#i think that for the sake of this fic i am simply not going to mention it and it will be fine

[syn4k]

also uh while i'm writing something in this era of s2. are we ever going to talk about that time at the very end of the season that tucker literally murdered a bunch of defenseless children that were the last of what remained of ianite at mianite's behest and the only reason that any survived was because jordan and martha agreed on something for once in their goddamn lives and worked together to hide one where tucker couldn't find it? because im gonna be real right now: what the fuck was that. What the actual fuck. It didn't even lead to anything. Ianite wasn't even revived afterwards so narratively it was all for nothing anyways. Genuinely, what the fuck man.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

The way you hold me [B. R.]

Bob Reynolds x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

request from @littlemsbumblebee: If you take fic requests, could you do one with like late night cuddles with Bob? The readers heating isn’t working but she finds warmth in Bobs arms or something like that… maybe friends to lovers or whatever. I’m in the mood for cute Bob fluff.

masterlist

AN: Thanks for sending me this message! I hope you like it, darling 💌

You'd think the Watchtower, with all its technological prowess, would be exempt from the electrical problems that accompanied heavy rains in New York. You discovered that wasn't the case.

Due to the renovations, Valentina hadn't maintained the private power plant—designed for emergencies like this—so all of you were tied up. You could survive without most things that required electricity, but what affected you the most was the lack of heating.

The city froze every time it rained, and being so close to the clouds from which the rain was coming didn't help at all. To top it all off, your winter clothes were still packed in one of those boxes that would be almost impossible to find in the dim light. The situation was catastrophic.

Your last hope was to go to the kitchen and fumble through the cupboards for something that might warm you up. For God's sake, even a few sips of alcohol sounded like heaven compared to the numbness in your limbs.

You weren't the only one with that idea. As soon as you crossed the threshold, you saw someone else's silhouette in the shadows. It wasn't Bucky; if it had been, his arm would have reflected the faint light that filtered through the windows. Based on his posture, you ruled out John, and based on his height, you ruled out Alexei. There was only one logical choice left.

“Bob, it’s me,” you murmured, trying not to scare him. Still, he jumped instead.

"Hey…"

“Looking for a snack?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “Sometimes I eat out of anxiety. The darkness makes me very nervous.”

“I can’t believe the conditions Valentina has us in…”

At your complaint, he smiled, probably agreeing, and made room for you to find your own supplies. Apparently, the chattering of your teeth didn't go unnoticed, because a minute later your friend approached you.

“Are you cold?”

“So much,” you exclaimed, sincerely. “I couldn’t even find a fucking hoodie, and with the lack of heating, I feel like I’m freezing.”

You reached out to him, as if you needed to prove it. Bob took your hand without hesitation, hissing at the feel of your icy skin against his own, which was, oddly, warm.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have lent you one of my sweaters."

“I didn’t think of that,” you chuckled.

With your eyes already adjusted to the lack of light, you managed to see a disapproving expression on his face. Then that grimace transformed into a pair of open eyes, as if he'd just remembered something.

“I have a fleece blanket in my room, I'll lend it to you. We don't want you to get sick."

You wanted to refuse his offer, saying a sweater would do, but a sneeze broke the silence and answered for you. Bob laughed, not mockingly, but affectionately. You knew the way to his room, so there was no need for him to guide you… but he took your hand anyway. And you, of course, didn't protest.

“How come you’re so warm?”

“Am I?” he whispered, turning slightly as he continued walking.

The bedroom door closed behind you, and when he let go of your hand, yours immediately missed his. You hugged yourself, hoping to even out the heat, and waited a few minutes until he, with a triumphant expression, pulled out a large piece of cloth.

You expected him to offer it to you simply, but instead, he gently placed it on your shoulders and snuggled it around your chest. Then, both hands moved up your arms, rubbing them up and down, as if trying to transfer the warmth to you more quickly.

He didn't move away. He kept his hands on your arms for a few seconds longer, as if he needed that touch too, as if his warmth wasn't just physical, but a way of being with you when words weren't enough.

Outside, the rain pounded steadily against the windows, and you, wrapped in the blanket, began to relax. But you noticed he didn't do the same. His body remained somewhat tense, as if his mind was elsewhere.

“Does the darkness really make you nervous?” you asked softly, gently, without mockery. “Or is it the rain?”

Bob was slow to respond. Then he shrugged, as if he didn't know where to begin.

“Darkness generally makes me uncomfortable, but I think it’s the rain that’s getting to me today,” he finally said. “It reminds me of when I was a kid. The noises outside, the blowing of the wind… I always thought something was going to break. Sometimes I still wait for it.”

His words reached you with a tenderness that was hard to describe. It wasn't easy for him to talk about it, but he did it with you. And you wanted him to know you understood, even if you couldn't explain everything.

So you didn't say anything else. You just lifted one of your hands from the blanket, slowly, and brought it to his arm. You touched it lightly, with your fingers, as if you were asking something without a voice. And he answered you in the same way: by moving closer.

Bob stood in front of you. He didn't look at you directly, just exhaled slowly, and you took advantage of the space between you to lean against his chest, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. The warmth was immediate. Not just from the blanket, but from him. From the way he held you loosely, as if he knew exactly how much you needed to feel protected.

You spent a few seconds like that, in complete silence, his chin resting on your head and your fingers tentatively tangling with the folds of his shirt. The sound of the rain seemed muffled from inside, as if your arms were creating a small shelter from the world.

Bob leaned in slightly, and with his voice wrapped in that warmth of his that always disarmed you, he whispered:

“Is the blanket helping?”

You nodded against his chest, unwilling to pull away to respond with words, and also trying to hide the silly smile on your face.

"Thank you"

He didn't answer immediately, as if he was choosing his words carefully, and finally said:

“Next time something like this happens… come with me right away. Whatever it is. I'd hate for you to get sick, I really would.”

You snuggled into his arms, feeling everything melt away in the warmth he offered. With a soft smile and a gentle gaze, you looked up to meet his eyes. Your voice was barely a whisper:

“My knight in golden armor… what would I do without you?”

Bob looked away slightly, with his typical modesty, and answered sincerely:

“It’s nothing. Anyone would have done the same for you.”

His shrug made you angry. Because, maybe your friends would have offered you shelter, but they wouldn't have held you the way he was doing. Because you would have turned to someone else for a sweater, but not for a tender hug that made you feel safe. Bob was so wrong, because maybe someone else could do that for you, but you weren't going to let anyone else be as close as he was.

Something was brewing inside you that was difficult to contain, a feeling that had been latent for quite some time: an impulse motivated by the privacy that silence and darkness now provided you.

Carefully, you removed one hand from the blanket and brought it up to rest on the side of his face. He looked at you in surprise, but didn't move away.

“Let me pamper you a little, okay? You deserve it.”

Without waiting any longer, you leaned in close to kiss his face delicately: a soft kiss on the cheek that made Bob close his eyes and smile involuntarily. Your lips slowly traced the line of his jaw, leaving a trail of warmth and unspoken promises, until you placed another kiss: he sighed. Finally, you brushed your lips over the curve of his ear, and Bob felt a shiver run through his skin, a mixture of surprise and excitement. By the time you placed another caress there, he was already completely lost.

The subtle aroma of coffee—which he had probably had before—seemed to float in the air, mixed with Bob's natural fragrance.

When you pulled away and looked up, your eyes met Bob’s. With a playful twinkle in them and a shy smile, he asked:

"Is this a common thing? Do you thank other people this way?"

“No,” you replied, firm but sweet, “for the moment I’ll reserve it for you.”

Bob hesitated for a moment, his breathing suddenly labored, and then he managed to grab your hand, which was still pressed against his skin. In a low, sincere voice, he whispered to you:

“You’re still freezing. I think I should help you a little more, don’t you?”

You looked at him, coziness combined with a certain confusion reflected in your eyes, and before you could respond, it was Bob who took your face in his hands. Then he slowly leaned in to join your lips in a kiss. It was tender and slow, as if his sole purpose was to warm you from the inside out, until you ended up with your back pressed against the wall just a step behind you.

There was no clumsiness in his movements, just a controlled smoothness, as if Bob knew you needed everything to go slowly. That you didn't want to lose the warmth you'd gained, but rather let it spread between you like the blanket on your back.

His lips moved against yours with a sweetness so honest it hurt. There was no rush, no pretense, just that quiet desire to make you feel good, safe, accompanied. His nose brushed yours briefly as he pulled away, as if he didn't want to let you go completely, and you sighed, closing your eyes for a second longer to linger in the echo of him.

When you opened them again, he was looking at you with something that seemed like a mixture of tenderness and wonder. As if he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but didn't regret it for a second.

“Did it help?” he asked, barely a whisper through the rain.

You nodded again, biting your lip, smiling helplessly.

“Yes, it did,” you breathed out, a sigh that seemed to envelop the entire moment.

Bob let out a small laugh and rested his forehead against yours.

“I think we should stay here for a while,” he said, “Just in case.”

You didn't argue. Neither of you were ready to break the shelter you'd built together. You let yourself be wrapped in his arms once more, feeling like putty between his fingers, occasionally receiving a few kisses on the skin his lips reached.

Bob was no longer afraid. And you were no longer cold.

taglist: @littlemsbumblebee @qardasngan

[irrevocablecondition]

okay big talk time. in light of the UK Supreme Court ruling, i'm seeing a lot of posts about fandom spaces. i woke up to see a tiktok that says "if you write fanfic, there's blood on your hands too",,, so let's talk about it.

because there is no refuting that fandom spaces keep JKR relevant. there is no refuting that by producing any kind of media based on this franchise, we are engaging with her and we are keeping her universe relevant. we cannot deny that.

we often see people turn around and say "jkr would hateee what we write!" and that's true. that's so very true, but it isn't enough. your headcanons and your stories and your art Are Not Enough. particularly over on tiktok: if you post HP content over on that platform, you are promoting JKR. my existence in this space as a trans man is NOT an act of protest. everything else i do is, so what do we do about that?

we NEED to be talking about these things. about jkr, about her money, about her actions, about the bigotry in the source material, and if you are not in a position where you can have those conversations, then you need to be listening. because engagement with jkr is infact life of death.

and we carry that guilt. we do, of course we do. if you are somebody who hasn't yet been able to let go of this series like me, then we carry that guilt. even more so if you are a member of any of the communities that jkr has harmed - the guilt is heavy.

but,,, let me make one thing clear: this is not your guilt.

if you are not profiting her. directly, then you are carrying guilt that is not yours to carry. that guilt is hers to bear, and the lives we are about to lose are on her conscious. we have been forced, time and time again, to carry the weight of her bigotry.

but,,, we're carrying it. and i think there's a certain amount of guilt that makes us better. i think there's a certain amount of guilt that makes us more conscious human beings, and that makes us more receptive to these discussions.

you can use that guilt, you really can. you can talk. you can listen. you can educate. you can step away if the guilt gets too much. you can use that guilt for something good.

do NOT push it away. whilst it isn't ours to carry, we are not in a position where we can throw that guilt away and wash our hands of it - we are here, we are engaging, we have to accept that. if we simply pretend as though we are not, then all we do is cause harm.

because fandom spaces can do a lot of good, especially for those that jkr has harmed. fandom spaces can do so much good, but only if we are conscious of the ways in which we are engaging, and we are willing to sit and have these difficult conversations.

if i were not in the position i am in now, i would leave. i would leave this fandom space and at this point? i am in fact urging those of you are able to, to go. for your own sakes and the sakes of everyone around you.

but as someone who has been having conversations about JKR for ages? i am in no position to step back. i'm in no position to turn away and give up. not when there are so many people who benefit from these discussions and who benefit from safe spaces.

and the reason it's a safe space? it's because I Talk. because i Have These Discussions. and no matter how much i do, i am still promoting her when i go on to post a headcanon or update my fics. i am still promoting her when i engage in this space.

and there's still guilt.

don't chuck that guilt aside, let it fuel you in making safe spaces safe again.

there is absolutely no refuting that by being in this space we are causing harm. so if you are not in a position to leave this space, here's some things you can do to make it easier for everyone both in and out of it:

Listen. if you are not in a position to talk about JKR, then actively listen. actively listen, understand, process, and adapt.

Merchandise: stop posting your merch, secondhand or not. you know that you get comments asking "where did you get this!?", stop posting it. makes that small adjustment for wider good

Keep educated: on the bigotry in the books so that you aren't perpetuating it, on jkr's actions, on politics. keep educated as much as you can to make sure that you are not unwillingly causing harm in what you are doing

Block: block those who are going to the studios, who are posting merch, who are talking about the reboot, who are doing ANYTHING to support her. if you see a video? comment on it. the continued relevance of people in this space who have supported a bigot is Immense. do not allow for complacency - bigotry is bigotry no matter how many views it gets you.

and above all, hold that guilt. hold it. feel it. utilise it.

and if you are in a position where you can leave this space? then i encourage you to do so. i encourage you to Move On, and find new ventures. i encourage you to do that if you can. and if you can't, then i'll still be here to guide you through it all and keep having these difficult talks.

[curawrites]

Forgiveness and Love

Brennan Sorrengail x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fourth Wing and Iron Flame spoilers, angst, fluff, cursing, smut, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie, getting married, unplanned pregnancy, birth.

Note: Thank you guys so much for all of the support with my Xaden fic! Part two is in the works at the moment! But right now I’m loving me some Brennan 💚

Tag list: @ttheslutttybookwworm @mazzer @luvly-writer @sheblogs

It had been six years since you had died. Six years since you’ve seen your family, or your friends. Six years that you’ve been living in Aretia with Brennan Sorrengail.

You see when Brennan “died” during the rebellion, so did you. Ever since the moment you had bonded your mated dragons, Marbh and Elspeth, your lives have forever been intertwined.

You remembered waking up next to Brennan on the cliffside, wounded and bloodied. He had not been awake, in a panic you screamed his name, shaking him vilolently until he came to.

You had reluctantly agreed to hide with him in Aretia, thinking you’d stay until it was safer to return home.

But then he decided he wanted to join the Assembly.

“Brennan I thought we were going to go back.” You sighed heavily.

“My love, we can’t. They think we’re dead.” He gently took your hands in his. “But we have a duty here.”

You yanked your hands back, “You mean you have a duty here. I haven’t joined the Assembly.”

“Y/n, please.. we can’t do nothing. Not after we know the truth.” Brennan pleaded softly.

“Our families deserve to know the truth!” You cried out. “Brennan, I have siblings to take care of! My parents need me!”

“I left my family behind too!” His voice rose.

“But you chose to!! I didn’t.” You yelled. “You didn’t give me that choice and how fucking dare you, Brennan. My parents could die and I wouldn’t know! They would think that once Malek takes them that I’ll be waiting for them. But I won’t because im here!! I won’t even get to see my siblings grow up! All of my friends think I’m dead. We promised to live to see each other get married! I promised to make them the god parents of our children for fuck sakes!” Angry tears ran down your face.

Brennan cringed, feeling the weight of his actions settling on his shoulders, “I’m so sorry Y/n…” he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You should be.” You spat.

“I am truly-“ he took a step towards you.

You took a step back, “Go away. I don’t want to speak to you ever again.” You glared at him.

“Y/n… please.. I love you..” he tried to reach out.

“And I hate you!!” You screamed in his face.

A tear ran down his cheek, “Y-you don’t mean that..” he said quietly, desperately trying to reach you through your bond.

Your shields were firmly up and practically impenetrable, “I do. With every fiber of my being. I hate you Brennan Sorrengail.” You said before storming out of the room.

That was the last thing you had ever said to him for two years.

During those years you had decided to join the Assembly. Not having any other choice realistically. At least the work could offer a nice distraction from all the hurt and anger you were feeling.

While you and Brennan both moved into Riorson house, you never saw each other. That was of your own doing, having picked the farthest room from his, constantly avoiding any eye contact, and dodging any effort he made to speak with you whether physically or mentally through your bond. You kept your shields firmly up around him and while he operated from Riorson house you were out risking your life, fighting venin, delivering weapons, and gathering intel.

Despite being given the silent treatment, Brennan never stopped loving you. You could hate him as much as you want, and avoid him at every turn but he just couldn’t let you go.

On every anniversary, birthday, Valentine’s Day, and even on random days you would find a gift by the door to your room. They varied from simply a bouquet of your favourite flowers, a gift basket, chocolates, or bandages for the wounds you refused to have him mend. All of them came with their own hand written love letter, in which he poured his soul into.

Brennan needed you to know he still loved you and that he always would, even if you no longer felt the same.

It didn’t matter if you read the letters or not, as long as you had them and kept them, it was enough for him.

The gifts annoyed you at first. Hadn’t he gotten the hint that you wanted nothing to do with him? Did he really think that he’d win you back with frivolous gifts? How long was it going to take until he decides to stop and give up?

But the gifts never stopped coming.

For the first year you let the love letters pile up in a corner of your room, still to hurt and angry to read them.

Sometime after that, during a particularly emotional time you caved and read every letter back to back.

With every letter your heart broke over and over again. His lettered were so raw, so loving, so pure.

You couldn’t understand how the man could still love you and it made you feel so guilty.

So you avoided Brennan for another year out of fear. Sure, you fought venin almost every other day, but facing your estranged lover? Now that was somehow more horrifying.

Finally after many months, you decided it was time to stop hiding and talk to him. Your entire being ached for him. You missed his laugh, his smile, the feeling of his hand in yours, and the way he looked at you so sweetly.

Having finally worked up the courage, you left him your own letter in his office for him to find.

Brennan had returned to his office after another lonely dinner only to find the letter on his desk.

He immediately recognized your hand writing and didn’t even hesitate to open it.

My dearest Brennan,

For the past two years I have lived in anger and fear. I have pushed you out of my life thinking I would feel better and I have lived miserably because of it. I miss you so much and I am so sorry for the words I said to you the last time we spoke. Please meet me under the stars tonight if you wish to speak with me. I will not ever hold it against you if you do not as I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I wish to let you know that I forgive you Brennan and that I still love you so much.

Sincerely, Y/n.

Brennan could feel his heart swell and his eyes water as he read the letter over and over again.

You wanted to talk to him again. Tonight.

As he looked out of the window, he noticed that night had already fallen. You must already be waiting for him.

Wasting no time, Brennan ran through the maze that was Riorson house to get to the garden outside. So much time had already past without you and he didn’t want to waste another second.

When he finally found you, you were standing in the garden looking up at the sky.

“Y/n..” he whispered softly into the night. Tears threaten to spill down his cheeks.

You looked away from the stars and looked at him, “Brennan..” you choked back a sob.

He ran to you and picked you up into his arms. A squeal of surprise escaped you as you were suddenly air born before being pulled into a crushing embrace.

You broke down, clinging onto him like he was going to disappear, “I’m so sorry.. so sorry..” you kept repeating as sobs wracked your body.

“It’s okay my love, I forgive you.. I’ll always forgive you..” he kissed your temples tenderly, shedding a few tears of his own.

Once you calmed down you rested your head against his chest, “I love you, Brennan.. and I’m sorry for what I said the last time we spoke.. I regret saying those words every day. I’m sorry that I hurt you..” you apologized sincerely.

Brennan gently swayed you from side to side, “I love you too, Y/n. So much.. and I forgive you.. I missed you so much..” he sniffled, “I should have never taken that decision without talking to you first, I didn’t have the right, and I’m sorry for that.”

“I forgive you.. and I missed you too, so much..” You hiccuped wiping your tears with your sleeves.

You stayed outside late into the night, talking about everything and anything, just enjoying the presence of one another after being apart for so long.

When you both started getting tired, you reluctantly let him walk you back to your room.

“I don’t want this night to end..” you admitted.

“Neither do I..” he spoke softly as he caressed your knuckles , “But we’ll see each other tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay..” you nodded hesitantly, as you slowly opened the door to your room.

Brennan pressed a tender kiss to your hand, before bidding you good night. Leaving you flustered and giddy.

After that night, you slowly began to rekindle your relationship.

It began by going on dinner dates. Brennan was still ever the romantic, opening doors for you, getting you flowers, pushing in your chair at dinner, and always walking you back to your room late into the night.

On some nights you’d end up going back to his room, lips locked and hands roaming each other’s bodies. These occurrences became more frequent and by then you were sleeping in his bed more than your own.

As the months passed, your relationship had grown stronger than it had ever been, and the bond you shared was even deeper and more intimate.

By the end of the year, you had practically moved into Brennan’s room. Your clothes were in his drawers, your slippers and robe by his bed, and your tooth brush and beauty products had taken over the free space on his bathroom counter. You had even been sleeping with him every night for four months at this point.

He thought it was about time for you to move in with him.

“My love.” He called out to you one evening. Having looked up from the thick novel he had been reading.

“Yes?” You answered peaking your head out of his bathroom, a fresh face mask covering your pretty face.

He chuckled softly, “I think we should move the rest of your stuff in here.”

Your eyes widened, “You want me to move in?”

He nodded, “I think it’s about time don’t you think?”

You bit your lip, barely holding back the beaming smile that made its way onto your face, “Yeah I think so too, Bren.”

The next day you officially moved in what little possessions you still had in your old room into the room you and Brennan would permanently share.

You also decided to start taking on less dangerous work, preferring working with Brennan in his office.

Brennan had been very relieved by your decision, no longer did he have to worry about you endangering yourself everyday. He had your right by his side, sharing his office and helping him work through all the work he had pilling up.

Living together had been the best decision you had ever made. You both found yourself well rested and more at peace ever since. It also allowed you to spend even more time together, whether it was in the evening or in the morning.

Waking up to each other every morning had grown to be one of your and Brennan’s greatest pleasures.

“Good morning..” you breathed out softly.

The morning sun beamed through the gap in the curtains covering the window, causing you to squint as your eyes adjusted to the brightness.

“Good morning my love..” Brennan smiled down at you as he gently caressed the bare skin of your back.

“How long have you been up?” You asked, scooting up to press a tender kiss to his lips.

He cupped your face and kissed you back, “Not long I promise..” he murmured before kissing you again.

A blush settled over your cheeks as he settled on top of you. The morning light contoured your features perfectly, giving you an ethereal glow.

He stared at you for a moment before breathing out, “You’re stunning..”

Your blush darkened, “Brennan..” you whined.

“What? I can’t help it that you look stunning.” He chuckled before leaning down to continue kissing you.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer. Soft breaths left you as he kissed down your neck to your collarbone before stoping where your tang top covered your chest.

He looked up to gaze into your eyes, “Y/n.. I need you~” he whispered softly.

Your heart raced, “Then have me, Brennan..~” you whispered back, reaching for the bottom of your tang top.

You took it off, leaving your chest bare. Brennan licked his lips before kissing the soft skin of your breasts.

“You’re perfect..~” he breathed out before taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Bren..~” you gasped softly as he began to suck and swirl his tongue around your bud.

He slowly released your right nipple, only to go and do the same to your left one. Repeating the pattern over and over.

You grasped at his short hair, sighing softly as your nipples pebbled from the stimulation.

After a moment he released your bud from his mouth with a soft pop before trailing kisses down the length of your torso.

You could feel your wetness soaking your underwear as you watched him.

Once he reached the band of your underwear his kisses stopped, making you whine.

Brennan tore his gaze from your body to lock eyes with you, “May I?~” He asked, hand grasping at the elastic.

You nodded vigorously, “Please..~”

He pulled off your underwear and parted your legs.

“Beautiful..~” he breathed out before delving in.

A gasp left you as he began sucking on your clit.

“Oh gods~ Bren-“ you moaned, lacing your fingers into his hair.

All you could do was moan in pleasure as Brennan ate your pussy like a man starved. While his tongue explored your tight walls his thumb rubbed circled on your clit, causing to writhe and leak more of your juices into his awaiting mouth.

“Oh..~ Brennan!~ I’m gunna cum..~” your hips bucked into his face.

Brennan responded by wrapping his arms around your hips, shoving his face further into your pussy, and rubbing your clit even faster.

“Bren!~” you cried out before you came, hips jerking and twitching from the waves of pleasure wracking your body.

Brennan drank every drop of your essence, savouring your tangy taste before removing himself from between your legs.

“You’re amazing at that..~” you breathily chuckled, cheeks flushed and your naked body covered in a sheen of sweat.

He smiled bashfully, “When you taste that good, of course I am~” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, the flush of your cheeks darkening, “Shut up and take off your pants.~”

“Yes ma’am.~” he chuckled as he pulled down his underwear, freeing his hard cock.

Brennan stroked himself at the sight of you bare and flushed before him. The way the light hit you made you look like a goddess.

The sight made you even wetter with need, “I want you inside so bad Bren..~” you whined, spreading your legs.

The comment drove him to the edge, he could barely hold himself back anymore. Brennan planted himself on top of you, grinding his cock into your wetness.

“Ready?~” he asked, looking into your list blown eyes for permission.

“Always~” you replied breathily.

Brennan pushed himself inside of your tight heat, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock, “You feel so good..~ Gods..”

It took a minute for him to gather himself to not cum inside of you immediately.

Slowly he began moving, easing you into pleasure as he watching his cock disappear in and out of you. After a bit he worked up to the pace he knew you liked, and you fell apart.

“Feels so good Bren..~” you mewled, wrapping your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer to your heated body. “So so good..~”

“I love you so much..~” he whispered in your ear, “Your mine, all mine~” he kissed your neck.

“All yours!~” you gasped as his thrust got sharper, “Always yours I promise~”

Brennan pulled you into a kiss, swallowing all of your noises and moans as he made love to you.

“Oh my gods Bren..~ I’m so close~ please keep going~” you panted, you had been teetering on the edge of bliss just waiting to be finally pushed into ecstasy.

Brennan bit his lip, holding back his own moans of pleasure, “I know you are my love~ I can feel you.. squeezing me so damn tight..~” he panted.

You looked up at him, tightening the hold of your legs around him, “Please cum with me Bren..~ please, please.. cum inside of me I want to feel you fill me up Bren.~”

A cord inside of Brennan snapped, he couldn’t hold it anymore and he roughly pounded into you, making you scream out in pleasure as you gushed around him. The feeling of your tight fluttering walls pushed him over the edge and he buried himself deep inside of you before cumming.

“Feels so good..~” you sighed as Brennan’s cum flooded your insides. “I love you so much~” you kissed him sweetly.

“I love you to..~” he took deep breaths to ease his panting.

Brennan took in the sight of your fucked out state, looking over every inch of you. Your skin glistened with sweat, your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your hair was a beautiful mess against the pillow, and your eyes were filled with love and satisfaction.

“Marry me..” he blurted out.

Your gaze darted to his, “What..?”

His chest heaved, “Marry me. I mean- will you marry me?” His gaze turned shy.

Tears flooded your waterline, “Of course I’ll marry you Brennan..” you laughed softly.

A grin broke out on his face and he buried himself in your arms, “Thank you.. you make me so happy..”

You held him tightly, ignoring the slight crushing feeling of his weight on top of you, “I love you so much Brennan, I can’t imagine a world without you..” you sniffled.

You decided to keep the news of your engagement on the down low for at least a month. Brennan wanted to announced it when you finally got your engagement ring.

You were thankfully met with a lot of support from your fellow Assembly members and of course even more from your dragons. Marbh and Elspeth couldn’t be more proud of their humans for finally tying the knot.

You decided on a having a very private and minimal wedding. Just the two of you, your dragons and a few of your trusted Assembly members.

The wedding took place in a temple dedicated to Amari. It was early autumn, the sun was out but the air was cool. Everything was perfect.

Brennan cried the moment he saw you walking up to the alter. You just looked so gorgeous is your dress and veil, and your hair was styled perfectly.

You exchanged your vows, both in tears. The hidden meanings in the words you both spoke made it even more intimate and emotional.

Finally you sealed your union with a kiss. You were now Mr and Mrs Aisereigh, at least publicly. In private you were now Y/n Sorrengail.

The following year was spent in blissful marriage. Of course there were ups and downs as any relationship does but you always came back stronger.

Brennan was the most loving husband ever. He still gifted you flowers every month like he had for the past three years, and you still regularly went out on dates together.

You always made time for the other, even if it was just for a quiet evening, reading side by side, or a quick moment in between Assembly meetings to relieve some sexual tension. The magic just never died.

Of course you and Brennan had discussed children. It had come up before and after you married. You had both agreed that if you were to bring a child or children into this world it would be in a world where venin no longer existed.

That’s why when you still hadn’t gotten your period in a few weeks you began to worry.

The weeks prior you had chalked it up to the stress of knowing that the marked ones would finally start attending Basigath. You were really hoping that Xaden and Garrick were okay. Especially Xaden, he had the weight of the world on in his shoulders and it wasn’t fair.

But now that you were still late after knowing that they were fine, your mind began to swirl with the possibility that you were pregnant.

You and Brennan both were on the tonic so how could that be possible? Did you get a faulty batch? Did you forget to take it? Was it really as effective as it was advertised?

“My love are you okay?” Brennan’s soft voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“I-“ you sighed, “I don’t think so..” you ran your hands over your hair.

His expression morphed into one of concern, “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He stepped into the bathroom.

You closed your eyes, trying to blink your tears away, “I think I’m pregnant..” you whispered, looking at your husband nervously. “I um,, I haven’t gotten my period in a few weeks.. I- I thought that it was the stress of Xaden and the other marked ones having to go to Basigath b-but..”

Brennan took your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over your wedding band and engagement ring, “Are you.. are you sure..?” He asked, his tone hopeful.

Tears began running down your face, “Mhm..” you hummed while nodding, “I-I know we discussed not having kids until after the venin were gone.. and I understand if you..”

“Don’t finish that please..” Brennan firmly held your hands, “You have no idea how happy I am..” a tear ran down his cheek, “I love you Y/n and I will love our child even more.” He pulled you into a hug.

His heartfelt words made you sob, “Thank you..” you wrapped your arms tightly around him.

“Don’t thank me..” he pulled away from your embrace to wipe your tears, “We’ll do our best to give this child the life they deserve, okay.” He kissed you forehead.

You nodded, wiping your wet cheek, “We will.. together.” You smiled.

“I’m going to be a dad..” he whispered to himself.

You nodded slightly.

“I’m gonna be a dad!! He laughed joyfully as he picked you up and spun you around.

Brennan’s laughter was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“I’m going to be a mom!” You wrapped your arms around him.

He set you down and stared into your eyes,“We’re going to be parents..” he whispered lovingly.

Your eyes began to water again, “Bren.. you’re going to make me cry again..” you whined.

“I love you so much.. thank you for everything.” Brennan pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you to..” you rubbed your nose against his before pressing your lips to his.

Later that week you went to a healer to confirm and you were in fact pregnant.

The pregnancy was kept a secret from the Assembly for many months, just until you couldn’t hide your bump anymore.

Many members were rightfully skeptical and unsupportive. Bringing a child into the world at this moment was not the brightest idea but it’s not like you had planned this. But they eventually had to come around now that Brennan had risen to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

Speaking of your husband, Brennan was an absolute saviour. He handled your state with such care, making sure you didn’t have to lift a finger. He had even put together the nursery all by himself and surprised you.

Brennan always got you all of your crazy food cravings no matter the time. He never got mad when you had mood swings. He massaged your feet, and back whenever you needed. He’d hold your heavy stomach for you, lifting the weight of your stomach off of your back, and nothing could beat that feeling.. Well, maybe the pregnancy sex but it was a close race.

Brennan had read all the parenting and baby books he could get his hands on. He wanted to make sure you could both be as prepared as you could when your child entered the world.

A week before your due date, during the wee hours of the morning you were finally fast asleep, after having tossed and turned for hours trying to get comfortable.

“Gentle One wake up.” Elspeth voice echoed in your mind.

“No…” you groaned through your bond.

She chuffed annoyed by your dismissal, “You need to wake up. Now.”

You sat up with a gasp, finding yourself sitting on soaked sheets. A sharp pain wracked your body, causing you to groan.

“My love are you okay?” Brennan was also awake, Marbh had probably woken him up.

“I think.. I think my water broke..” you spoke through deep breaths, “Fuck it hurts..” you winced.

“Oh gods.. your in labour!” Brennan gasped before jumping out of bed, and dressing himself half hazardly, “I’ll go get a healer. I’ll be right back.” He swiftly kissed your forehead.

“I’m having it here?!” You looked at him horrified.

He gently cupped your face, “I don’t care if you ruin this mattress my love, we can get a new one. What matters most is that you are comfortable. Now sit tight and time your contractions okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.. come back quickly please..”

Brennan gave you a reassuring smile, “I will.” He squeezed you hand before leaving your room.

As he promised Brennan came back quickly, a healer and two midwives following behind.

Your labours were long and painful, stretching from the early morning to the late afternoon. Brennan was by your side the entire time, making sure you were comfortable and reassuring you that you were doing great.

He didn’t complain once when you were gripping the life out of his hand as you pushed.

After many long labour filled hours, your baby finally entered the world.

“Congratulations, she’s a girl!” The midwife announced as she handed you your crying daughter.

“Amari has blessed us..” Brennan said in awe, eyes watering at the sight.

You took her into your arms, pressing her close to your chest, “She’s beautiful..” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks.

Slowly your daughter began settling down, her cries eventually stopping as she began happily suckling away her hunger.

Brennan admired the both of you, the two most precious people in his life, “She has your hair.” He remarked.

You smiled at him tiredly, “And she has your eyes..”

A comfortable silence stretched between the two of you as your admired your daughter.

Brennan eventually broke the silence, “Do you want me to mend you down there now that she’s settled down?” He asked softly.

You nodded vigorously, “Yes please..”

He chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your head before going to the end of the bed.

“What do you think we should name her?” Brennan asked as he began mending the tare you had gotten.

You pondered for a moment, “I was thinking.. we could use your sister’s names, but mixed together.” You suggested.

Brennan looked up from his mending, eyes full of surprise, “Really..?”

You nodded, “It’s been an idea I’ve bounced around in my mind for a bit and I ended up really liking one name in particular.” You explained.

“The name being?” He asked eagerly, as he finished his mending.

“Vira. If she’d been a boy it would have been Milo.” You admitted sheepishly.

He returned to your side “I love it.. little Vira Sorrengail.” He whispered softly.

“Bren..” you turned to him, “I think.. I think we got this..” you stared into his eyes.

He gently stroked Vira’s wispy hair, “I think we do too..” he agreed.

No amount of books could have prepared the both of you for how parenthood truly was.

Vira was both a dream and a nightmare. It kept you both spinning, never having the chance to get to comfortable.

One week she could be sleeping through the night, only crying if she absolutely needed to, and then the next she would scream and cry non stop, leaving you and Brennan with not even a second of sleep.

But every sleepless night, every gross diaper change, every throw up was worth it when she’d smile and babble happily.

It had truly been a long, hard year but finally things were starting to fall into place when your precious angel turned one.

You had been enjoying a peaceful evening together when suddenly and without warning, Xaden Riorson and a few other riders burst into the house. In Xaden’s arm laid a limp Violet.

While Brennan rushed to go help Xaden and his sister, you made sure the others were okay.

From what they had told you, you had gathered that they had been sent into a trap during war games. They ended up fighting the venin in Resson and sadly, two of their riders hadn’t made it.

You patched everyone up as best as you could and made sure they had a place to rest before returning to your own bedroom to put Vira to bed.

Late into the night Brennan finally entered your shared room, looking completely drained.

“How is she..?” You asked softly, slowly rising from your shared bed.

Brennan sighed, “She’s mended, asleep, but okay.. she’s okay..” he pulled you into a hug. “I’m more worried about Riorson, he’s refusing to leave her side.”

You rubbed comforting circles on his back, “He cares for her a lot.. not just because of the mating bond.” You snorted, “All the dragons are gossiping, and Elspeth is telling me everything.”

That pulled a small chuckle out of Brennan, “I just hope she won’t hate me once she wakes up..” he sighed.

You pulled away from the embrace to cup his face, “Bren.. it might take her a bit.. of course, but I think.. I think she’ll understand.” You reassured him.

Brennan leaned into your touch, “I really hope so.” He muttered.

Unfortunately Brennan had spent very little time with Violet once she had woken up. The one moment he had with her, he had been swiftly whisked away almost immediately to a meeting with the Assembly.

It was only when the riders were about to return to Basigath when Brennan pulled Violet aside to really talk.

“Before you leave, there’s two people I want you to meet.” He said as he led her to the gardens of Riorson house.

Violet eyed him suspiciously, “Alright then lay it on me Brennan.” She sighed, ready to learn even more stuff that had been kept from her.

He chuckled, “Violet, this is my wife, Y/n and our daughter Vira.”

Violet stood in stunned silence as she watched an unfamiliar woman and child turn to her.

“Hello, Violet.” You smiled warmly from the tree you were sitting under, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Vira babbled happily, clapping her hands as she saw Brennan.

“How.. how did this even happen..” Violet looked to Brennan.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Well, we were already dating back at Basigath, you know.. because of mated dragon stuff.” he nudged her playfully, “Then we died together and had a little falling out but we came back together in the end and we got married.” Brennan explained.

Violet nodded slowly, “and the baby?” She asked.

Brennan sighed, “Vira happened a year or two ago.. She was an accident really. We wanted to wait until the venin were gone but the gods had other plans.”

You snorted at that, “I’d say never rely on just the tonic but I just think Amari decided to bless us after we married in her temple.” You smiled at Brennan affectionately.

Vira clumsily stood up and waddled with all her might towards Violet and Brennan. She took a tumble before reaching Brennan but picked herself back up and trecked on. Once she reached him, Brennan picked her up and held her in his arms, assessing her for any scrapes he needed to mend.

Violet stayed silent for a long moment, watching the tender moment between her brother and her niece.

Eventually she spoke up, “Is she.. is she named after me and Mira..?” She asked hesitantly.

Brennan smiled at her, “She is. Y/n was the one who came up with the name.”

You smiled sheepishly, “Pregnancy made me sentimental and I wanted to honour the family we left behind.”

“Thank you..” Violet began to tear up, “Thank you for thinking of me..”

“Of course, it was the least we could do after leaving everything behind..” Brennan wrapped an arm around her.

You couldn’t help but sigh fondly at the sight. Despite being dead for six years, you certainly had lived life to the fullest, and you couldn’t wait to continue.

[sturniolo04]

Can u do a fic where on the nc show instead of nick going on a date with tara he goes on a date with reader. And reader is dating chris and they still kiss at the end

A/n:  ofc! I absolutely love these requests I have coming in, you guys are amazing!! I made it into a series of moments! I hope you love it! And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

dividers: @issysh3ll

You knew as soon as Nick had asked you to help him film a surprise for their upcoming tour that it was going to be the best one ever. Chris and Matt didn't see it coming to say the least.

Nick wanted to go on a date with a female for one of his surprises on this tour which that in itself was going to be a surprise since he was the gay one out of the group. The twist was he didn't want to go on his 'first date with a female' with any girl so he chose you. Chris' girlfriend

You werent apart of the tour shows at every stop but nick flew you out to north Carolina for that tour stop because he knew that was when they were going to announce the surprise he filmed and wanted you to see your boyfriends live reaction in real time.

"okay surprise time"

matt exclaims into the microphone as the crowd cheers

"im nervous"

chris chuckles out as he takes as seat on the couch with nick. The screen reveals who's surprise is being reveal tonight pulling up a side by side video display of you and nick causing both chris and matt's mouths to drop.

"no fucking way"

chris chuckles out in complete disbelief as the crowd continues to scream in shock and excitement.

"what did you two do"

matt causally asks.

"okay before I bring her out because she is backstage what do you think the surprise is"

nick asks his brothers after pulling out a rose from the hint box on the stage.

"no way she's here oh my god"

chris exclaims covering his mouth because that too was also a surprise considering he thought he wasn't going to see you for couple of months until he got done with this tour.

" dude i have no clue "

matt honestly states as nick chuckles begining to ask the crowd the same question them not making a guess in the ball park.

"okay then well lets bring her out so we can show you what it is we did"

nick exclaims as matt and chris stand up from the couch as you walk out onto the stage giving both matt and chris a hug.

"hiii"

you squeal dragging out the 'i' waving to the crowd as the cheer in response. You and nick sit down on the couch as the screen starts to play the prerecorded surprise.

"okay i'm extremely nervous i am about to do something that i never thought I would do but for the sake of the tour I am going to go on a date with a woman"

nick states in the video matt and chris' gasping into the mic at the very statement.

"so what better girl to go on my 'first date' with than Sophia who also happens to be my brother's girlfriend"

nick continues in the video as he covers his mouth as you two look over at chris' reaction.

"no fucking way my girlfriend nick"

chris chuckles out laughing at the thought that this was an actual thing he and you decided to do.

"so i go her some flowers because that's what every good boyfriend should do I think I know chris does this all the time so it might be the right move"

nick shrugs in the video.

"oh my gosh aww flowers thank you nick"

you squeal out in the video giving nick a side hug him placing his head on top of yours considering your four foot figure.

"your welcome Soph i had to start out strong"

nick laughs as you take both of your hands to grab the flower vase from his hand setting it on your island counter in your kitchen.

"my flowers that chris' had gotten me from valentines day were old so I had to throw them away so perfect timing; sorry chris"

you giggle in the video as chris chuckles.

"okay so lets go get dinner maybe and then frozen yogurt does that sound good"

nick states as you nod your head towards the plan. Throughout the whole video Chris was surprisingly taking it pretty well that nick had decided to go on his date with a woman with his grilfriend.

"okay guys well that was my date with Soph I hope you enjoyed and hopefully chris wont be mad at us"

nick chuckles as you giggle along with him as he says 'bye' quickly placing a kiss to your lips.

"oh my god oh my god oh my god"

matt exclaims.

"what the fuck Nick Soph no way"

chris screams after seeing you two kiss at the end of the video.

"so what did you think"

you ask the pair but really mainly chris.

"i-im just shocked i mean wow nick! chris how do you feel I mean nick kissed your girlfriend dude"

matt exclaims chuckling.

"weirdly enough im fine with it probably because i know its not going to happen again like ever"

chris chuckles out

"damn right"

you exclaims giggling as you quickly stand up running over to him to lean down and place a kiss to his lips as the crowd cheers.

Tagslist🗂️

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @ksturnz @chaoswithus @emely9274 @ivysturnss @sturniolo-szn2 @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13 @chrepsi @lyingonchris

@tezzzzzzzz @babytomatoes21 @zenithsturniolo

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

*** 

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?” 

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago. 

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.” 

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?” 

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?” 

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?” 

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

[littlejuicebox]

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

[morgana-larkin]

Hiii!! I have a Melissa x reader request because I just lived for the newest episodes. (We shall ignore the firefighter’s existence for the sake of my idea.)

It’s set when Melissa is just focused on hosting the Schemmenti Christmas Eve dinner and reader is just trying to get her to relax like while she’s cooking, she’ll hug her from behind or give her little pep talks. But Melissa’s cooking isn’t the only thing she’s worried about. All this time her family has been asking of when she’s finally gonna tie someone down and Melissa always dismisses them. But this dinner, she hinted at finally finding someone, never disclosing the gender. She hasn’t told her family about r for obvious reasons but Melissa thought it was time r finally met them. Once everyone arrives, Melissa would finally introduce r as her girlfriend. But Melissa panics after one of her family members makes a homophobic comment towards Jacob and says that r is simply a friend who had nowhere to go for Christmas Eve. After having a private talk with Melissa, r understands her situation and is fine with holding off on telling her family. During the dinner, everyone stills hounds Melissa about when she’s gonna find a husband. Seeing r hurt by these comments, Melissa finally tells them that she has found someone and reaches for r. Obviously, everyone’s shocked (aside from Jacob, Caleb, and Barbra) but they all agreed to decide to put their differences aside as they loved Melissa more than their homophobia and due to the fact that she was able to cook good food without having a man. I really can’t think of an ending, but I hope you still consider my request :)

Hi Anon and thank you for the request! I wasn’t going to do Melissa prompts until the new year but this was a Christmas one so why not? I would have had this out a couple days ago but I had 3 Christmas parties to attend (big families). Anyway I am working on my last 2 Chessy prompts and should be out soon! I’m all for ignoring the firefighters existence so I was more than happy to write this. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: Thank you for all the love and support you’ve given me for all my crazy fics! Consider this a late Christmas gift from me or a gift for whatever holiday you celebrate and a have a happy New Year! 🥳

Her Friend Named Y/n

Warnings: Melissa’s family being stronzos, slight homophobia and racism

Words: 3k

“Melissa, relax. You’ve been making this food for the past 2 weeks and they’re gonna love it.” You tell her and then she gets you to taste test something else. “Amazing like always. Everything you get me to taste test is to die for.” You tell her and she smiles and then goes back to cooking.” You go up to her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist. You feel her lean into your touch for a second then she goes back to cooking.

“Y/n, unless you want to get burnt by the stove then I suggest you move your hands.” She says to you and you pull away from her but stay close by.

“Melissa, you need to relax, your family is gonna love it.” You tell her and she glances at you.

“You know my cooking is not the only thing I’m worried about Y/n.” She tells you and you sigh.

“I know but I’ll turn on my charm and I’ll get them to love me before telling them we’re together.” You say and she rolls her eyes.

“What charm?” She teases with a smile.

“The one that I got you with.” You counter quickly and she snorts.

“If I recall, you were clumsy around me, both physically and verbally.” She tells you and you run your fingers through her hair.

“Because how could someone act normal around you? You’re smoking hot and incredibly smart.” You say and she gives you a kiss.

“I really hope they love you, because I do.” She smiles at you before going back to cooking. You then both hear the doorbell ring and then Melissa goes to go get it and you follow after her.

“Jeez, are we early? Why aren’t you dressed yet?” Kriste Marie tells her and you see Melissa’s unimpressed face.

“It’s nice to see you too, sis.” Melissa tells her and then pats her partner’s back. “Dom.” She adds and then closes the door.

You go back into the kitchen with her and you see her continuing to cook.

“Are you going to be ok in here?” You ask her and she nods.

“Ya I’ll be fine, just gotta finish the cooking.” She tells you and then you hear the doorbell ring and Jacob goes to open it.

“Alright, I’ll go introduce myself to everyone.” You tell her and she nods.

“Go charm my family then.” She says and you give her another kiss before going to the living room. From the pictures she showed you, you instantly recognise her brother Seamus and her mom Teresa.

“Hello.” Jacob tells them and then they look around before their eyes land on you and Caleb.

“Who are you two?” Seamus asks.

“I’m Y/n, a friend of Melissa’s.” You say and hold out a hand to shake.

“I’m Caleb, Jacob’s brother, Melissa invited me. Pleasure to meet you both.” He says and then shakes their hands.

“I’m Seamus, Melissa’s youngest brother.” He says and shakes both of your hands.

“I’m Teresa, Melissa’s mother.” She says and doesn’t shake either of your hands. You and Caleb both put your hands down quickly after realizing and then don’t know what to do.

“May I take your coats?” Jacob offers and they give him their coats and then he runs upstairs.

“Well hello honey.” Teresa says and you turn around to see Melissa.

“Hi Ma.” Melissa says and then hugs her. “Y/n, do you mind coming into the kitchen with me please?” She asks you and you nod before following her.

“Melissa what’s wrong?” You ask her once you reach the kitchen.

“That’s my mom out there.” She says and you nod. “If she doesn’t like you then that’s not good for us. You know I love my family but they have cut people off if they don’t like their partner.” She tells you.

“Oh, so if your mom doesn’t like me then we can’t be together.” You say and she looks at you.

“If she doesn’t like you then I don’t know who to choose. Also no one in my family is gay or bisexual, at least that I know of.” She tells you and then she starts stressing out.

“Ok, Melissa, that’s why we agreed that we’ll see what your family thinks about me before we tell them. Totally neutral opinion about me, no bias or anything.” You tell her and she nods.

“I know, I know.” She says and then the doorbell rings and you hear more people coming in. “Can you just stay with me in here for a few minutes and taste test more food?” She asks and you nod with a smile.

10 minutes later and you walk out to see about 10 people here and a couple kids run into the basement.

“There’s a lot of kids in that basement.” Jacob tells you when he sees you walk out.

“Well she already told us that most people have like 3 kids.” You tell him. “Who are all these people, do you know?” You ask him and he looks at everyone.

“That’s Uncle Archie, then that’s Kristen Marie, Dom Marie, Mark, Marie, Matthew. Then Maria Christina, Craig, girl Toni. Boy Tony is still in prison but apparently there’s a card going around for him to sign. Then there’s Larry, Anthony, Seamus. I think about 30 kids in the basement and then of course you’ve already met Mrs Teresa Schemmenti.” He tells you and you widen your eyes a bit at the amount of names he remembers. Everyone looks at you as they were all being introduced to you and you gulp.

“Hi everyone, I’m Y/n, Melissa’s friend.” You tell them all and they all nod then go back to their conversations. Just then Melissa comes out with some more food.

“Honey, you’re trying something different with your makeup? You’re so brave.” Teresa tells her and Melissa sighs.

“Thanks Ma.” Melissa tells her.

“I love visiting you Mel.” Anthony tells her. “Something about being around you really makes me feel better about myself.” He says and Melissa rolls her eyes.

“And that’s why I love having you, Anthony.” Melissa tells him and you smile.

“Marie, did this place get smaller?” Uncle Archie asks Melissa.

“I’m Melissa, and no, my place did not magically shrink.”

“Ah, I guess you just got bigger then.” He says and then laughs.

“Archie, what would she need a bigger place for?” Teresa says. “She lives with a roommate, unmarried and alone.” She adds and Melissa nods her head, knowing the subject will come up.

“Yeah?”

“You’re so insensitive.” Teresa tells him.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Uncle Archie asks and then the doorbell rings. Melissa goes to get in and then you see Barb and Gerald there and Melissa says hi to them. You walk up to them and give them a hug hello. “Ah. Nobody told me this would be one of those progressive parties.” Archie says and you both turn to look at him.

“Do you want to get strangled?” Melissa says and then Jacob cuts in and Archie goes to take a nap upstairs. Jacob then introduces everyone to Barb and Gerald.

“You forgot Nancy and Dorothy.” Archie says from the stairs.

“There’s nobody here named Nancy or Dorothy.” Jacob tells him.

“I was talking about you, Y/n and your boyfriend.” He says and laughs.

“Ok normally I respect my elders but this guy.” Caleb says and you and Melissa hold him back.

“Archie, Y/n is not gay. Just one of Melissa’s friends that had nowhere to go for Christmas Eve.” Teresa says and you look at Melissa. “Melissa, you seem to have forgotten to tell us that you invited a gay man and black people here.” Teresa tells her daughter and Melissa sighs.

“I didn’t think it would matter as it’s my place and they’re my friends.” Melissa tells her mom.

“Y/n, you seem so young and beautiful. Why haven’t you been able to land a man and be with his family for Christmas?” Teresa asks you and Melissa groans. “Melissa, can I not ask your friend a question? Also didn’t you say that you might have found a man?” Teresa asks her.

“I need to talk to Y/n for a moment alone.” Melissa says and then storms into the kitchen. You follow her and then she turns around to look at you. “I think we should hold off on introducing you as my girlfriend.” She tells you and you look at her confused.

“Why? I thought you were excited to finally introduce me to them?” You ask her and holds your hand.

“I am, I was. But I don’t know how they’ll react to me having a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend. You heard my Ma in there. She thinks you should be with a man instead because you’re young and beautiful and didn’t defend Jacob when her brother called him Nancy.” She tells you and you can tell she’s scared.

“Alright, it’s ok Melissa. We can hold off until you’re absolutely ready.” You tell her and she looks at you and smiles.

“Thank you.” She says and gives you a hug.

“Is everything ready? Gerald and a few other people are wondering about that.” Barb says as she enters the kitchen.

“Ah, ya, just a couple more minutes.” Melissa tells her and looks over at the food on the stove.

“Is everything alright?” She says as she senses some tension.

“We’re holding off on introducing me as her girlfriend.” You tell Barb and she looks at you and Melissa.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think my family is gonna respond well to me having a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend.” Melissa tells her and Barb nods. “Alright food is ready. Do you guys mind helping me bring it out?” Melissa asks and you both nod and help her.

All 3 of you bring food out and everyone gathers around the table and takes a seat. They all begin to start putting food on their plates and you take a seat beside Melissa and Barb sits down on the other side of you for support.

“So Melissa, where is this man you were hinting at?” Teresa asks her and Melissa sighs.

“We haven’t been going out long enough to introduce them to my family.” Is all Melissa says to try and close the topic.

“What happened with that Gary?” Kristen Marie asks.

“He proposed and I said no, then we broke up.” Melissa tells her.

“Why’d you say no? You need a man to be with.” Teresa says and you look down at your plate. You then feel Barb grab your hand and you look at her and give her a grateful smile. Melissa sees the interaction between you and Barb and she sighs.

“I just didn’t want to marry him, can that be the end of the discussion?” Melissa tries to shut it down again.

“I’m just saying that you can’t be picky and we all liked him.” Teresa says and Melissa sees that you're hurt by this discussion and it breaks her heart seeing you hurt.

“What if she lied about finding a man?” Kristen Marie says to her mom and Teresa looks at Melissa.

“Did you or did you not find someone?” Teresa asks.

“I did find someone, I’m not lying about that.” Melissa says, annoyed at her family.

“I can’t believe you let Joe go. He was good, he was good for you and he was a firefighter.” Teresa says.

“I almost forgot about Joe.” Seamus says and Melissa puts her head in her hands. “Why did you divorce again?”

“Because we fell out of love.” She simply says. “But we’re still friends.” She adds and they all give her a confused look.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you need a man in your life, and I want to meet the man that you found.” Teresa tells her daughter and Melissa looks at her mom.

“What if it’s not a man?” She suddenly says and you look at her.

“Well what else would it be?” Teresa says and Kristen Marie looks between you and Melissa. She sees the both of you keep looking at each other as well as you being hurt by the conversation.

“What if it’s a woman?” Melissa asks her mom and everyone looks at each other in disbelief before looking at Teresa or Melissa.

“You can’t be with a woman.” Teresa simply says.

“Why not?” Melissa challenges her mom.

“Because you’re not interested in other women, you’ve only been with men and everyone in this family is straight.” Teresa explains. “Now stop saying foolish things honey.” She adds and Melissa sees your eyes are starting to water.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” You tell everyone and stand up.

“Wait Y/n.” Melissa says and stands up as you look at her. “I did find someone, and she’s right here.” She tells everyone and then wraps an arm around your waist. “Y/n is my girlfriend.” She confirms and everyone gasps and looks shocked except for her friends. “We’ve been together for 9 months and we love each other.” She adds and you look at everyone’s reactions.

“You can’t be serious?” Teresa says and you look down and Melissa sees your reaction.

“I think she is serious.” Kristen Marie says. “They’ve been glancing at each other the entire time and Y/n has been looking hurt about this conversation.” Kristen Marie adds.

“Thanks sis.” Melissa says and rolls her eyes. “It’s true, I’m not going to pretend that I’m with a man when it’s hurting my girlfriend just to please my family.” Melissa says proudly and you look at her. She smiles at you and gives you a quick kiss and then looks at her mom. “So all of youse can either accept it or leave.” She adds and you lay your head on her shoulder and wrap your arms around her.

“You know this food is really good.” Seamus says and everyone looks at him.

“I agree, I’m surprised she pulled this off. I guess I didn’t need to defrost the frutti di mare I had at home as a backup dinner for me and Dom.” Kristen Marie says.

“You know if this were a little less brochante.” Teresa starts but Anthony interrupts her.

“Ya, a little mushy.” He says but Teresa continues.

“Yeah, this could have almost passed the nonna Zoltini.” She says and you see Melissa practically beaming at the compliment. “No single woman can make food this good so I guess being with Y/n helped her make good food.” Teresa tells everyone and everyone thinks about it.

“I like Y/n, I met her 2 years ago at Pecsa.” Kristen Marie says and nods. “Melissa wasn’t keeping an eye on her though as I talked with her for a good hour.” She adds and Melissa looks at her sister then at you.

“You did what?” Melissa asks, a little angry.

“We just started being friends, plus I had no idea who she was.” You tell Melissa and you feel her hold tighten on you.

“I think we need an updated photo of me punching you in the face.” Melissa says.

“I’m saying I like your girlfriend.” Kristen Marie says. “I don’t know what she sees in you though.” She adds and you hold Melissa back as she wanted to start some violence with her sister.

“I like your girlfriend as well, a little shy. But I do love you Melissa, and if Y/n makes you happy and gets you to make good food, then I’ll accept the relationship.” Teresa tells her and Melissa smiles and nods at her mom.

“Thank you, I’ll go get the dessert.” She says and brings you into the kitchen with her. “Oh my god, that went really well. Not only did they love my cooking, they’re accepting of us being together.” She says and kisses you. Barb comes into the kitchen and you both pull apart.

“Sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to see how you’re both feeling.” Barb says with a smile.

“I’m very happy, my family is accepting my cooking and my girlfriend.” Melissa says with a huge smile.

“I still can’t believe you went right out and said that we’re together.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“All their comments were hurting you, I couldn’t just do nothing.” She says and you plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, I know I picked the right woman to love.” You say and she smiles before she gets the cannoli ready.

“Alright you stronzos, here’s the famous Schemmenti cannoli.” Melissa says as she comes out with the cannolis and everyone takes one.

Everyone eats all the cannolis and then digest for a bit before they start heading off.

“You got yourself a looker.” Kristen Marie tells her sister. “I don’t know how you managed to score that but apparently you did.” She says and Melissa smiles and wraps an arm around you.

“Yep, I got the girl of my dreams.” Melissa says and you smile at her.

“Goodbye.” Kristen Marie says and then leaves.

Melissa closes the door after Barb and Gerald leave and then lets out a breath. She takes a few steps and gives you a long hug and you feel all the tension she’s been holding for 2 weeks just leave her.

“I don’t know about you but I think that was a huge success.” Caleb says and Melissa pulls back and nods.

“One of the best nights ever.” She says while looking at you and you smile. “I think we should turn in a little early, what do you think?” She asks you and you nod while you both go upstairs.

“I know that look and tone. I hope you brought earphones Caleb, cause you’re gonna need them with our thin walls.” Jacob tells his brother and then Caleb looks at you both going up the stairs.

“Yep, neither of us are quiet.” You say and Melissa giggles.

“Come on you goof.” She says and then pulls you to the bedroom.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[scekrex]

I would like to request a Thanos fic where a male reader is really religious, like he been taught all his life how homosexuality is wrong and how people that get with people of the same gender are destined to a life of suffer But, as soon as he takes one of Thanos pills, he gets all over Thanos saying stuff how much he makes him tempted to sin but also at the same time complimenting here

(Sorry if this is not that clear, this is the first time I am requesting a fic like ever🫣)

Since you didn't specify whether you want this to end in fluff or smut, I left the ending open and kept it rather fluffy. I'm not religious so if any of the descriptions seem blasphemous, please know that it is by no means my intention.

Feel like the angel who fell

pairing: Thanos x male!reader

warnings: language, drug use, implied toxic religious behavior

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Being raised in a town so small that they all believed in the same good, all-seeing being had never truly been a bad thing for you, though that might have been because you had never known anything else. You weren’t online that much, never truly got past the pages on social media that preached the same things your parents had taught you since birth. You can’t miss things you never had, after all. So no, it wasn’t annoying to go to church every sunday with your family, it wasn’t hell-ish to not be allowed certain things that were painted out to be sinful either. You yourself believed in God after all, you wanted to be good and pure in his eyes, followed certain rules or guidelines because you wanted to. You were quite okay, lived a good life, had friends that loved you, had a family that loved you.

And a single person changed all of that by simply moving to the same town you had lived in your entire life. It wasn’t because he was the new one, because suddenly he was the topic of every conversation. It was because he didn’t believe and as someone who had never met a person who didn’t believe, as someone raised under an umbrella thinking that most likely every person roaming earth’s surface was a believer, you had no idea on how to handle this type of situation at all. So when the new guy in town had first approached you, it had been a nice and relaxed conversation until he made it quite clear that he wasn’t interested in religion in the slightest. Su-bong was a blunt and crude young man who spoke things how he saw them, he didn’t bother with false kindness for the sake of keeping up the peace of the town, he didn’t bother to lie or pretend so he’d remain ‘the nice young man from next door’. He was loud, not only with his voice but also with pretty much everything else.

The tattoos he didn’t even try to hide, tattoos that he seemed proud of on top of it. Hair dyed in a color as unnatural as purple, the helix piercing he showed off with pride - like he was proud to stand out in a town that seemed to copy and paste people. A rebel that appeared to be following his own rules, the one that blasted music from his apartment so loud that the entire town was able to listen to the lyrics about ‘smashing pussy’ and ‘popping pills’ or ‘snorting lines until noses bled’. Lyrics that went against everything you had been taught, lyrics so impure and sinful that they made your skin scrawl whenever you dared to even think about them. So a natural reaction would have been to keep your distance towards the strange, misbehaving man, right? To pretend he didn’t exist and move on with the peaceful life you had been living and ignore the almost blasphemous behavior of Su-bong.

But you didn’t because for once there was something other than a black and white way of thinking, of seeing. It wasn’t good and bad, it was ‘do what you want as long as you don’t hurt others’. Different from the way everyone in this small town was behaving, different from all the rules and guidelines you had followed your entire life, different from everything your parents had taught you. He was interesting. Not just because of his appearance that stuck out, that forced people to turn and stare because of how bold it was, but also because of the way he viewed the world and the people living in it. Su-bong was not the type of guy to say that believers were bad, even though most believers said that those who chose not to follow the guidance of God were lost and troubled souls. Doomed souls, even. He just didn’t care. And that was quite fascinating to you.

So while the town decided to ignore Su-bong for his stay - they all seemed quite convinced the lost soul would either find his way in God’s arms sooner or later and change to fit in - you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because how could one ignore a man as unique and confident as Su-bong? And the people living in the town seemed quite happy with the fact that you and Su-bong were befriending each other as well, clearly thinking you’d help the purple-haired man to find the right path. In all honesty though? You didn’t bother to force your own beliefs onto him. Su-bon respected you for believing in a God that he himself clearly didn’t. So why couldn’t you just simply do the same and respect his choice in not seeking out the good, all-seeing being? So religion was a topic that rarely came up. Sometimes it did when it became clear that the purple-haired one was doing drugs. Drugs that were stronger than weed, more dangerous too. But you tried to keep it down because by the end of the day the both of you were adults after all. You made your own choices and so did Su-bong.

Life became peaceful again, less tense. It seemed like everyone was getting used to Su-bong’s presence - and while you weren’t quite sure if that was a good thing yet, it did mean that you spent more and more time at the purple-haired man’s apartment.

How that pretty baby blue pill had made it past your lips was hard to recall, especially with the strong effect that it carried and now unleashed upon your body. But in that moment, during that high, while that warm feeling of bliss and calm filled your every cell, it felt like maybe for a couple of minutes God wasn’t watching you. Like the Father Himself had allowed you to feel something so out of the ordinary just for the sake of experiencing it, willing to close his mind in the moment you had agreed to that pill.

And this was how you found yourself laying on Su-bong’s chest, pawing at the man’s pecs like a cat trying to get comfortable. “It ain’t fair,” you whined into the chest of the man who was looking at you with a mix between amusement and a certain softness that only seemed to appear whenever the two of you were alone. A certain softness no one else seemed to be allowed to witness appearing on the purple-haired man’s face. “Like you’re so handsome and I’m not allowed to touch. I don’t want to sin, Su-bong. You have to believe me, I don’t want to, but you make it so hard not to.” It was useless to tell the purple-haired man that you didn’t want to sin, that you truly wanted to remain pure and good in the eyes of God because Su-bong couldn’t care less about whether you wanted to sin or not. In his world, there was no such thing as ‘sinning’ in the eyes of divine judgement after all, he was the type of man that simply did what felt right and good in the moment. And yet you found it quite important to mention that you weren’t willingly thinking those thoughts that were impure in the eyes of others.

“Like, you’re just so handsome, you feel warm and cozy and I really, really feel like I could kiss you, but-” you were interrupted by a tattooed finger that brushed against your lips in an attempt to silence you. Su-bong’s voice was low, it sounded a little lazy, a little high on the same drugs that you had also agreed to indulge in. But it was nonetheless a comforting sound - that fact alone was wrong, in the back of your mind you were aware of such. But the bliss and the warmth that was partly caused by drugs and partly caused by two human bodies simply being close to each other drowned that fact out. “If ya think it’d feel good, it ain’t a sin, pretty boy. Ya think God wants to deny you pleasure? Nah, my boy, sky daddy wants ya to indulge. So forget about that fucked up sin mentality shit for a sec and just, y’know, do what yo want.”

You knew that the next action would lead to prayers spoken on repeat with no end, that you’d beg for forgiveness over and over again until it would eventually be forgiven that you indulged in something your parents had always claimed sinful, but in that very moment, in that rush of bliss and that moment of simply laying on Su-bong’s chest, it felt like maybe the man with the attitude problem and the strange yet quite unique way of viewing the world could be right. That kissing another man wasn’t as unholy as people made it out to be. Because truly, why was it so different from kissing a woman? The action itself was the same after all. A kiss was a sign for love and it was always preached to love instead of hate. So why could a man not simply love another man in the same way that other men loved women?

Those thoughts, those rambles that only were happening in your head were becoming louder and louder and in the end the fact that you leaned in and pressed your lips to Su-bong’s was an attempt to drown them out - because why were you suddenly starting to question those guidelines that had never before seemed so confusing and stupid? They had always made sense before that very night. They had never been questionable before. But then lips met lips, warm and soft - a little dry, surely, but that didn’t bother you, not when Su-bong felt so very good, so very right under your own lips. Not when the way his hand tangled in your hair made you sign into the kiss. It was something you’d eventually come to regret once the drug would wear off and sobretry would kick in fully, reminding you that you actively disobeyed simple guidelines. Simple rules. But then and there, it felt right and it felt good and for a split second you were able to understand why Su-bong lived the way he did without obeying a divine being higher ranked than any human. Because it did make life more enjoyable.

[regency-monster-love]

Grumpy orc and sunshine human, part 12

Male orc x female human | Regency era | SFW but references to sex, racism, and injury

Master list for this fic

Chapter starts immediately after part 11. Garek and Esther just fucked in an empty countryside chapel.

~ 😈🎩 ~

While cleaning themselves up, Garek remarked that it was lucky that the wet spots of his seed on their clothing would simply blend in with all the other water spots from the rain, and Esther started to feel that little trickle of unease that came now every time he talked about hiding their relationship.

Garek peeked out the door. “It's stopped raining. Good. We have to get you to my house for a bath quickly.”

Nausea started to swirl in her belly. “To get your scent off me?”

“Yes.”

“And you'll do the same to get my scent off you?”

“Of course.”

“Garek, are you ashamed of me?”

The orc jerked as if struck. “What? Why would you ask that?”

“You don’t want anyone to know about us. Not just the sex—you never spend time with me openly; never once have you called on me at my house.”

His face contorted in a mix of confusion, anger, and disgust. “That’s what you wanted, so your suitor wouldn’t find out.” He spoke the word “suitor” like it tasted bad.

“What on earth are you talking about? What suitor?”

“You have more than one now?” he snarled.

“My God, what kind of person do you think I am? There's no one but you!”

“Don't lie to me. The first time I walked you home, you said some other man was courting you and you wanted that.”

Esther stared at him silently for several breaths as she worked through what Garek was referring to, and as she realized what he meant, was nearly dumbstruck by the enormity of Garek’s misunderstanding and twisting of her words.

“First of all,” she said with calm precision, “what I said was that I thought one person might be courting me, and that I wasn't opposed to it. Secondly, I was talking about you, Garek.”

Now it was Garek’s turn to stare while he tried to make sense of things. “The suitor was—me? From the start?”

“Yes, you simpleton.”

“Then why didn't you say so outright?”

“I was smiling right at your face when I said what I did, and I let you ravish me immediately afterwards—I was very clear it was you.”

He shook his head. “No, I'm certain you didn't say ‘you,’ you said ‘he,’ like it was some other person.”

“I was being playful with my manner of speaking! It was obvious what I meant!”

“Obviously it wasn't!”

Esther released her breath in a frustrated sort of huff. “Sakes alive—did you ever see me close with any other males, Garek? Smell any other males on me?”

“No,” he growled.

“Shouldn’t that have made it obvious then?” Esther huffed out with an expectant raise of her eyebrows.

He stared back. His stomach dropped. Ohhh fuck. Fuck. Of course there was no one else. He had been such a colossal fool. He dropped his head into his hands.

“You really thought I would just lead some other suitor along while I was secretly carrying on an intimate relationship with you?” Esther asked after a moment, the hurt thick in her voice. How could he think so little of her?

Garek’s cheeks burned in shame, but he forced himself to drop his hands and look at her. “I didn’t really let myself think about it at all, not lately.” His love for her had made it too painful to think about, so he simply hadn’t, and in doing so, had missed all the obvious and logical signs of what was truly happening.

The ache in Esther’s throat had spread down into her chest, squeezing around her heart. She thought Garek was better than her former lover Frank, but it seemed like Garek had just been using her for sex after all. He hadn’t cared what it said about Esther’s character or the feelings of this other suitor as long as he was getting to use her body.

“I’m going home,” she told him, and turned toward the chapel door.

“Wait!” He grabbed her hand and stared at her with wild, desperate eyes. “I was a fool, but now I know the truth. Everything can be all right between us now.”

She pulled her hand back from him. “You can’t just say things are all right and make it so! Nothing has changed. Nothing is ever going to change with you.”

She stepped toward the door, and he grabbed for her again—she pushed him off her, just like that first time he’d kissed her, then jabbed a finger at him. “You leave me alone! I’m going!”

He obeyed. No running after her, no calling her back. He just let her go, his chest heaving as he watched her solitary figure walk quickly away from the chapel.

— — —

Four days. Four days since he had seen Esther, heard her laugh, touched her, been inside her. Four days without his mate.

Just a month ago, four days without her would have been nothing. Well, not nothing—it wouldn’t have been pleasant, but it was bearable, and nothing out of the ordinary. He would masturbate to the thought of her and be all right. Now, four days was torture.

He didn’t know if he ought to try to end it. He had made a tremendous mess of everything, and he feared that it was irreparable. Esther would probably turn down any attempt he made to reconcile—nothing is ever going to change with you, that’s what she’d told him. She’d given up on him. People are allowed to change their minds about what they want, that was another thing she’d told him once. Now he knew that she’d wanted him as a suitor from the beginning, but it seemed likely that she’d changed her mind on that now, and no longer wanted him as a suitor or a lover. But this was too horrifying a possibility to confirm. Knowing for certain that they were done would be far worse than the uncertainty he was living under now.

His mother wasn’t helping matters. She kept asking him what was wrong with him and how Miss Dayton was doing and why he was moping at home all the time. And his home smelled like Esther, especially in his bedroom, no matter how much he washed everything. 

He finally had to escape the house, and went for a walk into the village. He hadn’t gone very far when his minotaur friend came running straight down the main street at him. “Garek!” he shouted.

Garek rushed toward him. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Miss Dayton!” the minotaur said, and every fiber in Garek’s body snapped into focus. “Her carriage, there was an accident, I saw them dragging it to the wheelwright’s across from my office—”

“What happened to her? Where is she?” Garek demanded.

“They said the lady inside was hurt, took her to the nearest cottage to await the surgeon—”

“Where!”

“Other side of the village, nearly to the mill—”

Garek took off running, panic making him move faster than perhaps he ever had before. He reached the row of cottages that he thought the minotaur meant and started pounding on every door, frantically asking after the human lady who was injured in a carriage accident. The third one finally told him that she had seen her taken inside the next one over, and Garek rushed to that door to hammer his fist on it. It felt like an eternity before anyone answered, though it was probably less than 10 seconds.

A female dragon opened the door, standing at least a head taller than Garek and filling its entire width with her bulk.

Garek didn’t bother with any greeting. “I need to see Miss Dayton!”

The dragon gave him a disgruntled look. “Who are you?”

“I’m her mate, now let me in,” he growled. It was the first time he had said it out loud, but he hadn’t hesitated—he wasn’t scared of that word anymore, just needed to see Esther without delay.

The dragon gestured to his right tusk. “You’ve no ring, and she’s a ‘miss.’”

“We haven’t had our ceremony yet—get out of the way,” he snarled.

But the dragon didn’t budge; Garek was furious that she was bigger than him. “Well.” She sniffed, looking him up and down. “You’re certainly acting like a mate.” From her tone, it was clear that she did not consider that a good thing. “All right, you can see her, but if she wants you to go, you go.”

She cleared out of the way, and Garek barreled right past her, not needing her to show him the way to Esther’s room—he could smell exactly where she was, and he could smell that she was unwell.

“Wait!” the dragon hissed behind him, right as he reached her door. “You can’t go barging in when she’s resting.”

“I know that,” he hissed back. “I would never hurt Esther.” Not anymore, at least.

He put his hand to the doorknob and very slowly opened it. Esther lay unconscious in a huge dragon-size bed, looking so tiny and frail it made something sharp twist painfully in his chest. Her hair was covered by a large bandage. He crept over to her side. “Esther,” he whispered.

The dragon had come in too. “Don’t touch her head or neck; the surgeon isn’t sure yet if there was any damage to her spine.” More pain stabbed through Garek’s chest at that.

After telling Garek to fetch her when Esther woke, and warning him again not to bother her, the dragon finally left them alone. Garek carefully climbed up on the bed to lay beside Esther, facing her but not touching her, except for stroking his fingers over the top of her hand that rested on the blanket.

He ached with the desire for Esther to be all right, and to be with him. He’d been such a stubborn, cowardly fool to try to deny and fight against their mating bond. If they had been mated and married, he might have been in the carriage with her and could have prevented her from getting hurt so badly, protecting her in the strong cocoon of his arms. That’s what he wanted—to be with her all the time, at her side to protect and please her, no more hiding.

Despite his fretful thoughts, he must have eventually fallen asleep, because the next thing he was aware of was the feel of someone petting his hair. He opened his eyes and saw Esther looking at him with a serious expression as she caressed his head.

“You’re awake!” He sat up abruptly. “I have to tell—um, I don’t know her name, actually, but the surgeon needs to see you!” He jumped out of bed.

“Wait, Garek. What happened?” Esther said in a weak voice.

He leaned over her and reached for her face, but stopped himself before touching her. “You got hurt in an accident, and they carried you here,” he said, as gently as he could, to not scare her, but it still came out rather rough, because having to speak the words “you got hurt” made him angry. “I’ll tell you more soon, but let me fetch the surgeon first.”

It was agony to wait for him, then wait all through his examination of Esther, but when he said that her spine was fine and that her head would probably be healed enough to move her in a couple days, with no lasting damage, Garek’s relief was immense. And then the surgeon and dragon left them alone again.

Esther gestured for Garek to get on the bed with her again, assuring him that the surgeon said she shouldn’t move her head much, but the rest of her was fine. She opened her arms, and Garek laid his head on her chest with a relieved sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Esther told him, petting his hair again.

“You are?”

“I missed you.”

His heart twisted and throbbed. “I’m sorry, Esther. I’ve been stubborn and unkind to you from the start, and it was never because of you, it was always because of me. Me being a coward.” In the interest of not being cowardly, he sat up so he could look into her eyes as he said this. “I’m sorry I insulted humans and made you feel like I was ashamed of you. The truth is…I did feel guilty about getting intimately involved with a human. It had nothing to do with you personally, it’s just…” He huffed out a ragged sigh, wishing he could explain this better.

“Look,” he tried again. “My father wanted to be a writer when he was young, got laughed at by every human publisher he went to, until one day he found his book for sale with some human’s name slapped on it. One of those bastard publishers had stolen his manuscript and published it as his own. Father couldn’t even get the courts to take his case seriously, because they were all run by corrupt humans too. That’s how everything was for monsters back then. That’s why I only print books by monsters—because human presses rarely did it, until recently.”

Esther was looking at him teary-eyed, but she made no attempt to speak, so he just let it all keep pouring out. “My father taught me to hate humans, so I felt like I was betraying him by caring for one, even betraying myself, what I stood for. I think that’s why I stupidly didn’t understand your hint about me being your suitor: the idea of courting a human myself was just so foreign to me at the time, that it had to be someone else you meant.

“But it was never actually about you—I’ve never been ashamed of you. The only one I’m ashamed of is me. You’re perfect. I’m lucky and proud that you’re with me—or, were with me. I don’t care that you’re human, or that my father would be ashamed of me, not anymore. I was such a fool to ever think that any of that mattered. And I’m so sorry for not trusting you to be committed to one male at a time, to think that you might be involved with someone else at the same time as me. I know you’re too good for that. It made no sense.”

Esther finally spoke up. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t know about what happened to your father, and in the chapel, I didn’t exactly let you explain yourself or give you a chance to try to fix things—I just stormed off. And I shouldn’t have said you can never change. That was unfair of me. I should have been more open with you about my own feelings and wants. I was a coward too, because of what happened with Frank.”

Garek shook his head fiercely. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did.”

“No.”

“Are you arguing with me about apologizing?”

He ducked his head to rub at his neck. “Sorry,” he muttered.

She huffed out a weak laugh, then winced. “I don’t think my body approves of that right now.”

“No more talking, just rest,” he declared, and laid his head back on her chest again. She immediately set about stroking his hair again, and warmth spread through him at the affectionate touch of his mate that he had been starved for.

They laid quietly together for some minutes. Then Esther asked, “How’d you convince them to let you see me?”

Garek’s heart started to race, but he wasn’t going to be a coward about this. He sat up again. “I told her that you’re my mate—which is true, Esther.” The rest of the words tumbled out of him in a rush, now that he’d said it. “You’re my mate, and I’m yours. But only if you want to be. You can reject the mating bond, it’s your choice, but, oh, Esther!” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I hope you don’t, because I love you, and I want us to be together always. Mated and married.”

Well, so much for no more talking, just rest.

She stared at him with her mouth opened, before she said, “How dare you”—his heart sunk to his stomach—“say this to me when I can't spring up and kiss you.”

Now he was the one staring at her open-mouthed. “You, you mean…”

“I love you too.”

Excitement was starting to bubble up inside him. “And you’ll marry me?”

“I will, if you’ll give me a kiss right now.”

“I don’t think I ought to, with your head…”

“Kiss me,” she said firmly, and just like every time she gave that order, he obeyed. But he tempered the wild joy rioting inside him to make it a gentle kiss, at least. No more hurting his mate, ever again.

His mate! She was really going to be his mate, completely, no more of this halfway business where only he knew and there was no ceremony. He couldn’t stop grinning. It kept making Esther laugh to see it, which hurt her head, so he finally had to hide his face in the sheets.

The smile finally got wiped off his face when he asked her to tell him what happened in the carriage, because it made him angry to picture his mate getting hurt and being scared, but he had to know. She related how they had been going around a sharp turn when a wheel came off, throwing the whole carriage onto its side, and she flew against the inside wall with quite some force when it hit the ground.

She had to pet his hair again and remind him that the surgeon said she’d be well soon to get him to stop growling in anger.

Once he was calmed down, he couldn’t resist saying, in a soft, teasing rumble, “I told you that your carriage is no good.”

Her eyes crinkled up in amusement. “You did. You were right. Though I think I agreed with you even then, you may remember. You were the one being contrary; I was being agreeable.”

He smiled and lifted her hand to kiss her palm. “Of course.”

“Now I have the opportunity to purchase a better carriage, that meets your approval.”

“Big enough for both of us?”

“Exactly.”

“But I’m not as opposed to being squeezed into a tiny carriage with you anymore.”

~ 😈🎩 ~

End of part 12 | Read next chapter | Master list for this fic

Hooray! I tortured them some more, but they finally got everything in the open for their happily ever after!

One more chapter—spicy of course—and then their story is finished!

Art of them coming soon, too!

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag #my writing or my master list.

Taglist: @apuddleonthelivingroomfloor, @slightly-knot-insane, @99goosebumps, @decaffeinatedtreewitch, @curiousmons, @cinnabbxx, @dreamerl0v3, @iamsamuraisword, @flippinsweettots, @not-nana-ly, @eclaire-and-pocky, @iluvzayne, @blushycadaver, @vurelliex, @graveblanketgreen, @xxfeelmylovexx (comment if you want to be added to the list)

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[vampirepirates]

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀

THE LONG WINTER ( ... ) SANDOR CLEGANE .

Masterlist:

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀𝔖andor Clegane saw clearer then than he ever had - Lyarra Stark, the lone wolf, would never last a day in the Lion's den. To hell with it, he couldn't help but think. He cared not about winter - nor the pack surviving. He cared not for the Starks to begin with. What he did care about, was making sure the all-encompasing light of Lyarra's eyes never went out. Not while he still lived. ⠀⠀⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"

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ORIGINAL CHARACTER - Lyarra Stark. Twin to Lyanna, sister of Eddard, Benjen, and Brandon.

Lyarra Stark of Winterfell would give her life for her family, while Sandor Clegane would do everything in his power to keep her from doing so. ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

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— ⠀⠀INTRODUCING ⠀THE CAST OF ⠀⠀'THE LONG WINTER'

( any other characters not listed simply are casted with their usual faceclaim, or whatever comes to mind! these are just the /main/ characters . )

LYARRA ⠀STARK ⠀— ⠀THE ⠀LONE ⠀WOLF .

Played by Katie Mcgrath ( ... )

" You cannot ask me to stay — not when my wolf lays trapped in the jaws of a Lion .. "

SANDOR ⠀CLEGANE ⠀— ⠀THE HOUND ⠀.

Played by Rory McCann ( ... )

" Praying to your Gods, Little Wolf? Good, you're going to need them .. "

REYNE⠀ 'STARK' ⠀— ⠀THE ⠀LOST ⠀GIRL ⠀.

Played by Alicia Agneson⠀ ( ... )

" I will never allow my fear to overcome my love. Not while I still live .. "

GOGNI ⠀⠀— ⠀⠀THE ⠀⠀FREE ⠀⠀MAN   .

Played by Travis Fimmel  ( ... )

" I never knew a wolf to accept her cage as willingly as you have .. "

PETYR ⠀BAELISH ⠀— ⠀⠀LITTLEFINGER .

Played by Aidan Gillen ( ... )

" Trust no one — and yet make sure that everyone can trust you. Loyalty kills more men than fealty .. "

LYANNA ⠀STARK ⠀— ⠀⠀THE ⠀LOVED   .

Played by Kaya Scodelario ( ... )

" Compassion came easy to her, Lyarra could recall. She had never met someone with more love in her heart, than her sister .. "

JON ⠀SNOW ⠀⠀— ⠀⠀THE ⠀BASTARD  .

Played by Kit Harrington ( ... )

" I have only known one mother, my entire life. And now I am meant to watch in silence, as she leaves .. "

TYRION ⠀LANNISTER ⠀— ⠀THE ⠀IMP   .

Played by Peter Dinklage ( ... )

" In my experience, it is a far easier feat to make a friend than an ally! So, let's drink, shall we? "

—               Hello! My name is Zevran! I'll try to keep this short for the sake of my sanity. This is my first official fanfic, so bear with me as I work through this. This fic randomly came to my mind a few weeks ago, and I have not been able to escape it. Some things to note before I start this; Lyarra is not perfect. There will be times where she makes brass decisions, says rude things, and very clearly sides with the wrong people. One example of this, is the nature of her friendship with Petyr Baelish. Petyr is not a good person, and I will never deny this! But he is someone that Lyarra cares for greatly, so I will portray their relationship the best I can. Also, I have never read the books. I just started the first one, but considering I am now writing this -- that will definitely be a slow process. My timeline may be messy, especially considering I am creating my own events and timelines. So if I mess anything up, feel free to let me know -- but know I may not change everything.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic -- and feel free to leave any kind of comment!

             Lover, Hunter, Friend, and Enemy — You

             Will always be every one of these.    Lover,

             Hunter, Friend, and Enemy .. You        will

             Always         be          every       one   of these .

             — Fleurie,                               Love and War .

[pavosnoctua]

cw: yandere, dark themes, obsessive behaviors, forced marriage, possessive behaviors, controlling behaviors, implied isolation, implied non-con touching, implied forced starvation. afab reader. mdni, minors dni! i do not condone the behaviors in this fic.

my first time writing a yandere fic. please lmk if i am missing a tag or warning!

You don't know why but Diluc one day tells you that he is giving a few more freedoms - slightly begrudgingly but you won't be alone outside. The winery is well staffed, Adelinde will be nearby so be good.

(Maybe Adelinde felt a twinge of sympathy for you, hearing you cry every night when Diluc would get too rough with you. You delude yourself into thinking this)

Be good is what you repeat to yourself as you step outside into the sunlight since he brought you here - it feels like ages ago, unreal to you, with the way the warmth of the sun hits your skin and you have to initially squint at the brightness. The Manor is so dark in comparison - it's windows always covered and the lighting so dim.

Adelinde watches you with the same hawkish look Diluc does, and you're not sure who you'd rather have following you like an unwanted storm cloud.

So, you meander around the property within the limits given to you. You soak up the sun, take in all the smells - everything you've missed for the last six months. All that can be taken away on a whim.

You're smart - you like to believe you're smart but you find a path that hasn't been used and Adelinde is currently distracted because of Hillie and Moco, you consider. One foot in front of the other.

Liyue is only a half a days walk from here.

Just follow this path while everyone is distracted - your heart hammers in your chest as you stand, frozen.

"Is everything okay?" Diluc startles you, you quickly turn to face him and look down, hoping that act appeases him. "Are you ill? Let's get you back inside-"

"No!" You shout, jerking away. He looks unimpressed and you clear your throat. "I mean, no, I'm fine. Just...spaced out."

Diluc makes a noise and you wish he'd go away so you could plan your path of escape.

"Come. Let's eat outside today for lunch." It's an order. You obey, glancing back at the path longingly - hoping it'll still be there in a few days if you are allowed back outside again.

Mercy comes through the sake of the woman who serves as Diluc's eyes. You are allowed outside on a weekly basis, you've been good and sweet and obedient. You sleep with Diluc, kiss him without crying - go along with his whims and delusions.

And one day, when the staff is too busy to watch you, you slip away. The path is overgrown and unseen. You step forward.

And again.

Further into the forgotten bushes and trees until you come to a clearing. The Winery is still in view and the path is vaguely there.

Liyue is a half a days walk, you tell yourself - looking at the shitty shoes you're wearing. The delicate clothes.

And as you turn and walk, vaguely remembering the map - a hand grabs you and jerks you back. Red, hot. You scream.

You swear at him, tell him how much you hate him as he looks at you with hurt and betrayal. He yells orders for that area to be blocked off, says doors are to be locked down as he drags you back because you won't walk for him. You claw at him and more words tumble out. Adelinde simply watches.

"You got greedy." Diluc snaps as he shoves you into your shared room. You cannot cause a scene anymore - watching his Vision glow with his growing emotions. You do not wish to deal with burns on top of the scrapes and bruises you just got. And whatever punishment he'll inflict on you now. "I never should have agreed to let you go outside. I could have lost you!"

"That's the point." you mutter. His eyes burn.

"What?"

You cross your arms over your chest and look at him in the eyes. "I said what I said."

Diluc is quiet for a moment - as if thinking. Finally, he turns to Adelinde, who only looks at you with pity and disappointment.

"They are to not receive a meal for the next two days. No one but me is to see them."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm doing this because I care about you." Diluc tells you but you only just stare at him. He considers many things in that moment but chooses to leave instead, door half slamming behind him.

You don't wince anymore.

"You should have been grateful for what you were given," Adelinde tells you as she goes to work to make your bed, pick out different clothes. "Do you understand that I had to convince him to allow you such a freedom?"

"I'm sorry." you say, automatically. She does not answer, opting to leave you alone with nothing more to say.

[escha-ashengrotto]

My Name

Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

Summary: Someone covers your eyes and makes you guess who he is. Of course, you already knew the answer but you still played along, deciding to tease him.

Notes: Suggestive themes in the end. Established relationship. Azul calls you sweetheart.

A/N: Some sprinkles of spice here 😳 Also, Azul is described to be great at cooking for this fic. I made this before his Master Chef event came out but even now, I'm still confused if he is good or bad or simply okay at cooking 😭 Let's just think he's good, okay? ☺️ For the sake of the plot 😂

A repost from my old blog @escha-evenstar. Edited.

"Ah!" You exclaimed in shock at having your eyes suddenly covered by someone's gloved hands.

"Guess who I am correctly and I shall reward you," he said. "If you guess wrongly," he continued as he moved his head closer to your ear, his voice becoming low as he whispered. "...I'll have to punish you."

You couldn't help but giggle at his actions. You already knew who he was the moment he made contact with you but decided to play along.

"Mmmm.. can I at least ask questions about my mysterious captor? I wouldn't want to be punished for guessing wrongly."

"Three questions. I'll let you ask three. Afterwards, you are to guess my name."

"Only three? That's kind of hard," you said while pouting.

"Then you better ask the right questions, sweetheart." He said huskily, putting emphasis on his endearment for you.

Oh my.

The way it rolled off his tongue made you feel a bit weak on the knees.

"Hmmm. Alright. For my first question, is my captor.. great at cooking?"

Azul smiled. "Yes."

"Hehe. That's interesting," you said amused. "For my second question, is my captor.. someone with a high position in his dorm?"

Of course. I am Housewarden of Octavinelle, after all.

"Yes, I am. Proud to say, in fact."

"Wow! That's really nice. I'm sure you must be an amazing person," you said, still feigning innocence.

For the third question, you decided to tease him a bit. "Last question. Is my captor.. extremely smart and attractive?"

That made Azul pause. Good thing he still has your eyes covered because otherwise you'd have seen the pinkish blush on his face.

Your words kept running in Azul's thoughts.

Smart? Definitely. But attractive? Well..

His past has made him feel insecure about his appearance. Hence, he continuously worked hard to maintain his current figure. You did say you find him to be very attractive, both in human form and in merform. He knows you're genuine with your compliments too. Still, Azul felt shy from hearing such words from you.

Does I say yes? Or maybe I should just invalidate the question?

From the silence you received, it was safe to assume you had Azul flustered. You tried to stifle your laughter. "Hehe. I'll take that as a yes. I mean, even your voice sounds attractive," you said, making him a blush some more. "I think I know who you are now, mysterious captor."

Azul tried to compose himself from your teasing, putting on a confident front once more. "Is that so? Remember, if you guess incorrectly, I'm going to have to punish you."

"Yep. I'm sure!"

"Then what's my name?"

"Someone who's really good at cooking. Someone who's great at school with an important status in his dorm. Someone who's intelligent and very much attractive. You are—"

Azul waited for your response with bated breath.

"Jamil?" You said teasingly, even though you knew he was Azul.

You were expecting a playful reaction from him. Maybe he would pinch your cheeks and pout or maybe he would tickle you at your sides. But there was none. He wasn't moving and something in the air felt different. You then realized you were in trouble. Big trouble.

"No, wait! I'm sorry. I was only kidding. I know it's you Azul!" You pleaded.

No response.

"...Azul?" You called out to him nervously.

A few seconds passed by before you heard a heavy sigh from behind.

"Such a shame. I thought you would have gotten the right answer but it seems my hope was misplaced. You poor and unfortunate soul."

He moved to cover both of your eyes with a single hand instead as the other traveled down to wrap tightly around your waist before he pulled you closer. Your back in direct contact with his chest.

"You're just asking for punishment, aren't you?" He said right next to your ear, his voice dangerously low.

"No! I was just- Aah!" You were cutoff as you felt him plant kisses from your ear down to your exposed neck, making you blush. "Azuuul~" You moaned softly.

"That's my name, sweetheart. If only you said my name."

He started to bite down and suck on your skin, leaving a dark red mark. "I could have given you a nice reward but you just had to give a wrong answer."

He continued his onslaught on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. "But don't worry, sweetheart. You won't make that same mistake."

Azul whispered in your ear once more. You could imagine that handsome smirk as you hear the deviousness in his voice.

"I'll make sure the only word you'll be saying afterwards is my name."

Masterlist here!

If you enjoyed this: likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[doodle-pops]

Yes, No, Under the Mistletoe

Maeglin x reader

Request: It's timmeeeee! Yayyyyy!!! Okay okay, so... I'm thinking a fic where maeglin has a crush on y/n but is unaware on how to approach it... For obvious reasons. So he goes to his best friend Salgant for advise. Salgant then suggests tthat because humans have brought along their festive traditions, that maybe maeglin try at upcoming feast the mistletoe trick and of course our boy maeglin is low key petrified of the idea. I just really wanna see some maeglin and Salgant works because there's almost none so write it however you prefer, I'm very curious about your take. Have an incredible festive season luv! You deserve it❤️🤍 - anon

A/N: I was not expecting such a simple fic to become this many words, but that’s what happens when you have the power of imagination and free will to create.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing

Synopsis: Torn between willingly approaching you and cowering being a wall, Maeglin resorts to requesting dire help from his dear friend, Salgant, all for the sake of not making a fool of himself around you.

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“I…require your advice.”

“You’re telling me,” Salgant said, leaning back in his chair and regarding Maeglin with an expression of poorly concealed delight, “that you, the great craftsman and lord of Gondolin, have been utterly undone by a mortal?”

Maeglin’s sharp glare could have cut stone. “I came to you for advice, not mockery.”

Salgant held up his hands in mock surrender, the silver rings on his fingers catching the light. “Peace, my friend, peace. I mean no harm. But you must admit, it’s a rather amusing predicament.”

Maeglin crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair, his dark eyes narrowing. “If you find it so amusing, perhaps I should seek counsel elsewhere.”

“Now, now,” Salgant said, sitting up and waving a hand to placate him. “No need for that. I’ll help you, of course. But first, tell me—why haven’t you simply spoken to them?”

The young Lord’s expression darkened further. “Because I do not know how. I am not…adept at such things. And I do not wish to make a fool of myself.”

Salgant’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he set his harp aside. “Do you now? And here I thought you were beyond the reach of such concerns. Pray, tell me more.”

Maeglin hesitated, his pride warring with the desperate need for guidance. Finally, he relented. “It concerns the mortal…the one called Y/N.”

“Ah,” Salgant said, his lips curling into a knowing smile. “The human who has caught your eye.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Go on.”

Maeglin scowled, unused to feeling so exposed. “I do not know how to approach them. They’re…different. Humans are different. I cannot gauge how they might respond or even whether they would entertain the notion of…of courtship.”

Salgant leaned back, regarding Maeglin with a thoughtful expression. “You, my dear Maeglin, are in luck. It so happens that I have been observing our mortal guests with great interest. Their ways are peculiar, yes, but not incomprehensible.”

Maeglin arched an eyebrow. “And what do you suggest?”

A mischievous glint appeared in Salgant’s eyes. “The Midwinter Feast. Humans are fond of traditions, are they not? One such tradition involves mistletoe. Do you know of it?”

Maeglin shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. “What has mistletoe to do with this?”

“Everything!” Salgant declared, rising to his feet with a theatrical flourish. “It is a human custom that when two people find themselves beneath a sprig of mistletoe, they must share a kiss. It is playful, innocent, and altogether charming. The perfect opportunity to express your interest without the risk of outright rejection.”

Maeglin paused as he swivelled his head to watch from the balcony, his onyx eyes tracing your figure as you moved amidst the crowd below. You were laughing at something one of your companions had said, the sound soft and melodic even to his keen ears. The sunlight caught strands of your hair, making it seem as though it had been spun from molten gold. A curious warmth stirred in his chest, one he had come to associate with you.

Maeglin then returned his focus to his dear friend, drowning out the noise of the city in the background, his discomfort evident. “You want me to ambush them under a plant?”

Salgant laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Not an ambush, Maeglin. A moment. A chance to make your feelings known in a way that is both subtle and daring. Imagine it—her surprise, her blush. You must trust me in this. Have I ever led you astray?”

“It is foolish,” Maeglin said, his tone flat.

“It is effective,” Salgant countered. “And besides, what have you to lose? Your pride? You’ve risked far more for far less. If they respond positively, then you’ll know they share your feelings. And if they do not…well, you can always blame it on the tradition. A harmless misunderstanding.”

Maeglin hesitated, torn between his apprehension and the flicker of hope Salgant’s words inspired. “I do not know…”

“Do it for them, then,” Salgant said gently, his tone unusually sincere. “They deserve to know how you feel. And you deserve to tell them.”

“Very well,” he said, at last, his voice quiet but firm. “I will consider it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Salgant said, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s discuss strategy. Timing is everything, of course, and you’ll need to ensure that the mistletoe is placed in a location where—”

Maeglin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as Salgant launched into a detailed plan. He wasn’t sure whether he would survive the feast, but one thing was certain: he was in far deeper than he had ever intended.

**

The Hall of Feasts was ablaze with light and colour that evening, its high ceilings adorned with garlands of evergreen and glittering lanterns. Tables laden with food and drink stretched across the room, and the air was filled with the mingling scents of roasted meats, sweet pastries, and spiced wine. Laughter and music echoed through the hall as elves and men celebrated together, their differences momentarily forgotten in the warmth of camaraderie.

It had started innocently enough. You, a human of the Edain, had arrived in Gondolin with a small group of your kin, seeking refuge from the dangers beyond its secret borders. Your presence had been a curiosity at first, something novel in the otherwise elven city. But where others had gradually accepted you with polite distance, Maeglin found himself inexplicably drawn to you.

You were unlike anyone he had known—your perspective refreshingly frank, your laughter unguarded, and your warmth like the spring sun on winter snow. And yet, for all his knowledge of smithing, mining, and strategy, Maeglin found himself utterly at a loss when it came to you. His feelings unsettled him. He didn’t know how to express them—whether he even should.

Maeglin stood near the edge of the room, his dark attire lending him an air of brooding elegance. His sharp gaze scanned the crowd, seeking you amidst the throng. He had taken Salgant’s advice—though not without misgivings—and now all he needed to carry out was the most excruciating part of the task, guiding you towards the mistletoe.

When he spotted you near the hearth, engaged in lively conversation with a group of elves and men, his heart raced. You looked radiant. You wore a dress of deep green, the colour of evergreen leaves, and your hair was adorned with small silver ornaments that caught the light as you moved. To Maeglin, you looked more radiant than the stars themselves. For a moment, he hesitated, his confidence faltering in the face of his own insecurities. What if you laughed? What if you rejected him?

“You’re staring again,” Salgant muttered, appearing at his side with a goblet of wine in hand. “At least try to be subtle.”

“I am not staring,” Maeglin replied, though his voice lacked conviction.

Salgant rolled his eyes. “You’ve been standing there like a statue for the past quarter of an hour. If you don’t move soon, people will start to think you’ve been turned to stone.”

Maeglin ignored the remark, his attention still fixed on you. Salgant sighed dramatically. “Fine. Have it your way. But remember, the mistletoe is in place. All you need to do is get them there.”

“And how, exactly, am I to do that?” Maeglin asked, his tone sharp. “I cannot simply drag them across the hall.”

“Of course not,” Salgant said, looking scandalised by the very idea. “You must be subtle. Start a conversation, and draw them in. The rest will follow naturally.”

“Nothing about this feels natural,” Maeglin muttered, but Salgant only grinned.

“Then you’d best hope they find your awkwardness endearing.” With that, he clapped Maeglin on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him alone once more.

But then you turned, your gaze catching him from across the room. A smile bloomed on your lips, and you raised a hand in greeting. Maeglin felt his resolve strengthen, the sight of your smile banishing his doubts. He moved towards you, weaving through the crowd with the practised ease of a warrior.

“Lord Maeglin!” you warmly greeted as he approached. “I’m glad you came. I was beginning to think you might avoid the feast altogether.”

“I considered it,” he admitted lowly. “But it seems I was drawn here nonetheless.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a curious expression. “Drawn? To the feast, or to the company?”

“The company,” he said before he could stop himself, his honesty surprising even him.

Your eyes widened slightly, and a blooming smile graced your face. “Well,” you said softly, “I’m glad for it.”

“You look…very lovely.”

You smiled, and his heart skipped a beat. “Thank you. And you are as striking as ever.”

He felt a faint flush rise to his cheeks but quickly pushed it aside. “I hope you are enjoying the feast.”

“I am,” you said, nodding. “It is quite different from the celebrations of my people, but no less beautiful. And you?”

He hesitated, then said, “I find such gatherings…overwhelming. But they have their merits.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “Overwhelming? I never would have guessed. You seem so composed.”

Maeglin glanced away, the faintest flicker of unease crossing his sharp features. “Composure is easily mistaken for ease. In truth, I prefer quieter settings.”

“I can understand that,” you replied, your voice softening. “Large gatherings can be exhausting. But I am glad you’re here. It wouldn’t feel complete without you.”

His gaze snapped back to you, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. He opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. You, meanwhile, seemed perfectly at ease, as if the compliment had been the most natural thing in the world.

A moment of silence passed between you before you broke it with a gentle laugh. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“You did not,” he said quickly, though the faint warmth in his cheeks betrayed him. Desperate to regain control of the conversation, he gestured towards the hall. “Would you care to…walk with me? Away from the crowd.”

Your smile widened, and you nodded. “I’d like that.”

He led you away from the throng, weaving through clusters of laughing guests and past the tables laden with food and drink. You followed him without hesitation, your presence a quiet reassurance. As you walked, Maeglin’s thoughts raced. This was his chance. Salgant’s ridiculous plan rested on him manoeuvring you beneath the mistletoe now discreetly hanging in one of the quieter alcoves.

The corridor you entered was far less crowded, its walls lined with draperies depicting the history of Gondolin. The torches burned lower here, their light casting soft shadows. The laughter and music from the feast hall grew muted, leaving only the sound of your footsteps.

“This part of the city is so peaceful,” you said, your voice breaking the quiet. “It feels like stepping into another world.”

“It is often overlooked,” Maeglin replied. “Most prefer the grandeur of the main halls. But I find solace here.”

“You have a way of finding beauty in stillness,” you observed, glancing at him. “That’s rare.”

He hesitated, unsure how to respond. Your words were kind, but they touched something deeper, a part of him that longed to share more of himself with you yet feared rejection. Finally, he said, “Stillness allows one to think clearly. To appreciate what might otherwise be missed.”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “I think I understand. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet moments that we see most clearly.”

You walked in silence for a while longer, the air between you filled with a comfortable sense of understanding. As you approached the alcove, Maeglin felt his pulse quicken. The sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, a delicate cluster of green and white against the stone. It was subtle but unmistakable.

He slowed his steps, glancing at you to gauge your reaction. You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on the mistletoe. A flicker of recognition passed over your face, and you turned back to him with a soft smile.

“Mistletoe,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “A curious tradition, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Maeglin agreed, his voice quieter than he intended. He felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the seconds stretching into an eternity. He knew this was the moment to act, to take the leap Salgant had urged upon him. But his courage faltered, and he could only stare at you, his heart pounding.

You tilted your head, your smile softening. “Maeglin?”

“Yes?” he managed barely above a whisper.

“Do you believe in traditions?” you asked, your tone carrying a playful edge, though your gaze was steady.

His breath caught. “I…suppose they have their place.”

“Then perhaps we should honour this one,” you said, stepping closer. Your voice was gentle but sure, and the warmth in your eyes set his heart alight.

Before he could lose his nerve, you tiptoed and met his lips. Their slight roughness—due to him biting them all night—brushed yours in a kiss that was uncertain, almost reverent. The world seemed to still be around him, the weight of his fears and uncertainties falling away in the light of your closeness. The faint falling of the snow outside, the wind coming to a gentle halt, the sound of the chattering from the main hall disappearing—all stopped for you two. Your lips were soft and warm, and as you kissed him back, his heart ascended.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes met his, a faint blush colouring your cheeks. “See? That wasn’t so difficult.”

Maeglin stared at you, his usual composure utterly undone. “I…I was afraid,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Afraid you would not…welcome it.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “You have no reason to fear, Maeglin. Not with me.”

He paused momentarily as the next words on his mind came forth to the tip of his tongue. Taking a deep breath and gathering every ounce of courage, he attempted. “Then, you would not mind me asking if you would be interested in allowing me to court you?”

“I do not like your uncertainty. Are you sure you wish to court me?” you returned with a hopeful gleam in your eyes, encouraging him to be more confident with his question.

“I…I do! It’s just…” His voice trailed off, as did his eyes, falling to the floor. But when he felt your hand reaching out to tenderly squeeze his, his eyes snapped back to yours and he exhaled. Squaring his shoulders and standing prouder, he met your gaze head on, his hand reaching out to clasp the same hand that held his, confidently. “Y/N, I would like to court, and hope that you will accept my proposal.”

Your lips broke into a smile that reached your eyes as you nodded your head, pleased at the surge of confidence he emitted. It was impossible for you to reject his offer, not when he overcame a boundary all for you. Returning a gentle squeeze to his hand, enjoying the size-difference as his hand enveloped yours, you hummed. “I would that a lot, my lord. I accept your proposal.”

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[thatdeadaquarius]

How was been your 2025 everything alright?ur still alive?

Thanks for asking!! <333

Sorry abt the radio silence on and off again guys, its the same old story tbh, life stuff like fulltime job, just moved again (30 min away but still woof), etc

I havent stopped thinking abt you guys for a minute i stg lol - i keep wanting to come back and post and whatnot, but the fics i promised (and am still in the trenches fighting to finish) have rlly been the big bog down of this blog for me

So i felt like anytime i had to write, i would try to spend writing the fic(s) but that meant no asks getting answered or posted 🫠💔

Ill instead take the pressure off myself to get those done, and simply chip away at it as i please, and focus on asks instead

I think the next big step ive been thinking about for a few months now and decided to go ahead with is clearing my inbox out some!

Ive got rlly old asks that either feel embarassing to answer so late,, or are out of context by now :/, and i definitely think tumblr ate some whole,, so for the new years sake and in order get myself to revive my sagau content blog again, ill be posting only some asks i feel i have good drafts for, despite it being forever ago, but otherwise ill be ready for asks again! 🥹🫶

I hope thats okay and Im geuninely so sorry for anyone who still remembers sending an ask and not getting a response back /gen :( 💔

Im very excited to come back and hope you guys arent too annoyed at me for being gone and doing this :( /gen

I encourage you if you ever sent me an ask i didnt answer to please send me something again!! Id love to hear from you guys and what youve been thinking about Genshin Sagau (x reader or not) wise for the past year (and a half?? Ooofff idekkk atppp💀)

I appreciate anyone bothering to check in, and hope to a more active (and hopefully more peaceful for me) 2025 for however much is left

☆

Oh, and abt genshin!! I havent rlly liked the direction they went what with colorism/racism in Sumeru, and Fontaine was better, but then Natlan has gotta be a low point in the story/game overall for me, and to that end, i havent rlly played it, ive just gotten to finishing up Fontaine,

So for now NO Natlan characters please!

^^ /nm /neutral ^^

I have NO idea what their personalities are, and im still trying to get over my dislike of certain character designs (cough🐮cough) and still trying to fathom Natlans story at all rlly,

Heres to hoping theyll improve with Sneznaya, bc weve been waiting too long on that for it to be a screw up ngl

Of course, if you like one of Natlans characters, or whatever else abt it, ur welcome to talk abt it in my inbox, I just mean I wont be writing abt them just yet, and yes i intend to eventually!

(im sure its established via fandom, but ill be making some interpretations when i do write them, if u dont know what i mean, just look at my non-white deffo POC Alhaitham and Tighnari I drew and referenced in the past, Natlan will be getting the same, more tasteful makeover, most likely from what I take in from others headcanons, bc i am unfortunately an Underqualified White Person when it comes to that)

☆

Also, my ao3 works are now locked down, due to recent AI scrapping, both personally thats been done to one of my works by a rando guest, and that general sweep that happened to ao3 recently.

I believe 4, maybe 5 out of my 6 works were taken.

They are still readable, but you have to be a registered user first, and I think I will be continuing that for my future works, as unfortunate as it is, because i generally like my writing to be accessible. But these idiots are making Ai wanna write stories instead of solve our math problems or clean our streets or something more useful, so here we are.

Really wish I could do something similar for tumblr, but i guess we cant have an ethical peaceful society everywhere...

☆

Whew, if you stuck around this long to read all my shit, I love you deeply and ur a real one

Thank you to anyone whos checked in, still revisited my old posts (despite the cringe and mistakes ive made along the way), and the general support ive still seen from Sagau community!!

It means everything to me that I still felt welcomed back despite going on and off so much, i felt very guilty about for literal months, so thank you all for this!!

Hope your having a great weekend, day/night, or whatever time of day it is for you,

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

:)