#granted the first time she was my absolute favorite so she had a really long way to fall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thedreamlessnights · 8 months ago

Note

Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so

Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!

For Your Eyes Only

Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.

You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it.

The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing.

Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.

What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.

Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long.

The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.

A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.

Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”

Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path.

“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”

“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”

“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”

And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.

“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel.

You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face.

Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.

When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.

“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.

“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”

Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch.

“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”

“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”

But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.

Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now.

“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”

“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.

“Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.”

Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same.

Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.

“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”

By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel.

The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”

It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best.

Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.

The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too.

You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees.

Nothing. You find nothing.

“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”

“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?”

He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”

“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”

A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”

Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.”

“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”

“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”

The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.

“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.

“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”

“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”

You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud.

“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.

You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.

Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.

When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything.

Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”

But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound.

Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.

Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?

Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.

In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”

Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood.

“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”

Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”

“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?”

Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”

He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.

There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.

When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.

The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision.

You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?

Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.

“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”

You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.

“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.

He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.

He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.

Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind.

You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.

He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething.

And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.

After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief.

You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.

“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”

He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps.

You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him.

After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck.

Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.

One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.

When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.

Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.

“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”

“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.

“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”

“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.

And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.

You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it.

Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.

He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.

He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.

And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-

And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”

Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”

He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”

You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”

He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”

He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-

Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand.

You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.

Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again.

He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot.

For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.

You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.

“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”

And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.

“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.

“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment.

You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements.

Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.

You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble.

If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire.

He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.

Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”

You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.

“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”

Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals.

His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.

You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”

And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.

You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.

You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.

“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”

And, gods, all you can do is laugh.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #mywriting

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mascdestr0yer · 5 months ago

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You knew

Paige x Fem!reader

Warnings: angst, overuse of italics

Synopsis: Paige uses your voice mail box often,

Paige’s head was pounding from all— well it’s not like she was crying anymore. she physically couldn’t, it’s been four months, four absolutely long months.

She should be dizzy by the amount of times she’s changed spots in her bed, her floor. Now the blonde laid on her back, the cold floor making her skin jump.

She subconsciously picked her phone, calling the ‘wifeyy’ contact, something you laughed almost every time you saw it. Mainly because paige didn’t put a ring on it. she brought the phone to her ear, her heart pounding as if it were going to explode.

“hey baby.. i’m sorry i didn’t come see you today, i know i was supposed too, i just-i was busy, i promise,” her voice was trembling, she weakly tried to reassure you, more herself than you. she felt pathetic, four months and she still couldn’t see you.

All she was capable of doing was picking up her phone, to call. “fuck-i’m sorry, i’m so sorry..” Now she could cry, the numbness fading. “you probably don’t even want to listen to my constant crying in your voicemail, i just, i really need you right now.”

she paused, trying to recollect herself. “i went to the beach today, felt weird but, also refreshing in a way, wish you were there to see it,” the way her snot ran down her nose made her feel even more pathetic than she did. she wiped it with the sleeves of her sweater.

“i’m getting tired, i’ll see you tomorrow..i promise, i love you.”

The trees were beginning to change in their appearance into the fiery version of themselves. Autumn, you’re favorite season,fillied with gilmore girls, shopping, and watching movies with you girlfriend.

Paige stood in the cool and crisp air of fall, her fingers toying with the stems of the bouquet she bought you. she crouched down and she put the flowers in the vase, she stuck it in the grass.

she sat down on the grass, “hey pretty girl, i’m sorry i didn’t come sooner,”

she hated this, she hated coming home to you guy’s now empty apartment, she hated how she could only only see you in photos and oh how she hated she couldn’t hear your voice anymore.

It was unfair, she wants you, she needs you, why weren’t you there to comfort her.

To be honest, paige like felt she didn’t deserve you at times, maybe took you for granted. It’s like everything and anything she’s said or did to hurt you, even by accident, popped in her head the moment she got that call during practice.

you were too good for the world, you just had to go somewhere else.

She couldn’t even eat nor sleep, the first month of you not being there. how could you, you promised you would fight for her, why lie when you knew..

you knew

you knew fighting wasn’t helping, so you lied.

“i know it’s too late but, i can’t bring myself to sell it nor wear it,” she placed ring on the cold tombstone. “i had it made specifically for you, i was planning to do it on your birthday, I..”

and the funny this is,

i would’ve married you

if you’d have stuck around

How could she go on with out you, she felt so empty and selfish. she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Paige stood up, she then looked at your picture, her eyes were burning. “i love you, y/n, always.”

#millie talks❀*̥˚#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #wlw #paige bueckers x reader #drabble #fluff #uconn wcbb #uconn #paige bueckers headcannon #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige fans #paige buckets #paige x reader

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supernovafics · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟏)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 9.4k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), explicit language, some angst

author’s note: i had the idea for this lil two part mini series (and have been working on it on and off) for like a thousand years at this point and i'm so glad and excited that it's finally free from the jail cell that is my google docs lol. i really really wanted to finish this and have it up before this year was over, so part two is coming new year's eve<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time in the past two weeks, you were early. Granted it was only by two minutes, but you still counted that as a win.

You stepped out of your car and headed to where the other parents were on the sidewalk, waiting for school to be over and the kids to come out. You inwardly ran through the list of things that you still had to do today— on a Friday that should’ve been calm, but instead, it had been pretty hectic.

It felt like pure luck that you were able to step away from your coffee shop for thirty minutes to pick up Oliver from school. God bless Jude for being willing to take over the rush that was happening. She was your favorite employee, and you knew that she definitely deserved a raise for being able to effectively keep up with the insanity that the last two weeks brought.

That transition from summer into the beginning of the new school year was harder than you had anticipated, and you knew it was mainly because this time last year you weren’t running a business full-time when Oliver had been starting Kindergarten. Instead, the coffee shop was still just an idea, a dream, that felt like it solely lived in your head; even though it had actually been in its final stages, and with each passing day, you only got closer and closer to that October opening date. And when the long-awaited opening finally came, it actually didn’t alleviate an ounce of your stress; instead, it was only increased practically tenfold.

You’d never say it out loud for fear of being deemed as a bad mom, but it was so fucking hard juggling everything and trying to handle it all.

However, somehow, you were doing it and you were actually doing it pretty well. Although at most times it felt like you were so close to drowning, for the time being, your head was completely above water.

You kept running through your mental to-do list as you waited for the time to go from 2:29pm to 2:30pm, indicating the official end of the school day.

Call the vendors that supply the coffee beans and teas and see if they can change the next delivery date, finalize the work schedule for next week, prep the ingredients for the pastries that will be baked tomorrow—

Your eyes instinctively went to check the time on your watch right as the first handful of kids came barreling out of the front doors.

When you saw Olly, you waved until his eyes landed on you and he immediately smiled.

Suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the time and the rest of the shit that you needed to do throughout the day.

“I made a new friend!” Were the first words he said to you when he came over to where you stood.

“That’s awesome!” You kneeled down so that you were pretty much at eye level with him. Hearing him say that made your heart feel so happy. You knew how shy he could be and he rarely ever talked about any kids that he was friends with, especially not with this much enthusiasm. “Who is it?”

“Maddie,” He answered and then pointed in the direction of where you assumed the girl was standing.

There were a handful of kids standing with their parents in the direction Olly was pointing to about ten or fifteen feet away, but when he further specified that she was “the girl holding the blue lunchbox,” you saw her. A girl with brown hair who was smiling at her dad who was smiling back at her and holding a hand up so that she could give it a high five.

You recognized him immediately.

In your mind, his name was “the worst person in the world.” In reality, his name was Steve Harrington.

You didn’t really pay attention to him until this past January because your kids weren’t in the same Kindergarten class. You actually didn’t even learn that he was the only other single parent in the grade until then.

It was one of your New Year’s resolutions to become more active and involved in school activities, PTA meetings, etc. Mainly because you knew that the other Kindergarten moms were judging you for barely doing anything aside from the occasional bake sale and the school was way too small for you to slip under the radar and not be noticed; those moms noticed everything.

Therefore, on the first meeting back after the Winter holiday break, you were there— five minutes late, but there nonetheless. Although, it could’ve been assumed that everyone thought you were an hour late with the amount of withering looks you received when you entered the gymnasium.

You offered a small apologetic smile and made a mental note to never be even a minute late again.

Leslie, the PTA president, was droning on and on about what big things were planned for the second half of the school year— somehow dragging out a short list of things that you thought could’ve been simply sent out in a mass email— when Steve walked in fifteen minutes after you. You fully expected him to receive the same type of annoyed looks that you had gotten, and maybe even more because he showed up later than you, but he got nothing but happy smiles from the majority of the moms.

That complete opposite reaction severely confused you and you wondered how he was able to receive such niceness when all you got was the coldest of shoulders.

Meeting after meeting it was continuously proven that he was the favorite among the moms, and it didn’t take you too long to learn why. He was a charmer, which everyone absolutely loved, and he seemed to effortlessly throw money at any school activity or fundraising event, another reason why he was so goddamn adored.

You were probably the only one that didn’t give a fuck about his charming personality, and instead, you would inwardly roll your eyes or scoff at pretty much anything he’d say and how easily the moms ate it up. Because when you really looked at it, you two were pretty much doing the same exact things— only moderately participating in events, showing up to the big monthly meetings instead of the weekly ones (and he was still always late to them), and not signing up for fields trips or activities that happened during school hours because of how overly demanding your jobs were; you’d learned from one particularly chatty mom that he worked at a pretty intense marketing firm. However, there was such a stark difference in treatment because he was the “hot single dad that gave a lot of money;” all of the moms practically fell at his feet and seemed to only tolerate you.

Maybe it was a hint of jealousy talking, but he still always managed to piss you off and you didn’t like him at all. It was an animosity that was perhaps just one-sided, and you hated yourself for caring so much, but that changed in April; during a moment where if the circumstances were different, it would’ve felt like some sort of romcom-esque “meet cute.” But, you basically despised Steve, so instead the whole situation just made your blood boil.

It was a Thursday at almost five o’clock during parent-teacher conference week; it was the only day that could work in your insanely busy schedule and you managed to get the latest time slot with Oliver’s teacher. You were pacing in the hallway where all three of the Kindergarten classrooms were; a coffee in one hand, because it was the only thing keeping you going that late in the day, and your phone in the other as you texted back an employee who was having problems with the oven. You were seconds away from calling him— because you knew that the issue would probably be solved quicker if you did so— but before you could, you were bombarded by someone who was quickly coming around the corner and they crashed into you. The abrupt collision was forceful enough to make your drink spill on you and your phone slip out of your hand.

You glanced down at your now coffee-stained white shirt and then up at the person who had caused this mess, and of course, it was Steve Harrington standing in front of you. You had to fight the immediate urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh, shit. My bad,” He quickly said. “I’m minutes away from being late for my parent-teacher meeting, so I was rushing from the parking lot. Now it really does make sense why teachers always said no running in the halls, right? Because something like this can happen.” As he rambled, you picked up your phone off the ground, glad that it wasn’t broken, and then you tossed your now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash can nearby. When you looked back at him, you saw that he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “Anyway, maybe I can pay for your dry cleaning? Or so you can at least get another coffee later or tomorrow?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve thought that the gesture was nice. But, since it was coming from Steve Harrington it only pissed you off because, of course, money was his immediate thought solution.

That time it was too difficult to not allow yourself to roll your eyes at him. “Y’know, throwing money at everything doesn’t make you a good dad. It actually makes you kind of an asshole.”

You knew that you were being a little too harsh, but it was still too hard to feel completely regretful about your words; you were pissed at this current situation that was fully caused by him and you were also pissed simply because he was him.

You weren’t sure what you expected Steve to respond with, but he easily matched your angry energy. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Well, at least, I can do something. You barely show up to things and can’t give money to make up for it, so how much of a ‘good mom’ does that make you?”

Before you could say anything in response to that— a response that probably would’ve started and ended with a simple “Fuck you”— you heard your name being called from behind you by Oliver’s teacher. With everything happening with the man in front of you right then, you’d almost forgotten the meeting you were at the school for in the first place.

Instead of saying anything to Steve, you simply buttoned up the black cardigan you were wearing to cover the majority of the coffee stain on your shirt and then walked away from him, putting on a smile and greeting Miss Wilson.

It wasn’t outwardly stated right then, but it was pretty much sealed then that this disliking could no longer be confused for being something that was one-sided. You two hadn’t said any words to each other since that moment in the hallway, and instead only annoyed looks and glares were shared anytime you saw one another; which lucky for you, actually wasn’t too frequent.

On the first day of school, you learned that his daughter was in the same First Grade class as Oliver due to the emergency contact form all the parents had to fill out, which was then condensed into one sheet and shared among everyone for “just in case” purposes, and Steve’s name and number was on there. You really didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because you could still avoid him like the plague that he was, and that was exactly what you’d been doing for the last two weeks.

However, you did not think that your kids would become friends.

“Can we have a playdate tomorrow?” Oliver asked.

You racked your brain for a response; a way to say no without actually saying it because you really did hate disappointing him. “Oh, um, this weekend is gonna be really busy. But, maybe soon though, okay?”

He frowned a bit but still nodded. “Okay.”

You held out your hand so that he could slip his in and then you started heading to your car.

“We have to go back to the coffee shop for a few more hours before we can go home. But, how does pizza for dinner tonight sound?” You asked as you buckled him in his car seat. The offer was an attempt to cheer him up and you hoped it worked; probably like every other six-year-old, Oliver loved pizza.

He smiled at that. “Ooh, yeah, that’s good.”

You smiled back at him and inwardly hoped that this playdate idea would blow over over the next few days. And that the thought of you having to spend any sort of willing time with Steve Harrington would become a scary thought that only occasionally haunted your dreams, instead of it being something that actually became real.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Of course, it did not blow over.

Excuse after excuse would fall from your lips, but Olly was determined and your words of “Today’s really busy” or “This weekend probably won’t be good” didn’t discourage him from continuing to ask.

As the days came and went and a week passed with Olly asking the same question each day, you were so close to sucking it up and calling Steve and finally setting something up, but you were still way too fucking prideful to do so.

That didn’t stop you from thinking about doing it most days, though. But it was easier not to think about it when you were busying yourself at the coffee shop, and it was almost too easy to make yourself busy in some way there. And that was something that didn’t change on this Friday.

Oliver was sitting in his favorite booth working on homework and you were behind the counter, making a simple hot chocolate for the older woman who would come in almost every afternoon, typically around four o’clock.

“Enjoy,” You said with a smile as you handed her the drink.

Things in the coffee shop were calm and quiet, and you were about to go see if Oliver needed any help with the worksheets he was doing, but then your phone started vibrating in your back pocket. When you grabbed it, you saw that it was a random number calling, and maybe you should’ve thought about that fact more before answering, but you didn’t.

“Hello?”

“Has Oliver asked to have a playdate with Madeline?” You quickly recognized Steve’s voice.

You let out a small sigh. “At least once a day since last Friday.”

“Same here with Maddie,” Steve said and then let out a sigh of his own. “We need to let this happen. I don’t think either of them are gonna let it go.”

At first, you didn’t say anything in response to his words. You wanted to disagree with Steve, but you knew that you couldn’t because it was the truth. And then there was the fact that every time you gave some sort of fake excuse to Olly, you would feel like the worst parent ever, so maybe it would be best to just finally let this happen. “You’re right. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes,” He answered. “We can just do a quick thing at the park if that’s good?”

That was exactly what you were about to suggest, but you didn't tell him that. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is twelve okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to you and instead simply ended the call there. The lack of an actual goodbye almost made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you didn’t because you knew that you probably would’ve done the same thing to him.

You put your phone back in your pocket and walked over to the two-person booth Oliver was sitting at, sliding in across from him. “Hey, bud, I have really fun news. You and Maddie are finally gonna have your playdate tomorrow.”

Seeing the elated grin immediately take over his face made the fact that you’d be spending a few hours with Steve Harrington tomorrow worth it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You never thought you’d witness a moment where Steve was actually on time for something, but for once he was. When you pulled into the small parking lot of the park, you already saw him sitting on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the playground watching Maddie go down a slide.

Moments after the car was put in park, Oliver was unbuckling himself and rushing to get out so that he could head over to where Maddie was. You could only smile at his enthusiasm before telling him to slow down and be careful.

You took your time walking over to where Steve was because of how much you were dreading it, and for a moment you debated whether or not you should sit next to him or go to the bench that was empty and a few feet away. Ultimately, you decided to just sit next to him; you could be civil for a couple of hours.

“Hi,” You said as you sat down on the wooden bench.

He looked at you just for a second before turning back to the playground. “Hey.”

“How are you?” You asked. It was always easy to go into the mundane small talk you’d have all day with customers; aside from the ones that were the regulars that you knew too well and couldn’t simply ask how they were doing without actually meaning it.

“Good,” Steve responded. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered with a small nod.

A silence that could only be deemed as awkward began to linger in the air because it felt as if there was absolutely nothing else to say. If he was a customer, you would’ve simply taken his order and he would have walked away by now, but obviously, this wasn’t that kind of interaction. The only sound that could be heard was the handful of other parents with their children and your own kids looking happier than ever.

It could’ve been easy for you to make some joke to Steve about how weird this entire situation felt because of how much animosity you had toward each other and now there you two were on a sort of playdate of your own because of your kids. And then the two of you would have laughed about this current set of circumstances, and maybe that would’ve allowed things to actually start to feel somewhat okay. But, it just felt way too hard to let yourself actually be civil toward him, even though you had told yourself that you would be.

“I’m very surprised you’re actually on time for something. After all the PTA meetings, I thought you were incapable of it,” You said, still staring straight ahead as you then took a sip from the water you had in your hand.

“And you’re late, which is not surprising,” He told you with a small scoff.

Aside from that first time you had been late for the meeting, there was one other time where you were late again and, of course, that was also the one time where Steve managed to be a little bit earlier than you. Given that he had been late countless times, you felt that it was both stupid and unwarranted for him to use the single time he saw you late against you.

“Whatever,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Not that I even owe you an explanation for being only five minutes late today, but the coffee shop was starting to have a rush right before me and Olly were about to leave, and I didn’t want to leave my employee right then to completely fend for himself.”

“That’s interesting because every time I drive by the place, it looks the complete opposite of busy.”

Perhaps this entire conversation immediately taking the shittiest turn was your fault because you “fired the first shot,” but his words felt equivalent to a low blow. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected by them and tried your hardest not to recognize the slight validity behind them— the coffee shop had its peak times and also its deserted moments, and maybe sometimes it did feel a bit more deserted than not, but you were surviving and right then that was all that mattered you.

You glared harshly at him although he wasn’t even looking back at you. Muttering a “Fuck you” was right on the tip of your tongue, but you bit it back and instead got up from the bench and started moving to an empty one. Steve didn’t say anything else to you and instead seemed completely unfazed by you walking away from him.

You watched Oliver and Maddie talking and laughing at the top of a slide that was big enough to fit both of them and they went down it together. Seeing how happy Olly was and knowing that this was the first friend he actually wanted to spend time with outside of school, made dealing with Steve’s bullshit right then completely okay with you.

When two o’clock rolled around, you were waving Oliver over to you, much to his dismay.

“I know it’s time to go, but can we all get food together?” He asked when he walked over to you.

For once, the excuse for saying no that you were about to tell him wasn’t a made-up one. “We gotta go pick Eddie up from the airport, remember? Also, he told me that he has a bunch of cool stuff to give you from California.”

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, a smile taking over his face. “I almost forgot he was coming today.”

He went over to where Maddie was now standing with Steve and he gave her a quick hug goodbye before running back over to you.

Instead of giving any sort of verbal goodbye to Steve, you simply gave him a small wave. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you’d now probably have to see him more often than not. With how happy Oliver and Maddie looked playing together, you knew that today definitely wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Somehow with the wave Steve gave back to you, you could tell that he knew that too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were in no way related to Eddie Munson, but he felt more like family than your actual family.

He was the first person you met when you moved to Hawkins three years ago. After going through a messy divorce that felt like it had actively taken at least ten years off of your life, it felt so goddamn nice to immediately make a friend in this town that was completely new to you.

Coming from Chicago, a city that had always felt way too big for you, any small town sounded perfect in your eyes, and you were able to find a cheap-ish house in Hawkins, so it was the winner.

You met Eddie at a grocery store a week after you’d moved in. It was also your birthday, a fact that three-year-old Oliver didn’t fail to tell Eddie when you accidentally bumped into him— quite literally crashed your cart into the guy— in the bread aisle.

“Happy birthday,” He had said to you and you gave him a small smile before proceeding to say another sorry for bumping your cart into him. He then looked at Oliver. “Are you gonna bake a birthday cake for her?”

Oliver visibly brightened and turned to you. “Ooh, yeah, can we bake a cake?”

“Sure,” You nodded and smiled at his eagerness.

He smiled widely and then looked back at Eddie. “Can you come over and help us make it?”

“Oh, um…” Eddie’s eyes met yours to see what you wanted him to say.

“You can, if you want,” You told him and you genuinely meant your words. He seemed normal, and even though this was a small town, he was the first person who had been so outwardly nice to you and Olly.

“Okay, yeah, I’d love to help,” He said with a nod. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You told him your name and then gestured to Olly. “And this is Oliver.”

“Sorry for suggesting this idea and contributing to the sugar high that will probably be happening tonight,” Eddie told you as you moved to the next aisle where all of the baking stuff was, you were giving Oliver full reign over what cake mix you got.

“Apology not accepted,” You responded but still smiled at him.

Many hours later, when the cake was baked and Oliver was tucked away in bed after having two pieces of it, you pulled out a bottle of wine for you and Eddie to drink. And then because of the wine and because of the fact that birthdays always managed to bring something severely melancholic out of you, you started crying to him about your divorce that had just been finalized, the affair that your husband had with his coworker being the catalyst for said divorce, and how you felt so weirdly alone in this new town but also not at all alone because you had Oliver.

Somehow none of that managed to scare him away— even though you would’ve been completely understanding if it had— and a friendship had been cemented ever since.

Eight months ago, he moved to California because of a huge opportunity he got with his music; it was something he had been waiting for for so many years. You had called it a “big break,” but he thought that sounded too pretentious.

You hadn’t really wanted him to leave, he was your best friend— your only friend in this town— but you were also so happy for him. And the distance actually managed to feel somewhat okay because you two would talk all the time and he’d visit every few months.

Oliver especially didn’t mind the distance because whenever Eddie did come back to Hawkins for a visit, it always meant that he’d get some cool new toys from him. And this time proved to be no different.

The three of you were in the coffee shop. It was quiet right then— you didn’t think about Steve’s words from earlier— and you watched Eddie smile at Oliver as he animatedly talked about something, you assumed he was telling Eddie about Madeline.

Moments later, Eddie walked over to where you stood behind the counter, beginning the clean-up process because you were closing in about an hour.

“It’s really nice seeing how fucking– I mean fudging,” He turned around to see if Oliver heard what he’d just said, but Olly was too busy playing with his new red toy car to hear anything. “Happy he is. All he’s been doing is rambling about his new friend.”

“Yeah, it’s really great,” You said, smiling as you thought about how happy he had been at the park earlier. You then thought about Steve and inwardly sighed. “Well, for the most part.”

“Why? Is she a bad influence or something? I didn’t think there could be bad influences in first grade,” Eddie said and then laughed a bit. “Actually, scratch that, I was definitely a bad influence in first grade.”

An amused look crossed your face. “You talk a lot about this “bad boy persona” you used to have, but I don’t know if I really believe it because all I see is a guy that actually enjoys buying toys for a six-year-old.”

He smiled at that. “I changed. Turned over a new leaf.”

“Mhm, got it,” You responded, your voice slightly sarcastic because it was still hard to imagine Eddie as anything other than the nice guy who baked a cake with you and Oliver on your birthday. “Anyway, though, it’s not the girl that’s the problem; she’s really sweet and nice. It’s her parent that’s the worst person in the world.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay, tell me all about this mean mom drama.”

“It’s a dad, actually,” You said and then started explaining everything that you had never said aloud before. You told Eddie all of it— how Steve was so easily able to throw money at anything the school needed, how he was basically treated like a King among the other moms because of that, the incident that happened last year during parent-teacher conference week where everything between you two fully came to a head, and the shitty conversation you had with him at the park only hours earlier.

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot. I can’t believe you have a nemesis, and I also can’t believe you never told me about him.”

“He’s the last thing I ever want to think about, let alone talk about. If it wasn’t for Oliver becoming friends with his daughter, you wouldn’t be hearing about him. Also, I feel like “nemesis” is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I can call him your mortal enemy, if you want,” Eddie said with a teasing smile and you only rolled your eyes in response, refraining from flipping him off. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Aside from you, people rarely ever move to this town for fun, so he’s probably been here his whole life.”

You actually never thought about the potential of Eddie knowing Steve, although it was completely plausible given the reason your friend just mentioned.

“Steve Harrington.”

“Oh.”

From Eddie’s reaction, the answer to your next question seemed pretty obvious but you still decided to ask it. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we were in high school at the same time.”

“Okay, what was he like?”

“All the typical high school stuff. He was a popular guy, played sports, was kind of a jerk but pretty much all of the girls still loved him.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “That sounds very accurate.”

“By the end of it, though, he seemed like somewhat of a changed guy. Got his heart broken by the nice girl, and then became friends with actual good people,” Eddie told you, and that was the one part of his description of the Steve that he had known that managed to actually surprise you. “I didn’t know he had a kid now.”

“Yup, and he’s also changed back into the jerk that you originally knew him as in high school,” You said. “And the most fuc— fudged up part of it all is that we should be friends. Which probably makes me sound crazy because of everything I just said, but it’s true. Me and him are basically in the same boat— the only single parents in the grade, we both have time-consuming jobs, and now even our kids are friends with each other. It would just make sense if we were actually friends too.”

“I mean, you still could be, right?”

You immediately shook your head. “Wrong. There’s no way that could ever happen.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The rest of September and most of October flew by with what felt like an abrupt kind of quickness.

Absolutely nothing changed between you and Steve, even with Eddie’s idea that maybe it could. The only time the two of you talked to each other was if it involved your kids and if you were setting up the day and time for another park playdate, which quickly managed to become a weekly thing because of how adamant Oliver and Madeline were— just like you assumed they’d be.

It may have seemed a little weird, these brief conversations you’d have with one another that were nothing more and nothing less than transactional, but it worked perfectly for you two.

“This weekend is gonna be pretty busy for me, so is tomorrow after school good?” You asked Steve. A PTA meeting had just ended and you and him were lingering by the same exit that the kids would come out of when school was over.

You were pretty close to not showing up to this Thursday night meeting, but you knew that you had to because it was about the Winter Carnival happening in December. It was a huge event that would be an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, which was why they talked about it so far in advance and why attendance at any meeting discussing it was pretty much mandatory.

Steve shook his head at your question. “I have this big work thing tomorrow, so I have to pick up Maddie and then drop her off at the babysitter before rushing back to the city.”

You nodded understandingly at his words. A part of you knew that you should have left it at that, because you tried to set something up and that should’ve been more than enough of an effort, but instead, you found yourself saying, “I can pick her up and take the two of them to the park tomorrow if you want.”

Steve was quiet and your words simply lingered in the open air. You almost regretted making the suggestion because you felt as if he was somehow going to find a way to be a dick about it, but then he looked at you curiously, and another look that you couldn’t decipher crossed his face too as he said, “You sure?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.” And it honestly wasn’t a problem in the slightest; Madeline was the sweetest girl ever. She reminded you nothing of Steve, so you assumed that she got her personality from her mom; you still had no idea what that entire situation entailed. “What time will you be done with work?”

“Hopefully around five or six,” He answered. There was still that look on his face, which you still couldn’t tell what it said, but you really wanted to know.

“Okay, after the park, I can take them back to my house and you can pick Maddie up from there when you’re done with work,” You said, only a little surprised at how easily this idea came together. “Olly’s been wanting to show her his new fish, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think she’s mentioned his fish to me probably a thousand times. It’s blue and purple, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a betta fish; Barnaby.”

“Barnaby?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea how Olly came up with that name, but I will admit that it does sound more like the name of an old sailor lost at sea rather than a fish. But, in some weird way, both of those things are actually kind of related.”

Steve laughed at that and somehow it didn’t sound the least bit mocking or condescending, it was more amused. Hearing that sound coming from him shocked you as much as it, surprisingly, made you inwardly smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The amount of dark clouds in the sky didn’t necessarily faze you until a raindrop hit your cheek as you sat on a park bench watching Oliver and Madeline on the playground. It was a light drizzle that transformed into something heavier in a matter of minutes and you realized that you probably should’ve been more mindful of what the weather was going to be today.

Neither of the kids really minded the rain putting an end to their time at the park though, because Oliver was happy to go home so that Maddie could finally see the fish.

They bounded up the stairs to Olly’s room the second you unlocked the front door, and you headed to the kitchen, sending a simple text to Steve in the process.

You: Had to leave the park because of the rain. We’re at my place now

At first, the lack of a response from him didn’t surprise you because it was only around four-thirty and he was probably busy. He was also Steve Harrington and he rarely ever responded to you in a timely manner.

You heard the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs and you looked up from your phone, after checking it for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, to see Olly and Maddie coming into the kitchen.

“Can you convince my dad to get me a fish?” Maddie asked as she and Olly joined you at the small dining table.

You smiled and nodded at her. “I can try.”

“Thanks,” She said, smiling back at you. “The only time I get to see any pets is at my Aunt Robin’s house. She has a golden retriever.”

“Oh, that’s really cool. What’s its name?”

“Willow. She’s a girl.”

Oliver looked at you. “Can we get a dog next?”

“Let’s just worry about Barnaby for now,” You told Olly, giving him a small smile. You could only imagine how much more hectic your life would become if you two got a dog anytime soon. “I was thinking about doing dino nuggets and french fries for you guys for dinner. How does that sound?”

They both perked up at that and nodded and you got up to turn on the oven, purposefully leaving your phone on the table because you wanted a break from impulsively checking it every few minutes. It slightly annoyed you that you heard nothing from Steve yet, and it annoyed you even more that the lack of a response felt personal. You wondered if he actually hadn’t seen your message yet, or if he was simply being an asshole and not responding with a simple “Okay” or even a thumbs up to it on purpose.

It wasn’t until the time was a little after six, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Steve, that your initial annoyance toward him not responding to you and not giving you any sort of updates on what was happening with him over the past few hours, morphed into something that resembled worry.

You walked out of the living room and into the kitchen and pulled your phone out of your back pocket so that you could call him. Your gaze moved toward the window as you pressed your phone to your ear; the weather outside still looked pretty shitty. The call went straight to voicemail and you sighed as you waited for the beep.

“Hey, um, it’s me. That’s probably very obvious. Um, anyway, you said you’d be done with work around five or six, but I haven’t heard anything from you in the last couple of hours… I hope everything’s fine. Um, any sort of update would be really nice. Call, or at least text me, whenever you get this. Okay… Bye.”

You hung up and slipped your phone back in your pocket.

It was an obvious fact that you didn’t like Steve Harrington, but that didn’t mean you wanted anything bad to happen to him.

The only thing that managed to not make you feel completely worried was that Maddie seemed okay and not worried at all. Instead, she and Olly were in the living room playing in the fort you made for them out of couch cushions and throw blankets.

You went back into the living room and sat down on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture that still had its cushion left.

“You guys okay in there?”

“Yup!”

“Yes!”

Hearing their chorus of happy “yeses” made you inwardly sigh in relief and lean back into the chair, letting your eyes shut just for a second and muttering to yourself that everything was and would be fine.

Your phone was still glued to your hand as you grabbed the remote with your other and turned on a random Disney movie for the kids to listen to as background noise and for you to take your mind off of Steve, even though all you were waiting and hoping for was for your phone to vibrate in your hand with a call or text from him.

You didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep in the chair until you were startled awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. The abruptness of it actually managed to scare you, so much so that you could immediately feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you opened your eyes.

The second Lilo & Stitch movie was now playing on the TV and through your half-awake haze, you found the remote to pause it. You then peeked inside the fort and saw that Olly and Maddie were asleep.

As you rubbed the slight tiredness out of your eyes and got up from the couch, you checked your phone and saw that the time was 8:11pm. The doorbell rang again as you unlocked the door and the first thing that you noticed when you opened it was that it was no longer raining, you were unsure when it had finally stopped.

“Hi.”

Seeing Steve standing in front of you managed to immediately wash away the worry you had been feeling for the last couple of hours. And it was quickly and completely replaced with the annoyance you’d initially felt. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hearing a genuine apology come from Steve Harrington’s mouth actually managed to baffle you. “My meeting at work ran over, and there was no way to get out of it, not even for a second. And then there was a ton of traffic because of the rain, so a drive that typically only takes thirty minutes took longer than an hour. Also, I have the worst and probably oldest phone in the world because it never holds a charge anymore, and it was plugged in during the entire drive but didn’t turn on at all. So, I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call or text or anything. These past few hours have been hell.” He let out a sigh and then looked at you, concerned. “How’s Maddie? Is she okay?”

There were a lot of words that had been thrown at you during Steve’s ramble, but hearing his full explanation and how apologetic he was made your annoyance with him dissipate into nothing just like your worry did. Instead, you felt a little bad for him because of all the shit he had to endure in the past few hours. You pushed the door open further to fully let him in.

“She’s good. She’s okay. She and Olly are sleeping in the living room. I made them a little fort,” You told him as he walked in and you pointed to where the kids were in the living room, and he nodded when he saw the construction of couch cushions and blankets.

You looked at Steve and hesitated for a moment. You knew that this was where the goodbyes for the night should’ve started, but it didn’t feel right to have him leave just yet; he still seemed sort of frazzled and stressed about everything that happened. You started heading toward the kitchen and he followed you. “Do you maybe, uh, want something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I have water and juice boxes,” You told him and turned around to meet his eyes, he was leaning against the small island. “It’s moments like these where it sucks being the “good influence/leading by example” parent because I can’t offer you something fun, like a soda.”

Steve laughed a bit; it still felt so foreign hearing that sound from him. “A juice box is fine. That’s probably all that lives at my house too.”

You grabbed one from the fridge and then closed it. “I hope you like apple.”

“My favorite, actually,” He said as you handed the drink to him, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you didn’t have enough time to really ponder that before he completely changed the subject. “How was Maddie when you picked her up? When I told her about it this morning, she seemed excited about it and about hanging out with Oliver after school too, but was she really okay?”

You nodded at his question. “She was great. They both had fun at the park and didn’t even mind the rain because they really wanted to come here and see the fish.”

He smiled and you could see the immediate relief wash over his face. “Okay.”

“She also wants me to try and convince you to get her a fish.”

“Of course she does,” He said before taking a sip from the juice box. You had to admit, it was a little funny seeing a man wearing professional clothes, that were probably so expensive, drinking from a tiny juice box meant for little kids.

“I’m honestly kinda surprised that you pick her up every day,” You told him as you turned and went back into the fridge to pull out a water for yourself. “Given your job, I thought you’d just have a babysitter or someone pick her up most of the time. I had no idea it was half an hour away.”

“I didn’t used to do it… Her, um, her mom would,” He said and you could tell by the way he said those words that whatever happened involving Maddie’s mom was a touchy subject. It sounded similar to how you’d usually sound whenever you talked about Oliver’s dad— a little sad and a lot like you’d rather talk about anything else.

Your mind started desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject; it was what you would’ve wanted him to do for you if the tables were turned. But, before you could say the first thing that came to mind, which was, “So, I wonder if it’s gonna rain tomorrow too,” Steve started talking again.

“It had become a routine because of how hectic my job is. She’d always drop Maddie off and pick her up. But, she, uh… She left last year, so that changed everything,” He told you. You closed the fridge and turned around to face him; you forgot to grab your water but that was the last thing on your mind right then.

This conversation suddenly felt like completely uncharted territory between you and Steve because you two did not talk about touchy subjects— you and him barely talked about anything at all. But, for some odd reason, you didn’t necessarily mind the serious turn to the conversation because maybe it was a shit ton of honesty that was needed for you two to actually, finally, not dislike each other.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and pulled his eyes away from yours. He instead fixed his attention on his juice box in hand. “It happened around this time in October. She dropped Maddie off at school, but didn’t pick her up.”

Hearing him say that surprised you as much as it confused you because you had absolutely no idea that happened last year. But with how busy you’d been then, and since you weren’t friends with any of the “gossipy” moms that somehow always knew everything, it did make a little sense why you knew nothing.

“Maddie was waiting in the office for about two hours after school was over before I could get there because I was in a meeting and didn’t see the calls coming from the school. She didn’t really know what was happening, but she was still so sad and I think that somehow a small part of her did know.” He shook his head and sighed, a look that could only be deemed as melancholic crossed his face. “I never want her to feel abandoned like that again, so I always make sure to drop her off and pick her up now.”

As he said his last words, something managed to shift inside of you in a matter of a split second. Suddenly, his name was no longer “the worst person in the world” in your mind.

In all of your months of having this “nemesis relationship” — as Eddie would call it— with Steve Harrington, you never thought that your opinion of him would ever be able to change. However, in this moment of you two standing across from each other at your small kitchen island as Steve held a freaking juice box in his hand, it finally did. He was a good person, a really fucking good person.

You were able to see it so goddamn easily then— the exact ways that he and Maddie were just alike. She got her personality from him, you were now quite literally certain of it. And you immediately felt bad for ever thinking differently.

“I’m sorry about what I said last year during conference week,” You told him, suddenly ready to give him your own burst of honesty. “I was pissed that you spilled my coffee all over me, and I was even more pissed because it was you, and you annoyed me so much. Because even though we’re kind of in the same boat with the amount of “active” things we do for the school, all of the moms love you so much and I swear they hate me, and it’s just so annoying.” You let out a small sigh and then met his gaze before saying the words that you didn’t think you’d ever say to him. “Anyway, you’re a really good dad, and I’m so sorry for telling you differently.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that day too. You’re a really great mom,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it slightly shocked you how much hearing that meant to you. Aside from Eddie, you couldn’t remember the last time someone said that to you. “And I don't think the moms at school actually like me. I think they just pity me because of everything that happened, and how they basically saw it all blow up in real time. Since pre-school, Maddie’s mom was dropping her off and picking her up, and suddenly one day she was completely gone. I swear the number of times I got phone calls that were a bunch of them saying, “We’re here for you,” but they really just wanted to get the full story about what happened, was insane during those first few months.”

“Jesus, small town moms are the worst,” You said as you shook your head. “Or, at least, ours are.”

You looked away from Steve and turned around, finally going back to the fridge to grab a water. “Oliver’s dad was kind of the same way. He left too. Or maybe it’s actually not the same because I made him leave— he was having an affair with his coworker. But, he also wanted to leave and be with her, so maybe it actually is a little similar. Sorry, now I’m just rambling about that asshole,” You said and rolled your eyes at yourself. You weren’t sure why you even decided to circle the conversation back to your exes.

“Do you and Oliver ever see him anymore?” Steve asked, and when you closed the fridge and turned back to face him, you shook your head at his question.

“Not since we moved here. He does the bare minimum and sends Olly checks for his birthday and Christmas. Which I think is dumb because no kid wants a check as a present; even I would rather get an actual gift than a stupid check,” You told Steve as you opened up your water. “Does Maddie ever see her mom, or does she ever come around sometimes?”

With the way she left, you were almost certain that the answer was no, but you were still curious.

“No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think she would ever want to,” Steve answered and you gave him a small nod of understanding before he continued. “I remember about a week after everything happened, and after avoiding my many calls and texts, she finally called me. She was really apologetic about the way she decided to leave, but she said that she just couldn’t do it anymore because none of this life that we had here was making her happy, and she didn’t want me to try and convince her to stay. When she said that, it made me realize that the smallest part of me knew that this would eventually happen. Maddie was completely unexpected and our relationship had already gotten pretty bad before we found out, so neither of us was remotely ready to be parents, but we still decided to do it and try to make it all work. Right when I saw Maddie for the first time I knew that she was the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and that never changed. But, it wasn’t the same way for her mom, and sometimes it seemed like she felt the complete opposite way. So, in a way, I can understand why she knew she had to leave. I hate the way that she did it, but ultimately I understand that this wasn’t the life she wanted, and she’d never want it.” A sad smile took over his face.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to,” You told him, suddenly feeling bad that you had been the one to bring the conversation back to this in the first place. “We can change the subject to anything else. Maybe the weather? I wonder if it’s gonna rain again tomorrow…”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I really never thought I’d say this because we’ve never had a real conversation before, but I think I actually like talking to you.” He shook his head at his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds fucked up.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I feel the same exact way. Ten minutes ago I couldn’t really stand the thought of having any sort of conversation with you, and now I feel like an idiot for hating you all this time. So, this is insanely fast progress,” You said and then immediately thought of something. “Wow, I really wish I had some alcohol for us to drink right now because us actually not despising each other anymore is a milestone that truly should be toasted to.”

Steve laughed a bit; it was nice hearing that sound after all the sad stuff that had just been shared by both of you. He raised his juice box toward you a bit. “This will have to do, I guess.”

You raised your water and “clinked” it with the juice box. “Cheers to… whatever we are now.”

It didn’t feel entirely like a friendship, but it, at least, felt like you two could actually be nice to one another and not feel pained to do so.

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a quick nod and then finished off the rest of what was left in his small juice box. “I should grab Maddie and head home. She has dance class at eight in the morning. She hates it for the most part, but she has a recital next week and I told her that she should push through until that and then we can quit. A part of me is kind of glad that she hates it, though, because classes are insanely expensive.”

“Olly’s starting soccer at the end of the month,” You told him. “It’s for boys and girls. You should see if Maddie wants to do that.”

“If Oliver’s doing it, she’ll probably say yes.”

You nodded at that and how true it was on both sides. “I’ll text you the information.”

“Thanks,” He said and smiled.

You followed him as he walked into the living room to get Maddie. She was still fast asleep as her arms circled around his neck when he picked her up. You grabbed her bookbag that she and Oliver left by the front door and helped Steve hook one of his arms in it.

Somehow something was silently exchanged in that last look shared between you and him before you said your final goodbyes for the night, and you softly shut and locked your door behind him. It was a look that expressed that you both were glad about what happened in the past twenty minutes— the honesty-filled conversation that led to you two finally understanding one another and realizing how you were actually more alike than either of you had ever thought.

It was a realization that was simultaneously surprising and refreshing.

“Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small smile and he smiled back at you.

“Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

PART TWO

let me know ur thoughts<333

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jensengirl83 · 1 year ago

Text

Dirty Dancing

Dean x reader

Word Count- 3885

Warnings- SMUT, idiots in love, mutual pining

A/N- I was listening to my playlist, and "Cry To Me" by Solomon Burke played, and this whole fic played out in my mind, so I had to write it! I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

Dean was walking through the bunker, wondering where Y/N had disappeared to. One minute she was sitting at the table in the library, and when he came back in from the garage, she was gone. It wasn’t uncommon for her to disappear somewhere in the bunker, but he needed to do a supply run and wanted to ask her if she needed anything.

He caught himself wanting, no, needing to make sure she was okay lately, checking in with her before he even asked Sam if he needed anything. He knew why but didn’t want to admit it out loud. Dean was ass over tea kettle in love with Y/N. How could he not be? She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, not to mention that she could hold her own on any hunt put before her. She was smart. As he would put it, she was Sammy smart. She knew her lore just as well as his brother, and that was impressive, considering Sam was a giant, walking encyclopedia.

He and Y/N had been friends for years. She had moved into the bunker with them not long after he and Sam had discovered its existence. But they had known each other long before that. Bobby had introduced her to the brothers shortly after John’s death. Her father had been a hunting buddy of Bobby’s, and he had taken her in when her father had gotten killed on a hunt. Granted, she was twenty-four when her father died, but Bobby didn’t want her to be out there on her own. Dean had been smitten from the first time he had seen her but never acted on it, happy to have her as a friend until lately. Now, she was all he could think about, and to be honest, it was scaring the shit out of him.

His thoughts were interrupted as he walked upon her door. What sounded like her TV on had gotten his attention. He peeked in her cracked door and couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him. Y/N was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her hair up in a messy bun, her eyes glued to the movie playing in front of her. Even in her old pajamas, her hair a mess on top of her head, Dean had never seen anything as beautiful. His heart fluttered in his chest as he looked at her, a smile pulling at his lips as he knocked on her door to let her know he was there. He could stand there and watch her all day, but he didn’t want her to catch him staring and think he was a creep.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m heading out on a supply run. Do you need anything?” he asked, smirking as her eyes never left the TV to look at him.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Movie that good, huh?” he laughed, finally making her break her eyes away and look at him.

“Damn right it is,” she exclaimed loudly, a small giggle leaving her, making Dean’s heart flutter yet again, “It’s one of my favorite movies.”

“Really? Dirty Dancing is one of your favorites?”

“Absolutely! It’s a classic!”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, trying to aggravate her. He loved when he could get her flustered. It was the cutest damn thing.

“Are you serious right now?! It’s so romantic. Especially this scene,” she sighed dreamily as she turned her attention back to the movie.

Dean looked up to see it was the scene where Johnny was dancing with Baby in his cabin. Yes, he knew this scene, as he had seen this movie before. Swayze always gets a pass!

“Women really find this stuff romantic?” he questioned, watching her reaction closely.

“Yes,” she replied softly, watching the scene intently, “And a man that can dance is just sexy.”

His heart almost stopped when she smiled and winked at him, her gaze swiftly returning to the movie. He watched her as she continued to watch, her expression was soft, and did he see want in her eyes as she watched the two on TV dance together?

Little did he know that he was right. Her heart beat faster as she watched the scene, her imagination running wild as she pictured it was her and Dean dancing together that way. Her chest felt tighter as the sadness that it would never happen washed over her. All she wanted was for Dean to want her as badly as she wanted him, but he would never see her that way. She sighed softly as she looked over to see him still looking at her, and she smiled, trying to cover the hurt she was feeling at that moment.

“Actually, could you pick me up some ice cream? I feel like just being lazy and eating junk while I watch movies all day,” she asked, knowing she needed to be alone the rest of the day. It was getting harder to hide her feelings for him, and she didn’t have the strength to fight it today.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

It had been a few days since she had spent the day by herself. She was glad Dean had left her alone, considering she had watched, as he would call them, ‘chick flicks’ and cried at the longing to be with him, knowing it would never happen. Luckily, today was a better day. She had cried out all her frustrations and was happy to be in the library with the boys. She smiled as she looked around her, grateful that she was where she was. A hunter’s life can be very lonely, and even though she wanted to be with Dean other than his friend, she had to accept that it could be worse. At least she had them in her life at all. The sound of a chair scraping the floor broke her thoughts as she saw Dean standing and walking out towards his room.

“What’s that about?” she asked, looking at Sam for an answer.

“No clue. Who really knows with him,” he shrugged, returning to the book he was reading.

She looked between Sam and where Dean had disappeared down the hallway. She sighed as she stood to go to her room. So much for spending time with Dean today, it seemed. He had been acting off since he left her room the day she was watching movies, now that she thought about it. She couldn’t figure out what happened that would make him distance himself from her. The more she pondered on it, she realized he had been holed up in his room a lot since that day. She felt her phone buzzing in her pocket as she reached her bedroom door. Taking it out to see that Dean had texted her asking her to come to the Dean cave. Maybe she would get to spend some time with him after all.

As she opened the door to the room, she saw Dean standing in the corner beside his record player, a shy smile on his face. Curious, she walked into the room, shutting the door behind her as she approached the man she longed to be closer to. He looked nervous, which wasn’t a look that she had seen on Dean very often. Once she was standing beside him, she looked up to see him staring down at her, his hand reaching out for her.

“Dance with me?” he whispered, terrified she would deny him.

She stood in shock momentarily, wondering if she had heard him right or if her ears were deceiving her. She looked between his face and his hand, frozen in disbelief. Before she could say anything, a look of hurt and rejection crossed his features as he started to pull his hand away. That jolted her out of her stupor, quickly grabbing his hand before he could put it in his pocket.

“I’d love to,” she smiled shyly, squeezing his hand gently.

His smile lit up the room. She hadn’t rejected him after all, and now, he hoped this would work as he had planned. With her hand in his, he picked up the needle to the player, sitting it on the record, turning to wrap her in his arms. As the music began to fill the room, she was stunned. The song played in the scene from Dirty Dancing she was watching when he came into her room that day. He began to sway with her exactly how Johnny was dancing with Baby. She couldn’t contain her giggle as he held her to him.

“Seriously? Damn it, woman, I’m trying to be romantic here,” he grumbled, looking at her with his best bitch face.

“I’m so sorry. Please continue,” she answered, not able to contain her smile.

He rolled his eyes dramatically but continued to sway her body with his. Her smile disappeared when he pulled her tighter to him, leaning down to rest his forehead on hers, his breath fanning her face. The look in his eyes made her gasp. She saw what she had wanted to see for years, desire for her. She felt light-headed with want for him. She had wanted him like this for so long, and now here she was, wrapped up in his arms, as he danced with her.

The song had ended, but he was still swaying them slowly, unable to let her go, afraid she would disappear if he released her from his arms. She wasn’t in a hurry to move, though. She knew she was where she was meant to be, in the strong arms of the green-eyed hunter that had won her heart a long time ago. Reluctantly, she pulled back, looking up to see him smiling down at her, and without hesitation, closed the small gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a barely there kiss.

She had imagined kissing Dean so many times, but even in her most vivid dreams, she couldn’t have foreseen how good his lips would feel on hers or how much the little whimpers he made as she deepened the kiss and ran her tongue across his bottom lip would affect her. The feeling of the muscles in his shoulders moving under her fingertips as he moved his hands all over her body made her ache with desire. She had never wanted anyone so badly in her life, and it was finally happening, making her head swim with the idea of what was still to come.

Dean walked them back over to the couch without his lips ever leaving her, laying her down cautiously, watching her expressions to make sure she wanted this as much as he did. When he found no signs of hesitation, he leaned over her, slotting himself between her legs, his lips going to kiss and nibble her neck. He was in no hurry tonight. He was going to find every little spot that made her cry out, make her feel like she was the only woman in the world, because that’s exactly what she was to him.

Y/N was a withering mess beneath him. The way his body was pressing her into the couch, his lips on her neck, his hands gently caressing her would be the death of her, she was sure. She needed more, needed to feel his skin against her, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses all over her already sweat-sheened body. She pushed his flannel down his shoulders, letting him shrug it off before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up his back as she tried to remove it. Dean chuckled as he sat back on his heels, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor behind him.

“Is that what you wanted, sweetheart?”

She bit her lip as she nodded, a little embarrassed at how carried away she was becoming. No man had ever made her feel the things she was feeling at the moment. Maybe it was because Dean was just so fucking handsome or that she was so irrevocably in love with him, but whatever it was, she had never been so turned on in her life. And he hadn’t done anything but kiss her.

“Hey…” he whispered, getting her attention. He knew that look. She was in her head again. “This will only go as far as you want it to. I want to touch you, feel you, make you feel so damn good, baby, but only if that’s what you want,”

“I want you, Dean. I need you,” she whimpered, quivering in anticipation.

“Are you sure? We’ll stop right now…,”

“Don’t you dare stop,” she groaned, earning another chuckle from Dean.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he winked, leaning down to capture her mouth again.

He moved his lips down her jaw, kissing and lightly nipping her skin as he trailed down toward her ear, licking the spot right behind her lobe. The sound she made was between a moan and a whimper, and fuck him if he didn’t want to hear her make that noise over and over.

He bore his weight on his hands, stiffening his arms so he could look down at her, and the unbridled passion he saw looking back at him took his breath away. She really wanted him, and it made him want to drown himself in her, completely let go and show her just how much he wanted and loved her. He made it his mission right then to show her how special she was because, god damn if she wasn’t perfect.

“Can I?” he asked, pulling the hem of her shirt up slightly, smiling when she nodded at him somewhat shyly.

Once her shirt had been thrown behind them, he dropped himself down on his forearms, placing soft kisses on the swell of her breasts. Her hands entwined in the hair on the back of his head, pulling him to where she wanted him, and he couldn’t contain the groan that spilled past his lips. She was starting to relax and enjoy herself, and if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, he didn’t know what was.

She was writhing underneath him as he took her nipple in his mouth through the fabric of her bra, her back arching with pleasure as her pussy clenched around nothing. She could feel him smirk against her skin as he kissed his way down her abdomen, stopping at the waist of her leggings. He looked up, silently questioning if he could continue. He smiled wickedly as she nodded in approval, sliding them and her panties down in one pull.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered as he ran his hands down her legs, spreading them slowly so he could see all of her.

Dean sat back, taking a moment to just admire the woman lying there before him. He could never express his gratitude for being here with her like this, and it wasn’t about just the sex. He knew what she was giving him and how special it was, and he wouldn’t take it for granted. He wanted to give himself to her wholly, but he had never been so happy and terrified. This wasn’t some one-night stand that would walk away in the morning. She was his best friend, and that scared the shit out of him. What if he couldn’t make her happy? She deserved the world, and he didn’t know if he could be the one to give that to her.

“Dean, stop,”

His eyes shot to hers. This was it. She had finally realized that she was making a mistake. He hung his head, knowing she was too good for him. He should’ve known that he would never deserve someone like her. He turned to reach for her shirt to give back to her when he felt her hand on his cheek, making him look at her.

“I can see what you’re thinking, and I want this. I want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you for so long...Please...Please, Dean, make me yours,” she said, tracing his bottom lip with her thumb, “Make me your girl.”

The dam had broken. Every emotion he had kept bottled up where it concerned Y/N was now at the surface, and it was overwhelming, to say the least. She wanted him, was begging for him, and who was he to not give her what she wanted.

In a flurry of limbs, he had his jeans and boxers off in record speed. He nestled himself back between her legs, caging her in with his arms, his mouth crushing hers, trying to show her exactly how he felt without words. She slid her arms down his back to his hips, pulling him to grind against her, both of them groaning at the feeling. He moved his hand between them, running a finger through her soaked folds, teasing her entrance with the tip of his finger.

“So wet for me, sweetheart,” he groaned in her ear, “I haven’t even tasted you yet.”

“Not this time, please! I need you inside me,” she begged, not wanting to waste another second before she felt him.

“I have to get you ready for me first.”

He pushed his middle finger deep into her heat, slowly dragging it in and out before adding his index finger. The way she was moaning and clutching for him made it hard not to slam home right then, but he also wanted to make her come on his fingers. He moved his thumb to slowly circle her clit as his fingers moved inside her faster.

“D, please! I’m gonna...I’m…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence before she came hard on his fingers, soaking his palm with her juices. Her body shook with her release as she cried out, grinding her hips down on his hand. She swore she had seen stars. No one had ever made her come that hard with their fingers. He slowed down his pace as she came down, going limp, eyes shut tight and breathing hard. She could hear him sucking her taste off his fingers, making her shiver.

“Fuck…,” she huffed, finally opening her eyes to see him smiling down at her.

“There she is…,” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss her softly, “You okay?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she rolled him over to his back, straddling his hips. She didn’t wait as she grabbed his hard cock, lining it up with her and sinking down. The feeling of being so full, him stretching her so good, almost had her coming again. His size made her have to adjust for a moment. He was bigger than anyone she had ever had, and she could feel the difference.

She pressed her hands to his chest for leverage and began moving, riding him slowly and making him go deep. Her moans soon drowned out the song playing in the background as she felt the coil in her belly tighten again.

“That’s it, sweetheart, take what you want,” He growled, fighting hard to stave off his release.

“Dean...Oh, God…I’m so close.”

“Let go for me,” he said, reaching up to cup her chin in his hand, forcing her to look him in the eye, “Come, baby girl.”

It was almost like her body was at his command. The coil snapped as soon as the words left his mouth, sending a white-hot heat coursing through her. Her body collapsed on his chest, his arms holding her to him as he thrust up into her, working her through her high. He captured her lips as he rolls them over, placing her leg over his hip as he drives himself deep, whispering praises in her ear.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So wet and tight for me.”

“Dean, please…” she begged, unsure what she was begging for anymore.

“I’ve got you. I’ll always have you, baby girl,” he growled into her shoulder, fighting back his orgasm. He refused to let go until she came around him again, “Touch yourself for me. Come again.”

She whined at the sensitivity as she circled her throbbing bud. She didn’t think she could come again, completely blissed out from the two times she had already, but to her surprise, the coil started to wind tight again, her release right on the edge. Dean thrust in hard while he pulled her nipple in his mouth, and that’s all it took to send her flying off the edge. She came with his name passing her lips in a chant as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her pussy clenching around him threw Dean over with her, stilling deep as he filled her up, whispering her name in her ear over and over.

Neither wanted to move, both enjoying the post-sex haze, but now also scared of what would happen next. Dean was the one to break the stillness as he rolled away, pulling her back to his chest as they lay on the couch. He nuzzled his face into the back of her neck, breathing in the smell of hair as it cascaded across his face. If this ended up being a one-time thing, he wanted to enjoy this little bit of peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hell, he didn’t know if he had ever felt peace like this.

“Dean,” she whispered, breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“What happens now?” her voice was so soft that he barely heard her.

He stayed quiet for a moment. Seriously thinking of how he wanted to answer her. He knew for a fact that he couldn’t go back to being her friend now. He was absolutely gone on her, and she needed to know it. He pulled her tighter against him as he began to speak.

“Well, I’m not sure how you feel, but Y/N, there’s no turning back for me now. I’ve wanted you for so damn long, and now that I have you, I can’t be just your friend anymore. If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m head over heels for you, sweetheart, and I’m all in. That is if you’ll have me.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was you,” she smiled, squeezing his hand that was resting on her stomach.

He kissed her head before he started to laugh softly, “I’m so damn glad I took the time to learn that dance.”

She turned in his arms quickly, looking at him in shock, “You learned that just for me?”

“Well, you said that a man that can dance is sexy,” he chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose.

“You didn’t have to learn that to be sexy, Dean.”

“Well, then, I don’t have to worry about having to dance again,” he smirked at her.

“No! I never said that. You were already sexy, but that dance made you extra sexy,” she giggled as he tickled her side.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he chided, grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and covering them.

That night, they lay cuddled on the couch, stealing kisses and never taking their hands off each other. Both of them eventually fell into a blissful sleep. The first night of many that they slept in each other’s arms.

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #supernatural family #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom #dean fanfiction #spn famdom #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you

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mayasdeluca · 5 months ago

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Top 5 Marina moments (and why?)

{pass along if you wish}

This is incredibly difficult and probably would change depending on when you ask me just because there's quite a few that make the top list but for now these come to mind. Also I've seen a lot of other answers and a lot of people had great ones!

5x07: "I want to hold a little you. I want another version of you that I can count my blessings on." This scene is just everything and so beautiful and I'll forever be upset that we never got to see Maya with her little Carina even if the alternative was cute too. The way Carina is looking at Maya throughout this whole scene too is 😭😍 It was probably the only time in Season 5 that them building a family was truly about just the two of them and I'm glad they had that moment regardless.

4x16: This has always been one of my favorites ever since it aired. Just seeing how happy they were the day of their wedding and so excited to get married that they were dancing in each other's arms in their kitchen. And the way Maya feels so at peace and happy in Carina's arms...I just love it so much.

6x15: This scene feels underrated (at least when it came to top 5 moments for some) and it's at the top for me no question. It was such an overdue conversation for them to have and it was so nice to hear them expressing their feelings to each other openly and being vulnerable with one another and Carina just seeking the comfort in Maya that she was so desperately missing all season long. The way Maya cradles Carina's face and Carina just buries herself in Maya's chest 😭 And this hug shot is truly one of my favorites of the series. So good. "Because I know from the first time I saw you in that bar, you are the person that I wanted to call." 🥰

5x17: This feels like the comfort scene for the fandom and them and it should be. It's everything we had always wanted to see for Marina and I wish we got more scenes like it. It was so simple but so satisfying at the same time. They also kissed so many times in it!!! Who knew that we would end up possibly taking that for granted after Season 7??? Anyways...from Carina sleeping on Maya's side of the bed while she's on shift to Maya waking her up with kisses to them being flirty while 'studying' to falling back into bed with one another and just staring at each other like no one else in the world matters....just perfection ❤️

5x01: This moment is so special because it also shows how incredibly magical Danielle and Stefania's chemistry is (which we all know it is but still) and how so in tune they are with one another that words don't even need to be spoken and their scene together can be so powerful. I'm really glad we got this scene of Carina comforting Maya after finding out she got demoted and being able to be sad about it in the comfort of her wife's arms and Carina showing her that it's okay to be sad about it, even on their wedding day because it's absolutely unfair that it happened to her and out of her control that it happened on one of the best days of her life.

And I just have to add in two bonus ones from Season 7 because it feels wrong to not include them.

7x04: The expressing fears discussion is another convo that was long overdue and I'm so glad we got it (directed by Stefania which was even better) and then getting to see Carina cuddle up to Maya as they go to sleep and basically attaching herself to her and not leaving an inch of space. 🥰 Also Maya looking at Liam and holding onto Carina as she prepares to go to sleep holding her wife was such a good moment too.

7x05: This was such a good scene from beginning to end. Maya seeing Carina's bloody shirt and freaking out, asking if Carina and Liam were okay in a panic to then having the tough discussion with Carina not being able to get pregnant with her eggs and Maya suggest her own so she can still live out that dream. And then we FINALLY get to hear Maya speak in Italian to her wife and call her amore mio. And Liam's precious self was there too. The perfect family moment ❤️

And while I was doing this I realized that the end scene in 6x10 is such a good one too but I don't know what I would take out to replace it with but just know that's also at the top because it's so Marina and Maya not wanting to leave Carina's side not knowing when she'd see her again and the forehead kiss 😭 I miss them so much already 😞

#asks #anon #station 19 #carina x maya #i need them back 😔#thank you anon for sending this around its nice to see a lot of marina talk!

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folkwhore1998 · 2 months ago

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And I don't know how it gets better than this.

Let's talk about Fearless on the eras tour!

The fearless set is literally perfection and I am not even joking. I would not have changed a single song. (I maybe would have added one, but I would not have wanted any taken off of the set list)

It is so nostalgic and brings me back to my middle school years. I had this baby spinning on a CD with my corded headphones.

Opening up with Fearless as the first song is so special and I can't explain it, but I feel like it scratches my brain just right. Love Story, You Belong With Me, and Fearless are classic bops and songs you think of when you think Taylor Swift, and there is no better way to honor the era than to play the songs everyone knows and loves. Hot take: I think Forever and Always x Mr.Perfectly Fine mashup would have been so epic, or either one on its own. Despite this; I truly think that the setlist was perfect.

The Fearless era outfits are so much fun and I think they're such a good ode to her baby fearless era. But, my absolute favorite has to be...

The short gold body suit/dress. I just love it so much and it is the most fearless thing I've ever seen. It is stunnnnning.

The tiger stripe body suit/dress is a fairly new addition to the wardrobe and I love it! I would not have expected it and was very surprised when it made its debut.

Silver and gold noodle dresses are not my favorites, but I can say they are incredibly unique and I've never seen dresses like them before.

The black and gold tassels is another fun one as well and I feel she loves a good tassel moment. It's especially fun for this set because of all of the spins she does during the set.

I'm actually very surprised that fearless has so many different outfits in rotation. There are some that get worn than others, but they all get a decent amount of stage time which is why think it's the perfect number of outfits.

Another very important thing to note about the Fearless set is the bedazzled guitar. I can't even put into words how much I love it. I feel like sometimes artists can become disconnected from their roots. Granted, I am not an artist, but I am a person, and this is a common thing that happens with people. Famous or not- it doesn't matter. However, I think this just speaks to the artist Taylor is and the amount of work she puts into her craft. The attention to detail is insane and I can just tell she takes great amounts of pride in her work, no matter how long far back it goes. I wonder if re-recording her albums healed her inner child at all. I know it did for me.

It's the fact her and her family bedazzled the guitar together as well. I just love everything about it.

Favorite Fearless Eras Tour moments:

PLAY FEARLESS!!!!!!!!

youtube

I can't tell you why, but the opening just makes me incredibly emotional.

Question: Does anyone think the Fearless set should have also been a cross over with Taylor Swift/Debut in the way folklore and evermore are together? I really wish debut would have made it onto the show!

@taylornation @taylorswift

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slutouttanowhere · 8 months ago

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Pairing: Randy Orton x Mavis Pete(oc) x LA Knight

Warning: public fingering, degradation, use of the word “cunt” not suitable for minors 21+

Word count: 7k –I hope you heathens are happy now

Special tag: @wanderingpages s/o to my main beta reader, the bitch slayed me again. ❤️‍🔥

A/n: Listen, this on was edited, not only that but I literally army crawled and struggled to get this shit done lol. Yes LA Knight was indeed in a boy band with his friends back in the day he’s said so himself. He’s literally so baby girl sometimes I love him. Anywho hope y’all enjoy this chapter and the story so far. Again I’ll reiterate that sometimes I’d prefer to use a wrestlers real name for the most part, and in this case it’s LA Knight, oc calls him by his government. I’d imagine he wouldn’t mind closer friends and such doing that. Also also also, reblog, leave comments and like please and thank you ✨💗

Chapter 4

My week has already started off somewhat chaotic, I nearly missed my flight from the last town, and I had a bit of difficulty with the rental place. After that was handled, and I settled, I finally got to do one of my favorite things, go to the salon,and get my hair done. After a month and a half, I’m finally getting a new weave installed. Luckily, our next stop was New York City, so it was nothing for me to meet up with my stylist, Peach, at her salon. I pulled up to the suite with an overnight bag containing a change of clothes, a hair accessories bag, a pair of sweat suits on, and my hair piled up on the top of my head. From afar, I caught a few men with cameras pointed at me. I sigh and place my shades over my eyes, trying to pay them no mind. Paparazzi in my face is something I’m used to considering my time in the WWE, but there’s a constant nagging in the deep recesses of my mind, wondering about the possibility of a bad shot and a misleading story concocted from it. Still, my lips tilt in a smirk giving them just a little something to work with.

Peach’s set up is so professional, the front has chairs lined up against the windows where customers can sit and wait. The receptionist desk is made out of gray, and white marble. Pictures of beauty icons lined the walls of the hallway that led to the back where the shampooing, and styling stations were. The receptionist at the front greeted me, and had me sign in. It wasn't long before I was being taken back by a shampoo girl to get my hair washed, blow dried, and then braided for the wig. By the time I actually sat down in Peach’s chair, the process was more than halfway over. She smiled at me through the beauty mirror in front of us; this was my favorite part of my work week, and I never take this time for granted. This is probably the only other time I don't talk in depth about wrestling, which I’m absolutely grateful for. Sometimes it feels like the gig is 24/7, but going to hair and nail appointments was one of the more mundane things that kept my brain intact.

“What are the plans for today?” She asked, guiding my head back to lean into her chair, helping me get comfortable as her work takes time. I inhaled deeply – the first thing that popped into my brain was Shaun. Tonight was our first official date, although he didn't actually call it a date, but hanging out with someone you're consistently having sex with is definitely a date to me.

“Apparently…” I hesitated in telling her, only because I could already guess her reaction. “I’m going on a date.” And without having to look at her , I knew Peach’s face was set in a grim, almost unimpressed expression.

“Ew, why?” She then caught herself, not wanting to sound too put off, “Wait, who with?” She was suspicious of my answer; she’s made it evidently clear she doesn't really agree with my choice in men. Especially since she found out about Nic and I via twitter. I think she just naturally assumed I’m surrounded by jackasses and she’s partially right.

I peek an eye open, taking in her reaction, “Remember my co-worker, LA Knight?”

“Stupid name.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes, but nodding her head. I couldn't help but let out a chortle of laughter. It’s understood between us that she just cares about me, and wants the best. Which, if you don't have a friend that’s willing to beat someone's ass, or at the very least tell them off in a very passionate manner, then are they really your friend?

“Hey, be nice, that’s a future Hall of Famer you’re insulting.” I playfully scolded her, only for her to give me an indescribable response somewhere between a mumble and a grunt. I rolled my eyes this time, “Well, he asked me on a date a few days ago, and honestly I’m kind of nervous because it was so, like, left field, ya know?” I replayed the scene in my head, finally being able to reflect on that day from a birds eye view. Truth be told, I still wasn't sure if I wanted to entertain the idea of us dating, even if it was just meant to be ‘fun’ as he described it.

She’s quiet for this run as well, letting me ruminate and maybe taking in the situation herself. “You wanna know why you’re nervous?” Peach asked, voice softening a bit, and suddenly I was all in, willing to listen to a married woman, and anything she had to tell me. “He likes you – more than a situationship, and more than a friend. I mean, he might be in love with you, Mavis.” She said earnestly. I felt my face heat up, and my eyebrows scrunched together as denial fought its way through.. It is something I thought about, but I wanted to be wrong.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?” I asked awkwardly, my voice cracking, eyelids widened. A chagrin expression morphing onto my face. Peach pressed her lips together, a stern expression written across her features; we stared each other down through the mirror, and off course I broke first. Letting out an uncomfortable kind of laughter to fill the silence, I bit my lip when I realized she wasn’t laughing with me.

“And you knew that didn’t you? But you said yes anyways.” She confirmed without me having to. A part of me felt bad, because the truth of the matter was, if I cut off Shaun I felt like I won’t have anyone else to entertain me.

“What happens when you fuck around and actually like him back when it’s too late? Like, I love you a lot but, is this a game you really wanna play?” Peach asked, her tone firm, and serious now. Boy, did she always ask the hard hitting questions. “I’m not getting on you, it’s just something to think about. Either way, it’s your choice what you do.” She said softly after observing how my lips dropped into a frown.

I sighed heavily, deciding to let it go for now, I turned my attention towards my stomach. As soon as I thought about food, my stomach grumbled, and I didn’t wanna eat out again since I’m going out with Shaun later. Maybe just something to knock the edge off? “Hungry? I’m buying.” I offered.

“Sort of, I kinda just wanted a smoothie or something, though. My boyfriend made dinner at home,” Peach grinned letting me steer the conversation elsewhere. she already had her phone out scrolling for open restaurants nearby, and my stomach growled louder at the thought, causing us both to burst out in laughter. We took a small break, waited for the smoothies, and while we waited I decided to play a silly game of smash or pass with Peach. She passed all the options; this set a record for the most eyerolls in one conversation, but then we got around to Randy.

“Please, for the love of God, don't say smash, Mavis.” Peach deadpanned, a light hearted, yet disappointed expression etched across her face. I opened my mouth to explain, but she immediately cut me off. “Isn’t he supposed to be your mentor or something?”

“And you’ve never wanted to fuck your teacher?” I argued back without hesitation, she couldn’t contain the smile that broke out onto her face and she threw her head back.

“You know what, am I even surprised? I know more about that man than I should, no thanks to you,” she grumbled, only pausing her rant to check the notification on her phone, indicating our food had come; Peach ordered us both smoothies, a nutella waffle, and some mozzarella sticks. We nibbled, and chatted for a little while longer, then Peach got back to work on my hair. By the time she actually finished, the sky turned a pink lemonade hue outside, and the foot traffic on the streets began to pick up.

“Wow, Peach, another banger, this looks amazing!” I ran my fingers through the grape colored curls gently, then turned to wrap my arms around her. We squeezed each other tightly, “ Hey do you mind if I use your bathroom to change my clothes real quick.”

“Are you gonna ask me every time to use the facilities you help to keep up?” She asked playfully, her lips curling up into a grin, but she pointed me in the direction of the back rooms where the bathroom was located. I grabbed my duffle bag, then slipped inside, and put on the light. I made sure to flick a few pics of myself, before and after my outfit change. I quickly opened Instagram to post them, not thinking anything of it. I packed my worn clothes into my bag, collected my things, then walked back into the salon. I made sure to hug Peach one more time, and swiped my debit card on the way out the door. I hopped into my rental, then made my way back to the hotel.

With the time I had left, I wasn’t really in the mood to wear a full face of makeup, so I decided to strategically draw on a sharp batwing eyeliner. Just as I was applying my second coat of mascara, the phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Ugh.” I groaned, reluctantly I picked up my phone, it was Shaun. “I almost stabbed myself in the eye thanks to you.” I grumbled, from his side of the video call, it looked like he was already outside the hotel.

A bright smile stretched across his face, I hated how handsome he was sometimes, it made it hard for me to deny him. “Don't worry, doll face, you wont need ’em where we’re going,” he joked. The scenery behind him changed as he walked into the hotel, smiling to anyone that passed him by. He was damn near glowing – I don't think I’ve ever seen him this happy before.

“A doofus you are.” I quipped, to which he snorted. There’s a tapping on my door and I wasn't surprised to see him on the opposite end of the threshold. His eyes softened upon seeing me. I hung up the phone on my end, and threw my arms around his neck. He seemed stunned by my eagerness. Shaun and I communicate a lot outside of work; even when we’re not physically together, we’re texting, or talking on the phone all day. This makes me feel uber important considering he’s usually busier than me at the moment with the company pushing him to be a made man, so he’s been booked a lot more than usual. It made me tear up thinking about it, I guess I was staring too long, Shaun held me at arms length observing my expression.

“Hey, you okay sweetheart?” With one hand gently squeezing my shoulder, the other held my fingers to his chest. My free hand wrapped around the back of his neck, and my fingers dug into his honey blonde hair. The corners of his lips curled upward into a tiny smile, and his eyelids drooped slightly. A while ago, we discovered that’s one of his ‘spots.’ I tilted my head to one side, my smile mirroring his.

“I’m just so happy for you, ya know? The company is really trusting you to be in a top position. And all of your success – you know how I love to watch my friends win, Shaun.” My voice just above a whisper, a sparkle of pride flashed in his eyes. He let out a breath, and quickly deflected the attention to me, like I knew he would.

Kissing me on the nose, he said, “Well, I’m just trying to keep up with you, little miss. hottest thing to rise out of NXT, little miss. First, women’s money in the bank winner. Now, she’s up on main roster, rolling with the big dogs, face on posters, and cups. Nike shoe deals, cameos in tv shows, music video vixen…I could go on, she’s got an extensive resume already.” He listed off my accomplishments, all those things were nice, and I’m grateful for all my opportunities, but I always felt as if I was the background character in my own life.

“So I guess you could say, I’m a…Megastar.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, and Shaun threw his head back, chuckling deeply. He was able to recover quickly, then leaned down and kissed me on the corner of my lips.

“Yeah.” My impression of LA Knight always won him over, even if it was stupid, and sometimes a far cry from what he actually sounded like. I was a fan before anything else, which he found endearing, thankfully.

“Alright, save some fun for the actual date, huh?” Shaun unwrapped himself from me so that I could quickly run to grab my purse, and phone. With our arms linked, we walked out only to be stopped shortly by a few of our inner circle. Xavier turned just before we crossed each other, tailed by Tyler Breeze and Big E.

“Damn! New wig, who dis?” Big E called out to me, the boys slapped hands with Shaun before they gently brought me into a side hug. Tyler is wholly responsible for Shaun and I ‘bumping’ into each other at that christmas party. Now, whether Tyler shoving me into Shaun was actually an accident or not… well that was still debatable. While Big E and Shaun were busy making some small talk, Xavier and Tyler pestered me.

Tyler slapped me on my shoulder, a grin on his lips, “I bet right about now you’re thinking, ‘gee, I’m so glad Tyler accidentally bumped into me at that party’ and to that I say, you’re welcome.” Xavier instantly bubbled up into giggles, which initially I wanted to be annoyed by Tylers statement, but Xavier’s laugh is so undeniable, and contagious.

“Whatever, doofus.” I rolled my eyes, by that time, Big E, and Shaun had rejoined our group. He threw his arm around my shoulder, I could feel my face heat up by the way the guys looked at me. Tyler was ready to burst, and Xavier wasn't too far behind him. They were the big brothers I never wanted sometimes. Shuan and I haven’t ever been this open with any form of affection, maybe a love tap here or there, or a playful flirt. But tonight, he’s practically waving a banner around for everyone to see and for some reason, it was making me anxious..

“Love to stay and chat fellas, but there’s a steak with my name on it.” Shuan’s light hearted tone put me at ease, reminding me that these are my friends, and that if I could trust anyone, it would be them. Probably with my life if I’m being honest. At last, we were alone again, walking through the hotel lobby and towards the parked car. Thankfully, the sun had gone down, and a nice breeze blew through the air. Shaun opened the passenger door for me, and I made sure to plant a soft kiss on his cheek before getting in.

I checked my phone as I settled in. Randy, had apparently he had been calling me all day. A few hours ago he had sent me a few texts. I bit my lip, guilt tightened in my chest – how could I have forgotten about him?

12:30 pm Randy🐍: Hey kid, ready? I’ll swing by in a little bit

12:40 pm Randy🐍: You forgot about training, didn't you?

1:15 pm Randy🐍: C’mon Mavis, you’re killing me, call me later. We’re gonna have to talk about this.

I puffed out air from my cheeks, nothing worse than being scolded by your idol, Randy Orton at that. I had been concentrating on the screen so intensely that I didn't even realize I never asked where the hell Shaun was taking me. “Umm, so you never told me what our date was.” I finally spoke up, it wasn't out of the ordinary that we sat in silence, I appreciated the fact that he didn't take my constant dissociating personally.

“Boy, I thought you’d never ask.” He joked, he glanced at me for a moment, a grin on his lips. One hand on the steering wheel, the other on my thigh, and hiphop music in the background. My heart thudded, I felt like a girl in one of those cheesy romance comedies, like I was Kate Hudson or something. Right when I think I’m out of the trenches with this man, he somehow reels me back in with the simplest of things, and I wonder if he knew that. Because besides Nic, I’m not exactly known to keep men around that long. Shaun’s been here almost a year.

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes halfheartedly to which he chuckled.

“It’s a surprise, I think you’d like it though, it’s a little place where you can really let your star power shine.” He said vaguely, leaving me with more confusion than before, but soon my questions were answered. We pulled into a packed parking lot, the front of the building said ‘Melodys’ in bright red led letters.

My heart pounded with excitement, and a little bit of nervousness. I recognize this place from when it came across my Instagram timeline two weeks ago. “Shaun! Why didn’t you tell me we’re going to karaoke? I would have been more prepared.” I groaned, no matter how hard I tried to rack my brain for the perfect song, there were simply too many for me to choose from.

“Sorry man, I just assumed you’d have one, everyone has a karaoke song!” He claimed, to which I went silent for a moment, and he looked at me expectantly.

“I’ve never been before.” I said quietly.

“What?” He seemed genuinely surprised by this.

“Yeah.” I whispered, now feeling embarrassed under his gaze. My eyes tore away from his, no longer able to hold his stare. He seemed genuinely shocked by this information.

“I never knew that. I figured we’d go and just have a blast.” His large hand held mine gently, our fingers laced together, and with his other hand he grabbed me by the chin turning my face back to him. “We can always go somewhere else if you want—”

“No, I wanna do this. I’ve always wanted to go, so maybe this is a sign.” Then I leaned in, and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. Even when I pulled away he lingered, eyes still closed, and lips slightly puckered.

“I’m waiting for another one.” He mumbled, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly into a lopsided grin, and I couldn’t help my giggle. I rolled my eyes, but granted him one more kiss, this time more heated than the last. I pulled him closer by the back of the neck, his tongue caressed the inside of my mouth, and caused me to moan into him.

Reluctantly we both pulled away for air, “We could always make a bed out of the backseat.” Shaun offered, his tone suggested he was joking, but his eyes said otherwise. I reached my hand out to his check, my thumb swiped over his lips cleaning the gloss I smeared across his mouth.

“And waist this outfit? Nah nah.”

“I love it when you say my catchphrases.” He breathed, still leaning forward to catch another kiss, but I moved away before he could swoop in. He rolled his eyes, turned to get out of the car, and walked around to my side. He opened the door for me, took my hand, and helped me out. Our lips pressed together again before I could even process him pushing close the door behind me. My lips parted in a gasp as his hands moved to grip at my hips, pressing me back onto the cool metal of the car. My hands moved to his neck, that spot where he liked, weaving my fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck. I wasn't sure what had gotten into him, but I was a long way from arguing with him. I was pulling him closer against me, searching for a lazy sort of dominance in the way our tongues seemed to collide. His thumbs moved sinuously over my skin, feeling warm despite the layer of clothing between us. My knees started feeling weak. Something about the way his hands were caressing me, and making out in a dim lit parking lot felt scandalous.

“Shaun,” I murmured, pulling away enough to let my words out, “I'm wearing a skirt.” I whispered through kisses that were turning more ravenous as we went on. I did nothing to stop him, even when I felt his hand squeeze my thigh, and slide up the back. I lifted my leg, wrapping it around his hip, and his fingers crept up further, disappearing underneath my skirt.

“I know.” He said playfully, and my heart jumped when I felt his fingers graze me over my panties. A soft caress at first that had me keening, then a little harder, causing my vision to blur with every intense beating of my pulse. I slur out his name, forgetting my own momentarily as I leaned my head against his neck. His fingers stroked up and down before tugging at the satin and pulling the material to the side. Cool air sent a shiver up my spine, tightening my nipples almost painfully. If I hadn't been holding onto Shaun for dear life, I fear not much would have stopped me from pulling at my shirt and begging his mouth towards the pointed tips. His palm cupped me in a way that made me think it was possible he felt every throb of my clit against his skin. My breaths were labored against his skin, and his soothing words felt akin to nonsense with the way I was struggling to stay focused. “Sweet girl,” he murmured into my soul, “Did you wear this tight little thing in hopes of me doing this tonight?” I bit down on my lip to stop the startled noise threatening to escape when slowly, he slid a finger into me. “You’re already so fucking wet,” he said, as if I wasnt so completely aware. He stroked in and out almost torturously slow, curving his digit just slightly.

“Oh my God.” I whined, tilting my head to stare up at him. I couldn’t see his eyes in this lighting but I bet he was enjoying the fuck out of this. As soft as Shaun was with me, I knew there was a side of him that wanted to hit me over the head with a frying pan, most men did.

“I love the faces you make,” he admitted. “I wonder what happens when I do this.” He pushed a second finger into me, making my eyes grow wide at the intrusion. The stretch wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle – if anything it made me crave more. My eyebrows drew together, and my head fell back when this palm bumped my clit.

“Fuck.” I moaned, lips parting and toes curling. I felt the muscles in my stomach tighten and contract against my will, and my hips began to undulate, hoping to gain more friction. My breath stopped in my throat, it was getting harder to breathe. The air seemed to still around us and my heart began to thump loudly into my ears. I almost didn’t hear the sound of someone’s car door slamming. My fingers gripped him tighter in fear, and I turned my head, looking to see if anyone was headed towards us. Shaun’s hand still at my hip suddenly rested against my neck. He slid it up, wrapping his rough fingers around my chin and forcing my gaze back to his, all the while his steady fingering had yet to stop.

“Eyes on me, little miss,” his demand was so low it felt like the sweetest caress. My lidded eyes grew only heavier as his palm pressed into my clit again. I had thought it was an accident at first, but this time he did it again. Over, and over, bringing me right back to him, and the heat he was sending through my body with the way he was working me. “Just me,” he murmured, tenderly. I nodded almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for him. “Say it,” he whispered, and my knees began to tremble.

“Just…” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, “Oh God,” I gripped him so hard, I knew his blood would be beneath my nails if I looked. He moved faster and faster, edging me until I told him what he wanted to hear, “Just you,” I nearly wept and the hand on my chin slid down to the base of my throat, adding pressure to my whispered chants. “Just you, just you…” and it felt like a little more than just for this moment right now. “Please.” I begged, and I wasn’t even sure what I was begging for, I just knew I needed it. He leaned in to me, his lips close to my ear, and he whispered things to me I thought he’d never say.

“I always knew you had a slut in you, out in the parking lot getting fingered in public, but this is what you wanted wasn’t it? ” The deepness of his voice, vibrating in my ears, traveled straight down between my thighs. My breath caught in my throat, I could feel it right there, the edge was so close, and I was about ready to jump over it. “Look at you,” he said softly, lips tickling the tip of my ear, “Taking my fingers in the parking lot like a little slut. Did you want him to watch?” took my earlobe between his teeth and I can only gather he meant whoever had just come out of their car. “Want to put on a little show so they could see uptight little Mavis come undone by sweet nothings and a LA Knight’s fingers in her tight little cunt?”

“Fuck you,” I murmured, eyes screwing shut as his fingers slammed into me faster and harder. “Yes,” I blurted out, “Yes, yes,” I felt a coiling heat start at the pit of my stomach and encased me fully. A sheen of sweat coats my skin despite the cool night. I’d say anything this man wanted me to if it meant getting me closer to climax.

“Everytime I say no, you bat those pretty little eyes at me, and I come running. A spoiled fucking brat, isn’t that right?” The sound of wet flesh on flesh filled my ears. It was so hard for me to see straight, let alone speak.

“Yes… ah! I’m such a fucking brat…” I stuttered out, my words mixed with moans, and my back arching. He pressed his lips to me, kissing my cheek, my ears, anywhere he could reach. “Ugh… I’m gonna come… don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I begged in a way I never thought I would.

“I know baby, I know. I’m not going anywhere till you finish, I don’t care how long it takes.” He breathed huskily into my ear. I pulled him in closer, my arms wrapping around him tightly. I brought my other leg up around him, and rocked my hips against him. That was just the right amount of rhythm I needed, and seconds later my hips halted, and just like that I came undone.

“That’s a good girl, let it out, come all over my fingers.” He encouraged me.

“Ugh.” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut, and burying my face into his shoulder, trying to not scream out into the void of night. . Shaun held me there, slowly pulling his fingers away, and causing my inner muscles to flex. After a moment passed, he slowly, and carefully let my legs down. One hand helped me smooth out my ruffled clothing while I held his other wrist, slowly bringing his fingers to my mouth, sucking him clean of my own essence.

“Glutinous.” He teased, though his eyes glinted something equivalent to carnal desire. We take a moment to come back to our senses, then he gives me a smile I couldn't help but return.

“What was that?” I asked, finally as we began to walk through the parking lot. Shaun had wrapped an arm around me protectively as a group of what looked to be drunk men stumbled in our direction. They didn’t bother us, but he had an eye on them nonetheless.

We paused at the back door, he signaled to the door man to give them a moment. “I sensed you were a little on edge, or at least distracted. I really just wanted to take your mind off things.” He said honestly, he held me by the hands, looking coy and charmingly boyish for a split second. I can’t help but mirror him, giving his fingers a squeeze.

“Then fun I shall have.” I giggled.

“That’s my girl.” Shaun pulled me by the hand. He passed the door man some money, and he happily opened the back door to the club. The sound of the music carried out into the night time air, engulfing us as we entered.. We held onto each other, his hand tightened around my wrist with an iron grip as he navigated us through the sea of bodies. There was seating sectioned off by a red velvet rope, and from what I could tell a small group of people were already seated there.

“Hey girl!” I squinted my eyes, to see Bianca waving me down from behind the vip. Montez behind her, they both danced up to us, she wrapped her arms around me, and instantly felt at home.

“Hey! What are you guys doing here?” Shaun didn’t tell me Bianca and Montez would be here, I would have been ecstatic to hang out with them.

“He didn’t tell you? We told him like two weeks ago to ask you out, Montez and I planned on going out to karaoke anyway. We figured it would be a great excuse to tag along.” She shrugged her shoulders, then took a sip of her fruity looking drink.

I gawked at her in shock, “Since when the hell do you like Shaun? And how come no one told me about any of this?” I wasn’t sure whether to be upset or not that she had set me up like this. I mean of course it was out of love, but I would have liked to have been included, damn it.

“Since Montez told me he wouldn’t shut up about you on one of their guy nights out.” Bianca revealed, a small smile stretched across her lips, and a knowing look on her face. Shaun was talking about me to his friends? I could feel my face heating up, I looked over to where he and Montez stood talking about God knows what. I swallowed thickly as the fluttering in the pit of my stomach went wild when he turned to glance at me. He held his thumb up to me, then switched to a thumbs down, but I answered with a thumbs up. He nodded his head, and went back to his conversation. “You two are so very much dating, I mean I’m pretty sure everyone else thought so, but now you won’t be able to fake the funk.”

“God, shut up.” I laughed. We chatted for a while. As it turned out, they only arrived a little bit before we did, and apparently Bianca signed us up as a duo. Which I’m thankful for, but then she made me sign up for my own solo song. After the boys came back from getting us some food, they sat down at our table.

“So, did you know, LA used to do Karaoke all the time with his friends?” Montez happened to have offered this information that I’m sure Shaun didn’t expect him to share at all. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed per say, but knowing him it’s probably something he wanted to brag about himself.

“You did what?” Already a large grin was forming across my face, being a Scorpio and would not, he had that whole mysterious vibe going on. It was so fun to peel back his layers, and find out something new every time, especially when it came via other people.

“Ah well, yes. It was more so a band; my friends and I would cover songs.” He was caught off guard by the topic, but explained nonetheless. This was by far the most interesting thing I found out about him.

“Whoa, okay JT.” I giggled, he rolled his eyes, he feigned a look of offense. In my peripheral I could see Bianca snapping pictures of us, and she didn’t even try to hide it.

“Okay, not too much, calm down.” He took a sip of his drink, from what I could tell it was maybe scotch, but he had gotten a margarita for me. Our names were further down in the queue, so we talked and had a few more drinks. By the time I had my third margarita I was feeling slightly buzzed, then I got the bright idea to sip on Shaun’s.

I grunted as I swallowed, burning on its way down my throat, and warming up my chest. “I was trying to warn you, but you gulped it down before I could say something.” He chuckled, but rubbed my back in an effort to soothe the pain. It only helped in the sense that he was sweet enough to do even that, even if it was while laughing at me. Bianca had brought a tray of shots back to the table, I think there may have only been four or five.

“What’s this for?” I looked up at her, she smiled, and picked up a glass. Without any more words she brought it to my lips, I didn’t question it, instead tilted my head back, and swallowed the liquor down.

Then she downed her own drink. Putting a hand on my shoulder, she said, "We're next.” Shaun clapped his hands together, and slapped fifty dollars on the table.

“Alright girls, I got money on you, get these people up off their feet.” He grinned, Montez followed his lead by also slapping money down on the table, and then a plastic card.

We looked at him confused at first, “And there’s been another fifty plus twenty five dollars off at The Cheesecake Factory,” He said proudly to which Bianca and I just rolled our eyes, and went up on stage. The crowd buzzed with mixed reactions for a moment. I could tell a few people recognized us, because then they proceeded to pull out their phone. Of course I posed for a few of them. The crowd really started to stir up when music started up.

“C’mon now, that’s the best y’all got? Let me hear some noise!” Bianca shouted, and I was quick to follow her lead.

“If it’s some laddies in the house that’s tired of scrubs lemme hear you holla!” On cue, the women in the club shouted and whistled as loudly as they could. Putting on a performance for people wasn’t out of the norm for me, but being able to do so without any restrictions was otherworldly. Especially being side by side with one of my closest friends, and when the music started it felt like everyone else didn’t even matter. No Scrubs is a song you could sing in your sleep, but when Left Eye’s verse came up, I was the only one of us that knew it by heart.

“See if you can't spatially expand my horizons, then that leaves you in a class of scrubs never rising..” I sang, the pop from the crowd really let me know they were with me, and from our VIP section, Montez was the loudest. Bianca, now my personal hype man, wrapped her arm around my shoulder as we bounced in sync as if we’ve done this before. It felt like as soon as the song started it was over, a few people had stirred up in the crowd chanting, “Hottie,” then another group of people started chanting, “EST.” Next thing we knew the crowd was going back and forth, “HOTTIE,” and “EST.”

“Much love y’all.” I held out my hands making a heart symbol, Bianca and I posed for a few more pictures, but eventually got off the stage. When we came back to the table it looked like a waitress had cleared our mess, and had left our unfinished drinks. Montez was chanting for us, and fist pumping. Shaun looked up at me from his seat. His eyes shined with desire, he clapped his hands together, I held my hand out, and he placed the money in my hands.

He chucked deeply, I took my seat next to him, and fanned myself off with his money. Then I stuffed it in my chest, Bianca picked up the gift card and waved it around. “I guess we’re having a girls night at cheesecake.” We fist bumped then giggled, the night was far from over, but I didn’t have any more drinks. When it was Shaun’s turn, the crowd was absolutely jumping, without him having to work for it, and I wasn’t surprised. He just had that kind of energy. That and I’ve learned NYC crowds love him– must be an east coast thing.

The opening guitars of Beat It blasted through the packed nightclub, and I was in awe of how shockingly amazing he sounded. He moved on the stage with such confidence, and aptitude, it was weirdly turning me on. Now I wished this was how I met him. Shaun didn’t hold anything back, he was full out dancing, and playing air guitar. I was gobsmacked. I felt like a groupie the way I slipped out of the VIP section and ran up to the front of the barricade where people crowded around him. I threw my body in every direction, banging my head as hard as my body would allow. I turned to see Bianca had followed me, we held each other by the shoulders dancing, and singing. When the song was over, we maneuvered our way back to our section.

I threw my arms around Shaun when he met up with us, “How come you never told me you could sing? That was awesome!” Suddenly, I was struck by a burst of energy, forgetting all about where we were. I pressed my lips to his out of excitement, he body froze for a second, but he quickly recovered. We pulled away for air, when my eyes opened I was caught in his pretty blue irises. The fluttering stirred up again, my head felt a little dizzy, and my knees weakened. Bianca, and Montez cheered from the sidelines and brought me back to reality. We stayed for another hour, but the post performance crash was hitting me hard.

“Hey, y’all ready to get out of here?” Montez asked. Bianca was already standing with her phone, and purse in hand.

I let out a yawn, “Yeah, besides I have media to do tomorrow morning.” When I stood from my seat I stumbled a little, Shaun’s hands were quick to catch me before I landed on my face. He held onto my elbows, and carefully steadied me. “Thanks,” I smiled. He winked at me in response and if he hadn't been holding me, I would have stumbled again.

We all said our goodbyes then split. Shaun held onto me, his grip tighter than before. The sun had already gone down when we got here, but now it was approaching midnight. “Looks like we got outta there just in time, one more rock song and the roof would have popped off.” He joked as he started the car. Feeling a chill, I reached for the heat. I didn’t notice Shaun was already doing the same thing, so when our fingers touched it came as a surprise to me, somewhat jolting me out of shock. When my eye met his, a smile grew across my lips, and my heart skipped a beat.

I pulled my hand out the way, and let him hit the buttons for the heat. Shaun glanced over at me, a curious expression on his face, “what are you all smiley about?” He asked, quoting my words from earlier.

“That was the most fun, outside of work, I’ve had in forever.” I giggled, my hand reached over to caress his cheek and ear as he drove.

“See, it wasn't so bad, was it? And our friends were there, the crowd gave you a big ole pop.” Shaun complimented me sweetly.

“Yeah but the way you worked the room was crazy business, I had no idea you could sing. Like sing sing!” Not once did this come up, he told me how shy he used to be as a kid, and how he used to go find a place to hide and let loose with music. But being a part of a band was something else altogether.

He shrugged, a sheepish grin stretched across his lips, “Just never thought you were interested in hearing it, honestly.”

“Is it because I talk about myself a lot? I'm sorry.” A feeling of guilt settled into my chest as I recall our past conversations. Most if not all, consisted of me doing what I felt like was yapping while my head laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around me.

“Awe no, listen doll face, that’s just our dynamic. You talk, I listen, and if I wasn’t okay with that, I’d tell you. I never brought it up because I just didn’t feel like it was interesting, and the boys and I haven’t done it in so long.” His voice sounded soft, and baritone as he reassured me. His hand found its way to my knee, squeezing it lovingly, before it traveled up to my thigh where his hand rested for the duration of the drive. My body relaxed, soon my forehead was pressed against the glass window, and I thought that I’d close my eyes for a moment.I was falling asleep, as the next time I opened my eyes, we were back at the hotel, and Shaun was opening my passenger side door.

“Oh shit, that was fast?” my voice was ladened with sleep.

“Not really, you 're just snoring the whole time.” Shaun teased, he handed over his keys to the valet, then took me by the hand, and walked us through the lobby to the elevators. He wrapped both arms around me from behind, pulling my close, and resting his chin on my head. My hands rested atop his, and my body melted into him. His cologne engulfed me, the warm scent beckoning me to sleep, but I fought to keep my eyes open till I made it to my bed.

By the time we made it to my hotel door I was ready to pass out, “Thank you.” A goofy grin plastered onto my face, my voice lowered to a whisper as I was too sleepy to talk any louder.

“Anytime, princess.” I pulled him in for a kiss, and I lingered for a moment, my eyes still closed. Reluctantly I pushed away, and entered my suite. I threw my clothes off near the door, grabbed a makeup wipe, and cleaned off as much makeup as I could knowing I’d regret it if I didn't in a few days time. I grabbed my bonnet, and the moment my head hit the pillow I passed out.

* Small mention: I do not own any lyrics by TLC, the verse/lyric I am referring to here is from No Scrubs by TLC. However, the only version to exists with Left Eyes rap verse is in the music video, to my knowledge. I will link the music video within the story for you all to enjoy.

#wwe fan fiction #black!oc #la knight smut #la knight fanfic #—tokio

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toxicroyjamie · 1 year ago

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pleaseeee give us more bigender jamie thoughts the concept is too good

Bigender Jamie my beloved….

He uses he/she pronouns <3 she doesn't mind they/them (pronouns are like. not very important to her honestly. she probably couldn’t tell you what a pronoun was if you asked LMAO) but she just doesn't really connect with gender neutrality/androgyny as much as she does with manhood and womanhood as separate and coexisting entities yk

When Jamie's super little, he starts asking Georgie why there are only boys and girls and he can't be both, and instead of jumping to tell him that's just the way it is (because she wants her bub to be a free thinker. obviously), she thinks about it for a while and is like. Well. I don’t know. I suppose you can be both if you’d like? And Jamie is like “ok :) yay :)” and runs with it

Georgie lets Jamie wear/do whatever he wants. She’s a very busy woman and simply has bigger things to worry about than her child wearing a pink shirt or whatever the fuck. As long as she can afford it, she'll buy it for him, because she's just trying to keep him happy and pay the bills yk

So Jamie amasses a small collection of what he calls “girl stuff," like these types of things

which he absolutely loves and has so much fun w. He's never pressured to identify any certain type of way or change anything about himself, always allowed to experiment, and he's very comfortable until he meets his dad

James starts coming around again when Jamie’s like 10ish, and he’s horrified by Georgie’s lax stance on masculinity and makes Jamie break/cut up/throw out her "girl stuff," because he doesn't think it's at all appropriate for his "son"

Having to destroy his favorite clothes and toys while his dad berates her is super traumatic and completely alters his perception of her gender/gender as a whole. When it was just him and Georgie, Jamie sort of took it for granted that he had room to experiment and didn’t realize that most people really don’t think it’s okay, and so it's a big shock and really forces her into the closet for a long time

Then she starts at the academy and everything around her is super masculine all the time, and she really tries put it behind her and convince herself that it was a phase and she doesn't have any need to indulge in that part of herself, since she's comfortable as a man and doesn't exactly feel disconnected from manhood

But as hard as he tries to convince himself otherwise, he always feels like he's missing part of himself. He's content with the life he's living and absolutely loves being one of the lads, but there's just something missing and it's undeniable and uncomfortable and always bubbling below the surface

So she's stuck in that limbo until she starts dating Keeley. He shows her an old picture where he’s wearing a Cinderella costume at daycare or something and tells her how he used to want to be “a girl and a boy at the same time” + about the “girl stuff” and how James made him destroy it, and he recounts the whole thing like it’s a funny story (because that’s just how he processes things) and is expecting Keeley to laugh with him, but she just gives him this really sad look and tells him she's sorry that happened to him and she hopes he feels comfortable expressing himself authentically with her

Which he doesn't at first, but he acclimates, because Keeley is willing to meet him halfway and work it out with him <3 She does his makeup on occasion and they experiment with phrases like "good girl" and "girlfriend" and even subtle public expressions of femininity like jewelry and nail polish and "women's" soap/shampoo, which Jamie really loves mixing with his generally masculine presentation

At one point Keeley asks her if she thinks she's a trans woman, and she's like. ":/ I don't think so, like I don't want to be a woman all the time, I just wish I could be a lady without having to give up being a lad 😔”

And Keeley of course is like "oh like bigender?"

She says it like it's nothing, but it's the first time Jamie's ever heard that and he had no idea that that was a real option and genuinely feels like he's found something he's been looking for his entire life and literally almost cries

(You can't spell "lady" without "lad" <3)

So Jamie starts to get Girl Stuff again (including some early-aughts nostalgia items identical to the things that James made her get rid of, which is very healing) and present the way she wants to present and has never ever been happier and finally feels whole

I have a LOT of thoughts about Jamie's gender identity and his relationship with Roy and the internal conflict/shame that would arise from that, but this post is already soooo long so you guys will have to let me know if you want me to talk about all that in another post

She's mostly pretty comfortable with her body, so she forgoes gender affirming surgeries, but she does start estrogen in her mid-late 20's, which is a game changer because it makes it easier to present feminine when she wants to while also allowing her to present masculine when she wants to

He doesn't really ever come out to the team, because that's not his style. They can figure it out on their own. (If you assume she's cis that's on you etc.) And they do!!! Dani starts calling her "amiga" on tuesdays thursdays and saturdays and "amigo" on mondays wednesdays and fridays or something like that lmaooo

He does come out to Georgie and Simon tho <3 Georgie is not surprised at all and takes to adding "baby girl" and "my daughter" to her repertoire very quickly, and at the end of the day she's the person whose opinion matters most to Jamie, so it's just a huge weight off his shoulders

(Simon makes her a bi flag cake and is like "love is love <3" and Jamie is like. Hm. Well. Thank you. You're a little lost but thank you)

#ask #jamie tartt #child abuse #transphobia #jamiegender #jeeley

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quite-right-too · 1 year ago

Text

Dona Nobis Pacem (Grant Us Peace) - Chapter One

Summary: After preparing for the arrival of her new housemates, the last thing Rose expected was for one of them to be the man whose flat she had snuck out of the night before.

Thank you to @demdifferentstories-29 for being a seriously amazing beta and helping me, the research proposal writer, get back into writing fanfics. If you haven't checked out her fics yet, please do. They're some of my favorites!

Read here on AO3

Naked.

That was the first thing Rose Tyler noticed when she woke up.

The bed she was in was not her own, and she was naked.

Blearily sitting up, she noticed it wasn’t much of a bed, really — it was a mattress on the floor.

She really had shagged a guy who slept on a mattress on the floor.

At least it had a sheet on it, she mused pathetically. As Rose looked around, however, she noticed the cardboard boxes littering the room. All of the walls were bare, save for the blinds over the single window letting in the sliver of soft morning light that was illuminating the room. The hardwood floors and white walls were a stark contrast to what she would have expected from someone with so many bloody boxes. The bareness was disorienting.

He must have just moved into his flat, then. But it didn’t matter, though.

She looked over to her right and there was a bloke, seemingly also naked, fast asleep next to her. Brown, messy hair donned his head, his expression peaceful. Rose could barely make out the constellations of freckles on his face. Based on his upper body, he was definitely fit – the light smattering of hair on his chest and sleek musculature easily got her attention. His light snores cut through that awkward silence of waking up in a random man’s bed.

She remembered the strobe lights giving her glimpses of the crowd in the otherwise darkened bar, the bass drowning out all other sounds besides her heartbeat in her ears. Dancing in the crowd. Laughing while she walked up to the bar and procured another cocktail — of which the name of she wasn’t sure. Getting several drinks in and seeing this absolutely gorgeous man. This man who had been looking at her with such confidence and desire. Eyes impossibly dark, looking at her like there was nobody else in the room. Dancing with him as his hands roamed, becoming more comfortable with each other. Drunken kisses turning into fumbling into his flat.

Which turned into some pretty amazing sex. There was something about him, some kind of pull drawing her closer, though she couldn’t be sure of what. Maybe it was just the alcohol that had coursed through her body the night before.

Quietly standing up, she made her way around the room to silently collect her clothes and put them on one by one. Her pair of knickers, however, were nowhere to be found. She barely was able to keep her balance while trying to get her jeans on. Her mobile was still in her pocket. ‘6 missed calls from Jack’ the phone screen showed. Checking the time, her stomach flipped.

4:53 AM. It was 4:53 in the morning and she had spent most of the night at this stranger’s flat.

Rose rushed to yank on her trainers, frantically checking for her bag and making sure all her belongings were still in it. After a moment of panic, she quietly and slowly opened the door to his bedroom, wincing as it creaked. The man, however, did not stir from his slumber. As she gently closed the door, save for a crack, she surveyed the layout of his flat. It wasn’t very large, probably about the size of the one she had shared with her mum. More bare walls and nearly a dozen cardboard boxes were in what was supposed to be the living room. The floors were quiet as she carefully walked through the hallway, eventually reaching the front door. It was quieter than the first, allowing a seamless transition from the dark flat to the outside world.

It was 5 AM at this point, the city coming back to life. It didn’t take long for a Lyft to arrive. As she sat in the back of the white sedan, Rose was thankful for the silent driver who had quiet, peaceful music playing. The sun had already begun to rise once they made their way out of the main city. The twenty minute ride felt like an eternity and Rose was thankful when the driver finally pulled up to the front of her house. The lights were still off, indicating there was nobody awake.

Her house was more posh than anywhere Rose had ever lived before. She grew up on the estates and could have never imagined living in a house, especially one where she had a large enough bedroom and her own en suite to feel like an actual adult. There was a garden, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a full kitchen, a properly sized living room, a formal dining room, and even a small library. It was stunning and definitely out of her wildest dreams — there was no way she would be able to afford living in a house like this if she was on her own.

Her flatmate, Jack, had recently inherited it from his grandfather. They had met during a drenching storm, in which he offered to give her a lift back to the flat she had shared with her mate Shareen. After keeping his number, she confided in him regarding her numerous failed attempts to find a new flat after some particularly nasty fights concerning her shared living situation. As one would have it, Jack was also looking for a new place to live and suggested that they share a flat, strictly as friends. It was just as platonic as he said, and their relationship blossomed from there. They were practically family, even having the typical rows you would see in sibling pairs. Once Jack’s grandfather had passed and he had gotten the deed to the house, Jack practically begged for her to live with him in it. She accepted enthusiastically.

However, it was definitely an adjustment. Rose had never lived in a house quite this large before, having two whole stories in it. They had only been there for two months even though it seemed like less after spending most of it decorating, acquiring furniture, and painting the walls to make it seem less like an old man lived there. Her room actually felt comfortable and grown up opposed to her vibrantly pink room at her mum’s. The walls were a soft light grey which gave the impression of a room much larger than it actually was. The soft pink duvet on her bed provided a nice pop of colour to the whole thing while the frame and sheets accentuated it with a simple white. Artwork lined the walls, all holding the same signature in the bottom right corner. Her signature.

Wearily unlocking the door, she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding since she woke up. She was now home, where she could lay in her own bed alone. Rose still had to get used to manoeuvring in the dark, narrowly avoiding bumping into various pieces of furniture that had recently been rearranged. The walk of shame up the stairs would have been far more embarrassing had Jack been actually awake. But thankfully, she still had about three hours before his alarm was meant to go off.

She quickly made her way up the stairs, her room at the end of the hall feeling more and more enticing. The door closed silently, finally giving Rose the chance to strip her clothes off. Rose admired the skimpy, strapless pink top she had worn.

‘Was this what made this man approach me?’ she wondered.

She so desperately wanted to feel the hot water cleansing her skin from the dirty one-off shag she had. Never had Rose been so thankful that Jack gave her the master bedroom — not worrying about anyone needing to use her bathroom was a nice, peaceful feeling.

As she turned the water on, multiple thoughts began to plague Rose’s mind.

Did they use a condom?

Was he clean?

Was this whole thing a huge mistake?

The mirror steaming up pulled her out of her spiral. Mentally, she made a note to go get tested as soon as possible.

The scalding water on her skin was much needed. She felt the night washing off, the bath sponge scrubbing away his tender touches and dirty words; the feelings of hot, sweaty sex full of lust. She remembered more and more while she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair — the fire in his eyes, the way his teeth felt on her neck. Her fingers gripping his hair as he—

Oh.

Rose’s breath hitched as her full memory of that night flashed through her mind at lightspeed, and she realised that it was the best shag of her life. She stood dumbfounded under the spray for a minute as she desperately tried to recall his name. Not once did they exchange names during the entire night.

She quickly finished her shower, turning off the water and stepping out with a towel wrapped around her.

It was a one-off, she reminded herself, albeit a little disappointed at the thought. You’re never going to see him again.

She threw her pyjamas on and crawled into bed. The fatigue from the night before had begun to set in. Her body felt so heavy and her head throbbed lightly — the result of a mixture of alcohol and exhaustion. She hadn’t even realised she had fallen asleep until the familiar pounding on the door pulled her out of her – quite unrestful – sleep.

“Wake up, Rosie!” Jack called through the door. “I need your help prepping the house for the guests!”

Oh — that was today.

It was bloody Saturday. Of course it was Saturday — the day Jack’s friends were supposed to be coming to move in. The house was just a little bit too big for the two of them, so Jack had invited some of his old travel friends to come live with them. After a lot of ‘Come on, Rosie, you’ll love them’ and ‘It’ll be nice to have some extra hands around here’, Rose eventually caved and told him that maybe she wouldn’t mind the extra company. Her only worry is that she knew almost nothing about them. She knew their names were James and Donna, they were siblings, and that they live in central London. Well, they lived in central London.

“Well, I thought you would never wake up,” Jack laughed as she sluggishly drifted into the kitchen. The distinct smell of coffee emanated through the room as Rose finally began actually waking up, taking a seat at the table. As he turned his head to look at her, she could see the smirk on his face. “Have too good of a time last night?” God, sometimes she wanted to punch him in his stupid American face. Even when he sat a cuppa down right in front of her with a splash of milk, just how she liked it.

“Maybe I did,” she sighed. “Don’t look at me like that.” He waggled his eyebrows, grinning at her as he chuckled lightly. “You’ve shown up plenty of times after a quick shag in the middle of the night.” Rose picked up the cup, sipping her tea as she eyed him.

Rolling his eyes, Jack grabbed his own coffee mug and sat down at the table with her. “Yeah, but Rose Tyler doesn’t do one night stands.” He was right and she knew it. It was very out of character for her to just have a meaningless fuck and sneak back into the house like she was a teenager. Changing the subject, he continued. “Are you ready to help with the move-in?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Rose groaned. It was going to be a long morning.

She had been counting down the minutes as they felt like hours, exhaustion creeping in. The day felt like it was never going to end. The doorbell rang as Rose finished up with tidying up the bathroom upstairs, not including her own. The door opened and she could faintly hear Jack greeting his friends, encouraging them to come inside. She began making her way down the hallway and to the staircase, all with the intention of warmly welcoming her new housemates.

“I’m so glad this worked out,” Jack laughed. “I’ve missed you guys.” He saw Rose coming down the staircase out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, Rosie! Come here! These are our esteemed guests,” he enunciated, giving a little wink. Her footsteps quickened as she descended. Rose looked up from her hands and wiped them off on her pants as she approached them.

“Hi, I’m Donna.” The ginger woman in front of her turned to Rose, greeting her after giving Jack a quick hug. “Thank you for letting my brother and I stay with you. It’s nice to finally be out of the city for once.” Her smile was warm and she had this aura of kindness around her. Rose was happy that Jack’s friends at least seemed normal.

“I’m Rose. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

As she turned to greet the man in front of her, she froze. That messy brown hair and constellation of freckles that Rose had tried to trace in the dim light of the morning. His eyes were this deep brown, and the glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose framed his face gorgeously. Her stomach flipped as their eyes met. It was like a string had been pulled so taut between them that it would snap at any moment.

It was him — the bloke whose flat she snuck out of after the best sex of her life. And here he was, standing in front of her, a matching look of shock adorned his features as he had the same realisation. And she didn’t even know his name.

“Hi, uh—” he stammered, stiffly offering her an outstretched hand. “I’m James. James Noble. It’s, er, nice to meet you.” He swallowed thickly, waiting for a response. Rose blinked the flabbergasted look off her face, taking a deep breath and accepting his hand to awkwardly shake it.

“Likewise.” What did she just get herself into?

#doctor who fanfiction #tenth doctor #rose tyler #tenrose #tenrose fic #ten x rose #my fic #tenth doctor x rose tyler #tenth doctor fanfiction #doctor who

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harrowscore · 2 days ago

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Ehy Val! How was the return from Milan? Any interesting anecdotes to tell about the experience of Les Miserables?

oh hi, love!!

yes, milan was amazing! obviously i already visited it last year for phantom (..... i still can't elaborate that i've actually seen it. and with THEE ramin karimloo too!), but this trip was also special.

1. i met @mircallaruthven - first time i've ever met a mutual irl in over ten years on tumblr lmao. she was as smart and lovely as i'd expected, of course - can't wait to see each other again ❤️

2. les mis was great! soooo, these are my impressions of the show:

the cast was VERY solid! unfortunately it was the staged concert, and i was far away enough from the stage so i could see perfectly the scenography (bare as it was. the lighting was great tho!) but very little of the actors' faces lol. the acoustic was flawless tho.

daniel koek was a very classic, somewhat old-school jean valjean, with beautiful singing and a strong, operatic voice. i enjoyed him very, very much.

my brother and i were absolutely floored by bradley jaden's javert (our favorite character, to no one's surprise). great voice, and a heartbreaking javert's soliloquy. on a more shallow note, he's also very handsome sjdjhdhf (#hotjavert agenda keeps winning!)

channah hewitt was such an emotional fantine - all the feelings poured down from her body, from her voice, like water. i couldn't see it that well from the gallery (thanks astigmatism i guess lol) but her wig (and cosette's) was glorious.

i think enjolras was harry grant smith - and he sounded and acted exactly as i imagine enjolras would. powerful baritone voice, but still with a boyish, youthful note. commanding, "charming but capable of being terrible", charismatic but also somehow an introvert. he was really good.

the thénardiers (gavin lee & linzi hateley) were a highlight of the show! they were hilarious. it helped that the italian audience didn't laugh at inappropriate times (when madame is verbally abusing little cosette, for example) like the english-speaking audiences usually do for... some reason i guess. we all laughed at their funny antics and ad-libs - like, when he said "i should have married her sister" and madame replied "i wish you had" lmao.

but the real star of the show (besides the leading man and javert, of course) was nathania ong's éponine. such a pure timbre, vaguely reminiscent of frances ruffelle, and sheer power - i wasn't the only one to think she was mind-blowingly good: my dad (and considering the audience's reaction to her on my own, probably everyone else too) thought the same. she also had a childish quality to her acting that i found very interesting. you could see her éponine was only a young girl, after all.

it was a staged concert so there's not much to say about the scenography, but imo they compensated for the absence of the barricade with... some kind of huge barricade-looking contraption, red-colored and illuminated, that came down from the ceiling during the second act. it was really cool to see, tho i imagine not as much as the real deal from the staged show.

the cast added some new, interesting touches and details here and there that would delight every long-time fan. the first that comes to mind are little gavroche hugging grantaire in drink with me, after the latter's pessimistic outburst. in the epilogue - for the joy of my fellow enjonine fans - i noticed enjolras and éponine standing side by side, stroking each other's arm in a really cute, friendly but surprisingly ic (at least for musical-verse!e&e) gesture. that melt my heart ngl

as it was expected, i cried and sobbed like a baby throughout all the epilogue scene, as per usual lmao. it was a miracle my painstakingly applied make-up didn't melt all over my face and turn me into a scary clown lol

tl;dr: it was really good! unfortunately for personal reasons i was a bit distracted during the show (i had some kind of minor relapse... nothing worrying, it was more annoying than anything else) but in the end it was worth the whole trip. if you want to ask me for more details you can also dm me, don't worry!! ❤️

#asks

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 1 year ago

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what's your favourite moment from the movie and why?

Shoot, that's such a difficult question; I really love this movie a lot so choosing is hard.

The answer may end up changing at some point, but the beginning of the movie (aka before the starting credits appear,) is my favorite.

I know this is a kind of a cop-out answer, especially because the reason I call this my favorite, is not so much because of what happens in the beginning (even though I still love the scenes for what they are,) but because the beginning of this movie is when I fell in love with it.

I wasn't going to give a long response but let's face it I can't.

The rest of this response would be part anecdotical, part praising the hell about this movie, and probably, some incomprehensible squealing because I love this movie so much is hard to find the right words.

Let's start with the anecdotical part.

I am not a movie person in the slightest, before last month I wasn't even a big fan of going to the movies; honestly, for most of my life the big screen, the sound, and such weren't enough to make it better that watch it in the comfort of my home.

This movie changed that for me. I had no way to run the numbers but I wouldn't be surprised if I had gone to the theatre this past month more times than I had gotten the past 10 years. I am going to be certain that's going to be the case by the time this movie stops showing up in theatres.

I decided to go and see this movie when it came out because I have Fridays free, and while I really liked ITSV, it wasn't my favorite movie, just one a enjoyed a lot but wasn't able to tick all the boxes for me to get up there.

Why go to see it when it came out? Because I didn't trust the internet wouldn't spoil me and even if the first film wasn't in my top 3, and while I wasn't sure the movie could live up to the bar the first set (Especially since the trailer didn't convince me.) One way or another, I want to see it for myself with as little information as I could so I would judge the movies for merit alone.

Because of the type of movie it was, the regular seating had already run out, so I ended up getting an extra expensive viewing. I remember seating in the theatre with my also overpriced food (Since I didn't go to see movies often may as well,) wondering if this was going to be worth all this money.

Let's than 20 minutes in, the movie proves to me it's worth that and much more.

This, this was the shot that I saw when I thought "Oh it was worth it."

Is hard to describe how hard this movie hits and let me remind you, this shot is before it hits the 15-minute mark. I had never liked something this much this quickly.

I remember being glued to my seat, absolutely baffled how in so little time this movie was able to make me adore it.

The beautiful art direction, oh I wish I understood art better because I know there is so much more going on that I don't have the vocabulary for it.

I caught on other little details, like for me it was obvious how the fact that Gwen's apartment had warm colors except for her room was a representation of how much she is isolating herself, how she herself is blue by drowning in her isolation, and how she only became warm by hugging her father, the only bond he has left with someone who is active in her life.

Seeing Gwen switch between her civilian self and costume, thinking to myself to what degree she is stuck to her costume that she feels the responsibility of the mantle in her bones even when there is nothing going on.

I have 0 music knowledge really, but Self-love is my favorite song in the entire movie, and part of it is hearing the lyrics resonate with what's going on the screen.

It's funny how I went from really not caring too much about something that happened to a character, to "The first four times I watched this movie I was crying at this part."

Granted, I know exactly why. Execution, time, and tone play heavily into this, after wall, we went from the moment being said in passing to having the flashback of how it plays it out, and is of course, a lot worse.

It reminds me of Encanto in a way, where Alma talking about the death of her husband doesn't come with a twist, in fact none of what she told us is really new information. However because we are seeing things from her true perspective rather that just being told a sanitized version of it, it hits all the harder.

Which is exactly what happens here.

(I didn't include the scenes of Gwen with Peter because the ATSV makes me teary eyed and I already talked a lot about it in other posts, and the one in ITSV is funny because is deadass Peter B model. That also plays a part.)

And this brings us to another reason why this sequence made me fall in love with this movie: Gwen.

For this, I need to talk about my opinion of Gwen in ITSV: I liked her, and that's it.

I thought her design was cool, I adored the way she move in combat as if she was dancing. I liked that she was a good fighter and so put together. If this movie would have come out a few years earlier, I know my teenage self would have had a massive crush on her.

Yet that was as much as I could say about her, the movie didn't give us as much time to get to know her, and while the cool, badass persona is fun, I need more than that to like a character.

Then this movie comes, and has me crying for Gwen at the beginning of the movie.

I came from barely having any attachment to this character aside from liking the aesthetics, to wanting to hug and tell her everything was going to be okay. As far as I am concerned she is my daughter.

(Let's ignore the fact I am not even 10 years older than her and in no way, shape or form ready to be a parent.)

I don't really have an analysis to make this, this is just a good joke that I like.

It does however kind of illustrate my point now, doesn't it?

This part is moving, is emotional, is an artistical marvel and this post doesn't even mention Vulture (a lot of people had talked about that already, including people who know enough about animation that can truly appreciate it; so I will just say my jaw was on the floor by that point.) All while being entertaining as heck.

Movies tend to be too long for me, in fact, I saw the new Indiana Jones recently and I was grasping for my phone around the 50 minute mark. Not to say the movie is bad (not really my taste but that's on me,) but to illustrate that this isn't my type of thing.

The new Indiana movie is only 10 minutes longer than ATSV, yet ATSV is the movie I had watched MULTIPLE TIMES already, and still sit through without being the least bit bored. It doesn't matter the number of times I had said this already because I still can't believe it.

And is at the beginning of this movie that it encapsulates the essence as to why it works so well, this is the part that reminds me why I had gotten to watch this on the big screen the number of times I had, is the reason why this movie has basically become my comfort watch, the thing I see when I am stressed out and I want to immerse myself in something I love.

I said at the beginning is a cop-out answer, and this is why; the beginning has all the part that reminds me why I adore the movie to the degree I had done, and while I love so many scenes, this is the part that comes to mind when I think of favorite.

#gwen stacy #ask #spider gwen #atsv #itsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #I try to put my love for this movie into words so it may be a bit unhinged #but I said it when I did the introduction of this blog #I love this movie more than it is comprehensible

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cherry-blossom-qf · 2 months ago

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Necro, who was the kindest person in your life? And what was the hardest sacrifice you've made— literally or figuratively?

Apple Core, what was your most challenging experience as a Sensei?

Prince, O lord of fashion, which if your fits and/or forms is your absolute favorite?

Magomon, what's your opinion on Tamers in general?

Officer, my good sir, what was the toughest case you've helped or had to solve? Any solo cases?

UT, what are your favorite holiday traditions in the Underground and Surface world?

🩸: "There hasn't been a sacrifice thats been that hard for me to perform. The only thing I truly regret sacrificing is my ability to smell normal ever again. Seriously, I tried bathing multiple times and used every single perfume, cologne, all the scent products... AND I STILL CANT GET RID OF THE ROITING CORPSE SMELL!!

As for who's the kindest person I know? Well... the obvious answer would be Kirby... but there's also this snowman that has been helping me with my research, perhaps I could talk about them some other time."

🍏: "Most challenging things as a sensei? Well, to perfectly honest, it's the students that are, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, require a lot of patience from me. For example; I have this one student who is just, again I mean this in the nicest way possible, a stubborn wanna-be-cool-guy.

Don't get me wrong, he does have a lot of potential to be a Skylander and I can see him becoming one in the future... BUT he's just has a really bad habit of wanting to do things all by himself because he's 'so cool' with his high running speeds and cool dragon sword, only to get his ass handed to him one way or the other. I thought Blades' cockiness when he became a Skylander was bad, that student takes the cake!!!"

👑: "Favorite outfit? My goodness!! That's like picking between my own children!! But... if I had to pick just one.... like, you holding a knife to my back and forcing me to pick just one, then I'm gonna pick the robes I wore to my wedding. They were so sparkly and beautiful, I truly felt special on my special day~! As for forms, the Prince Form is my favorite. I like the height boost, elegance, and a sense of power in that form, hehehe~"

🎩: "My thoughts on Tamers? Well, I have said before that there have been tales and legends of humans being involved with digimon. I've always found it fascinating, as those legends have told of humans granting digimon power they could never get on their own. I kinda wished to see something like that happen one day... Little did I know that I was gonna get a human myself, hehe!!

Susie has been lots of fun to travel with, and the power she grants me and Marxamon has been incredible (tho I wish evolving into Crownedmon wasn't so mentally scaring and painful)!! I could have never asked for a better human partner!! Me and Marxamon are her 'goodiest boys'!! 'Goodiest' is not a grammatically correct word, but I let it slide because she gives me hugs and pets!♡♡♡"

🚔: "Funnily enough, my toughest case was actually my first solo case!! The case of Artie Flopshark, a poker guru that was supposed to be dead, as he was killed by Flint Paper. According to some of the records, Artie's bank account was still active, depositing and withdrawing money regularly as if he was alive. And there had been reports of Artie being near abandoned graveyards across the country. Flint Paper couldn't track him down for the life of him, so he assumed it had been some kind of 'witchcraft' that made this guy untraceable. So Flint gave the case to me since I'm a mage and stuff (witchcraft and my magic are obviously two different things, but I let it slide). Sam and Max had a lot of faith that I could handle this on my own, so I took on the challenge just to make them proud. The weeks of trying to find this guy felt like the longest weeks of my life! But I was able to find him.

Long Story Short; It turned out Artie Flopshark was revived as a zombie like monster by a bunch of teenage wizards that were messing around with dark arts (kinda sounds familiar). When the wizards successfully revived him, they freaked out and left him behind. Artie was able to get a hold on that dark arts book that they coincidently dropped and used it to get around the county's graveyards. He was hosting nightly poker nights to get his funds back for his new undead life, inviting all sorts of creeps and ghouls to play games of Texas Hold'em. In fear of being killed again by Flint, Artie used magic to keep himself untrackable from any living being on earth. Which I was able to work around the effects because I'm not from earth, hehe~!!

I felt kinda bad for him since even mentioning Flint Paper made him scream in panic, so did Artie a favor and helped him get a restraining order on Flint. I got my paycheck and a celebration surprise from Sam and Max that they planned for me for completing my first solo case, a VIP trip to The Inventory for drinks, dinner, and poker."

💙: "Well damn, ol' gunner boy spoke in whole paragraphs! Ok, favorite holiday.... I gotta give it to Halloween, dude. Monsters seem to enjoy Halloween a lot, and I can see why, as my best memories here are sometimes related to Halloween. Like on our first trick-or-treating, Frisk dressed up as a witch and made me their little 'black cat' by dressing me in a black cat onesie. I was carried around in their backpack as we went around the neighborhood. And when I got my monster form perfected, me and Frisk did even cooler matching costumes! Mario and Luigi, Dipper and Mabel, Steven and Amethyst, Freddy and Bonnie, heck we even Sans and Papyrus a few times! (which the bros really liked)

Even though I moved out of Toriel's house after I got married, Frisk and I still go trick-or-treating together every Halloween with our matching costumes. And Frisk hasn't grown out of trick-or-treating just yet, so we'll be continuing this little tradition of ours for a few more years! And I'll be enjoying every moment."

🦋: "Man I sure do love being involved!" -he said to no one.

(Congratulations Blaze, you changed my QnA formatting just for this ask! Eff you and have a nice day!)

#magolor aus qna #this took DAYS for me to come up with an answer for all of them! DAMN YOU BLAZE!#Good lord I put too much effort into this ask wtf #If you need me I'll be in the corner steaming like a fried computer after running too many minecraft mods #If there is ANY spelling mistakes in this that I missed you can just slap me in the face

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possibilistfanfiction · 2 years ago

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legitimately fuckin obsessed with the avatrice football au my dude. that last snippet brought me pure JOY im tellin you what

[well here's some ava pov while i procrastinate ch3 plot lol, s/o to @unicyclehippo for the worst/best gay pun of all time, love u. honestly this is long enough to put on ao3 so ... i'll do that in a footy au series i suppose for context... justice for chanel lol]

///

waking up from your first surgery is a blur, mostly an inexplicable terror when you can’t feel your legs, when you can barely move your fingers. tears leak from your eyes and you can’t wipe them, can only let them roll down into your temples. but then there’s a hand in yours, and chanel’s comforting touch, her voice soft.

‘it’ll be okay, ava,’ she says.

it won’t be okay, you’re certain of it, because you’d been taken straight from the field to the hospital, and then right into surgery, your kit cut off so that they didn’t move your spine more than you already had. you love football; you love football, the feeling of being so at home in your body, the feeling of going fast and the delight of the burn in your muscles, of not being afraid of anything.

‘i’m really scared.’ you look at chanel, showered and gorgeous, in a team issued bomber that seems impossibly elegant, even now.

‘yeah,’ she grants, swipes her thumb against your cheeks and into your hair, catching your tears. she grabs a tissue and wipes your nose, which, from anyone else, would be absolutely horrifying, but she does it with so little fanfare and you’re in pain and also not pain — the worse option — you can’t even really care. she’s your favorite teammate: kind and brave and funny. she’s your friend. ’you’re gonna get through this, though.’

‘i don’t — i don’t want to.’

you don’t even quite know what you mean, still out of it because of pain meds and anesthesia, but chanel sighs gently.

‘you will. one day, you will.’

you don’t, not for a long time. after your fifth surgery you kind of tell yourself that you’ve definitely given up on football; they move you to a long-term rehab facility specifically for spine injuries, which is better than the hospital for sure, but it’s still hours and hours of physical and occupational therapy that leaves you feeling discouraged more often that not. once the inflammation starts to go down in your spine, you start to, at least, regain some function in your arms and hands, and after your sixth surgery, things are, you’ll admit, more hopeful. at the very least, you’ll be able to do things like use a manual chair and cook and type emails.

you’re not great at texting yet; your occupational therapist is always telling you that if you worked on writing, and holding cutlery, and even more boring, pointless shit like pick up sticks, you’d have an easier time, but, whatever, you can type with the pointer finger of your right hand and it gets the job done. chanel visits as often as she can, most days in the late morning, which feels particularly generous in the off season when she could be being glamorous somewhere else, probably invited to paris fashion week or something. she brings makeup — expensive, beautiful makeup — and doesn’t seem to care when you clumsily fuck up lipstick or poke your eye with a mascara wand. you know she brings it so you actually do your occupational therapy exercises, but she also brings you changes of comfortable clothes and washes your hair gently every few days. she lies back in bed with you, long limbed and beautiful, and watches matches when you don’t feel too sad.

a few days after your eighth surgery, your last, according to your neurosurgeon, you wear a giant back brace over your beatrice xin jersey, your favorite player to watch, and your physical therapy team gets you strapped into this harness that connects to the ceiling so you can try to walk on the treadmill and for sure won’t fall. it kind of feels like you’re doing a stunt or something, and chanel stands there and indulges you with a smile while you make all of your best ‘strapped into a harness’ jokes.

and then — you do walk. it’s slow going, the treadmill barely moving, and your legs feel sluggish and so weak and almost not like your own. it’s been two months since you took a step and it feels like a fucking miracle. chanel wipes a tear or two from her own eyes, even though you can only walk for five minutes and are sweating kind of profusely — it’s a fucking miracle, and she understands it too.

‘what are you frowning at?’

she rolls her eyes and pockets her phone, easily pedaling with insane resistance on the peleton next to you while you struggle to get your legs to listen to your brain and pedal at all. ‘idiot bros on twitter. “trans women don’t belong in women’s sports” and all that bullshit.’

you stop trying to pedal because you’re already entirely unsuccessful today and now you’re not able to focus at all. ‘fuck them.’

she grins. ‘yeah.’

‘i’ll beat them up, just you watch.’

it makes her laugh, and you think she knows you really would physically get into a fight — on or off the field — if anyone ever said anything to her.

‘plus, i can take you 1v1.’

‘in your dreams, silva.’

‘i’m going to, again. don’t even think i won’t.’

chanel pats your hand; you feel it all. ‘i’ve always known you could do it. i’ve never thought you wouldn’t, ava.’

you duck your head, unused to genuine praise after all this time stuck in the same boring, discouraging, painful rooms at the spine center, even though all of your doctors and nurses and therapists had been nice.

‘but,’ she says, ‘first you gotta pedal on this bike.’

‘it’s hard,’ you whine.

‘you’re just distracted.’

you look at the game you’d turned on, beatrice xin currently with two goals and two assists, and sigh. ‘i’m horny.’

it gets the biggest, best laugh out of chanel, and you feel a little something like pride bloom in your chest: you love making people you care about laugh.

‘fine, fine,’ you grumble. you look down at your feet, your quads and calves so small and pale compared to six months ago; you try to breathe through the immediate fear and the tiny bit of shame that pops up. but you focus, feel your feet firmly on the pedals, think about how you know how to ride a bike; you know how to stand up straight and put on pants and kick a ball. the back brace you have on feels tight, feels restricting — but you focus on activating your quads, then your hamstrings, and you eventually get the pedals to move.

‘hell yeah,’ chanel says.

‘if you try to give me a high five right now i think i’ll get all scrambled if i try to move my hand.’

she laughs, reaches over and pats the top of your head instead.

‘ava silva,’ chanel says, and you grin; you can’t help it. she holds her phone at a, thankfully, flattering angle as you walk along the beach — slowly, but steady: you trust you won’t fall, that you’re strong enough and getting stronger. ‘what does freedom feel like?’

chanel has like… three million followers, and she loves social media, something that your old club has always been thrilled about. they hadn’t renewed your contract, but you’d understood; they’re still paying for all of your medical care, so you don’t really feel upset, just a sense of loss you’re not quite ready to name. but chanel loves you, and she’s so, so happy for you — even if you never play again, you’re walking and even starting to run now; you’re in pain but it’s manageable. it’s okay.

‘it feels —‘ euphoric; devastating — ‘like a miracle.’

you flop down on chanel’s neatly made and extravagent bed; you’ve been staying in her guest room — which she had turned into her closet, so it’s still kind of packed with all of her beautiful clothes, although there is a very expensive bed for you — and training until, hopefully, you can get signed somewhere. she doesn’t even look up from her ipad when you sigh. ‘hello, ava.’

‘i have a favor to ask that i actually think you’ll be interested in.’

she pauses whatever she’s doing, then looks up. ‘i’m listening.’

‘well! okay, so. as you know, i’ve basically only worn hospital gowns and sweats for the last year and a half, and before that, i was, like, a child.’

chanel perks up, and you can practically see the wheels in her head turning already.

‘and now, wherever i get signed, you know, people are gonna care, and want interviews and all this stuff. so, in small part, i want to feel good about how i look for this next chapter of football.’

‘i love it,’ she says. ‘and what’s the large part?’

you flop back again, just for the dramatics. ‘i am… so horny. like, you don’t even understand.’

she laughs. ‘JC is nice though, right?’

‘yeah,’ you say, because he is. ‘but, like, girls.’

she pauses for a second, a happy smile on her face. ‘so, you want to look… more… bisexual?’

‘i mean, i do already? because i am? right?’

‘well, of course, ava.’ it’s gentle and reassuring but still a little amused.

‘but — yeah. like, i want to pick stuff i love, my clothes and my hair and whatever, gain back control, blah blah, everything my therapist is always going on about.’

‘your therapist is great, you love her.’

‘sure.’ she is; you do. ‘so anyway, i just — i guess i just want to feel like myself.’

‘now that,’ chanel says, ‘is a favor i love.’

‘you’re sure?’

‘it doesn’t matter if i’m sure,’ chanel says, sitting in the hairdresser’s chair next to yours. you have the salon to yourselves; she’d booked you a private appointment with her hairstylist immediately.

you turn to said stylist, dimitri, with their chic and very neat fade. ‘are you sure?’

‘like chanel said,’ they say. ‘it only matters what you want. we don’t have to do anything big.’

you look in the mirror; you hadn’t had the real opportunity to get a haircut in a long time, being in the hospital and rehab and then spending as much time as you could training after that. you haven’t, really, taken the time to deeply care for yourself, something your therapist has been bothering you about. you want, so badly, to live as big as you can. as much as you can.

‘well, i’m sure, as long as you think it’ll, like, be good for my face shape or whatever.’

chanel and dimitri share a quick glance and then chanel rolls her eyes. ‘ava, you have to know that you’re beautiful, right?’

you pause for what you feel is an appropriate amount of time. ‘yes.’

‘but since you asked,’ dimitri says, ‘i do think this will be great for your face shape.’

‘alright,’ you say, feeling suddenly very excited and a little buoyed. ‘let’s fucking do it, then.’

chanel cheers and dimitri grins; they wash your hair gently, and you feel a little panicked until chanel starts talking about the threesome she had a few nights ago, which is delightful and grounding enough you stay, fairly easily, in the present of this beautiful, outrageously expensive salon, the control you get to have. not that you’re thrilled about your therapist being completely 100% correct, but… she was right.

dimitri dries your hair and then combs it out patiently, divides it and then clips up the top part. ‘ready?’

‘definitely.’

chanel grins and it’s easy, so much easier than you knew it would be, to sit and watch yourself become. you’re filled with a sense of joy, this tiny seed that grows as dimitri cuts your hair to your chin precisely, and asks you about your plans for the day, and food you love, and chanel talks about her latest modeling contract — in addition to football, which amazes you in a way that makes you feel proud in the very center of your chest, this incredible person who showed up and helped take care of you. you feel your shoulders relax; you feel your feet firmly in the new sneakers converse had sent you, comfortable and cool; you even take time to feel your butt in the chair with the knowledge that you don’t need to do any pressure reliefs or weight shifts because, when dimitri is done, you’ll be able to stand up and walk and dance and run and even play football. and even if — even if — one day, you couldn’t, you have your friends and your teammates and your life.

‘you look hot, ava,’ chanel says, very genuinely, after dimitri finishes with a leave in, then shows you how to dry your hair and recommends a light oil.

‘go ahead,’ they say, ‘run your hands through it, all that jazz.’

to touch; to feel. you think you might cry, all of a sudden, with your soft hair that you picked, that you wanted, and chanel takes in your wobbling bottom lip and then tuts and pulls you toward her. because of your height difference, your face is basically smooshed into her chest and, even though you do cry, you laugh too, wet and messy and alive.

‘this probably my favorite place in the world,’ you say.

chanel shoves you playfully and you grin up at her.

‘thank you.’

she waves you off, as she always does when she’s a little overwhelmed too. ‘don’t thank me yet. now we have to go shopping.’

it’s not as bad as you’d feared; despite the fact that chanel only wears the most elegant designer clothes — her closet is full of gucci and bottega and, of course, chanel, and a whole shelf of louboutins — but she also loves you and knows you, deeply, and so when her driver pulls up to a row of a few very cool-looking thrift stores, you have to hug her again. she gives you helpful feedback on pieces and outfits and you feel, quite genuinely, happier than maybe you ever have. you buy crop tops and high waisted, loose jeans and a few sweaters you love; some silly earrings and a necklace and a cap that chanel laughs at, but fondly enough you know it works. you find a men’s button up with a bunch of flames on it and she rolls her eyes but you put it on anyway, knot it at your waist so it feels just above your shorts.

‘do i look bi?’

‘you look a little bit crazy, but i definitely wouldn’t think you’re straight.’

you’re practically shaking with excitement: ‘it’s… flaming. i’m flaming! get it!’

chanel groans. ‘ava,’ she says, but wraps an arm around your shoulders and throws it on the growing pile anyway.

you feel happier than maybe you ever have until the next morning, when you come back from a silly game of football on the beach with her and JC and a few of your other friends, your hair spilling out of the tiny bun you’d managed to get it into, which had made you laugh, and sit down to have some burrata — another one of your favorites that chanel indulges in getting for you from time to time, even did while you were in the hospital and she had to put it on little crackers and feed it to you herself — and then accept a call from your agent. you step inside to take it, close the door softly.

after it’s done, you yank the door open this time, burst onto the patio. all of your nerves are alive; in your shorts, your legs look strong again, tan and muscular and capable.

‘good news?’

you’re almost too excited to explain that you’re getting signed by your favorite club, $6 million for the year, with, if all goes well, an option to extend your contract another season after. a bonus: they just hired dr. jillian salvius, one of the best sports specialists in the world. all of your care will be, of course, included.

chanel starts to cry, which makes you start to cry, and she hugs you to her tightly.

‘i am so happy for you,’ she says. ‘and i’m really gonna miss you.’

‘i’m gonna miss you too,’ you tell her.

she backs up and puts her hands on your shoulders, a smile sneaking up her face. ‘you know, i happen to remember your favorite player in the whole entire world playing at a certain club.’

you hadn’t really thought past football and then six million dollars, but — ‘fuck.’

chanel laughs, face beautiful and delicate and rich in the sun. ‘i can’t wait to show her pictures of you in her jersey.’

‘oh god, are there any on my instagram? i have to go check.’

she just keeps laughing, and it’s all brimming, so wonderful, right at your fingertips.

you sign a few days later, your hands steady.

‘well,’ chanel asks, lounging back in bed on zoom, ‘how was day one?’

‘oh my god.’ your hair is still wet from the shower you took at the training grounds; you had raced back to your new apartment to make sure you were on time for your call. ‘i got there early, to play a little bit, get the nerves out, you know. and guess who was there and wanted to play 1v1?’

she grins. ‘no fucking way.’

‘i got schooled, obviously,’ you say, think of the way beatrice xin had moved with the ball, how surely she went into tackles, how precise she was. ‘i did score twice, though, and nutmegged her once. greatest football moment of my life, i’m pretty sure.’

‘what’s she like?’

you think chanel is probably humoring you, but you don’t care. ‘beatrice is… beautiful.’ it’s really the only word you have: her neat bun that stayed in place perfectly other than a few errant strands by the end of the session today; her clipped, lovely accent; the way her calves had looked while she was sprinting; the delicate lines of her face; her freckles and her eyes; how she had been serious and professional but kind; her strong back, muscles rippling under her skin in a way that made you shiver, in the locker room when she had untucked her quarterzip and pulled it over her head; how she seemed lonely, despite it all. ‘she’s really beautiful.’

it’s a while later when the sheer mortification dawns on you, but then beatrice, in her weird, hot, hilarious way, seems to dissipate the extreme embarrassment you’re going to be faced with by being embarrassing first.

��hello, chanel.’ she reaches out her hand very seriously, in her favorite linen jumpsuit and a very expensive pair of off-white dunks and black, cat eye sunglasses that are honestly cooler than you expected, in front of her favorite nice brunch place. chanel shoots you a glance and then shakes bea’s hand firmly while you both try not to laugh.

‘hey, it’s great to meet you.’

‘you, as well,’ bea says. ‘i — before we sit, i just wanted to extend my admiration, for the work you have done both on and off the field for trans equity in our sport.’

it’s so serious, and so genuine, chanel seems a little disarmed and a little affected. ‘thank you.’

bea nods once, seriously. ‘and, maybe more importantly, even, my deep gratitude, for caring for ava. she’s spoken so highly of you, and it means — i love her,’ bea decides on, after a pause. ‘i’m glad, immeasurably so, that she has people who love her too.’

chanel suspiciously sniffles. ‘can i give you a hug? is that weird?’

bea smiles, a real smile, your favorite, and opens her arms. you resist the urge, passionately, to make a joke about how the two hottest (sorry, lilith) women you know together is really gonna do it for you during your alone time later, which is honestly a fucking feat.

‘well,’ chanel says, ‘i made a presentation of every embarrassing thing ava has done that you should know about.’

‘oh no.’

bea loops her arm with chanel when she gallantly offers, and bea says, ‘oh yes.’ you trail behind them, feeling short and small and bursting with happiness. chanel orders basically the entire menu for you to try and she and bea laugh at your expense when chanel opens her phone and does, indeed, have an entire canva presentation of you being embarrassing, but you don’t really mind at all. the sun warms your shoulders and you drink champagne that costs way too much money, the bubbles bright on your tongue. chanel laughs and bea puts her hand on your thigh, just like that: you feel it all.

#avatrice fic #avatrice #footy au #wn #warrior nun fic #anyway completely missed opportunity on the show to have chanel be the STAR OF THE SHOW lmfao so here she is in all her glory i love her #i WILL put it up on ao3 just in a hot minute lol

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