#they are where you find the longest lasting joy that gets you through hard days
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Dude, someone just replied to one of my YouTube comments saying they noticed my comments on a old series I watched six years ago and that they were happy I was still active. I don't even remember a good chunk of the series, but I do remember being obsessed with it and theorizing about it with my friends because it was the last vestiges of magic and mysticism that I could cling to, and I remember commenting a lot to try and talk about those theories, the storyline, and why certain characters might be acting the way they were.
And I don't remember the series, but I do remember how happy it made me. I was living in England at the time, and the videos posted right before my bedtime, and I distinctly remember sneaking my phone every night while grounded because I loved watching the series daily upload (the start of my awful sleep schedule, but worth it).
And all of that just came rushing back. I don't even know this person, and they're happy I'm still commenting on posts on YouTube. I wanna smile and laugh and cry and my day was good, but it just got infinitely better. I hope you see this, random stranger, and I hope you know that your little "kinda weird comment" gave me so much happiness.
#no one cares but i'll post it anyway!#it's always the strangest little things that stick with people#a high five in a crowded hallway#a random comment saying “glad to see you”#holding someone's hand in a pizze shop you walked into to get out if the cold#the more tiny moment happen the more convinced I become that they are the reason life is worth living#they are where you find the longest lasting joy that gets you through hard days
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PCCP's 2024 multi-chapter fic roundup
I just wanted to take a moment here to celebrate some of my favorite multi-chapter fics I wrote in 2024! I have had so much joy in writing these and sharing them, and if you're looking for something to read, maybe give one of them a shot?
"Seabird, Fly Home" is my favorite fic I wrote this year. This is a reincarnation fic with heavy themes of grief, loss, and mourning, in which paranormal investigators Ed and Stede uncover the mystery behind their past lives. Very angsty but with a very happy ending. Rated M, 57k words.
"Star Waka" was the last multi-chapter fic I wrote this year and another stand-out favorite. Centered around ideas of identity, community, and learning to love being alive after you've given up on it, this is a sci-fi space trucker au. When starship captain Ed is assigned to mentor newbie captain Stede after a failed suicide attempt, he's able to come home to himself. Rated M, 55k words, and I think this fic really proves how much I've grown as a writer this year.
"Where We Belong: a Duet" is a former hitman!Ed au, and the longest fic I wrote this year. You like whump? Stede joyfully learning to Do Crimes? Then this one's for you! After stumbling onto Stede's doorstep after a last case gone wrong, all Ed wants is a quiet life, but as Stede tries to keep the peace only to find trouble constantly brewing on the horizon, they have to work for their happy ending. Rated E, 115k words.
"On a Bright Day, Next Week" started out as a Portal 2 au and took on a life of its own! In this sci-fi au, Stede wakes up in the cryosleep lobby at Queen Anne Research Laboratories, and must work with the erratic AI system ED to uncover the mystery of what happened there. Rated M, 54k words.
"This Sudden Burst of Sunlight" is such a special fic, centered around depressed, heavily suicidal Ed choosing to live after he's given up on a happy ending. Very angsty but so happy at the end! Rated E, 72k words.
"Dear Ed, Again" is such a fun fic and I just love it! When punk rockstar Ed and freshly-out Stede decide to run away from their lives together, they fake a relationship to prove to everyone in their lives that they're better off alone. As they heal with each other, they discover there's so much love still waiting for them. Rated E, 78k words.
"My Ocean Deep" was my first fic of 2024! This actual kraken!Ed au is sweet, whumpy, and has a super happy ending. Featuring cryptid hunter Stede teaming up with Ed, who just happens to be the kraken they're looking for, with lots of crew hijinks and perhaps my favorite Ned Low ever (what if he was just a really fucked-up marine biologist?) Rated E, 65k words.
"If I Get Lost Along the Way" is one I personally re-read often. After getting out of a string of abusive relationships, Ed meets Stede, they hit it off after going to key his ex's car at the same time, and they help each other learn to build a life they're excited to live. Rated E, 75k words.
"Everything That Rises Must Converge" is the shortest on this list, but I think it still hits hard! This is a twist on the post-s2 spitefic genre, with Ed being convinced their inn is haunted and their happy ending is crumbling apart, and as he unpacks his fear and allows himself to feel safe for the first time, their house shifts from a source of terror into a home. Rated M, 6k words.
"Sounds Like Pearls" is my first foray into writing age regression fic! More than anything, this fic is a character study into Ed's childhood trauma and its lingering effects, but it also has plenty of fluff, cute little!Ed moments, and healing for both Ed and Stede. Rated T, 44k words.
"Ed and Stede's Super Special Top Surgery Vlogs" is a step away from my usual prose style, as this fic is told entirely through videos on Stede's YouTube channel as he and Ed go through the process of Ed's top surgery. Very personal and filled with trans joy! Rated T, 19k words.
Thank you so, so much for everyone who's read along with any one of these fics! They've all been a joy and a pleasure to share. <3
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Right so I love your writing and just need more mx m cause fuck I'm tired of imaging dead me .
I'm a Trans man..I think ( female to male ??) So I was hoping for a fic somewhat like that . Arthur and reader meet when they're female but 2 years later or so they meet again and arthur doesnt recognize y/n (because they transitioned) I just want some fluff and acceptance of that . I know back then homosexuality was a big no no and being trans is unheard of so it'll be fun to see where you take it.
Arthur Morgan x Trans!Male!Reader
Summary: You’ve felt stuck and unhappy for years, so, in pursuit of your own happiness you leave everyone and everything you’ve even known behind. Including your currently out of state lover, Arthur Morgan.
Word count: 6,011
Warnings: reader is a bartender, reader steals, readers sister and mother are mentioned, implied past sex between Arthur and reader, drinking and alcoholism mentioned (not reader or Arthur), y/n and his guns, guns mentioned, shooting mentioned, abandonment, hurt comfort, reader being One Of The Guys™️, sleep deprived Arthur, Tilly being helpful, reader get misgendered and deadnamed a lot but it’s before they knew he was trans, reader cries really fucking hard at one point Arthur being sleep deprived, sleep deprive Arthur being really gay for Reader, not mentioned in the story but the reason Arthur is so tired is because about half way though his second trip to town his horse bucked him off for pushing her too hard and he had to walk the rest of the way, worlds longest warning list damn
Sept. 15, 18XX
My Dear Arthur Morgan
It’s been thirteen months since I saw you last. The time has passed slowly for me- sometimes it felt as though I was standing still for days at a time. Like everyone and everything around me was moving forward- but for me, and only me, time stood still. In the months since you’ve left it seems my joy, as well as a my love for my home town, has dwindled to nothing. Staying here, the way I am, it pains my heart. I know I said I would be here, that I would wait for you to return. But I need to change and the change that I need cannot be achieved here. The people here know me, they’ve known me my whole life, and no matter what I do I will always be that same little girl to them.
I’m heading up to a little town in Nevada, maybe I can start over there.
Always yours, D/n.
Arthur received your final letter months ago. In the time since he’s read it hundreds of times, mulling over every little detail. The crumbles in the paper, the unevenness of your writing, the all too familiar tear stains that permanently warped small circles on the page, the way your name ripped through the paper, as though you’d traced it dozens of times before sending it off.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what happened, why after all this time of waiting, all this time of writing him dozens of love letters, why you decided to say goodbye, he understood change. Arthur has seen people change, he’s changed, and if it was change you needed he’d do it again. But you left. If he really wanted to, he could find you, ride day and night, ask everyone he saw if they’d seen the beautiful woman that he loved more than anything. But…
You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be hunted down, you didn’t need to be convinced. You needed change, not a reason to stay the same. So he let you go and even when the following days were filled with the nothing but pain and confusion and the complete desolation your decision brought, he still let you go.
The gang knew he was hurting, he was withdrawn, went off on his own for a couple of days. They figured he went to find you, but when he returned, without you and in a severely worse state, they knew not to press him on it.
You weren’t much better.
This was your decision and you were going to live with it. You yearned for Arthur, every day and every night, it was different from waiting for him in your hometown, he was the one who’d left then, but you knew he’d come back to you one day. Now you were the one leaving, and you could never go back to him.
You needed to move on, you sold every piece of clothing you had to a local tailor, it was almost funny to see some of your nicer dresses displayed in the window the next morning, early on, your new wardrobe came from various drunk men. You’d be surprised just how much you could find in an alley next to a bar. After you had an outfit, a proper male outfit, you were able to assimilate.
You lived above a tavern. The owner was far too old and far too tired to run it anymore, and he wanted to live in his own house for the first time in decades, so he offered you the place for a little over a hundred bucks. You worked at the bar at night, while you handled various chores and other responsibilities during the day. The pay wasn’t great, but you had a permanent place to stay and spare food from the bar to eat, and it was more than enough.
You’d taken up a new name, y/n, you thought about it for a long time before you left. A good name, the name of a proud man with no connection to who you were before. No one ever questioned you. You were just a man to them. They teased you, in the earlier days, called you feminine, pointed out your hand, your cheeks, and your hips among other things, but in the end it was just teasing, they didn’t know why you were like that, and they didn’t question when you put in an effort to change or hide your more feminine aspects. Maybe they were just too drunk to care.
You loved this life, you were just the friendly bartender.
But even with this new life, you found yourself missing aspects of you’re old one.
Your old friends, your old family, your old lover. They wouldn’t take you back, not like this, they’d think something was wrong, they’d try to change you, try force you back into the box you clawed yourself out of.
But still you dreamed of them, your sisters cooking, the way she was effortlessly graceful even when she was teasing you, your friends, the girls you’ve know since you were in diapers, singing, making flower crowns, getting into trouble. Arthur…
You dreamed of Arthur the most. Your days and nights were filled with thoughts of him. You think back to your last night together, the way he held you so tightly, you swore you could still feel his hands there. The praises he muttered, the love he confessed through out the night, every move he made, the way he left and the hole that was left in your chest after.
You dreamed of him, like one day you’d wake up and he’d be beside you. And he tell you that he loved you, not d/n, not the girl from before, but you, y/n, as your truest self.
But just like yesterday, and the days before that, he wasn’t there when you opened your eyes.
The sun was just coming up. But the sliver of light that did shine through the window seemed to magically be angled at your eyes. Making the rest you so desperately wanted impossible.
You pushed yourself up with a groan, your elbow popping the moment you were upright, your eyes were just barely open, you scratched your chest and let out a long yawn.
Your room was still dark for the most part, but you were still able to pull on some pants and fasten a belt so you could head downstairs. The tavern was empty, you cleaned up good last night and you wouldn’t have to worry about really opening until later. Still, you unlocked the front door and flipped the wooden sign in the window to say open, the people here knew you weren’t really open to serve, you were just open to the chatty people that passed through in the morning, locals coming to say hi, or travelers in need of direction, others came to sit with their friends and get out of the violent Nevada sun. Either way, you’d be polite enough to them, but they weren’t welcome for a drink for another couple of hours.
Stepping into the backyard you picked the laundry off the line and into a basket. You heard the bell up on top of the front door ring a couple of times. As you got closer to the back door you could hear the faint chatter of two people inside, Doctor Mayer, one of three doctors in town, and Anita, a house wife. She was in here more often than her husband was, but you always figured that she just needed something to do while he worked considering you’ve only ever seen her drink a handful of times in the past year.
When you came through the back door she let out an excited yelp,
“Y/n!” She shouted, like she hadn’t seen you the night before.
“Mrs. Matthews.” You said with a respectful nod. “How’s you’re husband?”
She groaned, “paranoid.”
Setting the basket down on the bar, in between the upturned stools, you turned back to her.
“He used to be a farmer, farmers are always paranoid.”
“He was not a damn farmer, don’t let that man fool you, he was a farm hand, it’s different,”
Dr. Mayer piped in, his voice low and tired, though that just how he always sounded, “the bastard smells like one…”
“It’s getting warmer out there.” You responded, leaning against the bar.
“Doesn’t mean he has to walk around smelling like a damn animal!”
You laughed, turning back to Anita, “what does your husband do anyway?”
“He’s a banker, which is why he’s so damn paranoid in the first place.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well..” she stated, adjusting herself in her chair, “one of his colleague’s brother-in-law told his colleague that he saw a gang ‘a outlaws heading up this way, but here’s the kicker, Johnny, the colleague, is a notorious liar. Lies left and right like his life depends on it.”
“Johnny Flores?” You asked.
She smacked the table, “That’s the bastard!”
“Yeah, he comes in here every Wednesday like clockwork, telling the boys his stories. It’s a surprise the whole town hasn’t heard about this..”
“Well, it isn’t Wednesday yet, is it? It’ll make it’s way into you’re bar, don’t worry”
You laughed again, grabbing the basket off the table you said, “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, got a few more thing to settle.”
You weren’t too worried about the rumors, there wasn’t much in the town anyways, no sheriff either so if they did come and make noise, it’d be a free for all and they’d leave with less than they came with. Everybody had a gun, hell- you had two, a shotgun the last owner had given you, and a pistol Arthur had given you a few weeks before he left, one was under the bar on a shelf, the other was under your bed, you’ve never really had a need for either, but if Johnny was being truthful for once in his life, which you doubted, you figured it was good to have them.
That night, when the bar did open, a few unfamiliar faces strode in, though none were to shady. A couple of working girls took to them quick and they were gone after being chatted up by for a bit. Outside of that, it was a normal night.
You closed late, shooing out the last drunk nearly two hours later than usual. Wiping down the tables, flipping the chairs and stools on them, washing the glasses, sweeping, mopping and making sure the front and back door was locked before heading upstairs. You scrubbed yourself down at your washstand. Of all things you missed from your old home, your bathtub was one of the bigger ones. Your mother had invested in it early on, and now you were saving to have one installed here too. What you wouldn’t do for a hot bath after a long day. You were almost there, another fifty dollars and you’d have all the money you needed. That’s were a good portion of your money went, you didn’t mind, after all you’ve sacrificed you deserve something nice.
——-
A couple of weeks later, Wednesday afternoon, Johnny Flores and a couple of his friend decided to take over the seats directly in front of the bar. Again, he told stories of bandits headed your way, but he was “serious” this time.
“I swear, I know what I saw, Dutch’s boys, just like the damn posters! I saw them coming from the east, clear as day.”
Before one of his friend could respond you asked, “and what the hell were you doing in the east, huh?”
“Well-“ he straightened himself out, “I was out with my lady friend-“
“The prostitute-“ his friend, Oscar, interrupted.
“-Not a prostitute, she's a-”
“-escort-” both Johnny and his three friends said together, they've heard that one before.
“Isnt that the same thing?” you asked.
“He doesn't think so!” Oscar said.
“They almost knocked our carriage over!” Johnny shouted, getting the conversation on track.
“Sure they did..” you said, drying the glass in your hand before setting it back down. “Bet they stuck you up too, only let you live cuz you're so pretty.”
“Go to hell, y/n.”
“I'll go where ever your lying, drunk ass ain't.”
“Im not lying, and I’m not drunk either, so get me another whiskey, asshole!”
“Hey now,” Daniel, who was also a regular, piped up, “careful how you talk to him, he might shoot ya’”
You set the glass down in front of him, he snatched it quickly, gulping it down.
“Or I might just piss in your whiskey.”
He choked hard, luckily the drink went down his throat instead of all over your counter, then you would have shot him. His face morphed to one of irritation, but his friend's laughter was infectious and he found himself laughing along with them.
The night ended with you carrying a passed out Johnny to the alley, you cleaned up, scrubbed yourself down, and went to bed just as you always did.
The next morning a delivery was made to the bar, food and alcohol, you kept your meats and some of your more expensive liquor in the ice box and things like bread and supplies were kept on the shelf. Food wasn't ordered commonly in the tavern, but there were those who ate here nearly every night because they had no skill for cooking and no one else to do it for them. You enjoyed those people, and you think they enjoyed you too, especially since the last owner would drive them out if they tried to come in for more than three days in a row. He thought that they were stealing food from other customers, but you didn't, You knew they were just hungry and needed to eat, and they couldn't be stealing because they always paid.
After that, your day was pretty normal- other than what you consider to be one the best things to happen to you in a long time- your bathtub, your beautiful porcelain bathtub with golden feet and faucet, was done. Fully installed and in perfect working order. You weren't going to pretend to understand how the man you paid did it, but he did. And finally, after what felt like years, you were able to take a hot bath.
It was weird, staring down at your distorted body as you soaked. Usually, when you scrubbed yourself down at the washstand all you could think of was how desperately you wanted this to be over. Your mind was clear, but that clarity only lasted so long though, as it did most nights, your mind wander to Arthur.
Saying you missed him was redundant, it was meaningless, it was stupid. You know, but you did. Letting out a long sigh, the last time you saw Arthur was like a dream, you spent an entire day together, you woke up together, ate together, bathed together, dressed together- everything you did, every little move you made reminded you of that day. And with Johnny spreading rumors about the Dutch’s gang, you heard his name more and more. You let yourself sink into the water, your eyes clenched shut as warm water covered your face. You stayed there longer that you should have, when you finally sat up, you were nearly gasping for air.
You got out few minutes later, you were tired, dressing yourself halfway before collapsing into bed.
You didn’t dream that night, your mind either too tired or too pained to show you your usual fantasies.
——-
Arthur swore he wouldn’t look for you, he swore it to you and to himself that he’d let you be free. But it seemed unavoidable now. Dutch had settled the gang in a large clearing in Nevada, the gang was mostly hidden by a small chain of mountains, and there was a streak of towns and settlements all within a couple dozen miles from each other.
There weren’t many cities in Nevada, it was dry and damn near impossible to farm out here if you didn’t know what you were doing, and if that wasn’t enough, the heat would be.
You were out there somewhere.
Dealing with the heat, with the drought, and with the shitty crops. And you still didn’t go back home. He’s been to your home. He's gone back dozens of times, you were never there, whatever you wanted to do, whatever changes you made, you succeded. He was happy for you, you were happy, God he hoped you were happy- he doesn't know what he'd do if he found out you weren't. If you were somewhere miserable and sulking, all this time, when you could have been with him.
He pushed those thoughts back- you were happy, you had to be.
When Arthur mentioned he was riding into the nearest town, he got a few odd looks. It wasn't a secret that you'd run off to Nevada, not even close. Most didn't say much, maybe a quick good luck, or a request for something from town. Some didn't say anything, but Dutch did. Dutch warned him, warned him about you and how some changes weren't good, and if Arthur did see you that he needed to be careful.
Arthur wasn't one to ignore advice, and he didn't ignore it, he thought about it as he road through the desert lands of Nevada, but whatever changes you made, he could handle it. He wasn't a child, he didn't need have his hand held. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd been in this town, or the next one. So for all he knew he'd never have to face you're changes.
The town was bustling with life. The people went about their business. The town was…normal. Small, busy, and normal. He road in unbothered, no one here seemed to care enough to even look when the man when he trotted by.
Hitching his horse to a sturdy pole he set off to one of the small shops nearby, after picking up some extra oat cakes and apples for the horse, he tried to find the sheriff’s office, only to find that this town didn't have one after asking a mildly disheveled yet nicely dressed man for directions, no government either. The town was its own unit outside of the occasional trading.
“Danny Hikman used to be the law here, well, not really, but he kept people on the right track. Encouraged them to do right- and get guns, he used to run a bar a little down the way, gave it to his nephew or something-” the man said, laughing slightly.
“‘ bar any good?” he asked, only half listening to the man.
“The best, fresh food, cold whiskey- bartenders a good guy too, won't hesitate to throw your ass out though.”
“I’ll bet- which way’s that bar, again?”
��——
You started serving earlier than usual today, mostly so you could close earlier without complaint. The familiar chime of the bell above the door called your attention for a less than a second, you recognized Johnny, then looked back down at the glasses you were cleaning.
“Changing your schedule on me, Johnny? I thought you were a Wednesday man?”
He let out a short laugh, sitting in the spot directly in front of you, “just showing a friend around.”
“You’re friends are all alcoholics, I doubt they need help finding a bar.”
“Hey now, I’ve got a new friend. Mr. Uhh-“
“Arthur.”
You felt like you’d just jumped out of your skin, the glass in your hand clattered against the floor, ever so sturdy. Landing thankful one piece. Staring at the man in front of you, standing just behind Johnny, Arthur Morgan, right there, looking just the way he did when he left, just the way you remember him.
He glanced at Johnny, then back at you- it felt like he looked right through you. Looking at you with none of the love or adoration from before. Because he loved d/n, not y/n. Y/n was just a bartender to him, an awful one who apparently couldn’t even hold a damn glass.
Your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your chest was tight and you could feel your throat start to close as tears weld in your eyes. Quickly, you broke eye contact with Arthur, ducking down under the bar to grab the glass, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the forming tears in your eyes before standing up.
“Sorry boys,” you muttered, “you’re, uh, friend startled me is all.”
Taking off his hat and setting down on the counter, Arthur took a seat on one of the stools.
“Sorry, your friend here talked you up quite a bit, had to see for myself if what he said was true.”
You let out a laugh, forced and almost nervous, setting the glass down with the rest of the dirty glasses, you said, “Trust me, it’s true, what you looking for Mr. Arthur?”
“Just Arthur, and whiskey, thanks.”
You nodded to the man before heading to the storage room, you’d hate to admit it, but you wanted to run, straight passed the storage room and out the back door. But that would make Arthur think something was wrong, and yes, something was wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t recognize you, and that was okay, it was supposed to be okay, you left so you wouldn’t be recognized, you left to start over. But he’s out there, and you were hiding in the storage room so you wouldn’t have to face him. You gave yourself a moment, for your throat to release and for your heart to stop pounding and aching. Only the pounding stopped. You needed to work, you couldn’t let them know anything was wrong.
Grabbing a bit of higher quality whiskey out of the icebox, feeling the frosty glass sting your hand as you carried it out of the storage room. Without looking up at the man you grabbed one of the clean glasses and poured him about half a glass. You remember Arthur complaining about it once, only getting serviced the tiniest amount of alcohol, no matter the price. Capping the bottle you gave a short wordless nod before setting it under the counter. Arthur grabbed the glass, before he could speak you were on the other side of the bar, serving somebody else.
Johnny didn’t stay long, he had other things to do on a Thursday afternoon, but Arthur stayed, you poured him a couple more glasses before cutting him off, at least from your expensive whiskey.
“How much do I owe you?” He ask, his speech a bit slurred as he sat unsteadily in his seat.
“Nothing, I’ll put it on Johnny’s tab, come Wednesday he won’t notice it.”
“Thank you kindly-“
“Y/n-“
“Thank you, y/n.”
“You have a good night Mr. Morgan.”
You crawled into bed that night, still in your day clothes, feeling like your heart had been torn out of your chest. And you cried, you cried until the sun came up, until your body couldn't cry anymore and every sound you made was a rough heaving sob. And when you had no more energy left to sob, you stared at your open window, watching the sunrise, listening to the people.
You were supposed to open today, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, staring out the window, at the people, at Mrs. Matthews waiting across the street for you to open your doors.
You flipped the sign back, you stated at the word “OPEN” facing you, then at Mrs. Matthews's face fell as the word “CLOSED” faced her.
————
Sitting on his cot, journal on his lap, Arthur stared at the picture he drew. It wasn't perfect, considering he was half drunk when he drew it, but it was something. The bartender from last night. He was…something. A nervous something. Arthur felt bad for him when he dropped the glass, then he just…stared at him, long enough for Arthur to get a spark of familiarity when he saw his face. Arthur tried to get his attention as the night went on, ordering drinks, asking questions, trying to get the man to stay close, be he'd walk away the moment he'd answered or served him.
He wasn't like that with other patrons, he laughed, he joked- then he kicked everyone out.
He heard him say he was closing early, but let him stay until he finished his last drink. Arthur thought about the name he'd given. Y/n.
“I see you're drawing d/n again, did you catch her in town?”
Looking up he saw Tilly standing next to him with a kind smile on her face.
“No, it's not d/n, some bartender in town, he looks so familiar.”
Tilly hummed, sitting on the cot with Arthur and taking the book out of his lap. She flipped through the pages quickly before finding a drawing of d/n, with your final letter stuck right next to it.
“Needs a change, huh? Maybe she skipped town and became a bartender, you never know.”
“A bartender and a man?”
“You never know Arthur. Maybe that's why she left, couldn't make a change like that where people know you. They would've hunted her down.”
“Tilly..”
“Maybe you should talk to the bartender, if it's not her then it's not her, but if it is, are you really going to miss seeing her again because you won't take a chance?”
Handing the journal back to him she said, “Just think about it, at least.” Then she walked away.
————
You heard the slam of the front door behind you as you sat the freshly cleaned glasses on the rack. If you were going to sulk and lock yourself in the bar then you were going to clean while you did it.
“We’re closed..” you said, your tone not exactly customer friendly.
You had a list of things you needed to do, you've already mopped the floor, scrubbed the tables and walls, washed every glass, plate, and utensil, did your laundry, scrubbed your tub, cleaned your room-
“D/n..?”
You paused, then glanced over your shoulder. You knew it was him, you already knew, you knew his voice too well to ever mistake it. Taking a breath, you hands shaking and heart pounding, you turned around.
“Arthur, I-” you breathed out, but you didn't know what to say. “How did you-”
“Lucky guess..”
Taking slow steps towards the bar, you heard him sigh.
“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure.
You nodded, “Yeah, yeah I'm okay.”
“We should talk-”
“Yes, we should-”
You stepped from behind the counter, still unsure as to what could happen next. Then, without warning, you were pulled into a tight hug, Arthurs's body practically enveloping yours. You stood there, holding him as tightly as you could until your arms started to burn from the strain.
You didn't know what to say, or how to explain what happened, the realization you went through while he was gone, why you left.
When you pulled away you still didn’t know what to say, you opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. You kept your face glued to the ground for a long moment.
“You look different, I didn’t recognize you yesterday..”
You pulled out one of the stools.
“I told you I needed change.”
He pulled another out beside you.
“I know, I just don’t know what I was expecting.”
“This must be so confusing.”
“It is, but I’m betting it was more confusing for you that it could be for anybody else.”
Leaning on the counter, you looked up at him.
“I guess so. In my home town I figured that they’d be a little more angry than confused so I left..” you stopped, taking a breath, “I didn’t want to leave you, Arthur.”
Arthur sat there silently, his eyes turned towards the counter.
You couldn’t help but stare, you haven’t seen him in so long, his eyebrows were slightly scrunched downward, his pretty blue eyes focused on nothing as his mind raced. His fingers tapped against the counter every few seconds. You tried not to let that anxious feeling in your chest build, but the longer he was silent, the harder it got to push down.
“You said you aren't happy anymore..”
You blinked.
“I wasn't.”
“How about now? Are you happy now?”
“I'm.. I have more good days than I did before, so…yeah, I'm happy.”
He stayed silent for another moment. You figured he was just trying to find his words.
Then, when he did speak,
“I still love you.”
You sighed, “I still love you, too, Arthur.”
Another long silence passed. It was odd, you've dreamed of seeing him again, all the damn time. And now that he's here you didn't know what to say. Your relationship, how ever strong it was before, was dying. Even though you loved him and he loved you.
Arthur was having similar thoughts, he didn't care how much you changed, he wanted you to be happy. That's all he wanted for you. But he wants to be with you, he doesn't care that your a man, it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't think it's ever mattered. He's never thought too hard about it. But now, with you sitting there looking the way you did. Looking so different, so muchlike yourself, so much more at peace even though you were being confronted, he thought, ‘yeah, I could be with a man.’
Before he could, you took a chance.
“How long you thinking of staying in town for, Arthur?”
———-
You laughed, he missed your laugh.
“You can't just go around taking people's clothes off!”
“I needed clothes and they were so drunk they wouldn't miss them!” you argued.
“How have you not been caught yet?”
“I bought new clothes!”
“Why couldn't you do that first?”
“I needed to avoid suspicion.”
“Avoid suspicious by stealing clothes..”
You laughed again.
You and Arthur had found your way upstairs, both of you sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He asked you how you ended up here, it was funny, explaining to Arthur, a known outlaw, the various ways you broke the law, and having him lecture you.
“I will not take this from an outlaw!”
“You're an outlaw too, now, Clothes Bandit.”
“Oh that's awful, why couldn't I get something good?”
“‘Good’ like what?”
“I don't know, you're better at naming things than I am.”
He looked over at you a small smile on his face.
“Really now, Mr. Y/n, how’d you come up with that anyways?”
“Well I found a baby naming book.”
He sat up, giving you a look.
“Are you serious?”
You looked at him for a second, a stren expression on your face, then slowly a smile broke out on your face.
“You're an ass.”
“You really think I got Y/n for a baby naming book?”
“You could have!”
“But I didn't-”
Eventually, after showing him your room and the various aspects of your new life that you adored (yes, the tub too), you headed back down to the bar, only to see Daniel, one of Johnny’s friends, behind the bar serving himself.
“Daniel, I'm going to kill you, how many drinks have you had?” you said, rushing over to him, snatching both the glass and bottle from his hand.
“One-” you gave him a look, he caved quickly with a sigh, “five.”
“Goddamnit.”
“‘M sorry, you are closed, your never closed!”
“I wouldn't be serving drinks this early anyways!”
He laughed, walking around to the other side of the bar, “I'm special though right? Won't get shot or banned or nothing?” he practically pleaded, but formed it like a question.
“No, you're not banned, but you still need to leave.”
He sighed, dragging himself out the door.
Sighing yourself, you turned to Arthur, “See what I have to deal with?”
“‘Seems like a handful.”
“Daniel is harmless, he's just an alcoholic.”
“Never met a harmless alcoholic.”
“He's harmless now, he doesn't want to risk almost getting shot again.”
Arthur laughed, sitting at the bar, just like had yesterday, “Who shot at him?”
You stared at him for a moment.
“You?”
“I gave him plenty of warning, see that hole in the wall that there—” you pointed to the very back wall of the tavern, between two tables was a loosely patched hole, “- warning shot, missed him by an inch.”
“Who the hell taught you how to shoot?”
“I taught myself, maybe I could teach you sometime.”
“Very funny, y/n, I wouldn't mind seeing you shoot sometime though.”
“There's a range in the next town, I could take you there sometime.”
The two of you talked until the sun had fully set and the town had gone quiet. The bar made you feel more open somehow, it always did. Arthur helped too, you guess. You missed him, you missed being like this, so normal with him. You were surprised his quickly things settled back in place, like neither of you had ever left. It was clear that you were different, but Arthur seemed to accept this change flawlessly. He never messed up, seemingly having ingrained every aspect of your new life into his mind.
Y/n, Mr.Y/n, Sir, he even called you handsome, you swear you nearly fell over when he did.
By midnight, you both were tired, and despite what he planned before, which was bringing you- if it was you, back to camp with him. But that plan never fell through, you ended up pulling him into the bathroom with you. You thought you'd be uncomfortable at first, but you figured if he was going to be back in your life you should get used to him seeing you naked again. But it wasn't, it was calm, comforting. You were thankful for your massive bath, the both of you fit well, you sat behind him, his hat tossed in on top of the heap of clothes you two had left, you ran your fingers through his hair, water from your hands running down his face. He hummed in contempt. He didn't speak much at first, simply enjoying you and your presence. It wasn't until the water had begun to cool and the cold air of the Nevada night started to seep in did he pressed himself closer to you, muttering something quietly.
It wasn't until you got out, long after the water cooled, we're you able to figure out what he was saying. You had some clothes you figured might fit Arthur, something you'd bought impulsively without actually checking to see if you could fit it.
“You have…nice arms-” he muttered.
You were pulling your pants up over your waist when he spoke, you turned to look at him, one hand holding your unbuttoned pants up, you asked, “Arthur, are you drunk?”
“No, no I'm just…real tired.”
“Didn't get much sleep?”
“I didn't sleep, I kept thinking of you.”
“When was the last time you slept?”
He groaned, “Tuesday, I was on watch Wednesday, I was pre occupied by your ass on Thursday, and now here we are.”
“Fucking Christ, go to sleep.”
“I want to look at you, I missed you-”
“I'll be here in the morning Arthur.”
He didn't respond for a long moment, you figured he dozed off finally, until you decided to switch shirts, shoving the one you had on into your drawer and pulling out another.
“You have a nice back too-”
“Good night, Arthur.”
Your night ended with you curling up around Arthur, your arms nearly wrapped completely around him. You didn't dream again tonight, your usual fantasies of seeing Arthur were deemed useless now and we're thrown out with the rest of today's mental trash.
#arthur morgan x male reader#arthur morgan x male!reader#red dead redemption 2 x male reader#red dead redemption 2 x male!reader#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 x male reader#rdr2 x male!reader#rdr2x male!reader#male!reader#male reader#x male reader#x male!reader#male y/n#x male y/n#arthur Morgan x male#✮ — z-boy
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Love You - Megumi
No sleep for the wicked. You know that sentence, don't you? Countless nights you spent tossing and turning and didn't know why.
Your evil, people like you deserve to rot in hell. There's no spot on earth for things like you.
The day you die will be the day people around the world will weep with joy. The heaven angels will sing their songs as you get casted down upon the layers of hell.
That special day is not close enough sadly. But you'll know. You'll hear the drums of death get closer and closer with each step you take.
Your mother will be filled with immense sorrow as the last thing your broken eyes take in is your father looking down at you with hate.
And as you black out the voices of everyone you hurt will haunt you as they pull and tear at your body and mind.
It'll feel like a thousand years till you finally get the relief you've been yearning for. Only for-
"Y/n!"
Feeling a shove as your eyes snapped open. The dark room welcomed you as the moon peeked through the curtains.
"You've been kicking my side for the longest. Told you if we're gonna do that I could've gotten you yer own bed."
You sat up looking at where the voice was coming from, seeing your brother rubbing his side.
The moon seemed to hit him perfectly, lighting up his face somewhat so you could see how irritated he was. His spiky hair was as stiff as ever.
Staring at him a smile creeps onto your face.
"Your such a baby 'Gumi. I don't even kick that hard." Rolling your eyes as his blue/greenish eyes looked at you in disbelief.
"You kick like a 50-year-old man y/n." "Nun uh! If anyone is a 50-year-old man it's you!" You snapped back.
"Especially with the way you walk. You walk like you have back issues." Megumi let out a quick playful "hm" before slamming a pillow into your face.
"Just go back to sleep." He said as he turned over on his side.
Snatching the pillow off of your face as you faced his back. You giggled as you climbed onto his side, "I'm not tired no more though!" You whined
You felt him sigh, his arm reaching over to the nightstand, grabbing the iPad from the charger.
"Here," tossing it in your hands before shrugging you off him. The cold white sheets welcoming you back into its embrace.
You lifted the iPad, the black screen casting a reflection of your face. A frown formed on your face as silence filled the air.
"Megumi?" You said as he hummed in response "When I die I wanna be buried far far away."
He said nothing as you turned your head towards him. He tensed up, "You hear me? And I want it to be somewhere tropical too! And instead of a grave site, you should-"
Megumi turned over in the bed, his lanky arms wrapping around you as he stared into your soul.
"What did I tell you about talking like that." He said sternly. "There's no need to be planning it out this early."
You could tell he was upset, " I mean-" "I mean nothing. Yer not gonna die anytime soon, not as long I'm here."
He pulled the blanket more on your side, making sure you were comfortable. "Now go to sleep." He grumbled as you snickered finally closing your eyes.
"I have those dreams ya know? They tell me about everything, and they sometimes scare me," you choked up trying to stop the tears from bubbling up.
"There's nothing I can do to stop it 'Gumi. I hear them get closer and closer every day. I just wanna be normal like you."
His thumb wiped your tears away, "it's not gonna happen y/n. Some dreams don't come true, and I promise this one won't. Everything will be okay."
A fleeting kiss pressed on your temple before he pulled you in closer rubbing your back, lulling you to sleep.
Minutes to hours would pass before Megumi would find himself dozing off once again.
He would be lying if he didn't have dreams of your death. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it you were already chosen.
Sighing, he pressed one more kiss to your temple, whispering three little words.
"I love you."
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annual writing self-evaluation
thank you @pipergirl17 and @erythromanc3r for tagging me!
1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):
oh gosh, I've been busy-busy this year with fanfic, so here goes!
Complete works:
... And a Hellcheer New Year
Galentines and Valentines
Hold Onto Me
Devil in the Woods
Every Time I Run, I Run to You
Eddie and Chrissy Go to a Wedding
Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs
Cooking Up Something Sweet
Please Don't Say You Love Me
Let Me Start Over Again
You Got Me Good
Be My Breath (Through the Deep, Deep Water)
This Old Man
Do You Wanna Touch Me
My Words Will Be Your Light
She'll See I'm Not So Tough
She Knows What She Wants
Give Me a Taste
The Right Kind of Sinner
Release My Inner Fantasy
Hooked on a Feeling
Whiskey & Wine
The Graveyard Smash
Long Is the Road Out of Hell
In a Sentimental Mood
Set My Soul On Fire
Burnin' Out of Control
WIPs:
Looking For Something Dumb To Do
I Can't Get Rid of You
If You Fall, I Will Catch You
2. Work you are most proud of (and why):
hmmmmm, that's a tough one! I love them all for different reasons, but I will say I'm very proud of Long Is the Road Out of Hell because it's my longest fanfic to date (almost 60k!) and at one point I really wasn't sure if I'd be able to finish it. but I did!
3. Work you are least proud of (and why):
tbh if I'm not proud of something, I won't publish it. but I think the work that frustrated me the most was Whiskey & Wine, my kinktober fic. I pushed myself too hard with too big of a goal and burnt myself out halfway through. but I did learn the importance of setting boundaries for myself (and why I need to be careful committing to challenges 😅)
4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:
not gonna lie, once I publish something, the words tend to leave my brain, so I don't always remember what I write lol. I should probably keep a doc of good lines from my fics so I have something to present when people ask me 😂 but here are two excerpts that I'm pretty proud of.
Devil in the Woods: He had loved her since the first time he opened his eyes to find her snuggled up on his chest. He had loved her longer, since the moment he’d held her in his arms on that endlessly rainy night. And longer still, he’d loved the little girl who played jacks with him on May Day and laughed at his wild antics.
Hooked on a Feeling: He knew he could be… a lot, as kinder people said. A goddamn nuisance, according to everyone else. He didn’t mean to be, he just tended to… latch on to things. Kind of like a bulldog (but in a nice and lovable way, thank you, Jeff). And right now he had ChrissyChrissyChrissy clamped tight between his jaws, and he hoped to god she didn’t ask him to let go.
5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:
I have a few regular commenters who give me the longest, loveliest comments where they literally analyze each chapter section by section 😭 it makes me feel so loved. but as for one individual comment, I distinctly remember a commenter from one of my early fics commenting on a really tough scene I did re: chrissy's eating disorder. they said that they also had an eating disorder, and that chapter was very healing for them. I don't think I'll ever get another comment as powerful as that.
6. A time when writing was really, really hard:
I go in and out of mild anxious/depressive episodes, mostly due to outside stressors, and that makes it really hard to write. writing is the one constant joy in my life, and when I don't even feel like doing that, I know something is very, very wrong. but luckily, they don't usually last too long!
7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:
mike's redemption arc in Long Is the Road! that one was a total curveball to me, and it only came about because it was the closest place I could think of to have Chrissy walk to after her mom kicked her out. total accident, but it spawned on of my favorite sibling-ships for chrissy that I've ever written!
also writing wayne's pov! i never intended to do that, but once I started, his voice just kind of stuck in my head 😂
8. How did you grow as a writer this year:
I wrote a lot. like over 300k of fanfic. and i even got back into writing some original fiction, which I'm so excited about!
I also started writing smut for the first time in 2023, which was something I never anticipated doing, let alone enjoying! but it's been super fun
9. How do you hope to grow next year:
I'd like to work more on my original fiction, maybe get a short story published. I'd also like to get better at world-building! I tend to get so focused on the characters that I forget they exist in a place I should spend some time creating lol
10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):
@slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction all the way! she's been such a wonderful beta reader, cheerleader, and overall positive influence on my writing. I Can't Get Rid of You wouldn't ever have happened without her support and feedback!
11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:
ooh, buddy! pieces of myself get sprinkled all over the damn place 😂 but as for specifics...
Galentines and Valentines opening scene was reminiscent of the girls' nights me and my college friends used to have (and still have sometimes)
Hooked on a Feeling had elements of my own past experiences of being laid up in a hospital (and being very annoyed about it)
This Old Man was absolutely inspired by my love of Columbo
You Got Me Good definitely included some of my own thoughts and feelings about when I get a little too high 😂
12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:
give your writing time.
it's so tempting when you have a new idea to jump on it and then get frustrated when it doesn't immediately turn out the way you want, but I've found that if I give myself time to think over a piece before I write it, and let it sit for a little while after I write it, I'm much happier with the end results!
13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:
finishing my three WIPs! and hopefully a little christmas fic 😂 I don't have anything else immediately in the works, thank god!
14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:
@1lostsoul0fishbowl @pearlypairings @rose-n-gunses and anybody else!!!
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For Étoile, Borgakh, and Meabh from ship questions redux!
PRE-RELATIONSHIP:
3. Who felt romantic feelings first?
7. How do their friends and family feel about them as a couple?
GENERAL:
9. Who gets jealous easier?
12. Do they hide anything from each other, big or small?
LOVE:
8. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?
14. Who is more protective? Who would get into a fight to defend the other? Who tends to the other's wounds?
DOMESTIC LIFE:
10. Who is more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the mornings?
13. Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?
Thank you for the ask! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) I'll stick to their longest lasting relationship for Étoile (Astarion) and Meabh (Enver), and I think for Borgakh I'll talk about a non bg3 version of her ... redesigning a d&d setting lover of hers for the nth time for this ask game, people might remember him as Ga'el, Iberis, or Aveillor (people more likely don't remember them at all). I'm calling him Iberis again.
This post is long as hell. If you open it and experience regret on desktop, you can press J to skip this post.
3. Who felt romantic feelings first?
Astarion. Étoile was fine with things remaining casual / with the presumption that things were temporary. It was Astarion who first falsely implied that he wanted something more with the whole confusion caused by Étoile and Wyll sharing a kiss; and then who truthfully, but indirectly, set his hopes after the Araj Oblodra situation.
Enver. Meabh was still going through feelings like "joy," "security" and "possession" for the first few years of their relationship before she hit on romance. It was perhaps their third time sleeping together that Enver realized that there was more than friendship and Meabh's curiosity fuelling his (arguably bad) decision to continue finding intimacy with the maniac (I think he didn't even know she was a bhaalspawn yet).
Borgakh. I think she has a really hard time saying it / communicating it, and I like to envision an italicized "Oh" moment for Iberis where he ("average height," maybe 5'07" / 170 cm) wakes up wrapped in Borgakh's ("huge," 7'03" / 221 cm) thick arms, and the weight (ha!) of her attachment makes his own immediately inescapable.
7. How do their friends and family feel about them as a couple?
Astarion's vampiric siblings largely come to love Étoile. Yousen and Violet take the longest to come around. With the exceptions of Leon and Violet, who are kind of uninvested in Étoile and Astarion's relationship, Astarion's siblings are more defensive of Étoile than Astarion when difficulties make their (Étoile and Astarion's) relationship feel more delicate. Petras makes a "pass" at Étoile during one of these early moments, and doesn't do this explicitly after Étoile is turned to a vampire, but Aurelia warns Astarion of Petras' ongoing questionable behaviour at that time. It isn't because Petras specifically disapproves of Étoile and Astarion's relationship, but he 1. is initially covetous of Étoile as the only permanent living being among the vampires and spawn in the Underdark in those early days and 2. is ultimately attracted to the power Étoile easily holds over the vampires and spawn.
Astarion's relationship to his living parents, Antoinelle and Rasileth, is forever strained, and I think they wouldn't understand various decisions he and Étoile make over the course of their acquaintance and the breadth of their history, and that part of that comes with Étoile and Astarion being unable to fully trust these extremely normal people with the full context of their lives. Antoinelle believe Étoile uses fair but ultimately deceitful and self-serving language, and that Astarion would ultimately have sought to repair his relationship to her and Rasileth more earnestly if not for them and the Spawn. Rasileth has less compunctions tied up in his gratitude that Astarion could yet live, and happily, and more easily expresses fondness over how Étoile and Astarion seem to defend one another and how this has affected his own life and Faerûn (at least in so far as the defeat of Cazador and the Absolute plot).
Étoile's living adoptive drow mother, Aranea, is far more accepting of Astarion than he ever expects, up to the brief nosedive their (Aranea and Astarion) relationship takes when she begs him not to Turn Étoile, but as she eventually has to forgive Étoile, she makes a point to let Astarion know that she will never apologize for her behaviour but that she forgives him too; and her continued approval is further reinforced by her willingness to act as priest for the sake of officiating their marriage. She's harsh and orderly, but attentive and fiercely loyal. Her uniquely generous approach in providing space and concerned / judgmental comfort clearly communicates her love, and in return for that Étoile and Astarion are more honest and patient with her than they are with most people.
Étoile and Astarion's friends who underwent their journey with the Absolute with them largely approve of their relationship. Wyll had his lingering regrets that are softened with time, and then forgotten as he enters a relationship with the pair of them (and his wife, my oc Zavorys), and Gale feels Étoile's betrayal (their decision to give the crown to Raphael) even after things between them are later repaired (during a shared adventure into Avernus) which sours his perception of any positive relationships Étoile holds for a long time.
Étoile's friends from before the nautiloid are very suspicious of Astarion, and are critical Étoile's decision to more-or-less spend 6+ months of any given year in the Underdark. I think these relationships improve as some of the Spawn seek (night) employment in Baldur's Gate and an impression of the vampires as people and not monsters starts to percolate.
Meabh's family is a mess, but I'll start by saying that idk where bg3 gets the lore to decide on Bane as Bhaal's sworn foe or w/e. They're barely even rivals, especially not without Myrkul in the same whisper. Their (Bhaal and Bane) aims support each other far more than they hinder, with enemies to their divinity usually coming in the form of older or good aligned deities. With this in mind, I headcanon that Bhaal likes Enver just fine for how he focuses Meabh's violence. I'm also a huge proponent for how Bhaal is the god of murder, and not the god of "killing." I have an outline / timeline for the progression of Meabh and Enver's relationship that is preceded by something I'd love to write her saying to Enver in a fic because I'm so bitter over this: "There's no rule that murders in Bhaal's name must be without intent. Assassination is just murder with extra steps. Killing is not murder." Anyway. It is not a good thing for Enver that Bhaal might enjoy him as Bane's Chosen and Meabh's muse.
Orin would rather have Enver "to dinner" than hear one more word from his lips. She feels Meabh would have more time for her (Meabh's) purpose and for her (Orin) if she wasn't distracted by the Banite.
Sarevok thinks Enver served his purpose once the Crown was secured, or even earlier when the plot was finalized — Ketheric too, but Ketheric isn't a bad influence or an interference in cult / family cohesion. He believes that there are plenty of laypersons and Bhaalists that would make for a better obsession for Meabh.
Enver's parents would hate Meabh if they knew she existed.
I haven't gotten to Act 3, but if Meabh has friends then they either don't care about Enver one way or the other (Ascended Astarion, for example), or actively dislike him for being predictable and bland in his ambition (Minthara and Shadowheart perhaps).
Borgakh's sister initially does not like Iberis, perceiving him as bringing out paranoia and selfishness in Borgakh. Years later, she is more forgiving of him as he and Borgakh repair what was between them.
Borgakh's friends like him, and have been supportive of them getting back together.
Iberis' "extended family" and friends think they make an odd pair, but they also think mostly everything about Iberis is odd, and are generally polite and caring.
9. Who gets jealous easier?
Étoile and Astarion are fairly matched in having low jealousy due to high trust, each having moments of insecurity fuelling spikes of jealousy that are gently assuaged.
Meabh has a bit of trouble taking other people seriously at all, and so it's Enver who is more jealous, and able to imagine that Meabh could find another to inspire her and comfort the venomous predator of her heart.
Borgakh is more easily jealous in little bursts. Being so short-lived when compared to an elf or a dragon, there's a lot of Iberis' past and future for her to compare herself to. But Iberis is more powerfully jealous, where if clear boundaries aren't communicated he would be prone to despair over a flirtation between Borgakh and another.
12. Do they hide anything from each other, big or small?
Étoile and Astarion don't really after Astarion's Araj-led confession. There are things that are harder for either of them to talk about, but I wouldn't count that as hiding things from one other. Astarion in particular, 1. likes gossip too much, 2. value's Étoile's opinion too highly, 3. is bad with secrets.
Enver has contingencies, plots and defenses that he does hide from Meabh, sometimes for her sake but often for his own, whether because of her unpredictability or Bhaal's wrath. He also has little personal indulgences, which probably range from cruelties against people trying to keep hope in their lives, to the location of his parents; things that he wouldn't expect Meabh to understand or that he wouldn't want to risk her taking from him in a bout of rage.
When Borgakh and Iberis' romance is young, Borgakh can tell that Iberis is hiding something — because he knows an elven queen on a first name basis, and there are other signs. Worried he may actually be married / be hiding his whole self (he is, but not in the way she thinks), she decides to suddenly leave when she discovers she's pregnant, not trusting the truth of it with him, and not wanting to be a footnote and embarrassment to an elven partner (she later miscarries). It isn't until 4+ years later that they're reunited in an adventure against a powerful necromancer that she discovers that he is a dragon, and feels obligated to confess why she left in the first place.
8. Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?
Astarion prefers verbal affection, whether that's declarations or smaller reassurances like plans made for the next tenday or offers of blood or inquiries as to the state of his clothing and equipment. Signs he's being thought of.
On a character sheet I previously put Étoile slap-dab in the middle of the scale. They enjoy affection, and will do their best to interpret and inquire after a partner's meaning.
Enver prefers physical affection, even his best trysts don't come with the familiarity that he and Meabh share.
Meabh prefers physical affection. I don't have a big reason for this.
Borgakh prefers physical affection. She has a hard time being vulnerable giving or receiving heart-felt words.
Iberis prefers verbal affection. He appreciates recognition and wooing.
14. Who is more protective? Who would get into a fight to defend the other? Who tends to the other's wounds?
Étoile is more protective, more likely to get into a fight to defend a partner / Astarion's reputation (I'd like to think they're both just as likely to involve themselves in a fight to defend the other physically) (Astarion would more likely be confused and judgmental than defensive of Étoile's reputation), and Étoile, ever the paladin, is more likely to tend to the other's wounds, though Astarion isn't without his moments.
Meabh is more protective (to the point that she has killed people she shouldn't have) and more likely to get into a fight to defend Enver's reputation. Enver is more likely to tend to Meabh's wounds, who is more prone to be wondrously distracted (or bitterly soured) by any non-fatal wounds either of them suffer at the hands of another.
Borgakh is more protective and more likely to tend Iberis' wounds. Iberis is more likely to be injured when not compelled to reveal his true form, and he is more likely to get into a fight to defend Borgakh's reputation.
10. Who is more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the mornings?
While morning is relative here, Astarion is more likely to convince Étoile to delay responsibilities for the sake of a cuddle.
Another "morning is relative" couple, Enver at least has his midnight prayers to attend to, if not illicit dealings that prefer the cover of darkness, and Meabh does their work on the twenty-four hour clock. Enver is more likely to be romanced by sleep, and to effortlessly seduce Meabh to a few more minutes of indulgence.
Iberis is more likely to attempt to convince Borgakh to come back to bed / the bedroll in the morning. He is rarely successful.
13. Do they have any "couple traditions", or family traditions?
Étoile and Astarion celebrate cultural holidays / milestones, like the new year, and the defeat of the netherbrain (and Auril's Day but I haven't decided how Étoile celebrates that). They probably wouldn't celebrate their birthdays if it weren't for the social expectation. Maybe it's tradition to spend the next 4-9 hours in trance or quiet activity (like reading) whenever they emerge from the Underdark to spend a few days in Baldur's Gate, but really that's just because they're creatures of habit and tired from the journey.
Enver must have his plans set out in stages or steps or milestones, and whenever one is met it's probably tradition to recreate something like his and Meabh's second date, with bourbon and cigars, and as his enterprises expand, perhaps a murder or two, to humor Bhaal and Meabh both, and so Enver can claim authority over people or territory to satisfy his own over-reaching tendencies and Bane's purpose.
Eventually, Iberis and Borgakh probably spend at least one dedicated night per month amongst his hoard. Iberis used to just go on his own for maintenance and security, and to add to it, but no matter how structured those behaviours felt before, it was a monumental show of dedication to share this part of himself with Borgakh. Additionally, at the change of seasons Iberis buys / commissions three new outfits for each himself and Borgakh.
#long post#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 spoilers#oc tag: étoile#oc tag: meabh#borgakh#oc tag: iberis#astarion
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sometimes I think about that study to test how long humans could be completely alone for and the longest someone lasted was 8 days, so thinking about that then keyleth spending what like 35 days not only completely alone but in 10x worse living condition then a test makes me feral and sad
Feral and sad is maybe the most accurate description of where Keyleth is at mentally rn
In more recent chapters, I think I really started to think through what it means to be by yourself for so long when you hate yourself as much as Keyleth does. As someone healing and working on my own self worth, it is hard being alone when you only trust the sense of worth you get from others. For Keyleth especially I think she’s someone who depends on her friends to understand herself, who fits herself into a role both in the world and in her party to judge herself. With everything stripped away, with the only goal to survive everyday, I feel like there would be equal parts freedom in that, to have such a simple metric by which to succeed and none of the expectations and judgements, but also a complete loss of self without external validation to gain any sense of identity.
(This will definitely be explored more in upcoming chapters, in case you couldn’t tell.)
And disclaimer: I’ve had such a joy writing this fic, it’s been incredibly therapeutic for me, but I think one big failing of mine is how I tend to approach canon divergence. For me, it’s always so exciting to work through a thought experiment of how themes and plots and character arcs would change because of a canon divergent event. I do think it means with this fic that I’ve been a little unequipped to explore just how much trauma Kiki has to work through. My poor girl has been through something incomprehensively difficult and, even as a writer, I struggle to imagine how she would be processing this.
I tend to respond to trauma by trying to create narratives around it, trying to find a lesson or a deeper meaning to carry forward with, so that’s what I think Keyleth has been doing in my fic. But this is an open invitation for anyone who has different conceptions of trauma responses to feel free to share their own interpretations of this idea.
Mostly I wrote this fic because I wanted to read it and in doing so, warped it’s raw conceptual potential with my own voice and perspectives. A part of me would write it again entirely different from a completely different angle and understanding. There’s so much I’ve discovered and thought of in retrospective about how she might react and recover (which I’ve been incorporating where I can).
All this to say, thank you for this ask! It really does help me put in perspective what this story is about and become obsessed with that raw concept again in the most feral and sad way.
#respond to an ask about this fic without a multi chapter essay challenge#immediate failure#my fics#asks#Kiki#keyleth
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7, 12, 17, 23, 29, 78
sorry i'm answering so late the adhd hit me hard yesterday!!!
Post a snippet from a wip.
Harry counts backwards from five, swallowing a bubble of air. Wrong move; his body rages against the pocket making its way down to his stomach, threatening to heave up all the contents that have yet to settle. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Everything is fine. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says evenly. “Is there a hospital in Brahms? We have to get you checked out, make sure that thing didn’t do any lasting damage.”
from my harry mason wip :) i have no idea where i'm going with it, but then again most of what i've written for silent hill has just been introspective
Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?
i outline some of them! there's a vague outline i'm working on right now for the next bloodborne fic i'm gonna write. i tend to write my outlines for fic similarly to how i wrote papers for school, but they're really just a guideline to give me an idea of what to write where. the most detailed outline i wrote was for honey & venom because i was trying to write the longest fic i could, so i really needed that guidance.
Do you have a writing routine?
not really! writing is one of those things i can do whenever, wherever. it doesn't always turn out good, but i like to try a variety of things throughout the day to try and get some writing done. maybe a routine would help me?
Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?
oh... i think maybe the middle is the easiest. that's when i tend to get into the flow of writing, without being as self-conscious about what i'm writing. it's the ending that's hardest for me, because i have the worst time determining how to end fics. i try to let them find a natural end, but it usually feels so lackluster to me.
What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?
i'm proud of the way i write characters in emotional distress. i've worked a lot on descriptions, trying to explain what it's like to be going through an episode or what have you, and i think i usually pull it off pretty well!
What motivates you during the writing process?
usually it's wanting to share what i've written with others, but i've been trying to change my reasons for writing so that i don't focus so much on the potential for getting attention. that hasn't been healthy for me. instead, i'm just trying to write for the joy of writing, and if others like it, then that's great!
thank u for the questions :)
fic writing asks~
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It's been almost 2 years now.
My heart was empty, lonely, and aching. I'd lost my last two daughters, their four legged, fluffy, chonky, cuddly selves, within a month of each other. I was broken inside and out, and had no direction. I spent the days following wandering the infinite forest of my lonely heart, hoping to find a place comfortable enough to lie down and rest, praying that when I did, I'd wake up and things would be better.
But until that day, I'd woken time after time after time alone, left to aimlessly walk further and further into the dark, mangled masses of trees and plants so dense that nothing could shine through to give me a sign I was going the right way. There was no right way. All places led to the same infinity of nothing.
Yet that day, I saw you. I'd gone to the shelter, and so many kittens happily came to the edge of their cages to greet me. Every one had a prospective adopter.
And yet behind a glass wall, in a cage, you slept. A fully grown cat. Lonely, depressed, and unwanted. Not a soul came to see you.
My heart told me to come forward and meet this mysterious, lonely man.
I had the shelter workers close the door, and they prepared themselves to pull you out against your will. But the moment your eyes caught sight of me, you came willingly and eagerly, and curiously sniffed me. You became entirely different. Playful, even. Your adorable, big self, nuzzled me and loved me. That's when I reached out fully.
"Oh! Don't do that. He doesn't like to be hel-"
You were melted into my arms in a hug as I held you and you purred gently. Content. You loved, and you were loved.
All the shelter workers' mouths dropped agape as their eyes fell in silence upon us both. They begged me to take you home, but it was already decided in my heart well before that. You were coming with me, and I would be yours forever.
You caused mayhem for a while, breaking wine glasses on the counters, knocking rocks off the window, and stealing chicken wings from unattended boxes on the table. You once bit a ton of hamburger rolls on the counter after chewing through the plastic to get to them, then left said rolls partially eaten and squished completely.
But your chaos was my light. It shone through the darkened forest in which I wandered, and drew me away until I stepped into the gorgeous field wherein you and I would roam freely and play from then on.
They named you Smokey. Your name was that of a grey, a mass of translucent silver which clouded the world and made things hard to see.
I named you Patron. A funny name, but a new identity nonetheless. One to clear away the smoke, and let you see the world for what it truly is.
You lived alone on the streets for 2 years after being abandoned by a family as a kitten when they chipped you and never bothered to register said chip. Your home was a top of the list horrible USA city where I grew up. I knew what sort of life you endured when I heard its name. But I knew, even more, I had to help you.
An elderly couple pitied you, knowing you were there at the shelter longest of all cats. You'd been to many events, and nobody ever wanted you. So this couple waived half your adoption fee. And I gladly forked over the other half to call myself yours.
I found you, yes, but you chose me. I was your ultimate pick, and the only choice you wanted to take. You could have done this for anyone at all, but you, Patron, saw me. And you thought I was perfect.
And nearly two years later, I hope I've proven myself perfect enough for you.
Thanks for purring your way into my heart, and never leaving. You're everything to me, and I love you. I hope you know that. You may be my son, yes, but most importantly, I am yours. I am your caretaker, I am your light, I am your love, joy, happiness, everything. And you make sure I know I belong to you.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
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Without You - Sadie Sink
Takes place after the filming of Stranger Things Season 3
Exhausted.
Sadie is exhausted from all her sleepless nights. The sleep she longs for, no longer around, not since you left. She misses your presence, your hugs, your delicate words, your gentle touches. She just wants to be in your arms relishing in your radiant warmth, feeling your loving kisses to the back of her head.
She just wishes you had told her how you were feeling before that fateful day happened.
Splashes of water coat her face, trying to wake herself up, and cleanse her mind of you so she is prepared for her first interview since you left. Sadie shuts the water off, her hands now firmly on the sink. Her gaze locks with her reflection. Her once smooth skin, disturbed with protruding deep purple bags under her broken teal eyes. Her lips automatically dropping into a deep miserable frown, she finds no need for her mouth to break away from that position for it was practically engraved into her skin.
But soon she will have to tear it out and upturn the frown in a mask of joy and perfection. She doesn't want to do that, she just wants to go home and cry into one of your hoodies and not come out for days on end or until filming starts up again.
She should be strong, but without you there it feels like her whole world is slowly falling apart, and just a gentle push can send it tumbling down. You were her rock, her saviour, her superhero that fends off all the bad guys for her.
But now that you're gone, she has to do that all alone.
An interview without you at her side feels so daunting, she won't be able to clutch onto your hands when she feels a slight bit of nerves. She won't be able to rely on you to get through the merciless questions that will only be worse, now that you're gone.
"Sades?" A soft voice calls from behind the bathroom door. Sadie quickly stands up straight and regains her composure just as the door opens to reveal Millie. "Oh Sades," The Fifteen-year-old says sympathetically opening her arms for the redhead.
Sadie instantly buries herself into the younger girl. "I miss her." She mutters into Millie's shoulder.
"I miss her too."
Millie tightens the hug and she stands there holding Sadie with all her might, afraid that if she were to let go the older girl will break down and shatter right in front of her. But she could feel Sadie begin to sob and heave in her arms. "It's okay," Millie hushes the girl, her one hand rubbing Sadie's back delicately.
After a few more minutes Sadie tears away brushing away her running tears, "I got given the camera she would do her diary entries on. Could we maybe watch it later, at my house with the boys?"
Millie nods, "We would love to do that. Now come Sades, we have to go, it's going to start soon."
The interview was the longest two hours of Sadie's life, she wanted to hide away from all the questions and sympathetic looks she had been given throughout. Noah had noticed her discomfort and had his hand placed on hers comforting the hurting redhead all throughout. The rest of the cast had helped with the questions she had found quite hard to answer, the one's involving you, and how she was feeling since your passing.
But now she sits in her living room cuddled into Millie, with your stuffed dog, watching as the boys try to hook up your old camera, all arguing as they figure out what cable goes where. This earns a small smile from Sadie.
Soon the boys get the camera working and instantly your bright cheery face pops up on the TV. Sadie sits up a little straighter at the sight of you, her heart both racing and aching at the same time. Millie pulls the girl closer to her, in a way of further comforting her but also to make room for Caleb who wanted to sit next to the pair while the others sat on the ground in front of the couch.
"Hello!" Your voice exclaims through the speakers. "Welcome to Diary Entry One! I am as you can see on the set of Stranger Things Season Two!" The camera flicks around showing the bustling set before flicking back around.
The cast knew exactly when this first took place, the first day of filming just after they had all met Sadie.
"We got a new girl here as well, her name is Sadie Sink." You gush into the camera, a pink hue evident on your cheeks. "She's really nice... and pretty." You murmur the last part looking off to the side. "Anyways! Let's go see her!" You quickly rush off to where you had been looking at, camera in tow and stop at a then fifteen-year-old Sadie, "Hello bloody tampon, say hi to the camera!"
Everyone laughs, including Sadie who remembers that exact moment.
"What did you just call me?" Sadie questions in disbelief and You laugh, "You heard me." Before Sadie could say anything else, you quickly leave and shut the camera off.
"Hello!" You shout with Finn alongside you, "This is, drum roll please Wolf boy," Finn drums his hands on his lap, "Diary Entry Two!" You and Finn cheer loudly capturing the attention of some of the crew members behind you. They immediately hush you both as they film a scene involving Sadie and Caleb. You and Finn quietly apologise before making your way over to Dacre who speaks with Natalia and Joe.
"Dacre!" Finn calls out causing the man to stop and turn to them, a bright smile on his face.
"Hello Lacey, Mike. What can I do for you?"
"Can you answer some-" Finn begins but you cut him off abruptly
"Is Sadie single?"
Finn turns to you and the camera wide-eyed. Dacre raises a brow, throwing a quick glance over to Natalia and Joe. "I don't know? Why, are you interested?"
Your voice sounds panicked from behind the camera, "No! I mean, Finn is."
"Y/n!" Finn shouts, "I don't!" He quickly grabs the camera from your grip and turns it to face a laughing you before cutting the feed.
"Oh, so that's how that rumour sprouted. You look so scared," Sadie giggles and Finn sends her a mocking glare.
"I didn't know she was going to say that okay?" He chuckles.
The next video rolls on and it shows both Sadie and you.
You set the camera down in front of Sadie who was busy getting her hair done. She eyes the camera cautiously as the stylist ducks out the way slightly. "This is Diary Entry number three... I think," You sit down on a chair next to her, your stylist moving in to prep your hair. "We are almost finished filming!" You smile and look over to Sadie who does a quick glance at you. "Anyways, it's time."
"Time for what?" Sadie quiers
"Time for the questions silly," You laugh tilting your head back as your stylist combs your hair. "First question, how has your time on set been?"
"It's been great! Everyone is amazing!"
"Everyone? You sure you don't mean just me?"
Sadie giggles, "Sure."
A few more questions were asked, them mainly being about how she has felt about her time acting and being forced in a room with you and the others. She had opened up slightly about how she felt kind of isolated in the beginning due to everyone already knowing each other until You and Millie kindly took her under your wing.
"Okay last question, do you have eyes for anyone?" You smirk and Sadie goes silent.
"No comment," You gasp.
"What! Sadelyn Sinkhole does have eyes on someone," You lean forward much to your stylests dismay as she pulls you back. "Who is it?"
Once again Sadie replies, "No comment." and you huff.
"I will get it out of you. It may not be today, but it will happen someday."
Sadie's cheeks turn pink and she can't help but hide her smile in your stuffed teddy, reminiscing about how she had ended up spilling her feelings to you not even a day later. To her surprise back then you had reciprocated her feelings and even managed to steal her first kiss, she doing the same to you.
The next video rolls on with you beaming once again in the camera.
"Hello!" You exclaim once again, in the background was the cast in their season two attire watching you with smiles. "This is Diary Entry number four, we have now finished the infamous season two!" The group breaks out into cheers and a round of applause, and you place the camera down on a stand so that everyone was in the frame and move back to go sit next to Sadie, pushing Finn out of the way in the process.
"I can't believe you couldn't tell she liked you!" Finn exclaims gesturing to the action you had pulled. "Your girlfriend literally pushed me out of my seat," He laughs making Sadie snigger.
"So Caleb Mclaughlin." You start, capturing the young boy's attention, "How was it like to kiss the gorgeous Max Mayfield, the infamous MadMax," You tease and the boy bows his head in embarrassment, Everyone laughs and so do you but it was cut short as you began to cough. "You okay Y/n?" Sadie questions and you nod while Sadie not so sneakily brings her hand into yours.
"Wait!" Millie jumps in disbelief her eyes trained at the holding hands, "Were you two a couple then?" She flickers her gaze over to Sadie who turns as red as her hair, "Oh my God! We thought you two got together just before Season Three." Millie smiles slapping Sadie's leg jokingly, "You dirty dogs!"
The entry's continue, this time mostly showing you and Sadie alone. Most of the time, your hands were wrapped around her waist while she holds the camera up at you two in various locations.
"First date!" Sadie exclaims looking lovingly over at you.
*
"Can you see me?" You question trying to look over into the camera to see if you were in the frame- you in fact were not.
* "Sades!" You call out for her from her living room. "I got you something!" The camera flicks down to a necklace with a small pendant in your hand.
While that video shows, Sadie herself glances down at the necklace you had given her and fiddles with it, her heart fluttering in her chest.
*
"Do you think they'll freak out when we tell them?" Sadie questions fiddling with your hand as the camera shows you both walking back onto the set for a reading. You nod, "Oh, most definitely." The camera cuts and then turns back onto an unknowing Millie waiting for you both at the entrance to the reading.
"Y/n! Sadie!- Woah." Millie's eyes go wide as she spots your hands, "Are you two?" She gestures between the both of you. Sadie confirms with a kiss of your cheek causing her to squeal and run in to tell everyone.
* "Hello! And we're back! Season Three of Stranger Things, it's your favourite character Aunt Helga speaking." You laugh at your own words, "I'm joking, it's the best character out of the show, Dustins' sister Lacey. Today we are as usual on our first day back at filming." You cheer, "This is Diary Entry number five."
"Y/n! Where are you?" Dacre calls out in the background, "You have to go get pepper-sprayed in the face!" You widen your eyes slightly, and Dacre appears behind you, "It's just water don't worry."
The camera cuts but then is turned back on to show a smiling Dacre, he flips the camera around and it shows you being dunked in the Henderson's kitchen sink by Caleb and Sadie. "I'm drowning!" You yell out gasping for breaths. "I'd rather you drown than go blind, Lacey," Sadie comments in Max's character. Caleb goes to turn off the tap but instead accidentally turns it on full speed, the water hitting you right in the mouth making you choke and develop a coughing fit. "I didn't mean to literally drown her!" Sadie yells and Caleb throws his hand up defensively, "My hands slipped."
That scene was a blooper itself but yet it was still kept in the actual show.
Many more diary entries ended up being full of bloopers, you hanging with Sadie and sometimes the rest of the crew until it started to change.
There you stand in front of the camera, your hands clutching your chest tightly, "My chest hurts." You croak out, tears swelling in your eyes from the pain.
The cast visibly sit a little straighter at the sight of you.
You stand there for a few more seconds just holding onto your chest before finally you drop your hands down and stand straighter. You furrow your brows, "It's gone. I don't know what it is but it's been happening a lot lately." You announce but quickly shrug it off as you hear your name being called. You grab onto the camera and run out where Sadie is standing waiting for you with a bright white smile. You grab onto your girlfriend's hand and you walk off to your next scene.
Another video rolls on this time showing you setting the camera down in a position so that it showed the set you were on. You are then seen dashing back onto set and getting onto your starting position with Gaten at your side. The video goes on as normal with the familiar star court scene and then all the way to the end, with Dacre having moved it for you to get the right angles where you stand near a casted officer, signalling the end of the filming process.
"Cut," The director yells and cheers are heard all around. You jump up and hug the nearest person to you, this being Sadie and enrapturing her into a joyful kiss before moving on to everyone else.
The mood is noticeably ecstatic and everyone is busy cleaning up, with you having a quick word with Sadie before going to head for your still recording camera, shouting a 'Shut up' to Caleb who had mocked what you said to your girlfriend. Your smile is bright and inviting until it drops to a stone cold expression.
And then you were seen clutching onto your chest, feet staggering and skin paling before dropping to the floor.
"Y/n!" Gaten screams hurtling over to you, just in time to catch you. You weren't moving and the camera shows it, it shows everything happening at that exact moment. It shows Gatens terrified face as he shakes you, trying to wake you up. It shows crew members flying over to you in a hurry. It shows your girlfriend and the others staring at you horrified and worried.
"Someone call an ambulance!" The director yells shoving past all crew members who were just crowded around you. Immediately chest compressions were started.
"Oh God," Caleb murmurs his teary eyes entranced on the TV. He wants to look away but he can't.
Sadie sniffles, her heart aching tremendously at the screen.
Millie and Finn hold a sobbing Sadie in the far corner of the screen, while Noah is seen dashing for the camera and turning it off.
They thought it was the end but another clip rolls and a bloodshot eyed Sadie Sink appears in one of your hoodies, holding your stuffed dog close to her chest. She was in your dressing room, it was known by the pictures you had placed on the walls of your family and the cast behind Sadie.
"Hi Y/n," Sadie croaks out, voice breaking instantly. She can't speak, her throat hurts and her tears just flow out coating your stuffed animal with her tears. "I miss you. It's only been a few hours since you left us, but I miss you so much." She brings your hoodie to wipe away a few of her tears, "I just want to say I love you."
Sadie can't look at the video anymore, her heart aching in great amounts in her chest, her bottom lip quivering noticeably. She turns and shoves her head directly into a saddened Millie who immediately takes her into her arms. Sadie wishes it was you instead.
She can still hear her own shattering voice in the video, each word breaking and every sentence ending with a cry. A cry of mourning. A cry for you. A cry for you to just come back and tell her you're not going anywhere. A cry for her broken heart.
Sobs wrack Sadie's body and a loud cry exits her making the crying cast members cast looks of sorrow, heartbreak and pain at her.
The video proceeds and Sadie is now still sat in your chair, this time not saying anything. Your stuff dog is latched to her chest, her chin sitting on top of the toy while she runs little patterns on her knee- something you would do to her when you felt nervous in interviews or big events. And then the door quietly opens and Sadie is seen turning back abruptly, her head shaking furiously.
"No, no, no, no," She sobs as your dad steps foot into the trailer there to retrieve your stuff. "Please can I keep the camera, please!" Your dad shakes his head sadly, tears in his own eyes as he reaches down to grab hold of the device.
"Please!" Sadie begs, "I can't live without her. I can't live without seeing her!"
The camera cuts off.
***
Masterlist; celebrities
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Moments of Despair #2 [Genshin Impact/Albedo x Reader]
Synopsis: "The alchemist who relished in his gifts only to fall from grace."
(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).
Diluc’s despair
Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death and psychological horror (correct me if otherwise)
(A/n): I decided to take a slightly different approach this time. Regardless, it’s still killing my heart TwT.
---------------------------------------------------
Out of the many wonders of Teyvat, one thing Albedo loved most was how you were so different from him.
Difference ties to the unknown, one that must be discovered. He was drawn to you the first time he had laid his eyes upon your form standing at the heights of Mondstadt's cathedral. The Sisters scolded you from below, but all you did was reply with a wink amidst their chaos before soaring into the skies and letting the wind carry your glider. Reckless they said. For him, your recklessness was intriguing.
As the sun's light blinded his vision, everything he saw seemed like a glass barrier. For the ground was where he thrived and chalk was his core, it became the basis of Albedo's very existence. Even the geo Archon granted him a Vision of the same element to affirm his identity. The earth will forever be attached to his feet as he will keep on his stride until every last truth of Teyvat have all been realized. You, on the other hand, hailed from a place where he couldn't quite reach. What lies beyond this glass ceiling? Albedo found himself gradually holding onto a string of curiosities, a string he could touch but was not able to feel.
'Interesting,' he thought quietly, while the breeze slip between the fingers of his outstretched hand.
He was a character of logic, possessing sharp eyes that could pierce through the depths of the most complex formulas and a mind to predict their outcomes- as long as alchemy was still related. All impossibilities thrown in his way only paved a path for him to become the well known genius he was now. Whether it was alchemy or investigations with the Knights of Favonius, Albedo never failed to deliver the answers. But despite it all, he always found himself endlessly contemplating over things that were considered intangible. He wonders why you smile when there was nothing to laugh about. How could you tell between the complexities of the human heart? Albedo can't seem to put a finger on it.
'Why? What drives you? What are you thinking?'
The Chief Alchemist couldn't resist being fascinated by your unpredictability. It reels him in similar to a fish being baited out of the waters. However, unlike those creatures, Albedo only tightened his grip on the strings as if they were a lifeline, determined to find out what they truly felt like to the touch.
"I can't really say it's much of an answer," you hummed, clasping both hands behind your back before declaring with a grin, "To put it simply, you just gotta follow your heart."
'Follow your heart...' What does it mean to follow your heart?
"I'm afraid I still don't understand," he replied in a thoughtful manner. The statement never really resonated with him and it certainly weren't the words his Master taught when he was in the early stages of being created, "But it does suit you very much."
"Really? But still bring your head with you," a playful laugh escapes and you add while pointing a finger, "At least, it's what everyone tells me these days."
"Hm," Albedo then affirms with a nod, "I can definitely see why they would tell you that."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
The days go by and his repetitious march towards the truth remains the same. However, there was never a dull moment when you were at his side. Perhaps that was the reason why Albedo became so attracted to your aura. The way you'd follow around his experiments, eyes so full of enthusiasm at every step of the activity. Sometimes the events can get a little too out of hand in which he needs to step in and save you from getting stuck in slime condensates...constantly. Albedo grew fond of your childlike excitement even when you weren't entirely sure what was going on. He normally distanced himself from socializing as it never sparked his interest. Frankly, he was too much of a genius for mundane conversations. Your presence was rather refreshing in this case. You were an oddball, just like him, and for once the alchemist felt like he didn't need to place that glass barrier between the two worlds.
"You seem to be in a very good mood today Mister Albedo."
He was a man of subtle expressions yet anyone could notice the small gleam in his eyes whenever he saw you walking in the hallway. Sucrose often remarked with a giggle after she noticed her teacher holding his documents upside down. But who could blame him? Joy, fun, laughter. He was able to experience those emotions all because of you; his beloved. You were the colour to his canvas and the meaning to his flower. You were a force of nature. Like a warm breeze gracing upon the terrestrial lands, you move him.
Thump- thump- thump-
Strings around his world began to weave one whole picture while they also tugged inside his chest. God had finally blown the breath of life into mankind's body, it was only a matter of time before Albedo came to follow his heart too.
--------
"Alright, just one more detail aaaaand done!"
You gave a small tap using the tip of your pencil and leaned back to examine your artwork.
Masterpiece!
On days when Katheryne had no commissions assigned to the guild, Albedo would accompany you to the Whispering Woods and conduct his sketches there instead. He was aware of the discomfort Dragonspine brought as the temperature wasn't ideal for anyone except for him. You eventually learned that your lover was not only intelligently different from the rest but physically too. Albedo, aside from the Cavalry Captain, was mysterious in his own way. He was hard to read yet never came off as intimidating, no one knew of his origins nor they knew how he came to Mondstadt. You wondered why someone like him would have wanted to get involved with your shenanigans. Rosaria often gave warnings regarding the alchemist's 'hidden intentions' in which you'd roll your eyes in response. The Albedo you knew was far from that. He was a big brother to Klee, a man passionate about his work, he was the one golden star among the many silvers in your sky. He was your lover.
My Albedo.
Brushing a hand upon the drawing you made of him, you glided down the lines of his cheek before resting your finger on the mark by his neck. You gazed at it with fondness. Truly a masterpiece indeed.
"You do realize I'm still here?"
The paper nearly flies out of your grasp and you snatched it back to your chest, "HUH A-ALBEDO, WHEN DID YOU APPEAR???"
"I was with you the whole time," he states. The corner of his lip tug upward ever so slightly, "You said you wanted to sketch me."
"A-Ahahaha, so I did," you reply while scratching your head bashfully. 'I thought I was looking at a sculpture!!' You rushed to cover your face with the sheet. It wasn't that you forgot he was there, rather, you forgot he was still a living and breathing specimen who just witnessed your little serenade. As Lisa had once said, Albedo was easy on the eyes. His graceful features made him seem almost like an oil painting that could only be found in halls of the most prestigious households. You made sure to capture everything, every detail, every curve just like he had done with your portraits. Only now you noticed the sun already began its descent below the lakeside, dusting the landscape with hints of bright orange as it marked the day's end. If only time could slow down. But duty calls upon your next journey and there was no telling when you'd return. At the very least, a simple portrait would suffice to fill in the temporary gap of his absence.
"Can I see it?"
You glanced his direction while keeping the drawing close to your nose, "Are you sure about that? It might not be up to your expectations."
"I'm sure," Albedo affirms with a straight countenance, "I can already tell you've put a great amount of effort, otherwise you wouldn't have taken this long."
"Yeeaahh I kinda lost track of time. I guess it's only fair that you get to see the finished product," you say and shoved the drawing in front of him, "Tada! I present to you, my masterpiece!"
Albedo takes it out of your grasp and you watched the way his eyes expanded upon sight.
"Well? Whaddya think?"
Words could not describe the mixture of emotions that erupted within him. Was it distinguishable or abstract? Albedo spent his time pondering between the two answers as he examined the drawing closely. Despite the lines being slightly jagged and the unevenness in the placement of his eyes, he managed to make the shape of the entire image you were trying to convey. Perhaps it was all thanks to his well trained artistic vision which gave him the ability to do so. Or maybe he was simply biased. But there wasn't a shred of doubt that this was indeed your craftsmanship.
"You even added flowers in the background," he pointed out with amusement.
"It's the thing you make when using your elemental burst, I couldn't fit your hand in the picture so I decided to put it somewhere empty," you informed, "Out of everything, that one took me the longest."
"And the rabbits?"
"They resemble Klee's bombs!"
He lets out a chuckle, "I see."
Albedo kept his attention downward until he was mindlessly staring at the paper in hand. This was a memory made to be carried as you moved on to your next journey and it saddens him that he could not accompany you. If only time slowed down. Albedo wanted to hold onto the memory forever, because he knew once he gave it back, he wouldn't be able to see you for an uncertain amount of time.
"Do you really have to go?"
His voice was barely above a whisper. Guilt crept into your heart and you gingerly layed your fingers on his gloved ones, bringing down the paper that blocked his face. A pair of teal orbs held a reflection of your image as the sun's rays casted from the side. You returned it with a reassuring grin, hoping to soothe his worries somehow, "I just need to pay a visit to my father since he's been very sick lately. I'll be fine, so don't worry too much okay?"
Albedo turns over his palm and gave your hand a squeeze, "How long will it take?"
"I'm not sure but it will be a while. Snezhnaya is pretty far so..." you trailed off, "But my time in Mondstadt, with Klee and with you, I will never forget! I won't even if I tried."
When you were met with no answer, a breeze came in to fill the melancholic silence. He too will not forget and he would ensure that it was the same for you. Slowly, Albedo brought your hand up, past the center of his heart all the way to cupping his cheek. He allowed himself to indulge in your warmth, tangling the strands of his hair with your fingers while closing his eyes. Sweet flowers. You always carried the smell of sweet flowers.
"Albedo?" You gawked, "What's the matter?"
"...There are certain aspects where drawings can't imitate," he says, grip tightening ever so slightly, "How I feel against your skin, the shape of my jaw, your warmth radiating with my own. These are the things I want you to remember."
Breath leaves your slightly parted mouth. It was unfair how straightforward Albedo could be when showing his affection. Doing as he pleases without anyone's approval to the point it would even catch you off guard since he often absorbed himself in the arts of alchemy. But during times when Albedo did choose to express his feelings, you knew they came from a place of pure genuinity. The thought made it hard for you to tear away from him, "Did you ever find out what the strings felt like then?"
Albedo returns his gaze, long golden lashes hovering them as he smiles softly, "...I have."
As he began to reveal his stories, the dusk sky continued to flare across the landscape with colours of passion. Red, it was the thread that had led him to you, the same string that weaved him together as a whole. Albedo lays a kiss atop of your pinky, there was a reason why Mondstadtians called him the Chalk Prince. You didn't know the intention behind his sudden affection but he knew. It was a promise, one to ensure that the thread would also have you return safely back into his arms.
Oh how he hated the colour red.
"Al...bedo..."
With speed he never knew he had, Albedo scoops you into his embrace and held you close. How did everything happen so fast? He curses his mind as it proceeds to scan your injuries, drawing a conclusion where he wished to be wrong for once:
You were beyond help.
"Ah..haha..." you managed to laugh through bitter tears, "You don't have to say it. I know."
His breath hitches, trying to make sense of the feeling that was slowly tearing him apart from the inside. It's not real. Of course it wasn't, it couldn't be. What other possible answer was there to explain the numbness stinging his fingers? The reason for his shaking? Everything felt so cold. Your body hardly registered to his to touch, you were losing so much blood. You were losing. He was going to lose you.
"No," Albedo shakes his head, "We still have time. I'll go find help."
Please, hold on.
He forced himself to think. The ruin hunter ran off shortly after it had ambushed you, by now the Knights would eventually noticed and apprehended it on sight. They couldn't be too far. All he needed was to carry you back to safety and everyone can go home. Albedo darted his eyes all over the place, breaths becoming shallower with each passing second. Where? Where to go? Which route was best to not overexert your wounds? Think. Think. Think. Why couldn't he think?
"A..." You watched him in your helpless state. Every part of you throbbed with pain but it pains you even more to see the renowned genius who stood atop the pedestal of elegance and grace so utterly, undoubtedly lost. This was not the goodbye you wanted, though death already had you tight in their grasps. Not yet. Using the last particle of your strength, you tried to stay alive as long as possible. Just a little bit more time.
Albedo freezes when a trembling hand extends itself to cup around his cheek. Every single thought he had in mind vanished and was replaced by a loud ring resonating in his ears. Dreadfully, mechanically, he turns his attention to where you lay.
"Don't cry," you whisper, "I love you, don't cry- okay?"
Albedo grimaces, shutting his eyes closed as he allows the pent up sadness to flow out of him completely, "I can't," he said in a shaky voice, "Please. Stay."
"I'm sorry," Your vision blurs and he hugs you even more. Drawing your final breath, you relay your most cherished words through a broken smile, "But no matter w-where I go...I won't for..ge.."
The moment your hand fell, Albedo finally understood the difference between death and loss.
It was...suffocating. Having the air trapped in his throat, begging to release yet it hurts to speak. The never ending stabs that pulsed within his veins rushed forth like the scraping blizzard of Dragonspine until his whole body lost all its senses. The world was shattering. He could no longer feel your weight. He could no longer feel.
(Y/n).
Albedo glances at his blood stained fingers where the thread had been severed, wide eyes drowning in sorrow. What a horrible feeling. Was this a warning sent by the gods? For stepping into the boundaries of knowing too much? Ah the curse of knowledge man must bear when eating the temptatious fruit. It was the result of choosing to love you. With life, death is inevitable and with love, it will eventually bring pain. Everything had a price to pay and as an alchemist, Albedo knew that better than anyone.
"...Meaningless..."
But he refused to accept it.
Cradling your corpse, he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead, lips quivering as they lingered for a second too long before gathering the strength to stand back on his feet. Nothing will stop the alchemist from reuniting with you. If the laws wished to take you away from him then he will use everything in his power to fight against those laws.
"This is not goodbye..." Albedo said to the sleeping girl, "And it will never be."
When the sun sinks below the plains and the stars lose their light, the sky had been replaced with a palette of darkness. It was time to go home.
------
"Have you all heard about the rumours?"
A group of knights gather in the corner as they whisper about. Sucrose stops on her tracks and hides behind a wall, clutching the book close to her chest in an attempt to stay hidden.
"Another criminal disappeared from the dungeons? Crazy..."
"More like creepy. I was told that place might be haunted by some dead prisoner's ghost. Even the Church is hopping onto this case."
"Well I hope it doesn't get any worse. So many of us started going on night patrols..."
Their voices faded out of range as the anemo user backtracks her steps carefully. Several months passed since the news of mysterious kidnappings have been announced to the public. Rumours of their whereabouts swirled around the city and much to her discomfort, Sucrose happened to catch every single one of them. There couldn't possibly be evil spirits lurking in the Favonious Headquarters right? She silently shrieks at the thought, shaking her head furiously to stop her mind from going too deep. No, I have to find him. Without wasting another minute, the anemo user sprinted towards the stairs all the way up to the second floor before stopping directly in front of her teacher's office. Despite the adrenaline that occured at the same time, she made sure to knock.
No answer.
"Strange, he told me he would be here today..." Sucrose muttered to herself. But suddenly she heard the sound of objects shifting from the otherside, signaling that there was indeed someone occupying the room. Without realizing, she held her breath out of anticipation.
"Come in."
The door creaks as she opens them, giving her enough space to slip between the gap, "Mister Albedo?"
"You're early today," The Chief Alchemist noted from his desk, "Is there something the matter?"
"Y-You mean you don't know? There was just another case about a person disappearing from the dungeons," Her tone became more frantic as she rambled to herself, "The kidnapper never leaves a trace and no one knows how they were able to get out. Even when we ask the guards what happened, they can't seem to remember as if...as if someone casted a spell on them!"
"A spell?" He inquires, "I suppose that could be a possibility."
"I think so too. I-It's the only explanation that makes sense! I mean...ghosts don't exist after all," Sucrose nervously looks down at her shoes while giving her book a squeeze, "But why? Who could be capable of such advanced techniques? No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to understand their intentions."
"...Yes. It is a very strange occurrence indeed."
Noticing her teacher's withdrawn attitude, Sucrose couldn't help but feel flustered at her own behaviour, "Ah my apologies Mister Albedo, I didn't mean to go off track. Have there been any progress on the investigations so far?"
Albedo briefly glanced at the various documents splayed across his table. His reputation as an incredibly intelligent individual had reached far and wide through Mondstadt. This led to the authorities requesting his assistance regarding the recent matters, despite him specializing in the alchemical field, he was also the Captain of their Investigation Team. Although, Albedo detested partaking in things he deemed irrelevant to his research;
"I'm afraid I would need more evidence to draw a conclusion."
"Eh? You still need more?"
He could not deny that the given authoritative position had provided much benefits to his own accord.
"My expertise lies in the subject of alchemy," Albedo reasoned and proceeds to intertwine his fingers in front of his mouth, "Humans on the other hand, are very unpredictable in nature. Even the essence of their existence is hard to obtain."
"Essence of their existence?" Sucrose repeated softly. She wanted to ask what he meant but the blank expression was evident enough to signal his impatience. At least, that was what she thought, "Nevermind! I have something that might help," taking out a slip from her textbook, she handed it to him, "It's the report Captain Kaeya gave me. He said that the culprit might be a traitor coming from the Knights of Favonius."
He narrows his eyes.
"I-I think he might be right! Just think about it, we haven't found anything at all for the past few months but when we do, I sometimes feel like we're just running in circles...oh what if it's becau-"
"Sucrose."
"Y-Yes?!"
Albedo calmly looks at the flustered girl, not realizing how sharp his tone was, "You're overthinking again. Perhaps it's best that you take this day off."
"But I came here to help," she insisted, "I know it hurts to lose someone you love! Don't you understand that we're all worried about you? And Klee, she..."
"..."
"Please Mister Albedo, if there's anything I could do-"
"No need," he cuts her off once again, "Your stress levels are too high. We can't go any further if you continue to act like this."
"Oh," her ruby eyes casted to the side, "I understand..."
"Good. Now, if you would excuse me," Albedo bid her farewell and watched as the door clicked behind her, observing every detail until he was sure that the absolute silence had returned. He picks up Kaeya's document. Such remarkable handwriting. But of course, appearances are only meant to be displayed on the surface for the Captain was a sly man, wearing a mask to shield what lies underneath. Just like his letter, they were full of innuendos and condensed meanings, orchestrated together until the truth spoke loudly to Albedo himself.
"So, that's what he thinks."
Perhaps the alchemist should have been a little more discreet.
--------
There was a certain place in Dragonspine that no one dared to enter. But those who have, they never return.
"Hm, no response. Now as for the next step..."
And he was the reason why.
Taking the sword out of the transmutation circle, Albedo turned to the snowy hill nearby and activated his alchemy. A small portion of it dissipates, revealing a trench that went so deep underground that even warmth couldn't outplay the sheer cold. It was the perfect hiding place for the evidence to lay out of sight and an environment where only he could handle. The alchemist tossed the leftover along with the others before exiting quietly, summoning back the ice to bury his victims once again. Another day, another experiment, another stain goes to his title. The path he walked upon was one littered with corpses and the sins he committed. But despite the bones crunching beneath his feet and the weight of the dead hanging on his shoulders, the alchemist was numb to it all. Like an entity floating in space with nothing to hold, he became unable to feel.
"I'm back," When reaching the center of Starglow Cavern, Albedo puts his hand on the icicle and caressed it's hard cold surface, "Did you sleep well?"
The girl did not respond. Her eyes were closed and her skin was as young as ever. She was frozen in time.
"You must have."
Albedo felt the sword beginning to shake in his grasp as it resonated with his energy. Dust particles emitted from the hilt and slowly made their climb to the side of his arm. Still, Albedo's attention did not waver, "To this day, I've been thinking about what you told me the first time we met."
"..."
"Follow your heart. I couldn't understand it at first but after being around your presence, I believe I can finally recognize what that term means."
He closes his eyes as he envisioned your lively form running across the landscape. Albedo, Albedo! The sound of his name was mixed with your laughter while Klee came into the scene and caught the dandelions with you. A content smile formed on his countenance as he watched from afar, even if it was just a memory, "It's everything. The breakfast we ate together, to the nights spent camping outside, and the silly moments we shared, they bring all these colours that I never knew existed."
"..."
Albedo curls his fingers against the ice as he continues to lament, "Perhaps that's why I began noticing the strings around me. The closer I was to answer, the more I felt it was necessary to discover what they are. All this time, you were the answer I was searching for," Moist begins to build up in his eyes but they freeze up once reaching the corners. How cruel. Despite what he went through, he wasn't even granted the liberty to cry, "Because with you, I'm able to feel them."
He wonders what you would think if you saw him right now. Albedo peers at his reflection casted on the crystalline surface, the frame of his face had been decorated with streaks of purple and red, spreading out like tree branches as they both fought for dominance. The teal coloured orbs you once adored were beginning to transform to a colour that reminded him of his darkest days. This was Albedo's true nature- a monster, a being that wasn't human, the essence in which you never had the chance to see.
"I know I may not be the same as I was before," he added, "But if that is what it takes to follow your heart, will you let me feel the strings again?"
Would you still love me the same?
"..."
"If so, then please understand my actions," Albedo takes a step back as he held out the sword in front of him. At last, the preparations have finally been completed. He plunges the blade to the ground with full force and the surrounding area begins to shake under the power accumulated through many, intentional sacrifices. To revive the dead was a forbidden art as it came with heavy consequences. If it weren't for Albedo's talent and quick wit, the process would have consumed him long before executing the last stage. He winces, the pain was excruciating. It was hard for him to ignore the sound of his skin cracking below his ears and all the way to his nose as they fall off in the shape of small rock-like chunks. Everything hurt so much that even death sounded like a sweet dream but Albedo couldn't afford to give up. He had already come this far, his hands completely washed with sin and his reputation already broken beyond repair, Albedo had nowhere else to go. This was his last destination.
"Soon-" he pants between choked breaths. Soon your eyes will open. He could drown in your embrace, one that was warm and not cold. Soon he will be able revive those cherished memories from a frozen past. It was all he could think of right now. Your existence was the reason why a part of him felt whole and your death made him realize how painful it was to tear away those pieces. Albedo refused to let go of those pieces, they had already become a part of him. And if this path ended up tearing him even more, then so be it.
"I should have stopped you the moment you were born."
The intruder snapped him awake and he swung around to where they stood. But before Albedo could make out who it was, they lunged past him with incredible speed, kicking the sword off the ground while severing his two arms once and for all. They flew to the side, blood dyed purple trickling from the edges of his joint as he struggled to stay upright.
"Dains...leif..."
Dainsleif watched the alchemist fall onto his back as the light around him slowly faded away. He turned his gaze to where the objective was and noticed a girl encased within the ice. The man sighs out of relief when she shows no signs of life, he came just in time, "So this is how it ends."
Albedo weakly stared at the blonde man. He attempted to say something but the blood caught in his mouth prevented him from that.
"Save your breath, you won't be having any," Dainsleif remarks in a cold manner and glared at his bloodied form, "The renowned Chief Alchemist of Mondstadt and an important member of Ordo Favonious. Hmph, what an interesting turn of events. Out of everyone, I never thought you were the type to act so foolish."
Foolish...what a foreign name to be called as. He never heard anyone tell him he was foolish.
"Truly a pity," With a flick of a wrist, Dainsleif brought his sword to Albedo's neck. It was unbelievable how he had the endurance to go through all that pain while still breathing at this point but what is there to be expected from a monster? "Remember that all actions have consequences."
The alchemist watched as his life flashed before him, the weight of his sins had finally caught up. He had always seen the world as a platform for his objectives and results were merely a natural cause after attempting many experiments. But death as a consequences was an unbearble realization upon his final moments. He abandoned his title, his pupil and his dearest sister. In the end, he was still unable to fulfill his duty.
"I just..." Albedo mumbled, his words slurring together, "wanted..."
As the ashes turn to ashes and dust becomes dust, chalk returns to the earth, forever yearning a place that can never be reached.
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact scenarios#albedo#albedo x reader#genshin albedo#genshin impact albedo#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin impact imagines#nya-writes#dainsleif#genshin impact dainsleif#sucrose
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Jeka’s fanfic masterlist
Hey, guys, I figured it was about time I made a masterlist? Well, here (here) it is:
Here Here:
This is my favorite work and the longest. It's set during their professional careers, Bakugou and Midoriya are a hero duo and practically attached to the hip. Heavy pining Bakugou, with an oblivious but equally in love Midoriya. Bakusquad being wholesome. Three works (So far):
Here here, my friends and me (You are my familia)
Admit Defeat
The Truth Never Bends
Nobody Else (Can take me higher):
It’s not finished yet, but it’s the next long fic, this is a Bakudeku Pacific Rim AU where they were both best friends before they separated for a couple of years, and they are Jaeger pilots. Lots of angst and working through hard feelings, and yet they’re soulmates.
Many Sunflowers Later:
Wrote this for Twin Stars. It's inspired by Fantasy AU. Dragon leader Bakugou and Scholar Midoriya, lots of yearning and waiting for the other.
Tough Love:
This is a story of loving touches and coming together at last. They are so in love it's ridiculous.
Keep turning my life around:
Bakugou and Midoriya are a hero duo and a solid couple. This is their Christmas together.
You feel like home (You are home):
Temporary amnesia. Midoriya loses his memories during Christmas Eve, but he has a massive crush on his husband either way. Bakugou is an amazing partner.
I’ll give you my all (my heart and my soul)
It’s Bakugou’s birthday. There’s a gift for him from the whole class, but after, Midoriya is the one who gives him everything he could ever want.
Spiderman AU
Through every adventure (Bakudeku Spiderman AU)
Rage against the waking dawn (That famous church scene with Venom)
I know the way home (Bakugou finds his way back to his favorite hero)
One shots:
My shorter stories, inspired by my lovely followers. Mostly tooth-rotting fluff
Better Life (Quirkless AU, Bakudeku takes a different path.)
Are you in control? (Midoriya is furious and Bakugou calms him down)
I choose you every day (Married Bakudeku, Bakugou is a great husband)
In the morning light (Bakudeku soft morning)
Lower your guard (Bakugou is clingy when tired, Midoriya loves it)
Fool for you (Prohero Bakudeku gets outted during an interview, because they are dumb)
Tired heart (Prohero Bakudeku, Bakugou almost loses two kids during a rescue, and Midoriya comforts him)
Aftermath (Post ch 285, in the aftermath of battle, they reach for the other)
Izuku in Wonderland (Alice Midoriya and Mad Hatter Bakugou)
With me all along ( It's their first day as pro heroes, and Izuku is a little nervous.)
I wanna soar with you (Connected to Many sunflowers later. This is Izuku coming back to the dragon clan.)
Fate Don’t Know You Like I Do (SPOILERS FOR CURRENT MANGA EVENTS.-Set after chapter 322-)
A memory safe in my soul (Midoriya looking at Bakugou laughing and being smitten.)
One word from you (Bakugou calling Midoriya Izuku)
Mistletoe, really? (Bakugou wears a mistletoe hat... Midoriya is possessive.)
Those are all for now, but I have many works on the making. English is not my first language (you'll see) but I really put my everything into the stories. So, maybe someone can read this and find some joy.
Enjoy!
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Ace of Hearts
Sam “Ace” Rothstein x Reader
Hi guys! Corny title, I KNOW, but I’m so incredibly happy to finally be posting this. I’ve been working on it since December, and it’s probably the longest thing I’ll ever write! Just to give you a quick rundown: it’s based off of Casino so you’ll see some familiar events and verbiage, but it’s told out of order to fit what I wanted and there’s a new character (Miss y/n). I have worked so so hard on this, so I hope you all love it! Thank you so much!
TW: smut, anything in Casino that triggers you may be in here, violence, injury, drinking, smoking, drugs, death, threats, cheating/affair, divorce, cursing, etc.
Word Count: 17.9k
"(Y/N)! Good evening, it's nice to see you, hun," Sam says, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug and giving you a kiss on the cheek, "Looking beautiful as always." You place a hand on his chest, taking in the scent of his cologne; he always smelled good and expensive.
You are at Sam's casino, The Tangiers; he had invited you for dinner, like he does regularly. You and Sam are good friends; you met through Billy, the casino manager, and so Sam invites you to dinner there quite often. When it came to the casino, he was quite the social butterfly: always wanting to show the casino off to people and being extremely hospitable so that word-of-mouth would travel and bring new people in.
"Thank you, Sam, how have you been since I last saw you?" Most people call him Ace, but he had introduced himself you as Sam, for some reason, so it just stuck.
"Really good, actually, I have some news for you," you had become a person that Sam likes to confide in; he trusts you, and he says it's nice to get a woman's perspective.
"And what is that?" you ask with a smile as you head towards your usual table.
"I'm dating someone," he says with a grin, trying not to be too proud of himself.
"Sam! Really? You found a girl?!" you stop, taking his hand, waiting for details.
"Yeah, we just got together a few weeks ago. She's... Well, she's like me, I guess," you both start walking towards the table again, "She's driven and she's got a big presence when she walks in a room. And she's just got this spark; I don't know what it is about her."
"Ah, he must be going on about Ginger," Billy says as you walk up to where he's seated, waiting on you, "yeah, he was starstruck the moment he laid eyes on her."
"She'll be here soon; I'd like you to meet her," Sam says to you. Despite being a very confident man, there were certain people he likes to get approval from; you feel honored to be one of those people.
So, you take your seats at the table, and as promised, Ginger is there only a little while later. You can tell it's her; she is exactly the way Sam described her. Her tall, blonde figure really captures everyone's attention, especially Sam's.
"Hey, gorgeous," Sam greets her, motioning for her to slide into the booth next you him.
"Hi, Sam," she hands him her clutch purse and sits down, giving him a peck on the lips. He goes around and introduces her to everyone at the table including you. She seems like she has a great personality and excellent people skills, but you couldn't help but feel a little jealous that she called him Sam too. You thought you were the only one, but it makes sense considering she is his girlfriend.
After everyone is settled in and food orders placed, Ginger leans forward so she can see past Sam to talk to you. "(Y/N)?" she says kind of quietly.
"Oh, hey!" you reply casually.
"I just wanted to say," she starts, "Sam talks about you a lot; it's nice to finally meet you, and I hope we can be friends. There aren't a lot girls in this business," she says with a bit of a chuckle at the end.
At that moment you both realize Sam is listening in on your conversation.
"Oh, well, thank you, Ginger. Any girl good enough for Sam must be really spectacular; he's a picky man!"
He puts his arm around her, "Spectacular is a good word to describe her." He takes your hand in one of his for just a moment, squeezing lightly and giving you a happy look, proud that you and her are getting along.
• • •
Over the next few months, you see Sam fall madly in love with Ginger. She couldn't deny that he was a very sweet man who gave her respect and anything should could ever ask for, but you could tell she never reciprocated those feelings as much as Sam. You get the feeling that she loved what he could do for her more than the man he was, but then again, maybe she's just slow to fall in love and you're being overprotective of your friend.
You trust Sam and know that even though he's in love, he'll maintain a level head. He treats everything like a business transaction.
As it turns out, that's exactly how he handles their engagement from what he tells you. You had stopped in for a visit at the casino, so he is sitting with you and catching up before he heads back out to the floor.
"Yeah, I told her that I know her feelings haven't developed as quickly as mine, but that if she lets me marry her, she'll be taken care of for the rest of her life, and she won't have to hustle the streets anymore. The love will come, I know it will," Sam explains to you, although it seemed like that last part was for him.
"And she said yes?" you ask.
"Yes. She said yes. She even agreed to have a baby with me." You'd never seen such a happy look in his eyes; Sam had always wanted a family, and it took a long time, but it's finally happening for him.
While this worried you a bit, you press on, "So, when's the wedding?!" you try to joke.
"Oh, well, uh... In a year at least. We want to have the baby first; it was part of our deal."
"What? Sam," you try to make sense of what he just told you, "you don't find it a little odd that you had to negotiate your own engagement, and that you can't trust her to have a baby with you 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 you're married?"
"I mean, it's unconventional, but that's just Vegas."
"No, love is love, no matter what city you're in. You deserve someone who will love you and respect you as much as you love and respect them. Not many people see it, but you have such a big heart, Sam; don't let someone take advantage of it," you place your hands on his, and his eyes glance up at you. You both share a knowing look. As much as Sam respects your opinion, nothing will stop him once he wants something, and he wants Ginger: her trust, her respect, and her love.
You see Sam and Ginger several times throughout their pregnancy, and honestly, they couldn't be happier. Sam is going to have the baby he always wanted, and Ginger is getting all the attention in the world for carrying Sam Rothstein's child. You think maybe this will solve all their problems.
• • •
Just a few months after the baby was born, you received an invitation to their wedding. You had been by their apartment a few weeks prior to visit and meet the baby, and gosh, she was so cute. Sam lit up when he held her; he was so proud of his baby girl, Amy. But Sam hadn't mentioned anything about a wedding happening so soon, although they do have the money to make one happen quickly.
The wedding is very nice, although it's more of a party than a wedding. Ginger is a socialite, so it only makes sense that there would be more attention on the reception than the ceremony.
You go sit with Nicky and his wife Jennifer so that you can hold the baby, while Sam and Ginger cut the cake and share champage. This is supposed to be a happy moment for them, but you can tell something is off. Maybe it's because they don't have baby fever anymore; parenting is not easy, so that's what you chalk it up to.
As you're making faces getting the baby to giggle, you see Sam sneak off into a back room, presumably looking for Ginger. You continue to entertain their baby while you wait for him to come back; you hadn't really gotten a chance to see him all night, and you want to show your support and congratulate him.
As you chat with Nicky, you see Ginger and Sam return from wherever they had gone; only problem is, they went two different directions and Ginger had clearly been crying. That's not normal behavior for newly weds. Nicky takes notice as well and says, "Eh, uh, why don't you go check on him? I'll take the baby."
And so, you hand him Sam's little bundle of joy, and make your way across the ballroom to your friend. He had been pulled into a conversation that he clearly didn't want to be having, so you tap him on the shoulder and excuse him from the group of people. He puts his hand around your waist as you walk off.
"Dance with me," you say simply, and he happily agrees. You knew you'd be able to talk privately because you'd be so close to him on the dancefloor, and it wouldn't look suspicious like if you swept him away to a different room.
"Trouble in paradise already?" you ask him, "You two have been so happy the past few months, what's going on?"
"Well, I guess maybe she realized this is the end of the road, and that I'm the one she'll be stuck with the rest of her life... Whatever the reason, she felt the need to call her pimp, Lester Diamond," he explains, pursing his lips at the end; he was really frustrated and trying not to show it.
"What did she call him for? She doesn't still love him or something, does she?"
"She says she called him to let him know it was over and that she's married now. He was her first love, and the only thing in this whole world she's got a soft spot for."
"Oh, Sam... You don't deserve that; you don't deserve someone that's holding onto their baggage with someone else."
"Well then maybe I should've married someone like you," he says with a small laugh and a look of longing in his eyes. He pulls you even closer to him, and you hold him a bit tighter in an effort to comfort him.
"You shouldn't say things like that on your wedding day," you say quietly next to his ear.
"But it's true. You've got the looks, the personality, a great heart, but for some reason, I only want Ginger, or at least for a while I did." With that, he stares into your eyes for a little while, before kissing you on your jawline and neck a few times.
After a pause, you say, "Well, I hope that was the last time she calls him. You deserve nothing but the best, but I know how much you love her, so I hope you two will find happiness with one other." You decide not to say anything about the way he implied that he wanted to be with you or the way he just kissed you; maybe that would make it worse. That probably isn't how he really feels; he's probably just speaking from a place of being hurt by Ginger. You stop dancing and hug him, "Congratulations on your big day, it was beautiful and glamorous in way that only Sam Rothstein could do."
You both share a laugh and hopeful smiles. His hand finds yours as you start to walk away, and he gives it a squeeze before letting his arm drop to his side.
"Everything okay?" Nicky asks when you get back to the table.
"Yeah, everything's gonna be fine," there wasn't much point in explaining it to him, he had a thing for Ginger, so he would make excuses for her. Plus it wasn't your news to share, Sam trusted that you would keep his secrets, because that's how you'd always been.
You grabbed your things to leave, and you shot one quick glance back at Sam before heading out. He was hugging Ginger, trying to comfort her; that didn't stop the nasty look she gave you when she saw you looking at her man. "Sadly, he belongs to her now," you think as you take in the cool night air outside the wedding chapel, "legally, at least."
• • •
The next several months of their marriage only take a turn for the worse. The issue isn't that they don't understand each other, it's that they're exactly alike: both strong-minded with the will to get what they want. The issue is that the things they want don't align with the other person's goals. Sam wants a successful casino and to have Ginger's love, but Ginger is someone who can't be tamed; she wants money wherever she can get it, and she wants to be the center of attention.
The thing that works on Sam's nerves more than anything is that Ginger just refused to cut ties with Lester Diamond.
"She just keeps- she- she asked me for all this money, and she won't tell me what it's for," Sam is fuming as he vents to you about his wife, "She knows I would give her anything she wants of she'll just tell me what it's for. She won't be honest with me, and that's how I know she's up to no good."
"What do you think the money is for?" you ask, placing your hand on his. He had come over to your house just to visit and have a few drinks. This has become a regular thing since he married Ginger; he relies on your company and your advice.
"Mmm, it's just a suspicion, but I think it might be for that pimp." He rubs his thumb across the back of your hand as he held it.
"I thought she ended things with him, but I wouldn't put it past her to go behind your back. I'm sorry that you can't trust your own wife; I know you value that so much."
"Well, I'm at least glad to know that someone in this world still has values like me. In a town like Las Vegas, everyone is so cutthroat. Sometimes I think you and Billy are the only ones left with a moral compass."
"You have one too, Sam, and a good heart," you pull him towards you, and he lies across the couch to place his head in your lap. He is only casual like this with a few people, but he finds it fun to kick back and relax with you. He looks up at you while you gently comb your fingers though his hair; eventually it will work the gel out of his hair, but you like it when he let his waves hang loose. "What are you gonna do about her giving Lester that money?"
"Hm, I don't know yet," he answers with raised eyebrows and a shoulder shrug.
"What if you let her have the money?"
"So she can give it to that scumbag?"
"Listen, honey," you chuckle at him, "what if you let her have the money, knowing she's going to give it to Lester, but you and Nicky's guys show up with her. Put him in his place, rough him up, that way he won't come begging on her doorstep again. AND she'll see what happens if she tries to give him your money again."
A surprised look appears on his face, "Damn, baby, you been hanging out with Nicky, taking some notes from him? It almost sounds like you hate my wife or something!" You both laugh together.
Your laughter dies off, and you look down at his face in your lap, "I hate the way she treats you." It's the simple truth; he deserves better.
• • •
A few weeks later, you're at a pool party at Billy's place. Las Vegas summers are hot, so pools are basically a requirement out here.
Normally, Sam brought Ginger to these kinds of things; that's just what you were supposed to do, but you had convinced him to come by himself. At first the thought made him uncomfortable, because he knew it would cause another argument at home, but he also just wanted to get away for a while. And so, he left Ginger with a stack of cash, told her to go shopping, and came over to Billy's.
You don't notice Sam when he first arrives; you're in the pool taking to some of Billy's business associates, some you had met before, some you hadn't. One of these guys has made himself really comfortable with you: grabbing at your hips and trying to keep you close to him. You're used to men like this putting their hands on you, and it's normally very casual, but this guy is being more aggressive than you are used to.
He's putting his arms around you and pulling you really close to his chest. You use your arms as a barrier between you and him; it's really more awkward than anything.
"Excuse me?"
You look over your shoulder to see Sam standing at the edge of the pool.
"Yeah?" the guy asks, adjusting his arm around you once again.
"Would you mind if the lady came with me?" Sam asked, pouring on the charm.
"She's fine here."
"Looks like she'd rather be with me" Sam says giving you a coy look.
The guy look at you, then back at Sam, "And who the fuck are you?" he replies, rudely.
"Someone you don't want to piss off." Sam takes your hand, and you free yourself from this other man. Sam helps you out of the pool and snags a towel for you to wrap yourself up in.
"Thank you for that," you tell Sam as you walk over to a table where Billy and his wife are.
"Eh, I'm sorry that he felt he could treat you like that. He'll be taken care of." You know what that means.
There are several people gathered around the table, people Sam and Billy work with at the casino, but they're also friends. Sam takes a seat in one of the lounge chairs and pulls you into his lap. Everyone at the table says their hello's and Sam whipsers to you, "Thank you for inviting me... And suggesting I leave the wife at home." He rubs a hand across your thighs and the other rests on your back.
This is a crowd that you and Sam are comfortable being close in. You two were always like this before he got with Ginger, so it feels nice to have him close to you again. You gently squeeze at his side, while he lights a cigarette and takes a puff. He offers it to you, but you just smile and shake your head.
"Hey, Billy," Sam starts.
"Yeah, Ace?" he asks, turning his attention to the man next to you.
"You see that dopey ass motherfucker in the pool over there?" Sam asks, pointing with his cigarette between his fingers, "The tall one at the center of that group?"
"Yeah, yeah, I see him. Did he do something?"
"He thought it was okay to make (Y/N) here uncomfortable, and he tried to mouth off at me about it," Sam explains.
"(Y/N), is that true? What did he do to you?" Billy asks you.
"He was just being weird and way too handsy. I tried to get away from him but he would just grab me if I did that. I didn't wanna make a scene though."
Billy turns to look back at the group of guys in the pool, "And all those guys with him just let it happen, huh?" He turns back to you, "It'll be handled. That's unacceptable."
Sam gives your waist a squeeze, and you share a look with him. "You gonna get in the pool at all today?" you ask him, motioning to his outfit: khaki slacks, a button up shirt (unbuttoned a little bit), and a pale pink sports coat.
"I don't know, I'm having a good time right here. You look good in that bikini, baby," he whispers the last part, rubbing his fingers over the string on your back, "it doesn't leave much to the imagination..."
"Just the parts that all you boys want to see," you bite your lip, and you both giggle quietly.
The afternoon goes by with casual conversation as you and Sam lounge back in your chair with you leaning against his chest and your face tucked into the crook of his neck. He keeps his arms around you, as he chats and enjoys some drinks and cigarettes with the guys at the table.
Soon, the sun begins it's descent before the moon comes out, which means the temperature is dropping too. Vegas has some of the hottest days and the coldest nights.
You sit up from your cozy spot against Sam's chest and pluck the cigarette holder from between his lips. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take a drag off of it, then you exhale the smoke at the same time as him.
A warm smile spreads across your face as you return the cigarette to him. "I'm gonna go change," you whisper to him before getting up and heading inside Billy's house.
Upstairs in the bathroom, you take your change of clothes out of your bag and lay them out on the counter. You hear a small knock at the door before Sam enters the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
"Sam? What are you doing?" you ask him.
He walks over and places himself behind you, looking you up and down in the mirror. He wraps his arms around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder, making eye contact with you, again in the mirror.
"You're so beautiful," is all he says before one hand travels to your hip, and his lips find your skin. He kisses at your neck slowly but sensually; you close your eyes as your back arches into him. He has you turned on in a matter of seconds; you had never realized you wanted him this bad.
One of his hands slides up your back and pulls the string of your bikini top, untying it and leaving your back bare. Your top hangs on by the knot at the back of your neck.
His kisses grow increasingly sloppy as he becomes more turned on for you. One of his hands cups at the underside of your breast, while the other holds your hips in place. You feel his erection in his pants against your backside, as he unties one of the knots at your hip.
"Sam-" You want him badly, but your conscience won't let you do this. "Sam."
His motions stop and he looks up at you in the mirror. You turn around in his arms so that you can look him in the eyes. With a bittersweet look on your face, you say, "We can't do this. You're married, Sam. We can't do this, especially not in Billy's house."
A look of clarity comes to his eyes as you talk some sense into him. "Yeah, yeah, you're right," he answers. He reaches for a towel and wraps it around your body, as if to cover up the thing that was tempting him. You tie the towel in place and go ahead and remove your bikini, dropping it to the floor. Sam pulls you into a hug, holding your toweled waist tight, "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry."
• • •
The next time you see Sam is just for a normal get-together at The Tangiers. Being the gentleman he is, he treats you as if the incident at Billy's place never happened, and it's best this way; he's one of your best friends after all.
This dinner is anything but normal, however. Ginger had started to catch on to Sam leaving her at home. You got the feeling Nicky was the one who let her in on that secret.
Ginger storms into the casino, making a scene like she always does; she's always been the kind of person you hear before you see when she's angry. Security follows her over as she makes her way to the table with their little girl on her hip. Sam stands up and rushes over to her, in an effort to keep Ginger away from everyone at the table. It doesn't work that well, she continues pushing towards the table as she screams at him about leaving her at home and making her take care of their toddler.
Sam gets the kid from Ginger, and she pushes past him and towards you, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU PUT THE IDEA IN HIS HEAD TO START SNEAKING AROUND ON ME!"
You sit there, completely taken back. You would try to say something, but you wouldn't get a word in as Ginger is letting you have it.
Sam comes over, grabbing Ginger's arm and pulling her to face him, "What the fuck is the matter with you? What the fuck is the MATTER WITH YOU?! Bringing our kid here at this time of night! Screaming at (Y/N)!" He points at you, "You ain't had nothin' to do with her since you met!! And you wanna come in here and blame your problems on her?!"
You had never seen Sam so angry before, screaming at the top of his lungs like this in front of everyone, in his own casino. There was a pause as everyone waited for what was gonna happen next.
Quietly, Ginger speaks, "Oh my God," her voice cracked like she was about to cry, "oh my God, you're defending her..." She turns to walk away, crying into her hands. Sam quickly hands Amy over to you and runs after Ginger.
Security follows them, and everyone at the table sits in silence as you all listen to Ginger yell and cry at Sam on the way outside, "You never defended me! To anyone! For anything! You've never defended me like that!"
• • •
A few days later, flowers show up at your house with a note from Sam.
"I'm so sorry for the other night and how crazy things have been lately. Let's go out and I'll make it up to you. -S. R."
Attached is a reservation card telling you that you're having dinner with him tonight at a small restaurant you used to go to when Sam first moved out to Las Vegas.
"I'm so glad you actually came. I thought maybe you didn't want anything to do with me after Ginger yelled at you like that."
"Have I ever been the type of girl that would blame you for your wife's actions?" you say greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, "it's good to see you all in one piece; I was worried what she might do to you." You both chuckle and sit down at your table.
"I just- uhh, I just wanted to take you out like we used to do before everything got so crazy. Back when I was still getting used to the desert and Billy introduced me to you; it was just simple... and always fun when you were around. So I just thought maybe we could re-live that for a night," Sam explains his reasoning for bringing you here alone.
"Well I think it'll be fun," you say reaching over and giving his hand an encouraging squeeze, "This place always had great food!" You lean back in your seat, slide your heels off under the table, and prop your feet up in Sam's lap across from you. He raises his eyebrows, giving you a look. "Well you said you wanted it to be like old times!" you exclaim.
After dinner and dessert, you both sit back with your bellies full. The food was so rich and lovely; you both ate so much more than you normally would have, but you aren't in the company of anyone fancy so you cut loose.
"You wanna get out of here? I got somewhere I'd like to take you," Sam asks.
"Ooooh, honey, I don't think I can move, I'm so full!" you groan at him, "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere you took me when I first moved here and I needed some peace and quiet from the city."
And with that, you let him take you by the hand and lead you out to his car. When you cruise past the strip and out into the dark dessert, you lean on his shoulder and ask, "You're not gonna whack me, are you?"
"Now, I couldn't tell you if I was. Typically the guy you're gonna whack doesn't ask ya, and typically the guy you're gonna whack is a guy," you both laugh. Tonight really had been like old times.
You slide over and lay down, laying your head in his lap. He put his arm across your chest and shoulder as if you were an arm rest, and he looks down at you. "Eyes on the road, Mr. Rothstein!"
"Yes, ma'am" he cracks a smile and looks up like he's supposed to.
Parked just a few miles out in the desert, Sam gets out the car, grabbing a blanket from the back, and tossing it across the hood of the car. He also grabs an extra jacket for you for when it gets cold.
"Alright, get outta the car," he says, looking at you laid across the front seat of his Cadillac.
"Mmmm... but I'm so cozy here," you whine.
Sam grabs you by your feet and drags you across the seat to pull you up out of the car. Once you're on your feet, he grips both of your shoulders and looks you over, "Princess. You're a spoiled princess, you know that?" He grabs your hips and lifts you onto the hood of the car before walking around and hopping up to sit next to you.
"It's been forever since I came out here... Thank you for bringing me," you tell Sam as you lean back on the windshield of his car and look up at the endless sea of stars in the night sky. Out here in the desert, there was no light pollution, and it was such a clear night, it felt like there were a million stars up there.
"Want this?" Sam asks holding up his extra jacket.
You take it from him and bundle up in it. It was warm and smelled like him, like he had worn it recently or perhaps sprayed his cologne on it.
He put his arm around your shoulders; together, you looked up at night sky and talked, occasionally pointing out constellations or planets.
The lower the temperature drops, the more you snuggle into Sam. Every few moments you glance at each other, sometimes making eye contact and smiling at each other.
"Mm, come here," Sam grumbles pulling you into a full-on cuddle.
"Cold?" you joke.
"Nope, you're just too far away," he nuzzles his nose into your hair and leaves a kiss there.
You turn your head to face him, "Sam."
He places his hand on your cheek and sarcastically replies, "(Y/N)."
Your eyes linger on one another's for what feels like several minutes; for a moment, the whole world fell away and it was just the two of you. You both lean in, gently pressing your lips to one another's. You move your lips together slowly and carefully, as if you might break something. The moment lasts a long time, but not long enough.
Sam pulls back to look at you, "I love you."
You open your mouth to protest, but all that comes out is, "I love you, too."
Without another word, you both agree to not discuss it. Whether you liked it or not, things were about to get complicated, so you both just want things to be simple for the night.
• • •
You had always assumed Sam was the kind of man to take a woman to bed quickly in a relationship. Of course, your relationship is anything but conventional; you'd been friends for years, but now it was obvious those feelings of friendship had been something more all along.
You had spent some time together a few times since your outing to the desert. He greeted you with a kiss each of those times you met up, because you made sure to meet in private; word couldn't get out about this, or it would cause trouble with Ginger and the crime family Nicky and Sam were in. The family wouldn't take so kindly to Ginger causing a big scene over Sam's infidelity.
You and Sam also really wanted to take things slow; you didn't want to ruin a good friendship by rushing. So when he came to your house or you met in his office, you spent a lot of time in his arms, kissing him, and not too much more.
But your job right now is to act like none of that exists, like everything is just the way it's always been. You're at a big celebration for Sam; the gaming commission is giving an award to him for being such an important asset in the success of gambling in Las Vegas. Everyone who knows Sam is there; it's his big night!
As events like this usually go, Sam is at a table on a stage at the front of the room. His closest friends are all sat together: you, Billy, Nicky, Ginger, and a few others. On the surface everything is cool, but you know this mix of people isn't good news.
There are rumors floating around that the FBI agents keeping an eye on Nicky had gotten some pictures of him and Ginger together. Sam didn't want to pry into it; he didn't want another reason to be mad with her. Sam had also recently told you that Ginger's mysterious phone calls had started up again, and she refused to tell him who she was calling at all hours of the day. You and Sam both knew what that meant: Ginger is being anything but faithful to him.
It's a lovely dinner, aside from Ginger's remarks. It's almost like she knows about you and Sam somehow. Every time she mentions him, she makes sure to watch your reaction, and she makes several remarks like, "proud to call him my man," and, "so glad he belongs to me," while staring you down.
In an effort to try and make friendly conversation with Ginger, you lean over you her to say, "You know, I think Sam likes girls like us, because we're both like him: social and in the business. We make what he does look glamorous." You give her a hopeful smile.
She cuts her eyes and hits you with, "No, Sam likes a woman like me; we both came from the streets and had to hustle our way into money. Anyone can be a socialite in a nice gown. Some of us have more to show for it."
Upon hearing that, Billy gives Ginger a look of disapproval and puts his arm around you to comfort you. It couldn't be more obvious that she is trying to get a rise out of you, but you won't stoop to her level making a scene like that.
Ginger leans into Nicky, and you don't say much the rest of dinner.
After the award was presented to Sam and it's time to mingle, you work your way over to Sam, stopping to chat with several people along the way. As you approach him, it seems like the two of you only have eyes for each other. He greets you with a big smile spread across his face, a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
With his hands on your waist, and your hands on his chest, you tell him, "I'm so proud of you. You work so hard, and you've been so good for Las Vegas."
"Yeah, well, Las Vegas has been good to me," he says looking you in your eyes lovingly, and raising his eyebrows briefly.
What you don't realize is that Ginger sees the whole exchange, but she does something very out of character: she keeps her cool... For now.
• • •
"It was... It was the way you looked at her. You didn't have to look at her like that," Ginger sobs into the pillow on her and Sam's bed.
"How did I look at her? Huh? What did I do?" Sam questions her, pacing around their bedroom.
Ginger shifts to look up at Sam with tear-filled eyes, "Like you love her... You looked at her like you love her."
"Ginger-" Sam starts and pauses to keep his composure, "What do you care how I look at her? You me you didn't love me! And I thought I could change you!"
There was a pause before he continued, "You're not making any goddamn sense; I don't know why I'm trying to talk any sense into you. You been drinkin' all the time, and those fuckin painkillers you took have your brain so fucked up right now... I don't even know why I'm trying; it's not worth it."
"You really feel that way?" she asks quietly.
"Feel what way?"
"That I'm not worth it. You really think that I'm not worth it?" she sits up and pushes some of the hair out of her face.
That small bit of love Sam still had for Ginger creeped back up; he couldn't hurt her like that.
He sat on the bed next to her, "No," he says as he pulls her into his chest, "I don't feel that way." He simply holds her as she cries into his shoulder.
• • •
"I guess she's spread herself too thin," Sam vents to you as you lie on your couch cuddling, "I think the drinking and the drugs are a distraction from all the men she's trying to hold down. She's never been able to keep Lester under control, Nicky is getting all kinds of heat on him with the cops in Vegas, and she's realized I don't love her the way I used to, or maybe the way I thought I did."
The last part was mostly directed at himself; Sam is coming to terms with the decision he made when he married Ginger, and he's realizing that maybe it wasn't love at all. After all, lust isn't built on trust and respect.
"Don't blame yourself for falling for her. She said something to me the other night, and as hurtful as it was, it was true."
"What did she say to you?" he asks, sitting up a bit and furrowing his eyebrows.
"Well, uh, I just told her that I think you like girls like us because we're like you, but we make the business more glamorous. And she told me that you would only like a woman like her because you both worked for the success you have, and that means you and her have more to show for it."
"She said that to you?"
"Yeah, but don't worry about it. If you went to her about it, it would only cause you more problems," you try to get him to relax. There was no point in him getting stressed over it.
He sighs and lays back down, holding you tight, "I'm so sorry she said that to you. It's not true. I think her and I understand each other because of our backgrounds, but I think you know I like you just as much, if not more than I ever liked her."
"I thought you might say something like that. That's why I tried to not let it bother me," you look up and kiss him a few times.
He turns you to lay on your back, and he puts his head on your chest. You run your fingers through his hair on the back of his head.
"I wish we could just run away. I made such a mistake starting a life with Ginger. I meant it-" his voice catches a bit, "I meant it when I told you I love you. I wish I could just put her in the past and spend the rest of my days with you."
His voice got so soft at the end of his statement. From this position you couldn't see his face, and you figured there was a reason for that, as you felt some dampness forming on your shirt.
You had never seen Sam cry over anything. In that moment, it made you realize how real his feelings are. Even after all the hell Ginger put him through, it didn't break him as much as the idea of being with you.
He lies there and tries to keep his breathing even, while you wrap your arms around him and hold him. He just desperately needs love and comfort from a woman who really cares about him.
• • •
Sam and Ginger got to the point that they could hardly stand to be around one another, so they take periods of separation from one another, and they trade off who keeps Amy. Although, Sam will admit that he's more at ease when his little girl is with him.
Whenever Sam has Amy, he tries to take at least one day off work every week to spend with her. She's getting to be more of a kid than a toddler now, and she enjoys spending time with her daddy.
Today, Sam invited you along to the park and a for a picnic with Amy; it's what she asked for!
"You look pretty in your little sundress, baby," Sam compliments you, as he pushes his kid on the swing.
"It's nice seeing you dressed down a bit, too. Turns out it isn't the suit jacket that makes you so handsome!"
He was just wearing slacks and a button up shirt: sleeves rolled up, no tie, no sports coat. Oh, and don't forget the sunglasses and cigarette holder.
"Hey, Amy?" Sam calls to his daughter while she swings up and down through the air.
"Yeah, daddy?"
"You wanna go eat lunch, sweetie?"
"No!"
"No?!" Sam exclaims sarcastically, "You don't wanna go eat your lunch? I packed your favorite."
She shook her head, despite the big smile on her face.
"PB and J's?!" he asks.
She shakes her head again.
"Applesauce?"
Another no.
"Hmmm... How about those cupcakes we picked up from the bakery?"
Her little face lights up and she tries to stop the swing. Sam scoops her up on his hip to carry her over to their picnic blanket. The whole exchange is extremely adorable; you love watching Sam be a daddy to his little girl!
At lunch, surprisingly Amy stays near you. You've been babysitting her since she was a baby, and now she sees you hanging out with her dad a lot; luckily she likes you. It's really important to Sam that you two get along.
"You're gonna make a great mom one day," he says, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"Hmm? And what makes you think I'll be a mom?" you ask him, helping wipe something off Amy's cheek.
"If you stay with me, and if we end up together, you'll be Amy's new mom... aaaand maybe if you really like me, we could have a baby together," he looks down at his hands with a smirk on his face.
You put your hands over Amy's ears, and joke with him, "I think we should probably have sex before you ask me to have your baby! Although, you can trust me to have your baby 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 the wedding."
You let go of Amy's ears, while you and Sam double over in laughter.
"What's so funny?" she asks sassily, sounding just like her dad.
"Nothing, honey, you'll understand when you're older," Sam replies, petting her hair.
"You always say that, daddy. Can I go play?"
"Yes, but stay where we can see you, okay?"
"Okay!" she says, already running off. She's a busy body, just like him.
Sam pulls you into a spooning position and holds you so you can both keep an eye on Amy on the playground.
"So, you want me to make love to you, huh?" he grumbles lowly in your ear, placing some kisses on your neck.
"Mmm... Why don't you come over to my place one night and find out?" you tease at him.
• • •
You assumed tonight would be just a casual night at home, and you appreciate that, because it isn't often you get alone time. You had just gotten out the shower and decided to relax in your robe on the couch for the night.
That all changes when you hear the doorbell ring.
"Who could that be? I don't think I invited anyone over," you think as you walk to the door.
"Sam!" you exclaim, seeing him on your front stoop, "what are you doing here-"
You're cut off by his lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss. He pushes you into the house and shuts the door behind him all while his lips never leave yours. He pushes you against a wall, grabbing at your hips. When his lips move down to your neck, you gasp out his name.
"Sam! What has gotten into you?" you breathe out, "What is this?"
"Mmm..." He moans, leaving little kisses at your ear, "Ginger and Amy are out of town, and... you told me to come over and make love to you."
"That's not how I said it," you laugh, before letting out a soft moan at his actions.
He reaches over and locks your front door before leading you over to the couch. His lips find yours again, then he gently lays you down, positioning himself on top of you. His hands roam your body, as your lips move with his; his tongue enters your mouth and sends chills across your skin.
You pull away from his kiss to look at him in the eyes, "I know we've been seeing each other and doing a lot of kissing, but I don't want to make you a cheater."
"Baby, it's not about cheating. Ginger and I don't wanna be together as it is; I 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to be with 𝘺𝘰𝘶."
"Sam... are you sure? You can't go back from this."
"(Y/N), I already told you I love you. There's no going back from that." His hand snakes down to the ties on your silky robe, and pulls them loose. With his legs on either side of one of yours, he presses his hardness into your thigh. As he pulls your robe to the side just a few inches, he places soft kisses on your chest.
He pauses and looks up at you through his lashes. You place your hands on his face and shoulder, and he gives you a smile before he pulls your robe open, leaving you naked in front of him, except for the sleeves on your arms.
Sam kisses your lips lightly, then your cheek, then your neck and chest, where he starts leaving heated love bites. He gently squeezes at your breasts, as he teases them with his tongue and teeth. Soon after, he leaves a trail of kisses down your belly, leaving you with a few nips on your hipbone.
He sits up on his knees, taking your body in: your plump thighs, sensual hips, the way your breathing had become heavy, and obviously your naked parts he had always wanted to see. He moves to place himself between your legs, and he pulls one of them up, hooking your ankle on his shoulder and pressing a few kisses to your calf.
"You're beautiful," he tells you before he turns his attention back to your leg.
Sam really made you feel beautiful, but it was nothing in comparison to the way he looks: his dress shirt unbuttoned a little, shiny suit pants, large erection pressed against the fabric and poking at his waistband, his tight leather belt keeping it tame.
You're pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of Sam kissing your inner thigh; he had worked his way up to the soft, sensitive part of your leg.
He grabs you by your thighs, scooting you up the couch, giving him more room to work. Now he's bent over a bit more, placing sloppy kisses and and nibbles on your thighs as a way to get you to spread them apart. Finally, he gets down all the way, and you feel his hot breath on your center.
Seeing him crouched down on his elbows and knees, head between your legs... It's enough to make you want him. When places a few hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your labia, it makes you lose any fight you had to turn him down.
"Oh, Sam..." your hand slides into his hair as his tongue laps at you. He looks up making eye contact with you, and enjoying how flustered you look because of him.
He simply grins to himself and goes back to pleasing you. Your grip on his hair tightens each time he does something that you like, and he's smart: if you like it a lot, he does it over and over and over.
A few times, he moves down, licking at your entrance, testing the waters. When he hears a whine from you, he decides to stop being a tease and presses his tongue in past your lips. Your back arches up off the couch and you take in a deep breath; Sam digs his fingers into your thighs, keeping your hips firmly in place so he can continue swirling his tongue around inside you.
After a few minutes, he has mercy on you and goes back to your clitoris. He doesn't let up too much though. He slides his middle finger into you, slowly, and when he can't go any further, he curls it in a "come here" kind of motion.
"Oh, God," you let out, toes curling in pleasure.
Sam puts his lips on you and pulls your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. Jackpot. Your hand pulls his hair and you throw your head back; you can feel your climax coming. He lets out a low, grumbly moan, and it helps push you over the edge. Your orgasm comes in waves as Sam continues sucking and curling that finger; he's reveling in the feeling of you losing control at his hand.
When he decides you've had enough, he eases his motions to let you down from your high. The way he has total control over you and your body... You had never seen anything like it.
Sam crawls over you until he was face-to-face with you again to kiss you and make you taste yourself on his lips. He wraps his arms around you and picks you up, hands roaming your back as your robe hangs loosely behind you. With your legs wrapped around his hips, he takes you up to your bedroom.
"Can I ask you something, Sam?" you start.
"Of course you can, baby girl," he answers.
"Why would Ginger treat you so badly if you're this good in bed? And we haven't even made it to bed yet," you chuckle at the last part.
"I guess that's more of a question for Ginger than it is for me, but I'd really rather not talk about my wife right now," he says dropping you on your cozy bed. You lay there, arms above your head, your hair and silky robe spread out around you. Sam grabs you by wrapping his large hands around your ribcage and sits you up. It always impressed you how large and strong he is, because he keeps his muscles covered with all those suits. He pushes your robe off your shoulders, "That's better."
You giggle at him and reach out in front of you, giving his aching erection some much needed attention with the palm of your hand. Sam let's out a breath, and you take that as a sign to undo his belt. After opening his belt and unzipping his pants, you pull them down just a little, leaving them hanging on his hips. Your hand finds his member again, rubbing it through a much thinner layer of fabric, "You gonna show me what this thing can do?"
He puts a hand on the back of your head and pulls you to him. Your face nuzzles against his pelvis; you leave a few kisses on his groin and look up at him, "You want me to use my mouth on you?"
His eyes are fixed on yours as his lips pull into a half smile, "No, another time. I can't wait any longer to have you."
And with that, you pulled his pants off of his hips. He quickly works out of his shoes and pants and climbs on top of you.
"Oh, no, Mr. Rothstein! We are not doing this if you have those socks on!" you giggle at him.
He looks back at his feet, "What, you don't think they're sexy?" He turns back to you and kisses you, "I'd fuck you if you were wearing socks," he jokes before reaching back and pulling them off.
When he lays down on top of you, you work on unbuttoning his shirt while he kisses your lips and neck. A few seconds later his shirt is thrown to the floor. He wraps his arms around you as you make out, pressing your bodies together; like this, you can feel his muscles, his warmth, and his love, as if he was the thing you always needed.
His kisses slow down, and he pulls back to look at you, "I love you, (Y/N), and I mean it."
"I love you, too, Sam," you nearly whisper. After a short pause and Sam rubbing your cheek with his thumb, you ask, "Will you take those underwear off already? You're going awfully slow for a man who said he didn't want to wait anymore."
He smiles and shakes his head sarcastically at you, but he sits up on his knees and pushes them off, "Better?" he snarks.
"Better."
He was sexier than you ever could've imagined. He left a lot to the imagination with all his suits, but like this, you got to take in his loving eyes, messed up hair, soft skin, toned arms, and the chest hair that made a lovely trail down to his large member that's standing at attention for you.
"Come here, sexy," you command.
"Who? Me?" he points to himself, jokingly.
You reach up, and grab his hands, pulling him down on top of you again, "Yes, you."
He lets out an excited moan, kicking his underwear to the floor and snaking a hand down between your thighs. As his fingers tease at your clit, he asks, "You ready, baby doll?"
"Very ready."
That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling your legs up to wrap around his waist, slicking up the head of his cock with spit and a little precum. The next moments are filled with moans from the two of you, as he lines up with your wet entrance and begins to enter you. His hips work slowly, giving small motions to sink into you.
You could tell from the way his hips were bucking lightly that he was torn between taking things slow and fucking into you hastily, right then and there. It's the neediest you'd ever seen him; it's sexy the way you make him lose a bit of that control he always has.
As soon as he's got enough length inside you, he starts rocking into you, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. "Baby, you feel so good," he says as he buries a hand in your hair and his face in your neck, kissing you. His breathing becomes more intense, and his back arches a bit allowing for some room for him to work his hand on you again.
As if the feeling of his hardness pushing in and out of you wasn't enough, his fingers start making circles on your clit, drawing moans from your mouth. "Oh, God, those noises... You're gonna drive me crazy," he whispers in your ear before leaving a few bites on your lobe.
He moves so he can kiss you and look at your pretty face while he makes love to you. He's so excellent, pleasing your clitoris while thrusting his hips into you. You lean up to leave a series of kisses and nips on his neck and collarbone; your fingernails leaving scratches on his back and hands tangling his normally perfect hair.
"Oh, fuck..." you hear Sam say as he slows down his movements.
"You okay, honey?" you ask, concerned.
"More than okay, baby, I just got close," he answers, looking almost embarrassed. It's hard to tell if the flush on his cheeks is from answering your question or from pleasure.
"You could've finished if you wanted," you say with a warm smile.
"Oh, no. I'm not done with you yet, princess." He sits up on his knees, snaking his arm around your back and gripping your hips to lift you off the bed. His other hand rests on your pelvis, and his thumb flicks over your clit. He starts rocking you back and forth on his dick, "How about that? You like that?"
Judging by your moans and the way your back arches for him, he got his answer. He picks up his pace until he's fucking into you with quick, hard thrusts, and your thighs clap against his belly. His fingers relentlessly try to please you, and it's working: you're coming apart at the seams once again for him.
When you feel your second orgasm coming on, you can't help but also feel a little surprised... but also so turned on that he made a mess of you, twice.
Feeling your orgasm and feeling you tighten around his hard length, Sam loses himself. His hips buck into you wildly as he cums deep inside you. He sits back on his heels, and pulls you up to straddle his lap. He pumps into you a few more times while he holds you close to him, kissing anywhere his lips can reach.
Your lips meet and you kiss him several times, both of you feeling very satisfied. You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing it a little bit; he seems to like that. His arms are wrapped around you, and he just holds you on his lap like that for a few minutes, kissing your chest.
He lays his head against your shoulder, and let's out a deep breath, "Yeah, I'm in love," he giggles and stares up at you with an innocent, happy look.
"Me too," you say quietly, kissing his head with a bit of a sad look on your face.
"Hey!" he gets you to look down at him, "You okay, sweetie?"
"Yeah... I just wish we could be together, and that it wouldn't be so complicated," you tell Sam.
He lays you down on the bed, pulling out of you, then he lays next to you and holds you in his arms, "Me too, baby, me too. I just feel bad because it's my fault we can't be together like we want to."
"Oh, Sam, you know I don't blame you for that. No one enters into a bad marriage on purpose."
"No, but you were always right about her. I should've listened to you, considering I came to you for advice. She never cared about me."
"Yeah, but you cared about her, and you still do," you say with a warm smile, "she's the mother of your child. You have a big heart, Sam."
You wrap your arms around his neck and hold his head against your chest. "I care about you, too," you hear him mutter.
"I know you do. I care about you, too," you whisper, snuggling into him to drift off to sleep in his arms.
• • •
The sex was amazing, but there's nothing like waking up in the arms of someone you love, at least, that's how you feel this morning. The way Sam clings to you, almost desperately, lets you know that while you may not wake exactly like this every morning, you will wake up loved each morning.
As you begin to stir a bit, Sam's arms squeeze around you, not wanting you to leave your comfortable spooning position. He grumbles to himself a few times before finally cracking his eyes open to tell you, "Good morning, beautiful."
"Good morning," you respond, as he lies there with his eyes closed like he may go back to sleep.
He opens his eyes again, slowly, and you feel his hand gently move the covers off of you. You groan when the cool air hits your skin. "God damn, baby, you look so good," his voice rumbles.
"Mmm... You pushed the blankets off me just to tell me I look good?"
"Well, no..." he starts, and he finishes his statement by kissing your shoulder blade and neck, teasing at your thighs, and feeling your breasts. He presses his hips into your backside, letting you feel his morning wood.
"Oooh, someone's happy!" you giggle, pushing your butt back into him to give him some friction.
"I think you meant horny," he slides a hand down, grabbing at your butt before sliding further down teasing between your legs. He slowly runs his middle finger back and forth along your clit and your entrance, getting you wet for him.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Hm?" He mutters between kisses.
"I love you. I wanted to make sure to say it first for once."
He chuckles and continues what he's doing, "And I love you, and I wanna make sure you know this isn't about sex."
"Well, it's a little hard to believe that when you have a finger inside me, but Sam Rothstein is a man who's good on his word, so I'll believe you...just this once," you look over your shoulder, both of you grinning uncontrollably. You reach back and take his member in your hand, stroking it, "However, for the next few minutes, I'd like to make it about sex."
"Mmm, yes ma'am!" Sam exclaims, attacking your neck with sloppy kisses, and repositioning himself to enter you. You both relax into those feelings of pleasure as his warm cock fills you. He grips your hips loosely and thrusts his hips into you almost lazily, but it feels good.
His hand creeps down and grips your thigh, gently lifting your leg up in the air. You both light up with noises, moans, whines, heavy breathing. Within a few minutes, you hear Sam breathe out, "Baby, baby, I'm gonna cum."
You let out a hum, "Cum for me, sweetheart."
Sam pulls you close to him, moving against you with quick, small pumps. You grab his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, while he holds you tightly. After his orgasm, he slides out of you easily and turns you over to kiss your lips for the first time that morning.
Sam is so needy after sex; he wants to hold you as close as possible and shower you in kisses and affection and sweet words.
"I'm sorry I didn't finish you off, honey," Sam says to you.
"It's okay, sweetie, I'm just glad you felt so good," you hold his head in your hands, nuzzling your nose against his.
He lowers his voice as if someone might hear him, "I'll make up for it in the shower," giving you a little wink.
And he does, because Sam Rothstein is a man who's good on his word.
• • •
Since you and Sam spent that weekend together, you start fucking like bunnies. That is to say: you find time to make love to one another often, especially when Ginger is out of town. You both prefer to do it at your home, but when Sam has Amy, he will sometimes invite you over; you quickly get past sleeping in another woman's bed, because you know Sam's heart belongs to you. Sex for the two of you isn't about getting off; it's one of the many ways you show your feelings for one another.
You both find it very hard to hide your feelings for one another in front of others. You can be so open with one another and your feelings when you're in your little bubble. Despite that, you have to put your feelings aside for The Tangiers charity event tonight. Sam has a lot of big spenders flying in for this event; it's going to bring in a lot of money and a lot of publicity for the casino.
"Hey, baby," you say, sneaking into Sam's office, closing the door quietly.
He's standing by his desk signing a few papers; this is probably the one quiet moment he'll have all night. "Hey, princess," he gives you a cute look, signing a few more papers. You sit in comfortable silence, while you wait for him to finish his work. "Alright," he says, tapping his pen on the final paper, "Bring that sweet ass over here!"
He sits on the edge of his desk and pulls you into a hug, taking in your scent and the way your dress feels against your body. He lets out a relaxed sigh, "I missed you."
It has been few days since you've seen each other. With Ginger being home in preparation for this event, you and Sam decided it was best not to see each other. "I missed you, too," you nuzzle into him.
You feel his hand under your chin, lifting your face so he can kiss you. You kiss slowly at first, letting Sam explore your mouth with his tongue, but things quickly get more heated since it feels like it's been so long since you had each other.
He turns you around, sitting you on his thigh as he leans against his desk. You both crane your necks to keep your lips connected. Sam presses your back against his chest before dipping his hand into your dress, fingers teasing your nipple. You inhale sharply and brace a hand on his hip.
"You like that?" he purrs in your ear.
"Mm-hmm," you hum, leaning your head back against him.
His free hand pulls your dress up and disappears between your thighs, touching you through your panties.
"Sam..." you whine, moving your hand to squeeze at his half-hard length.
"Seems like someone misses me, needy baby," he whipsers to you.
You urge his hands off of you and stand up, facing him, "Now let's get something straight, Mr. Rothstein: I wasn't needy when I came in this office. I patiently waited for you to finish signing things, and then YOU made me needy."
There's a long pause between you before Sam cracks a little smirk and says, "You're sexy when you're mad."
Once you head downstairs to the casino floor, the party is on. Millionaires and billionaires fill the room, enjoying slots, tables, and free champagne. Sam always thought it was funny how rich people love a free handout.
Every business associate that Sam knew was here, plus the rich friends they brought with them. Those of you who spend a lot of time at the casino mingle with the guests who came to spend money; your job is to keep them spending money, because a hefty portion of what the house makes tonight is going to be split between a few charities. It was Billy's idea, saying that a charity event would be great publicity and raise goodwill with the people.
Most of your evening goes by playing table games with people you barely knew, so it's nice to see Billy, a familiar face. You hadn't seen him since you got there.
He hands you a glass of champagne and you find a more secluded place to talk while Billy watches the floor. You see Sam doing the same from his usual spot; Sam sees you and gives you a cute look, scrunching his nose when Billy isn't looking.
Almost on queue, Billy smirks, "So, you and Ace, huh?"
"Huh? What?" you stammer, caught off guard.
"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. You know my lips are sealed," he has a pleased look on his face, and he gives you a wink.
You sigh and give Billy a knowing look, confirming his suspicions, "How'd you know?"
"Well, I'll admit it took me a while to catch on, because you two have always been close. Sam's been much happier the past few weeks, but I chalked it up to Ginger getting out of his hair with her little vacations. Tonight has been the first dead giveaway: you sneaking up to his office and coming down to the floor together, and the way he's been keeping an eye on you all evening, like he's worried about you getting too far away from him."
If Sam had been watching you like that, you hadn't noticed, but it was endearing. "You should tell him not to blow our cover," you smirk at Billy.
"Oh, I plan on it," Billy leans into you, "Let me tell you a secret, (Y/N). I've always liked you two together, and I think you have always liked one another; maybe you were just too blinded by the Vegas lights to see it... So, I'll keep your secret, because you two deserve to be happy." His hand squeezes your shoulder, and he clinks his glass with yours before leaving you to go stand with Sam so they can watch the floor together.
As you walk the floor looking for a group of tycoons to mingle with, you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn to see Ginger who is now leading you across the casino floor.
"Hey, girl! Wanna work a table together? Maybe if we put our heads together, we could pull in more money." She is oddly pleasant in her tone of voice, but the way her nails grip your arm gives you a different vibe; however, you don't feel you have much choice in the matter. You are swept off to a table far away from the center of the casino, far away from Sam and Billy.
Unexpectedly, Ginger is nice to you and even jokes with you as you hustle all the rich men gathered around the roulette table, getting them to spend all of their money. When that's over, it's like a switch flips.
She drags you aside away from everyone except a few bouncers, and begins her tirade, "It's you. I know it's you." She's doing her best to remain calm with all of the donors around, but you knew she was high; she was always on something anymore.
"Ginger, what are you talking about?"
"You- your perfume! I smell it... in my bed, on Ace! I know you're sleeping with him!"
You can tell she's getting worked up, and you really don't want her to start yelling. "Now, we don't want things to get out of hand. You know I spend a lot of time with Sam; I've been helping him babysit Amy more since you guys have been more separate. Isn't it possible you smell my perfume around him because of that? You probably smell it on Amy too, right?"
Ginger is frustrated and confused, unable to make sense of things with all that junk in her system, "Yeah, yeah, I guess that makes sense," she pouts.
"Yeah, see? It's okay, everything's okay," you try to calm her down, resting your hand on her upper arm.
"No! Don't touch me!!" she shouts.
"Ginger, don't get excited; we don't wanna ruin the event."
"I don't care what you say; I don't trust you, and I don't trust you with my husband!" she sneers at you, "I have my connections just like your 'Saaam,' and if I find out anything is going on with you and him, you'll be nothing more than one of those holes in the desert these guys like to talk so much about. You're nothing but a whore as it is."
Her face is inches from yours. She had insulted you and threatened your life in a single statement, and clearly she had decided Sam was too personal a name for her husband, since she chastised you for calling him that. You decide to do your worst; you doubt she'll remember this interaction anyway.
"This coming from the woman who can't seem to shake her pimp."
Thankfully the bouncers nearby saw how heated things were getting, and they came over to break it up. They even called Nicky over talk Ginger down. It's pretty bad that even the casino staff knew about Nicky and Ginger, and that bringing Ace over would just make it worse.
But word quickly made it back to Sam about what Ginger had done to you, and so a few days later, he sent her to Beverly Hills with Amy; besides, he only needed her home for that one night at the Tangiers.
• • •
Despite all of his efforts to run a clean joint, it all came crashing down when Sam got word that the FBI had heard all about the casino and the Midwest bosses from that grocery store tap back home. Luckily, they couldn't really bring any heat down on Sam, because he didn't know much; he had been put in Las Vegas to run the casino, and he was even working on getting his gaming license which looked good on him.
Nicky, however, did get a lot of heat. He already had the attention of the Las Vegas police for a number of crimes, and he was the liaison between Las Vegas and and the Midwest bosses.
Sam had already been trying to pull away from Nicky and that meant also pulling away from the gangster business that had made him so successful as a handicapper.
Thankfully with Ginger out of town, you got to be with Sam when he found out about all this. There isn't much he can do, but he knows it's a possibility his whole casino could go under.
In order to cheer him up, you invite Sam to your place for a few days, so he can use your home as a getaway to just relax as much as he can. Despite everything going on, you both actually have a pretty good time. Sam only takes the calls he absolutely has to take which mostly meant Billy, and you both enjoy cooking together, showering together, making love together...
Unfortunately he can't stay for more than a few days or people will start to realize he isn't home, and any calls other than to Billy needed to come from Sam's house, especially any calls to Ginger. And so this morning you head off to Sam's place, so he can call the hotel in Beverly Hills to check on his wife and child.
He gets on the phone and cheerily greets the hotel receptionist before asking to be put through to Ginger's room. His tone quickly drops when he questions, "𝘔𝘳. and Mrs. Rothstein?"
You give him a concerned look as he wraps up the conversation and slams the phone down on the hook. He lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs his chin before he says, "She checked out of the hotel with another man and my kid."
"It's not Nicky, is it?" you ask.
"No, it's not Nicky, I know it's not Nicky; he's got too much heat on him to leave Vegas." That could only mean one thing: Lester.
Sam immediately gets back on the phone calling the police, the FBI agents he'd been in contact with, even Nicky, to try to find where Ginger and this pimp had taken his daughter. The FBI is very gracious in helping track down Ginger and Amy, quickly getting back to Sam with an address and phone number for where they are.
After a phone call with Lester that didn't really go anywhere, Sam is feeling helpless about what to do. He's so furious with Ginger, but he needs her to bring their daughter home. He sinks down into the couch when he looks at you desperately; he doesn't know what to do.
You quickly rush over and curl up next to him, taking the man in your arms, rubbing his shoulders for comfort. "How do I get her home? I just want Amy safe; she's not safe with that pimp, and clearly she's not safe with her mother anymore either."
"You're not gonna like to hear this, but I think Nicky is your best bet to get her back," you suggest.
He simply nods his head as he realizes you're right, then he picks up the phone to call his friend.
• • •
The next few days Sam and Ginger are walking on eggshells. It couldn't be more obvious that Ginger doesn't want to be home, but Sam had to know that Amy is safe. Since Ginger has to be home, Sam even tries being sweet to her again. He had tried to cuddle with her a few times, something they hadn't done in years, but she would just reject him each time, typically leaving the room. Sam is at his wits' end; he doesn't know what else to try with Ginger, what other approach he could take.
One night as Sam is about to leave the casino to head home, you follow him out to his car, "just to talk," you tell him. You hadn't seen him in days and you miss him.
"Hey, baby," Sam says wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"Hey, honey. I missed you," you smile at him.
He hums, "I miss you too, and I'm sorry you're in the middle of all this... It's not fair to you."
"It's okay, Sam. You're the one who's in a tough spot here. I'm just here to support you and love you and... make you feel better..." you trail off as you squeeze his thigh, your fingers gracing past his crotch.
"Oh..." Sam says, giving you a cheeky look.
You slide your hand back and forth over the front of his pants, getting him hard, while you lightly kiss at his neck and ear. "You've just been so stressed lately, sweetie; let me help you relax."
When his breathing becomes heavy, you know he's ready for more, "Baby girl, I need your mouth on me, now." He lets out a groan when you open his pants and stroke him through his underwear.
You don't waste much time before you're going down on him, kissing his leaking member before taking it in your mouth. He looks down at you and tries to keep his breathing even; all this came on pretty suddenly so you've got Sam very worked up. He takes your hair in his hands, forming a make shift ponytail to keep your hair out your face. He also likes to watch your face bob up and down on his cock.
You hollow out your cheeks and Sam savors that intense sucking feeling. Between that and your tongue pressing against his tip, he can hardly contain himself. You wrap a hand around the base of his member, pumping what you can't take in your mouth.
Sam's hands push you down making you take as much of him as you can, and his breathing becomes labored, letting out little moans as he climaxes in your mouth.
You take down what you can and lick up any of the rest. You look up to see Sam giving you a look with raised eyebrows.
"I didn't want you to make a mess..." you say with a raspy voice as you wipe your lips.
He simply stares at you, as if he was still trying to make sense of what just happened, before he grabs your hair and pulls you into a rough kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. When he pulls away from you breathing heavily, he says, "Baby, you have no idea how bad I needed that. Thank you." He softens up and pulls you back towards him, this time laying your head in the crook of his neck.
Sam leaves you at the Tangiers and at home, walks into a nightmare: his kid is tied to her bed and his wife is nowhere to be found. Despite the flood of panic and anger that he feels, he keeps his wits about him and calls you to come get Amy; with you is the safest place for her right now while Sam searches for Ginger. You only see him for a quick moment, before he rushes out the door, leaving you to pack Amy a bag and take her to your house for a few days.
Sam knows Ginger is at Nicky's new restaurant; he had called before he left the house. His tires screech to a halt as he rolls up to the place of business.
After a run-in with Nicky at the door and a quiet altercation in the corner booth, where Sam definitely threatened Ginger's life for what she did to Amy, Sam managed to get his wife in the car. On the ride home, oddly, all Sam could think was, "Where does Nicky get off asking 𝘮𝘦 to be civil, when he's the one that always gets heat brought on us?"
It's probably just a temporary distraction from elephant in the room, or car, in this case.
Sam has to admit: he's at his wits' end with Ginger. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about leaving her or kicking her out. But when they walk into the house, and he sees the apologetic look in his wife's eyes, whether honest or manipulative, one thought crosses his mind, "She's the mother of my child."
How could he walk out on her? He had promised she'd be taken care of, and even though he really only meant financially, his big heart wouldn't allow him to hurt her.
She doesn't care what he does; she won't be bothered as long as she gets the money she's promised.
"Come on, honey, let's go to bed," Sam says softly, taking his wife's hand. They take a few steps together before the man stops and turns to her; he places his hands on her sides, seeing if she'll hug him. When she does, sadly, it leaves Sam with a shred of hope for their relationship.
• • •
Sam had been exhausted, so he went to bed with the promise that Ginger would meet him there after she gets a shower. However, when Sam wakes up, seeing the time on the clock and the other half of his bed empty; he's immediately filled with suspicion.
At 3:03 A.M., he finds himself sneaking down the hallway--sneaking... in his own house. He shakes his head and quietly shuffles down the hallway towards the living room, where he can hear Ginger's voice moving at a rapid and excited pace.
"I don't care- I don't care!! I want that fucker dead! I want him dead! And that little slut too!! Sleeping in my bed- No! No, I will not calm down... I want a hit on that bitch, that way he can 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵! The same way he hurt me!" Ginger snarls and sobs into the phone.
Sam's heart sank. The thought of losing you--no, he couldn't think about that right now; he simply springs into action, grabbing the phone from Ginger's hands. "Who's this?" he demands to the person on the other end of the line, before slamming the phone down only a second later as Ginger leaps up, practically attacking Sam by pounding her balled up hands against his chest and arms.
"You want me dead, huh? You want me outta the picture?!" his voice booms as she starts to wrestle with him, crying and screaming. "Come with me, come on!" He gets her flailing hands undercontol and drags her down the hallway; Ginger's feet come out from under her, and he just keeps dragging her, both of them yelling at each other.
"I hate you!!! I hate your guts!" Ginger shouts at Sam from where she's laying on the floor of their walk in closet, her face red from crying.
"I know, you evil bitch! What did I ever do to you, huh? I tried to love you and look where it got me..." He slaps a duffle bag down on her lap.
"What's this?" she asks.
He follows it with a pile of clothes, gorgeous, expensive fabrics hitting the floor, "Get your shit, and get out," Sam growls, fire and pain in his eyes.
"You can't kick me out, you can't put me out on the street with no money!!!" She jumps up and starts grabbing expensive clothes.
"Money's all you care about, huh?" he questions, bending down to a shoe box under his clothes; he pulls out all that would fit in his hands, bringing it over to her on the floor. "Is this enough?? You'll probably blow through this in a week!" He dumps the cash in her lap, storming off from her to rip more of her clothes off hangers.
"You can't abandon me!! You told me I'd be taken care of! If you kick me out, I'll go take all my jewelry out the bank!!" she threatens.
He grabs her set of keys, taking her house key off the ring, leaving her with car keys and her bank keys. "And I will not stop you," Sam says, almost calmly.
He knew the key to his millions was still in his desk drawer upstairs, she'd only be leaving with the key to what's hers. He'd been feeling unsure about walking out on her, but Sam made his decision the moment Ginger threatened your life.
• • •
For the next week, you and Sam were waiting for the ball to drop and for Ginger to come storming through that door. But in another way, Sam didn't care; he had you over all the time, even when people came over. He started to put his hands on your waist or even kiss you in front of others. It made you so nervous the first time he kissed you in front of Nicky, but Sam knew what he was doing. Nicky couldn't run to anyone about it, because what Nicky had done was worse in the eyes of the Midwest bosses: sleeping with his best friend's wife, their precious "Golden Jew."
But that isn't the reason Nicky's here right now.
"Ace, they took the bosses in. Arrested every single one of 'em. The FBI knows what's going on, all of it, but they ain't got nothing on me or you, because we don't go in room where they count the money. That doesn't mean they won't question us though."
And boy did they. Sam was already irritated that his name was in the paper every time Nicky went to court for some crime, but now it was coming out that him and Nicky were both being held for questioning for the crime bust in the Midwest.
Nicky pretty much refused to give them anything, but Sam had a reputation with the law and a relationship with the FBI out here. They had helped him get his kid back after all. So, he didn't give them any new information, but he didn't mind confirming certain things they already knew, as long as it didn't incriminate him.
Because of his cooperation, the authorities left Sam alone after a little while. Most of the attention was on Nicky and what his connections were to the Midwest bosses and the casino. Somehow Nicky got himself out of it without getting arrested; Sam had to wonder if it was Nicky's rambling or his threats that did the trick.
Weeks went by, and it was clear that the casino was going down. It wasn't for trying though. Sam fought so hard to keep his precious establishment running, but the place had been riddled with scandals. And even with the bosses facing trial, the powers that be decided to get rid of the whole scam; Sam losing The Tangiers would just be a necessary evil to them.
Sam decided it was a better time than ever to leave the business behind. Besides, he'd never been into crime the way Nicky was; he'd just been pulled into this because he was a money maker.
So as Sam walks out of the casino for the last time, locking the doors to the completely empty building, he lights a cigarette and heads over to his car with only one thing on his mind: going home to you and Amy. Unfortunately, he won't make it home as soon as he would have liked, as his car goes up in flames from a car bomb that must've been rigged while he was inside the casino.
Sam had planned for this kind of thing though, and he had the manufacturers of the vehicle place a special metal plate under the passenger seat, giving him a few valuable seconds to save his life.
You get the call during Sam's ambulance ride to the hospital. At first you're devastated--why would anyone want to hurt your Sam? Before you could find to a conclusion, you quickly snap out of it, getting Amy into the car to get to the hospital.
"Mr. Rothstein-"
"I told you, I don't want-
"Mr. Rothstein, we think it's important that we run this test," the doctor speaks over Sam. Must be an important test for him to interrupt Ace Rothstein.
"I'm fine!" your boyfriend groans, "My arm is burned, but I feel fine."
"But sir, it's possible the adrenaline in your system-"
"Sam Rothstein!" You cut the doctor off, storming in with Amy on your hip.
"Hey, baby!" he holds a hand out towards you.
"Don't you 'baby' me. I know you're not arguing with this doctor, refusing medical advice!! You don't just have yourself to worry about here, you have me and Amy- and I swear to God, Sam Rothstein if you die on me, you'll have more than heaven and hell to worry about! You'll have me to answer to," you finish your rant with a stern look.
His face drops for a moment before a little smirk forms, "You're sexy when you're mad."
Ignoring him, you turn to his doctor, "Run any tests you need to. I'll deal with him." You pat the doctor on his tie.
"Yes, ma'am, Mrs. Rothstein," the doctor says as you walk away, giving them room to do what they need to do.
"Oh, we're not married... yet," Sam explains, scrunching his nose cutely at you.
"Well I'm not gonna be the one to tell her that," the doctor says under his breath.
As they wheel Sam out of the room to take him for some tests, you hear Amy's voice, "Why are you mad at daddy?"
"I'm not mad at daddy," a little chuckle leaves you and you hug the child close to you, "I just love him, and so I had to make him listen to the doctors."
• • •
You pick Sam up just a few days later, perfectly fine, except for some burns on his arm. He sits in the passenger seat of your car with a pile of things from the hospital: his coral pink suit in a plastic bag, burned in a few spots from the bomb, a folder with some information about caring for his burns, a packet full of bandages and prescription ointment, and a large yellow envelope.
"Now, don't be mad," Sam starts.
"What did you do?" you glare at him for a second before turning your eyes back to the road.
"I, uh, got a real estate agent to start looking for new homes for us."
"Sammy, why would I be mad about that? We practically live together already!"
"These homes--they're not in Las Vegas."
"What?!" you practically give him whiplash, pulling the car into a random parking lot. "You wanna leave Las Vegas? Sam, I grew up here..."
He looks down at his lap and back up at you, "I know," it comes out so quietly, "I just don't think we're safe here anymore... I'm not in the business anymore, I'm but afforded the same protections as I used to be. What if they come after you next? Or Amy? Right now, I know enough people that we could get out quietly..."
"Oh, Sam..." You cup his face in your hands, "I'm sorry I reacted like that, I'm scared too, and now I have a kid to worry about. I know she's not mine yet, but if anything happened to Amy-" You have to stop yourself before you cry.
"Here," he says, grabbing the yellow envelope, "I gave some pictures of some houses, and there's one I really like."
Instead of driving your boyfriend home, you sit in the car looking at pictures of beautiful homes, and daydreaming about where how you'll arrange the living room, where you'll put the bed, Amy playing in the backyard.
"Hey, look at this last one," he tells you.
"Is this the one you like?"
"Yeah," his face has a happy, soft smile as he thinks about moving into this house with you; he just knows it's perfect.
"Hmmm... San Diego, huh? 4 bedrooms and a mother-in-law suite. Sam we don't need 4 bedrooms," you look up at him.
He gently places his hand on your belly, "We might."
Your heart just melts... Even if you aren't sure about kids, clearly the thought makes him happy.
"Okay so there's a pool and a lot of grass, maybe we could put a trampoline there..."
• • •
Boxes are scattered all around your new home; you picked the one in San Diego, of course. It's completely perfect.
The movers had dropped off all the big furniture and help you set it up; Sam even got them to help set up Amy's trampoline, and he was so thrilled to surprise her with it. But it will be a few more days before the decorators can come to paint, unpack, and lay out the rest. Nothing but luxury for Sam Rothstein and his "wife."
Right now, Sam is dropping Amy off at the neighbor's house for a play date, so she can get to know the kids in the area. Of course, you two had been sure to meet with this couple first to scope them out, making sure they are safe for Amy to be around.
The plan is to get some unpacking done when your man gets home, but you thought it might be nice to spend some quality alone time together in your new home.
"Honey, I'm home!" Sam chimes at the front door; it makes him so happy to be able to say that. Sam stops at the door to look around for you.
You saunter down the hallway, wearing a black trench coat and bright red high heels, "Hey, sexy!"
"Mmmm," Sam moans, "I think I should be saying that to you. What's this, baby?"
You stop just out of his reach and untie your jacket, holding it open to show off a new set of candy red lacy lingerie, "Just a little..." you turn around and drop the coat to the floor, revealing a big red bow at the top of your ass, "house warming present." You throw him a sultry look over your shoulder before walking into the kitchen, heels clicking loudly on your new porcelain floor.
Sam pulls his jaw up off the floor and quickly follows, watching as you crawl up onto the marble-top kitchen island. He walks over, appreciating your body by rubbing his hands on your sides, eyes roaming the red fabric hugging your frame. You rake your hands through his hair, and pull him into you, landing his face right between your breasts, which he seems very okay with judging by the way he closes his eyes and starts kissing at them. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying to pull you off the counter.
"Oh no, sir, Mr. Rothstein, you're not taking me to that bedroom. If we're gonna break this house in, we're gonna do it my way. What's that thing you like to say?" You look up acting like you're trying to remember, "There are three ways of doing things around here: the right way, the wrong way, and the way that I do it..."
You practically yank him up onto the counter with you, his legs fumbling with the bar stools to help get him up there. Before Sam can even get his bearings straight, you have his back pinned against the marble, your lips taking his in a passionate, sloppy kiss.
Sam pushes you off of him, breathing heavily, "Damn, baby girl, where's this coming from? Not that I'm complaining."
"Well, my sexy, rich sugar daddy just bought me a nice, new house, and I just wanna thank him," you nuzzle into him.
"Sugar daddy, huh? Is that all I am to you?" he gives you a loving look, both of you smiling at his joke.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Moneybags..." You sit up and stretch a leg across his lap straddling him. As you grind your hips back and forth against his hard on, you both let out some light moans and hot sighs. His belt buckle makes some clinking noises as you unhook it before swiftly tugging it from his belt loops and dropping it to the floor.
Zip! You open his pants and pull them down just a few inches so you can return to grinding against his member through a much thinner layer of fabric. When Sam's fingers snake towards his groin so he can further please himself, he's met with a harsh smack on the hand.
"All the pleasure you feel is gonna come from me, got it?" you tell Sam.
He raises his eyebrows, surprised by this change that's overcome you, but down for the ride--literally. The pressure of his hardness against your clit is a great warm up for you, so you keep at it until Sam has a couple of wet spots on his underwear: one from you and one from his pre-cum soaking through.
At that point, you move off of him enough to pull his pants and boxer briefs down to his upper thighs, his erection springing free. You crawl back on top of him, pinning his wrists to the counter just above his head while you kiss him. You pull away, stroking his chin and swiping your thumb across his lips.
"Ready, baby?" you ask, kissing his cheek lightly.
"I- uhhh, yeah," he breathes out.
"Cat got your tongue, silly?" you giggle.
"No, I just, I've never -uh- had a girl top me quite like this," he explains.
"Oh, um, should I stop?" you ask innocently as you grind against his dick again.
"NO- no. I, um... You shouldn't stop."
The way Sam is fumbling through the conversation tells you that he probably likes the treatment he's being given, and so you move your hips against him a few more times before moving your panties to the side and guiding his member to your entrance. Your boyfriend let's out a low groan when he feels that warm wetness surround his sex; you think that's probably his favorite part of making love.
You start by setting a leisurely pace, knowing Sam will want more, but, gosh, the tease is so satisfying too...
"Please, baby," Sam breathes.
"Please what?" you play dumb.
"Go faster... Please, baby." So predictable of him.
"Mmmm, you mean you don't like when I take my time with you?" You speed up juuuust a little bit, but not nearly as much as he would've liked.
"I thought I was in charge in the bedroom," he groans.
"Well, we're not in the bedroom are we?" You lean down to kiss him, pinning his hands down again, next to his shoulders this time. You continue to hold them down while you pick up the pace, leaving Sam feeling a bit helpless as he can't touch you.
You take a little break from all the bouncing to slide back and forth, achieving a new kind of friction. Sam curls his hips up into you, clearly enjoying the sensation.
"Let me touch you, please?" Of course you're going to give in, but not without hearing him beg a little more. No one has this kind of control over Sam "Ace" Rothstein; no one but you. "Babyyy... Please, you know I like to hold you."
He gets nothing but silence in response, oh, and your hips working even faster, which only serves to make him more needy. "(Y/N), please... please, baby, I wanna hold you so bad."
You let go of his wrists and intertwine your first with his for a moment before his hands move to your face to cup your cheek. Afterwards, his palms smooth over your chest and arms; he's looking up at you: your pretty face, soft skin, the way your hair bounces along with your breasts as you ride him.
His hips become less tame the closer he gets to his climax. He's a man who just can't help himself; he likes to be in on the action, even if he isn't on top.
You lean yourself back, placing your palms on the cool countertop, giving him a great angle to attack your g-spot. Sam's hands roam your thighs until you find your rhythm with the changed position, but once he knows he's hitting the right spots, his fingers dive in to stimulate you from the outside as well. One hand pinches and rubs your nipple while the other sets a dangerous speed on your clit.
Despite you trying to have so much control over him, Sam just knows exactly what buttons to push on you, and you're cumming in a matter of seconds. The way it snuck up on you causes you to bend forward as your orgasm pulses through you.
The man beneath you takes advantage of this by pulling you flush to his chest, bracing his feet on the counter top, and railing up into you as fast as he can. You turn into nothing but a noisy mess as he uses your body to get off.
"Fuck, baby, I'm cumming..." Sam finds his release before he even realizes it; he just feels so tangled up and lost in the pleasure of being with you.
A few seconds later, you both find yourselves lying on the kitchen island, completely limp and trying to catch your breath. Sam lazily rolls onto his side, rolling you onto the marble counter beside him. Goosebumps litter your skin as the cold countertop comes in contact with you. You both lay on the counter, staring at each other before you both brsk out into giggles.
"I can't believe you let me fuck you on this thing," you laugh, patting the marble, "and I can't believe you let me fuck you... Like that. I wasn't being too much, was I?"
Sam tucks himself back into his pants, zipping them up and buttoning them before wrapping an arm around your waist. "What? You being a little dominatrix? No, I don't think it was too much," he nuzzles his nose against yours and gives you a few soft kisses. "But," he starts, "the only woman allowed to have me like that is Mrs. Sam Rothstein..."
"Well, uh- that's not me..." you say, a little confused.
"It could be," he says in a low, soft voice, "Whaddya say? You wanna marry me?"
"Sam-" you start to feel overwhelmed for a few reasons: 1. He literally just proposed to you, but 2. "You're still married, Sam. I couldn't be your wife even if I wanted to!" Tears start to form in your eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey, shhh..." he says, pulling you into a cuddle, "You remember when I flew back to Vegas last week to go close the sale on the house there?"
You sniffle and look up at him, "Mm-hmm."
"Well I ran into one of the judges that used to come by the casino all the time, he was a big spender, but we treated him real nice. He told me he had heard everything from his friends on the force, everything about Ginger and the car bombing. We talked for a while, and he told me to stop by his chambers before I left the city," Sam fishes in his pocket for some folded up papers, "and he gave me this."
He hands you the papers to unfold and look at. "Oh... Oh, Sam! He granted you a divorce. Why didn't you tell me??"
"I wanted to surprise you..." He smiles that charming smile.
"Well, I'm certainly surprised," you hug him by nuzzling into his chest, "I didn't even know you were considering this yet."
"I've been considering it for years, honey," he whispers, kissing you on the temple, "ever since I told you I love you."
You both pause to simply take in the other person for a moment: Sam's clothes all disheveled and your still in your lingerie, cuddling on the stone counter.
"You know I think you're perfect, right? If there was just one thing I could change about you, it would be your last name. So, whaddya think, princess? You wanna try Rothstein on for size?"
The tears quickly return to your eyes, "Yeah, yeah- yes!" You grab his face and start kissing him over and over.
He can hardly pull you off of him for all the kisses, not that he wants to. However, when you decide you're done loving on your fiancé, he apologizes, "I'm sorry I don't have a ring for you right now, but ummm," he reaches for his little pinky ring; it's gold and pink to match his outfit for that day, "you can wear this for now." He slips the piece of metal onto your left ring finger; it doesn't fit that well, but you're honored to wear it.
Sam sits up, sliding off the counter. He stands at the edge of the island, pulling you towards him and wrapping your legs around his waist. He cups your head in both his hands and kisses you softly. "Wanna go to 'break in' the bathtub, Mrs. Rothstein?"
#sam ace rothstein#sam ace rothstein x reader#sam ace rothstein imagine#casino#Robert De Niro#robert de niro x reader#robert de niro fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction
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I posted 192 times in 2022
That's 192 more posts than 2021!
23 posts created (12%)
169 posts reblogged (88%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
meursaulty
extravalgant
wizzycore
stormbreaker101
I tagged 192 of my posts in 2022
#jackie rbs - 167 posts
#jackie posts - 25 posts
#wizard101 - 12 posts
#headcanons - 6 posts
#i love this sm - 3 posts
#these are so cute!! - 2 posts
#!!! - 2 posts
#omg this is beautiful!!! - 2 posts
#this is so cool - 2 posts
#asks - 2 posts
Longest Tag: 131 characters
#like trying to nurture something but like burning it all the time because your too passionate and your emotions get the best of you
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
playing a privateer is like spamming the buff button and then occasionally throwing bombs at the enemies
13 notes - Posted June 21, 2022
#4
Can you do myth and balance for the dual school pls ❤️❤️
sure thing!! im still currently obsessed with the idea so we're in this together <3
These wizards come across as standoffish and calculating most of the time. They’re glances being taken at face value. Almost like numbers are in their eyes. But if they looked deeper, if they looked to where they exactly are looking, they’d find a much simpler answer. They would find that they are looking for the exit. Constantly figuring out the fastest way out. Chasing the door because it’s the only thing that feels familiar to them. Like a child having to watch the horrors from afar.
They’re given the title of legendary very easily. Few and far in between while also being hard to get a hold of. Very akin to the same creatures and stories they study and learn over their lives. But would anyone know that they also wish to see the wonders? To be able to step out of the cave they were cornered in and to see the world through a different lens. Looking at the grassy hills and purple skies with joy and courage. Gazing at the starry sky, counting as many as they can thinking it’ll be the last.
Needless to say, they spend a lot of time in their head. Creating worlds and universes with encyclopedia entries down to even the different types of grasses. Inserting people into their lives they wish were there. Having people who they would love to talk to, becoming their friend. Annoyances becoming villains and them becoming the heroine with a sword and shield at the ready. Winning the day against the dragon queen with light and hope. A very bright future contrasting their dark look on life and the spiral.
If you were to get close to them, you might even see something different and strange compared to the rest of them. A warming feeling emanating off of them. A aura that feels like cashmere and beige, but dappled with gold and eccentricity. Something about them is so comforting and alluring. Yet so wild and unpredictable like a story half written. And you are the muse that finishes the last half. In color, or grayscale, depending on how you want this story to end.
17 notes - Posted April 18, 2022
#3
this is another addition of the dual schools post! its kind of a sadder one so to speak; but i hope its not too depressing!
the combo for this one is death + myth :]
How often do they mourn the loss of those who would fall quiet on your lips. A voice seeming not really their own, as if they’re speaking for someone else. They speak about them as if they were still here, as if you could give them a hug and know exactly what they were feeling. But it’s all just backlogs and memories stored too deep for anyone to look through. Pages so thick with dust they look double in size.
Catacombs and mausoleums becoming some of their favorite spots. Being able to talk with people who have a fear of being forgotten, and the wizard having the burden of being unforgettable. Cursed with knowledge they wouldn’t pass onto anyone else. A torch burning bright and hot just leaving you with burns and scars until it finally takes your body. Even in death you would be asked to help you think.
Somber is the best word to describe these wizards. Given the knowledge and sometimes weight of being the unknowns vessel. Being told to write a book on things no one else would understand. To understand a language so convoluted yet so clear to you. But they would write it, they would write 3 books if it meant someone else might start catching on. If they had to publish a lengthy series, they would do it. People need to know this; people need to at least feel this weight with them.
Once you finally see past them and their ‘gift’ do you see what they are. You will see someone who cares so deeply for everyone to be heard and understood. A child who just wanted to feel included and feel loved in their community. The question you should ask yourself is not if you should help them, but rather, why do you want to help them. Is it because you feel the need? Or maybe because it’s simply the right thing to do. Either way, only they will decide if you picked the right answer. For they are the speaker of the dead and the lost; they never needed to add your voice to their choir.
19 notes - Posted April 13, 2022
#2
i was very inspired by @t00thbox who made a post about the death school! they brought up some amazing points that got my brain going so I came up with this!!
the only warning I have is that there is mentions of bruises and cuts of sorts so beware of that!! otherwise enjoy!
For some people it’s hard for them to accept the give and take of the world. Fearful of the things that could be so easily taken away from us. Albeit a person, an object, an idea; whatever it is they would defend it with everything they have. Fighting until there’s dirt under their fingernails.
You would think the same thing looking at some of us. Wounds covering our body, lacerations and deep bruises seeming more common than any blemish or discoloration. Your thoughts may wander to the countless acts of selflessness that we acted upon. Shielding the weak with our bodies. Throwing up a banner of revolt and charging head first.
That would’ve been more heroic if that was true. In reality, we act as conduits. Siphoning our own soul so that someone else could achieve those same heroics we could never even dream of. Sparing no expense as long as it fills them with a sense of power and courage.
But at the end of the day, we all are bones. We return to the soil and ash we were molded from. Only our bones remain as our last eulogy is written in a tongue only our brethren can decipher. And as our caskets are lowered, only those of the same school may lower their heads in respect.
The duty of a necromancer is a long one. A journey that takes you down roads that have been long forgotten. But it is one of the more meaningful paths you’ll come across.
20 notes - Posted September 24, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
here’s a quick little blurb that I’ve been working on for a little bit now!! it was sparked by Val’s brilliant dual schools post 🖤
this post is about a fire + life school combination!
They’re extremely passionate people. Always wishing and pushing for a future that they hold dear in their heart. The same heart they wear on their sleeve. Beating loudly for anyone who wants to listen; to hear their song of love and loss. To the beat of their past experiences and what they hold fast to.
They have the same gentle touch that is known about life wizards, but there’s some depth to it. Instead of a soothing wave of calm washing over you it’s more of drive that comes from them. A sense of adrenaline surging through you like a forest set ablaze by not arson, but with purpose. You can stand up now with renewed vigor, not by usual means, but with valor knowing that no one else can complete this task but you now.
They’ve been known to be quite stubborn in their opinions and way of thinking. But they don’t mean to come across that way. They just believe so fully with their souls that it’s true. Believing is without seeing and without judgement.
23 notes - Posted April 12, 2022
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Amoreena | chapter eleven
chapter eleven
main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.
Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.
Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance
word count: 3K
from the beginning <3
June 13th, 2010
There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.
She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.
Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.
“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.
“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.
“Which one of them died?”
“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.
He would have been on next Saturday.
“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”
She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.
She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?
She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.
Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.
Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.
The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.
“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.
It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.
She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.
she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”
“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.
All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.
She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.
They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.
“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.
—
September 2012
This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…
“What do you mean you have cancer?”
Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”
Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.
“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”
She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”
“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.
Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.
Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.
Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.
—
June 14th, 2021
Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.
She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.
Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.
In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life
Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.
Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.
Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.
He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.
Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.
She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.
“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.
“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”
Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”
She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”
“Yeah?”
“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.
“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.
“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.
“How do we find out?”
She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.
“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”
Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.
Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”
“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.
“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.
Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”
Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.
“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.
“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”
“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.
“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.
“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.
She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.
“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”
“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”
Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”
“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”
Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”
“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.
"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.
She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.
“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”
Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”
Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.
And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.
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my favorite color is you (you keep me young and that’s how i wanna be)
was listening to ajr again today. thought about juke hugs. this happened.
SUPER fluffy, rated E for everyone, just sweetness.
title from sober up by ajr but seriously go listen to some ajr and maybe you’ll calm down. if you want ajr recs then hit me up because i have bars
Unspoken, tight-lipped secrets are some of the best ones. Especially when they involve illicit meetings to hold and be held by someone you love; especially when you get to tiptoe around your house at night with the thrill rushing through your veins that you are about to be greeted by your loved one’s smiling face.
Julie cannot quite recall how their midnight rendezvous snowballed into a beautiful sequence of reuniting every sundown, but she remembers the first night it happened. The fierce tug against her spinal cord that told her a teddy bear wasn’t enough to appease her craving for Luke’s touch.
Her dinosaur slippers silently sneak her down the stairs and out the front door. There’s no plan for what she wants to do - just, maybe, desperately, see him.
But when she opens the gate, he’s already in the driveway.
Her jaw slacks and her lips part - she should say something. Say hi. Ask why he’s up. Offer to write with him for awhile, since neither of them can sleep.
But Luke doesn’t say anything, and the pull grips her soul harder, and she finds herself stumbling down the concrete and latching her arms around his waist. A warm puff of air sinks through his shirt when she exhales because finally, the ache is gone. She knows what her soul wanted.
She just wanted him.
His arms are almost cradling her, they’re so sweet and snug around her. Julie doesn’t know how she goes through her day without feeling like this - warm and protected by someone who is made of air. When he’s pressed against her, it feels like she’s been made whole again. Like they are puzzle pieces finally put together.
Affectionately, she feels him lightly rub his cheek into the top of her hair. Getting closer and feeling her in every way he can. She smiles into his collar bone and hopes that it stamps into the skin. She wants both of them to remember this. She wants it to linger, to last.
After an unknown amount of time passes, their holds relax. Cold air flushes between them when it has the space to do so, and Julie is stammering out an awkward “thanks,” and he’s watching her walk away.
The gaze that drags over her path buzzes in her stomach so heatedly that she almost turns around and finds her way back into him.
But she charges ahead instead.
The next night goes the same way, but it feels completely different. Julie tries to make her hair as presentable as possible and puts on some cuter pajamas, and the pull whips at her gut, so she runs down the stairs as quietly and as quickly as possible.
Luke is there, once again, when she makes it through the gate.
And he poofs in front of her to pull her into a tight embrace without waiting for her to come to him.
“I was hoping you’d come back,” he whispers, and it’s so quiet that Julie doesn’t know if he realizes he said it. “I missed you.”
As she sighs, her body sinks into his embrace even more. “I missed you, too.”
The few words feel like they mean so much more.
I missed you.
I want you.
I love you.
In a repeat of the night before, they linger, they cuddle, and they part with longing stares and thrilling glances. The next morning, when Julie goes to hug the boys before leaving for school, her hold with Luke lasts just a fleeting moment longer than the others.
His fingertips trace up the curve of her spine as they pull away. Goosebumps ricochet off of her skin and the smirk that Luke gives her makes her blush like he’s just flirted in a secret language.
The secret language of touching.
Every night after, the same thing happens. Julie wishes her father a bashful goodnight and anxiously walks to her bedroom with a smile on her face, just waiting for her family members to retire. Instead of laying in her bed, she paces across her carpet and checks the clock every other second to see when it would be an appropriate time to go outside.
One night, the tug grabs her harder than other nights, and it occurs to her whether Luke can feel it too when he appears at the bottom of the porch stairs and not in the driveway. Like he was just as eager to see her, to hold her.
She’s struck so hard with wanting that she launches herself off of the second step of the porch and jumps into his awaiting arms. He isn’t phased at all - just laughing, deep and velvet, in her ear and spinning them around to get her feet onto the cobblestones.
Urges for him to be quiet are lost in her smile. She feels home again.
Sometimes, when Flynn pokes at her over her crush on Luke, Julie almost spills everything. How every night she spends an ungodly amount of time wrapped up in him, because the fact that they can touch is a miracle in itself and all that they want to to is press into each other and wait for the universe to take the ability to feel away from them.
But she doesn’t tell anyone. Luke doesn’t tell the guys, Julie doesn’t tell Flynn or her family, and they keep sneaking around with mischievous glimmers in their eyes like they are doing something they shouldn’t.
Her dad actually almost catches them on a particular occasion that involved Luke brushing against a particularly ticklish spot and their laughter becomes too loud for it not to rouse Ray.
“Mija, why are you out here so late?”’
She jumps away from Luke so quickly that her heart nearly stops beating, but Luke won’t allow it. Even though she’s facing her dad, Luke encompasses his arms around her waist from behind her, and holds himself close.
Julie barely stutters out enough to convince her dad that nothing is wrong; something about a noise coming from the bushes and many repetitions of “I’m fine!”
Some days, though, are harder than others.
One night, Julie doesn't sprint down the staircase. She doesn't run out of the door and smile like a lovesick idiot, and she doesn't even really feel like getting out of bed at all.
But Luke would notice. And she doesn't want to fuck this up.
So she trudges out of bed, and she goes.
They don't normally greet each other or anything special; they usually stick to small smiles and strong grips. Tonight, Julie can't even muster a smile as Luke grins blindingly at her - the joy draining from his face when the tear stains on her face reflect in the light.
"Julie," he whispers, poofing to stand right in front of her at the gate. "Jules, what's wrong?"
Tears well. She can't speak. She doesn't want to speak, she doesn't know what she would say.
When she doesn't answer, Luke does the only thing either of them went there for: He hugs her.
A damn breaks.
She cries freely, and his hands create parallel lines up and down her back, and there are tears all over his shirt but that is the last thing that either of them are thinking about.
Why she's crying - there's a thousand reasons and no reason at all. Too much happened at dinner for her to articulate one clear reason. It's like a wheel of colors, where they all come together to make white. You can't just start picking colors out of the white again - once they're there, they're there. All mixed together. One unit.
The white is making her cry.
But now, blue is filling her senses, her emotions, her body - it drowns the white until there's no white left. Her fingers claw against his shirt as if they can soak up more of the blue, more of Luke, more of something that can cry the tears and make the white go away. Blue is her new favorite color, because it’s making the bad things go away.
That night, they hug the longest they've ever held each other out of all of these nights.
Luke has his own night like this, even though Julie is pretty sure he has more sound reasoning for his breakdown in that it starts with Trevor Wilson and ends with Emily and Mitch Patterson. But she’s content to dig her fingers into his back until he stops shaking underneath her, and do everything humanly possible to assure him that he deserves the world and everything in between.
He holds onto her because he needs her. Because she is his source of love and reassurance and something that he hasn’t messed up.
She holds onto him because she needs him. He is her source of passion and affection and someone who completes her in a way that a ghost shouldn’t be able to do, but he can.
Every touch is loving. Every embrace is treated as the last.
Every meeting is secret - and they want it that way. Their love doesn’t need to be shared with anyone else.
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