in the day, futile as it may be. You know you need to do something, to go somewhere other than this damn shore, but you're lost. Your head tells you to run, but your heart tells you to go back to those who care about you.

Arthur cared about you. And it's sick, and it's twisted but you're so mad at him for your feelings, so mad that he cared about you so much because it made losing him that much harder.

Lost in thought, you don't even hear the footsteps as they approach the tent, nor do you hear Balius's quiet nicker. The rain doesn't help, coming down along with thunder that shakes the ground. You don't even notice his presence until he speaks up.

"Star?"

Everything stops. Your eyes go wide, and immediately fill with tears at the familiar, gravelly voice that you haven't been able to get out of your head for three days. At first you're sure you're imagining it, losing your mind, until he speaks up again.

"Star? Y'in there?" He asks again, and too shocked and confused to speak, you crawl out of the tent. Your eyes land on him as you stand in the rain and you freeze, mouth agape. He looks… he looks fine. And you take a step back as the emotion of it all comes crashing down. At first you're shocked and confused, and then you're relieved… and then you're mad. Because you spent three days thinking he was dead, and he's standing in front of you washed up in a brand new outfit with a smile on his face. The rain soaks in your clothes, drenching you as you try to breathe.

"Where have you been?!" You cry out, full of emotion and fear and rage. Arthur sees it all playing out on your face, and his eyebrows draw together.

"What-" He begins but you interrupt him.

"Why are you walking up here like everythings just fine? Where were you?!" You half cry- half hiss, thinking of all the time you'd spent scanning the water, waiting for his body to wash up.

"Swam down the river and hid out for a couple days till the bounty hunters lost me." Arthur sighs like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "What's the matter wit you?"

Arthur isn't used to having someone to return to. No one asks or complains if Arthur comes back late from a job, he's never had anyone care so much as to worry for him like this- he's just not used to it.

You huff, a humorless, sarcastic laugh.

"So you were just hidin' out?" You ask as a loud boom of thunder shakes the ground.

"Yeah." Arthur huffs, irritated with your attitude. Your tone is angry, condescending and sarcastic as you continue on. Tears fill your eyes, but he can't see them in the dark.

"Well, I'm glad you've been safe all this time." You reach into your tent grabbing his hat before throwing it towards him angrily. "Here's your damn hat. Found it washed up in the river after you fell. Y'know, it would have been nice if you let me know- If you let me know you were just camping, taking a few days off while I've been here!" You yell, fighting back sobs, watching as he grips his soaked hat, growing more confused.

"Star- what is your problem?"

"It doesn't even matter." You toss your hands in the air, chuckling humorlessly. Your hair is soaked through, and Arthur glances to the sky as it lights up with bright white lightning.

"Clearly it does matter! Ain't my fault you can't express your damn feelings!" He yells, growing angry alongside you.

"Oh, that is rich coming from you. Like you can?!" You immediately bite back, voice growing louder as you step closer to him.

"Yeah! I can, with you! I told you about my past, about my son and my parents and Mary! And I know nothing- I know nothing about you- what you want, where you've been." Arthur yells louder than the thunder, pointing his finger in your face as he does so, "You won’t open up and it's killing you. God- what are you so afraid of?! What's holdin’ you back? It's eating at you and you won't just deal with it SO WHAT IN THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLE-"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" You yell, stepping forward with your shoulders squared, meeting him with just as much aggression. You're so angry with him, for the train and for coming back like nothing happened. Your anger gets the better of you as you lean forward, hands pressed against his chest and you shove him backwards with all the fire you can muster, growling as you do. He stumbles backwards, eyebrows drawn together as you ball your fists, ready to scream at him, to berate him for leaving you out here. But at the thought, something in your heart cracks, and the fire and the rage pales in comparison to the fear of losing him.

A loud boom of lightning sounds out, and Arthur prepares for your inevitable verbal knives with his eyes cast on the ground, but you never throw them.

When he looks back up, your shoulders are rising up and down heavily, and your finger points at him like you're about to chastise him, but you don't. He watches as your shoulders slump slightly, and he sees the way your hand, pointed at him, falters. Glancing up to your eyes, he sees that you're fighting back tears, and biting down on your lip to stop it from trembling.

Exhausted, and terrified and hurting, you can't find it within you anymore to yell. In fact your voice is barely above a whisper as you meet his green eyes,

"I spent days thinking you were dead… Do you have any idea what that was like?"

Arthur sees the moment that you break. He watches as your face crumples, and he sees the pain that you've been going through. God, he didn't even think. He didn't even think. You crumple, erupting into quiet sobs as you hold your face in your hands. In two strides his arms are around you, and you sink into his touch, letting all of the pain and the grief be washed away by the rain.

"I'm so sorry, Star. Shit, I'm so sorry. I'm here. It's okay." He coos, protecting you from the rain with his warmth as you sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him to make sure he's really here.

"John had to pry me away from that bridge…" You choke out, "I thought you were dead and I can't- I can't lose you, please, please don't leave me-" You whimper, feeling more vulnerable than you ever have in your life, but knowing that you trust Arthur with every fiber of your being to be the one to piece you back together. At your words, Arthur's heart shatters, falling to the ground in fragmented pieces along with your own that had fallen apart three days ago. Even with the rain, lightning and the pitch black, he cups your cheeks, pulling your teary eyed gaze up to him.

"Look at me. You aren't alone- look at me, Star- I'm not going anywhere."

And looking into his eyes, seeing him here, you know it's a promise he intends to keep. He's in front of you, he's safe, and having him here is too much and not enough all at once. He's scanning your eyes, searching for something to signal that you're going to be okay, and that's when it happens. With his hands resting on your face, and his eyes searching yours, you lean up on your toes, and you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have in you, ignoring the storm and the pain in your heart. You thought you'd never have the chance to do this. And with him here in front of you, you need him to know that you want him too. You've repressed so much love and so much emotion, and now that he's here in front of you, you can't help but feel it all.

He's shocked at first, eyes open and lips slack until he catches up and leans back into you with just as much emotion. His eyes slip shut, and you curl your hands into his shirt, opening your mouth for him to gain entrance. Your tears slip down your cheeks, mixing in with your lips. It's hungry and raw and filled with the emotion of you terrified of losing him, and needing him in every way possible now that he's here.

You pull away to catch your breath, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look up to him, making sure once again he's still here. He smiles down at you, wiping your cheek with his thumb, smearing the rain and the tears away. And then you're pulling him back down to you, kissing him again with the same hunger, and he kisses you back. His hands grip onto your waist and he pulls you against him as your lips slot against each other. It's him who breaks the kiss this time, and he looks down to your eyes, his green irises searching yours and seeing the intention in your gaze.

"You sure you want this?" He asks you, rain soaking his hair and causing a piece to hang down in front of his face.

"Stop talking." You whisper, barely a breath as you run your fingers through his hair before leaning up to kiss him again. Your hands grip onto him, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue mixes with yours. You need more, you need him. You need to know he's with you.

Arthur seems to read your mind, hands grabbing the underside of your thighs as he pulls you up against him, carrying you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you only break the kiss momentarily as he carries you into the tent. He lays you down on the soft blankets, taking a moment to admire you laid before him in the lantern light. Then he lines your body, leaning over you on his forearms as the storm rages on outside. His lips are on you again, in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where your pulse beats erratically. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and as he kisses you, his left hand unbuttons your shirt.

"You done this before?" Arthur asks, pressing messy kisses to your jawline. He remembers your conversation up in the Grizzlies, and he's almost certain this is new for you. You shake your head.

"No." You admit. You're no saint, but you've never trusted anyone enough to go this far, not before Arthur at least.

He exhales, nodding, but he seems hesitant, his hands slowing on your buttons. You grip either side of face, pulling his attention to you.

"I want it to be you. I need it to be you." You admit, whining as he groans, nodding. He leans back, sitting up in between your legs to shed his clothes. You help, pulling his shirt off of him quickly once the buttons are undone. He's left in just his jeans then, but you stop him from taking them off. You pull him down back over top of you, and he obliges, though a bit confused.

"Kiss me." You plead, and he does. He kisses your lips over and over again, he kisses your neck and your jaw and your forehead while you get used to everything. He wants to do right by you, he wants to do this your way.

You reach your hand down between your bodies as Arthur pops the last button to your shirt. You line your hand along the bulge in his jeans, and you press against it, eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. You smirk, popping the button of his jeans before slipping your hand inside. You wrap your hand around his shaft, feeling how much he wants you.

It's overwhelming, all the feelings he gives you. In every way. He's perfect. Warm and loving, and his tan skin is kissed with freckles all over and he's so beautiful it makes your heart ache.

"I'm ready, but I don't know- How do we do this?" You whisper against Arthur's ear. You're letting him take control, and he nods, kissing your lips softly.

"Let me take care of you, let me be strong for you." He whispers, pulling your shirt over your shoulders and kissing your collarbone until there is a mark. Then he leans down, pulling your dark jeans down over your legs by the waistband, leaving you fully exposed. Once your denims hit the discarded pile of clothes, Arthur leans back, smiling down at you. You can't find it within you to be self conscious, not with the way he's looking at you. You lean up on your elbows, watching him drink you in as he leans up to grip onto your hand.

"You're so beautiful…" He mumbles, eyes trailing up your figure lovingly. He squeezes your hand, and leans down to your right thigh where a messy scar lies, the gunshot wound from Blackwater. He kisses the scarred skin.

"N' so strong." He whispers, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Leaning up to meet him, you crash your lips against his own, trying to shove his jeans down off his form. He chuckles, leaning back to shed the denim. Now both fully undressed, he stops, looking over you again. Your wet hair is sprawled out on the blankets, lips plump from where he's kissed them. He's sure you're the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"Arthur-" You whimper, pulling him back down to you by his hand. He takes his time warming you up. There's no rush, and you're so glad to just be together.

He places kisses down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, and you chuckle, fingers intertwining into his hair as you pull him back up to your lips.

"Arthur?" You breathe out.

"Hmm?"

"Touch me." You plead, spreading your legs for Arthur. He smiles, running a finger down your thigh as he leans in to kiss your neck. You gasp, feeling his fingers brush against your core. He stops, groaning when he feels how wet you are, the sound cathartic. Then once you wrap your legs around his waist, he resumes his pace. His thumb gently rubs around the small bundle of nerves at your core, and you gasp, gripping onto his shoulders as he continues to kiss your neck. Then as his thumb continues, his middle finger stretches into your tight heat, and your nails dig even deeper into his shoulders.

"Please, just-" You beg, but he stops you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Sweetheart, I gotta take my time. I don't wanna hurt you." He says, and you nod, trusting him. He works his finger in you for a while, curling it up and coaxing little gasps from you. Then, he stretches a second finger into you, and you wince from the pull, but after a while of him working you, it starts to feel good. And shortly you're breathing quickly, ready.

"Perfect." Arthur whispers, sliding his fingers out of you while he presses a kiss to your forehead. His arms flex on either side of your head as he holds himself up, and your legs wrap around his waist as he lines himself up.

"You ready?"

"Yes, yes-" You mumble.

You feel the tip of his length against your entrance, and you spread your legs even further for him. And then he's sliding in, slowly. You gasp loudly, gripping onto him tightly as he thrusts in, slow as to not hurt you.

"S'it hurt? You okay?" Arthur asks, stilling as you toss your head back and pant.

"No- yes-?" You whimper, acclimating to the feeling. You nod, signaling him to continue as the thunder rumbles outside, not nearly as loud as your gasping breaths.

"Oh, Arthur-" You moan as he slides into the hilt, and bumps into your sweet spot. He slides back out partially, and then picks up a slow, steady rhythm. Your body arches beneath him, and you moan, pulling his face down to yours in search of his lips, tears coming in rivulets. He kisses you again, giving you butterflies as he thrusts in and out of you. You grant him access to your mouth then, and when he pulls away to breathe, still thrusting steadily, you whimper, tears running down your cheeks.

"Star?" Arthur asks, worried. And he stills his movements.

"No- don't stop." You beg, pulling his head down into your chest as he resumes his movements.

"I'm so glad you're okay Arthur." You cry, shaking against him as you hold his head against you.

His lips are on yours then, reminding you that he is here with you, safe, loving you.

"I'm right here, darlin'." He reassures, and you nod against him, biting your lip. You can't help the moans that you start to let out, timed with every one of Arthur's thrusts. He runs his thumb over your hard nipple, teasing it and giving you goosebumps. You don't have to worry about the noise, as there is no one to hear you but the raging storm outside. The power of the black clouds, bright lightning and pounding of rain pale in comparison to the crashing together of you and Arthur. Your moans seem to encourage Arthur, and he begins to thrust even harder into you, kissing you in between his movements. You can't keep your hands off of him, running them from his face, pulling his lips to yours or digging them into his shoulders as you gasp and moan.

He feels the same way, gripping your hips, kissing your breasts, and your lips and your neck it's almost too much. You feel yourself approaching an orgasm quickly, but you fight it, clamping down on yourself in an attempt to slow the process. You don't want this moment to end, you could stay here forever with him, and never have to worry about anything else. But your abdomen clenches and you feel your nerves begin to tingle. Arthur isn't oblivious to this, and he runs his thumb over your sensitive bud, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Star, let go." He whispers, lightly biting your earlobe. You shake your head, gripping his shoulders as tight as you can manage. .

"No." You argue, squinting your eyes shut and shaking your head, thighs clamping around him as you try to stop the inevitable.

"Darlin, let go. I told you, I'm not goin' anywhere." He whispers again, and you release, automatically setting off the intense waves of pleasure that crash down over you. You set Arthur over the edge, constricting around him and your moans fill the tent as you arch your back, pulling his lips down to yours. You moan into his mouth, hips rocking against his own as you climax, feeling so close to him and so intimate and vulnerable. You never knew it could be such a beautiful thing.

He begins to groan loudly in your ear, and you pull him down to you as you continue to rock and moan against him. Your grip on him tightens, and you're not sure whether or not he's planning on pulling out, but you don't want him to. You need him with you. Your legs wrap even tighter around him and he gets the message. A few stuttering breaths later and Arthur groans, grinding his hips against you as he finishes in you, lips pressing kisses to your own between heavy groans and breaths.

His forehead falls against yours, resting there as he catches his breath. You do too, still clinging to him in every way possible. After a few moments, he presses a slow kiss to your forehead, and then slides out of you. You wince from the pull, but once he lies down on the blankets beside you, he pulls you into the crook of his arm and covers you with the blanket. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by his heart beat after the past three days.

"You okay?" Arthur asks, running his hand up and down your back over the blanket. You nod, truthfully.

"I think I'm better than I've been in a long time." You admit. Arthur leans up on his elbow, grabbing your canteen from his side of the tent.

"Here." He offers you the water, and you take it willingly, sipping down some of the cool liquid before handing it back to him.

You cuddle down against his chest again, hand sprawled out on his stomach as he looks up at the ceiling, thinking.

"We gotta talk about this. Please, don't close up again, not now." Arthur says, worried that come morning you'll close yourself off again. You nod. Truly, you have no intention of hiding anymore, not after tonight. But for now you don't want to talk, you just want to be with him.

"In the morning?" You ask, tucking yourself into his side, yawning.

"Yeah, in the morning." He whispers, and you lean up, pressing one last, slow kiss to his lips. He chuckles as you toss your leg over his, formed tightly against him.

"Arthur?" You ask, not meeting his eyes.

"Hmm?" He asks, hand still running up and down your back while the other holds yours tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay." You say again, a tear falling down your cheek and getting lost against his chest hair. You draw stars on his bare skin, distracting yourself as he wraps the blanket tighter around you both, protecting you from the thunder outside.

"I know, sweetheart. S'alright now, you just get some sleep."

Everything seems to make sense now, like it's finally fallen into place. You grip onto his hand, holding it as you start to drift off to sleep. You're his grief, his joy, everything he desires and loves. And you feel the same about him. You've denied yourself this for so long, that finally having it happened in one big collision. You wouldn't change it, lying here with him now. You know you have to talk about this, and you have to get Arthur back to camp, but it's all a problem for tomorrow. Right now it is about the two of you, just existing together for the first time.

— — — —

When you begin to wake up, it takes you a few moments to come to your surroundings. Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes squinting to block out the harsh sunlight that is filtering through the tent flap. There is a strong, steady warmth underneath you, and realizing your surroundings, you smile. Your head is laying on Arthur’s chest, legs still intertwined and hands still locked together under the blankets from the night before. Arthur's other hand runs soothingly up and down your bare back, and you prop your chin on his chest to look at him.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, voice deep and groggy.

"Real good." You hum, telling the truth. You've slept in the same bed as Arthur on a handful of occasions, but you've never been able to do so as openly as now. You've never woken up so content before, even with the residual ache in your hips. It's a good ache, a reminder of where Arthur had touched you, binded his body to yours in the most intimate of ways.

"I'm sorry that I just… jumped you last night." You whisper with a chuckle, fingers running down Arthur's chest, tracing through the sandy blonde hair there.

"Do you regret it?" Arthur asks, looking down at you sprawled over his chest. Immediately, you shake your head.

"No. Not at all." You say truthfully. Even though the circumstances around your crashing together were less than ideal, you don't regret it even for a moment.

"Good." Arthur hums, smiling down at you.

It grows quiet for a while, comfortably so. You listen to the birds and the river, but mostly Arthur's steady breathing, and you realize that you could lie here with him forever. You thought you'd lost him, and now that he's here, you can't bring yourself to let go for fear that he will disappear again. At the thought, you realize that you've not discussed what happens now, and a question forms on your lips. Your hand is still intertwined with Arthur's, and you play with his fingers as you speak up.

"I reckon I already know the answer to this… but this was more than just sex right?" You ask, a little nervous. You're almost certain this is an emotional commitment, but your anxiety still prods at you. Arthur cracks a smile, bringing your wrist up to his lips before tenderly kissing the point where your pulse beats.

"Yes," He laces his fingers back with your own, "I'm all yours darlin', if you'll have me."

"Always." You whisper, ear pressed against his chest. The rhythmic pounding of his heart is a sound you can't get enough of as you slip your eyes closed, still reassuring yourself that he's here.

"We gotta head back soon," You sigh, "I know John is worried sick. I'm sure everyone else is too." You whisper, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest for keeping John in the dark while you'd kept Arthur to yourself all night.

"Just a few more minutes." Arthur counters, wrapping his arms around your waist. His thumb glides over your lower back, and you look up to see him lost in his head again.

"Why did you stay out here? Why didn't you go back to camp with the others?" Arthur asks, propping his hand under his head to look at you.

"How could I have left you? I didn't know if you were alive, I didn't think you were, god- that fall… but the thought of you hurt somewhere, or needing help, I couldn't just leave." You whisper, emotion bubbling up again at the thought of his fall. You don't bother to hide it anymore, even though your nature wants you to.

"I can't stop seeing it, Arthur. I've never been that scared in my life." You admit.

"It was a hell of a fall, I'll tell you that. Hurt like hell hittin' the water too. I didn't even know if I was alive, the water turned me around real bad and then I was on the shore of the Upper Montana River." He explains, eyes lost in the memory, "Hid out for a while and I heard the law whistles so I stole a horse n' ran to Strawberry. I was so worried about you… I didn't see you get away."

"Cause I didn't." You whisper, "John had to pull me away from the bridge. Athena carried me here and I sat in the grass the rest of the night just… waiting for you," You take a deep breath, a loose tear slipping down your cheek, "and then your hat washed up, and I was sure you weren't coming back."

You can't shake it. Every time you bring up the bridge it all comes rushing back.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't come back to you." Arthur hums, feeling terribly guilty as he sits up in the tent. You sit up next to him, pulling a blanket around your shoulders to cover your breasts.

"Well, you're here now." You whisper, teary eyes looking into his. He shakes his head, and you see the regret in his eyes.

"I shouldn't have called you a hypocrite. That was unfair of me." Arthur says, and your hand reaches up to his cheek, running through the thick stubble there.

"No, you were right. That's somethin' I've thought about a lot the past few days, somethin' I plan on workin' on." You say, "And, Arthur, I shouldn't have gone through your journal."

Arthur huffs, humorously.

"S'all you anyway." Arthur admits, and your eyebrows pull together, not understanding.

"My journal. It's all you." He reiterates and you smirk.

And then he's pulling you into his lap, unable to keep his hands off you now that he's able to touch you like this.

"We have to go." You chuckle as Arthur runs his thumb over the purple splotches on your collarbone. His lips are on your jawline in a heartbeat, pressing slow, languid kisses to it.

"They can wait." He whispers against your skin, thumbs gripping onto your bare hips as the blanket slips down from your shoulders. You lean into his kisses, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, something you've denied yourself for so long.

Your stomach grumbles lightly, and Arthur slowly leans back, raising an eyebrow at you.

"You eaten anything?" He asks, and you sigh.

"No." You admit, sighing as he slides you down off of his lap.

"C'mon, let me make you breakfast."

"Didn't think you were the type; cookin' a girl breakfast the morning after." You chuckle as Arthur starts plucking your wet clothes up off the floor, tossing them in a useless heap.

"Yeah, well… only for you." Arthur huffs, grabbing your saddlebag from his side of the tent.

"You got any other clothes? These are drenched from the rain." Arthur asks, nodding to your outfit from last night. You nod, searching through the bag until you find a decent outfit. You grab a pair of black jeans and a white long sleeved shirt and you pair it with a tight black vest and a choker-style neckerchief, it's a damn cute outfit.

“Alright, go on and get breakfast ready, I’m starvin.” You joke, pulling your shirt over your arms and buttoning it from the bottom up. Arthur laughs, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he groans, getting himself dressed for the day.

He makes a little fire out front, and you smile, sitting at the entrance of the open tent as he prods and pokes at the smoldering logs with a stick. He puts on a little pot of coffee, and pulls a few cans from his satchel.

“It ain’t much, but it’s what we got.” Arthur says, stabbing his knife into the top of one of the cans and cutting away the seal. He hands it out to you then, and you smile at the label. Strawberries, another delicious treat that Arthur had stashed away in his bag.

“It’s perfect.” You hum, slipping your fingers into the can and pulling out one of the berries. Today proves to be the calm after the storm, and despite the rain that soaks into the ground, covering the grass in a mist, the day is beautiful. The sun shines brightly down onto you and Arthur, sipping your coffees and making quiet, comfortable conversation. One by one, eating the berries, you begin to feel replenished. Not having eaten for the past three days, too devastated to even move, you devour your whole can of strawberries, and then you pick at Arthur’s. It breaks his heart a little, seeing how you’ve deprived yourself of basic needs in his absence, but he says nothing. You squint your eyes shut, relishing in the warm bitterness of your coffee until you’ve drunk it all down.

“Thank you.” You say, placing the empty cup on the ground next to the empty cans, “For everything.”

“Course.” Arthur smiles, standing from the ground with a groan. He picks up the trash, and you raise an eyebrow at him as he tosses it into the woods. In just a matter of one night he’s managed to piece you back together, both physically and emotionally. It’s a debt you’ll owe him forever, though you know he’ll ask for nothing in return.

“Star?” Arthur asks, looking at the tent as you stand from it, packing up, “This John’s tent?” He asks, looking over the familiar dark camping kit, one that he’s pitched his own next to on many occasions while out working.

Your eyes go wide and you snort, remembering that John had left you his camping kit back when you’d told him you planned on staying by the river.

“Oh my god-” You say, horrified, “We’ll have to get him a new one.”

Arthur chuckles, amused as he brings the tent down and starts packing it up with the blankets.

“Nah, he won’t know.” Arthur brushes it off, snickering to himself.

“Arthur-” You chastise, jaw open slightly as he rolls everything up and ties it onto the back of Balius. Arthur says nothing, a smirk on his lips as he walks to the front of his scarred shire, petting his head.

“Missed ya, boy. I hope you took real good care of the lady while I was gone, I know you did.” Arthur whispers to his stallion, patting his neck a few times while pulling some mints from his saddle bag. He gives Balius one, and then looks back to you, blushing at the smile on your lips from his whispering.

“Ready?” He asks, gripping the horn of his saddle.

“As I’ll ever be.” You sigh, kicking dirt into the fire before mounting onto Athena, patting her in thanks for getting you across the river all those days ago.

You wonder what happens now. When you return to camp will Arthur showcase your newfound relationship?- If that's what you’re calling it, that is. You don’t know if things will slip back into their usual routine, or if this will change everything. You’re not ready for the gawking, hushed whispers of the girls, or the disapproving glare of Dutch. Though it's nonsensical, you feel that everyone will know what happened out here, and you feel terribly selfish for spending the night with Arthur when his own family didn’t even know he was alive. Still, you don’t regret it.

Trotting across the river back towards Horseshoe Overlook, back towards home, you glance up ahead. Arthur is in front of you leading the way, and you release a breath, letting all of the worry and the guilt fall from your shoulders and be lost in the river. Because no matter what faces you back at camp, he's with you now, by your side with no intentions of leaving. You'll face it together.

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