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bu-blegh-ost · 5 months

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A short essay about how Caspian is mathematically not a mole (ep. 115 spoilers) (and for the whole series for that matter)

Okay, alright guys, I saw your concerns. I saw it all, and you are right to be worried that your favourite blue wet man's blue and equally wet best friend may turn out to be a traitor. And so am I, trust me. Which is why I went through every single bit of Caspian's past I could dig out to create an unltimate timeline of his entire goddamn life to see it it'd be plausible for him to become a mole at any point in time and ultimately prove his innocence! If that's something you're interested in reading, then buckle up!

"Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones. This is totally seperate from the Black-Ops situation that you learned about in the Stronghold. And you, in this book, can tell that there is a plant on Lizzie's crew."

This, of course is something I need to point out first. Whoever Lizzie's mole might be, they are not a doppelganger. They are not a clone, or Black-Ops, just a solider of the Navy, a person that must have gotten into the Navy via regular recruitment, be trained by them and then put into a spy division. Jay ofc had this entire process sped up, due to her grandma's influence, but no one other than her, especially an Undersea citizen, who would probably have to put in extra effort to be trusted given their shaky political situation few years back, would get the same treatment. What I'm trying to say, Caspian would need time, at least few years of training to become a mole they'd trust to infiltrate a crew, and not just any crew might I add. More on that later. Let's go back to his most early years for now. This is a fragment of episode 84 in which Caspian talks to Gillion abt his early life:

C: We all have family. I consider my life up here, this crew to be my found family. But my previous…tribe with the water genasi in the Undersea, where I was growing up…sort of in a [illegible]... remember me telling you about the outskirts? We um…was very nomadic, quite a, quite a peaceful, tranquil life, but it was always, you know…mixed with this life of poverty and my family wasn’t very…wouldn’t really have much but the water around us, and each other, I suppose, so uh…You know...I mean my mother didn’t make it past old age, and uh…

G: I’m sorry…

C: When my sister left the tribe, my father sort of fell into a depression of sorts and he stopped moving around. And when we stayed in one place, I was 18 or so, maybe 16, it was a while ago, and then…that’s when I left as well. Ventured to the Oversea, and um…and it’s history, so that’s my family. Not sure what they’re up to these days, I mean…I know my sister went to the capital, where you were.

G: Pirating is a pretty lucrative business, maybe if…we managed to find them or run into them, we can give something back, put them in a better situation.

C: …Well um…I mean this was 10-15, 10 to 12 to 15 years ago, quite some, quite some time, so I don’t even know if my father is alive still, I mean I don’t really have the desire to go back to the undersea, Gill.

G: Wha-why not?

C: Because I like my life up here. This is where I’m happy.

So, before we go to what all of that entails, one more quick crazy thing to mention: so, Caspian's sister is an Elder of the Undersea. Like for sure. This is confirmed by this part from ep. 79:

The Triton who you remember as the Elder Odolaf, who looks like he is about to speak, but is cut off by the water genasi, who has been doing a lot of talking thus far, who is Elder Celeste. They stand up and there is a familiarity that you notice now in their face. It’s like you have met them before, but not in the way that you know them because they are the Elder, but in a way that it’s like, they look like somebody you know. And she has sort of these uh, white tied-up like dreads that are tied up in like a bun and they come across the face and then one side is shaved. And there are beads and piercings in her hair, her ears are a little bit more sea elf-like in the way that they are pointed and they kind of like gradient into pink. They all kind of wear the same sort of ornate robes, though hers is more, I guess faded and like cut a bit, look a bit more warriorous, or like tribal, but still very well-made and professional.

Tribal clothing, a water genasi, that looks like someone Gillion saw before in the face. The only water genasi Gillion met after leaving the Undersea is Caspian. Elder Celeste is Caspian's sister. Wild. Anyway, not what we're here for, but I needed to mention that.

The crazier thing is that Caspian left to Oversea when he was 16-18, and it has been 10-15 years since then. That means Caspian is currently 26 at possible youngest, and 33 at his oldest, which was surprising to me, I did not imagine Caspian as a man in his 30s! But that's straight up facts, so holy shit, you know?

Okay, so I'm going to list a lot of small facts that determine a lot of ages in quick succession. I hope it's not gonna be too scary to look at, I'll simplify it all at the end. [Deep inhale]

Right now Gillion is 22. So when Caspian left the Undersea, Gillion was 12-7. Jay is 21 and Ava was 2 years older, same age as Lizzie. So Lizzie is 23 now. When Caspian left the Undersea, she was 13-8. Chip is 19, so Lizzie is 4 years older. Hole in the Sea happened when Chip was 9, so Lizzie was 13. So Caspian left the Undersea around the same time Lizzie crashed on the uninhabited island with Chey after the Hole.

It's a lot, I know, I know. So let me clear this up a little.

Hole in the sea was 10 years ago. Chip was 9, Lizzie was 13. 10 years ago Caspian was in the age between 16 and 23, and he left the Undersea when he was 16 or 18. So roughly at the same time the Black Sea happened, Caspian came to the surface for the first time.

(also pls note that we are talking in estimates, casue in ep. 36 Lizzie says she was 11 when the hole happened, but in ep. 101 she says she was the same age as Ava which by the power of math would put her at 13. Either way, somewhere around that age)

After that, Lizzie spend some time on an uninhabited island with Chey, the Black Rose cook, who sacrificed herself for Liz, so she could survive and died shortly after. We do not know how much time passed, but I assume no longer than few months, and after that she was saved by Captain Shadowbeard where she met Caspian. They were a part of Shadowbeard's crew, Caspian saved her from the massacre where Shadowbeard was killed, and then Lizzie went on to create her own crew, Grandberry Pirates with Caspian never leaving her for a second since he met her. That means that the only time Caspian could have joined the Navy would be RIGHT after he came to the Oversea for the first time, roughly at the same time Lizzie was stranded on an island, and in that short period of time (between Lizzie's crash on the island and her being found by Shadowbeard) he would have to find the time to be trusted and accepted by Navy, get trained specifically for infiltration AND infiltrate not anyones BUT FUCKING SHADOWBEARD'S SHIP. Not a NEW crew. A crew of one of the most legendary pirates on the sea. Cause before Lizzie, Caspian was Sadowbeard's crew member, and since then he never stopped being a pirate, so if he was a solider, he would have had to be one before Shadowbeard. And remeber what Grizzly said in 115: "Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones."

Shadowbeard was not new. Not upcoming. He was dangerous and Navy must have had the balls of steal to send a rookie solider, which Caspian would have been at that point in time, to infiltrate him. The numbers say it's impossible. Guys, the numbers! They don't add up!

Anyway, so basically Caspian could not be a mole. He is not a new pirate, he was not a member of a fresh crew, becaue his pirate journey did not start with Lizzy, it started with Shadowbeard. Grandberry Pirates is a new crew, but Caspian is not a newbie in it. You know who is? Rudith. I mean what kind of doctor lets a bunch of rowdy pirates have a secret base under a place where sick and vulnerable rest??? Like ANY other place would have been better and more respectful! Also you know what's interesting? Gillion could heal these people with lay on hands easily, and yet the only thing Rudith did for them was give them potions that didn't seem to help and look after them on purely non-medical level. Bro didn't do shit. Like, why would you even become a doctor without having access to healing magic? The answer, you are not. You are a Navy solider in disguise.

Okay, okay, I'm done, that's all. If you got this far, you are a hero, thank you for reading this insanely long ramble, but that's kind of the conclusions that I came to, of course, any counter-theories and discussion in general is very much welcome! I'd love to hear your opinions! Love you guys, bye~

#jrwi riptide #just roll with it #jrwi #gillion jrwi #gillion tidestrider #caspian jrwi #jrwi caspian #elizabeth lafayette #lizzie jrwi #riptide spoilers #spoilers #jrwi spoilers

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moviecritc · 11 days

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hii ! i was wondering if i could request a fanfic about Max verstappen and y/n —or you can give her a name UR CHOICE :) — anyways could you possibly follow the lines of them being complete strangers meeting in the Mexico GP, to becoming friends, then later on being lovers.

I’m not sure if you like to write sad stories but could you also possibly make a sad ending where towards the end they break up and whenever they are around eachother they act like complete strangers

Hopefully you take my request :) it was mainly inspired by a song called “strange” by Celeste !

Thank youuu !!

fortnight ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reporter!reader

word count: 2.7K

warnings: bad boyfriend behaviour, angst (sort of)

a/n: it took me so long finishing this, and im not fully convinced with the result :( i also changed things a bit. anyways i loved the whole vibe, so maybe i write something similar soon

also this ended up giving massive fortnight by t swift vibes so i named it bc of that

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

They were made for each other, or at least that's what everyone said. They had their first encounter at the Mexican Grand Prix. Y/N had been working as a reporter and interviewer for the races all season, but she had never had the chance to interview Max.

Mexico must have been one of Y/N's favorite places, all the culture, food, and people made her feel very welcomed. The race week in Mexico was the one she felt most nostalgic about once the season was over.

She arrived at the airport on Tuesday or Wednesday, she didn't quite remember, the only thing she remembered about her arrival in Mexico was the jet lag and that instead of grabbing her suitcase, she took Max Verstappen's.

She had always felt a certain intimidation towards him, by his way of driving and treating his teammates on the track. So, she was terrified to have to contact him. Surprisingly, it was Max who contacted her.

He called a few hours after she arrived at the hotel, she still wondered how he got her phone number and her name.

"Y/N L/N?" he asked. She recognized the voice and took a few seconds to process it. "I'm Max. I think I have your suitcase."

"Hello, yes. Uh, I think I have your suitcase too," She scratched her neck a bit.

"Ah, fantastic. Are you free now to exchange them?"

"Sure, yeah. Where?"

"I can come to your hotel, I don't want to cause you too much trouble," Max commented in a calm tone. That seemed like a super sweet gesture coming from him.

"Alright, I'll send you the location, come whenever you can," And they hung up.

Y/N was quite impressed by how nice Max had been, and that it was him who contacted her and offered to go to the hotel, even though she was the one who took the wrong suitcase.

Literally five minutes later they called her room phone, telling her that someone was asking for her. She went down with the suitcase immediately, meeting the pilot and his suitcase.

Max waved his hand a bit so she would know it was him, although Y/N knew perfectly well who he was. Max observed her, she had brown hair with lighter tips than the rest of her hair, probably from dyeing it in the past, and quite long curtain bangs. Somehow her face looked familiar to him, as if he had seen her before, but at the same time not.

"Hey, here you go," Y/N handed him the suitcase and they made the exchange. "I'm really sorry for the trouble, really, I didn't even realize it wasn't my suitcase,"

"It's okay, don't worry. Did you open the suitcase?" He slightly bit his lip.

"Well, yes. But I only saw the eight or nine Red Bull shirts, I realized it wasn't my suitcase," she said, smiling.

That made Max laugh. "Are you here for the race?"

"Well, yes, I'm a reporter for DAZN," Y/N nodded.

Max raised his chin a bit, understanding why the brunette looked so familiar. He looked around and then at his watch. "Are you busy now?"

Y/N blinked, was he…?

"No, not now," she pressed her lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Can I invite you for a coffee?" he smiled shyly.

"Oh," Y/N pondered for a few seconds what to tell him.

"If not, don't worry," Max spoke. Maybe she had been thinking about the answer for too long.

"No, of course. I'd love to,"

Was it a strange start? Yes. But only that afternoon they connected in such a strange way that it scared them. Y/N had two Siamese cats, Max had two Bengal cats. He spent hours on the sim, she could spend hours watching the same series, which wasn’t exactly the same, but close. They both supported FC Barcelona and the most surprising thing was that she had been on exchange in the Netherlands, at the same school Max was attending. The only thing was that he barely went to classes because he was going from championship to championship.

That afternoon it felt as if someone had made them meet, because it was too much of a coincidence to find someone so similar to you because of one suitcase.

"Will I see you in the paddock tomorrow?" Max asked, as they were saying goodbye.

"I hope so,"

"Stop by the Red Bull garage if you have time,"

Y/N nodded and bit her lip, still unable to believe the instant connection she had with Max. She even forgot she had terrible jet lag. At no point did she consider that this could end badly.

…

At the Brazil Grand Prix, they were already sharing a hotel room. Nobody knew yet that they were together so they could come and go as they pleased. Y/N was still a reporter for DAZN, although now that she spent so much time with Max her reports started to be shorter and with fewer details. She barely paid attention to the races, she stayed near the Red Bull garage, trying to see him when he entered the pits.

By that time, Y/N realized that maybe she was spending too much time with Max. In just those two weeks, Max had been pivoting between the sim and the hotel bed. At first, he said nice things to her and stayed with her for a while, asking her what she had been doing or what movie she was going to watch now. But the last time, he dressed immediately and went back to the sim.

Y/N even remembered how well they had connected and how comfortable she had felt, although it had only been fourteen days ago. She didn't even think about confronting him, after all, they were nothing, they never were.

Why? A serious relationship would only take up time that he could use for much more productive things for his career. That was better, even if it made the brunette feel as if he only wanted to satisfy himself with her.

"Max, it's late and I'm hungry, what if we go out for dinner?" Y/N entered her room where he had all the set up, it was the first time she saw it and she thought it was crazy that Max had all those screens, all those gadgets just to pretend to drive.

"I can't now, schat," he said, moving his hand a bit to try to make physical contact with her, but he didn't manage to because he didn't take his eyes off the screen.

"Well, remember we have the flight to Las Vegas tomorrow at noon. Come to bed soon," Y/N commented, looking at his crown.

She fell asleep before feeling Max's weight on the bed.

She didn't know why, but she really thought that in Vegas something would change, maybe because of the atmosphere or because it was the last races, maybe he would be slightly more relaxed now that he had practically won the championship. She even thought they would enter the paddock together, that she would have a fixed spot in the Red Bull garage or something, but a minimum of recognition from him towards her.

But it was quite the opposite. Max didn't show up in the paddock until Thursday afternoon while she had to be there since Tuesday. He made her take the plane alone and he didn't even text her when he landed. She had to find out he was already in Las Vegas when she saw him passing by her in the paddock and Y/N made a gesture to greet him, smile at him or make a simple gesture, but Max passed by without even looking at her.

That's when she realized she would have to confront him. He was behaving like a complete jerk, and Y/N was sure she wasn't the first woman who got fed up with him for that.

With a couple of calls and several messages, she managed to find out the hotel and the room where Max was staying. After a day full of interviews, Y/N went straight to the hotel address, knocking on his door.

"Hey, hello," he said, already in his pajamas and with a tired look. "I was thinking about you."

"Oh, me too," Seeing Max's hand on her waist, Y/N pulled away from him immediately.

Max raised his eyebrows at once, surprised by the abruptness of the brunette. "Are you alright?"

Y/N lowered her gaze slightly, choosing her words. Suddenly she was more than nervous to say something. "What… what are we?"

"In what sense?" he asked cautiously. He thought it was too soon for that conversation.

"What sense is it going to be?" she approached, realizing that Max probably was just a man like the rest, who had an unjustified fear of naming relationships.

"Uh," he said. Y/N blinked, waiting for a more complete sentence. "Do you want to make it public or something?"

Y/N ignored the 'or something', sticking only to the first words. She smiled a little, getting closer to Max.

"Is that what you want?" He asked again, putting his hands on her waist now that she let him.

"I would like that, yes," she nodded, before Max gave her a quick kiss. "You've been leaving me hanging for a few days."

"Schat, you know I have to train and prepare for the races," Max insisted, sliding his hands much lower than her waist.

Y/N was going to say something, but Max caught her lips and didn't let go until he felt satisfied.

On Friday they arrived together at the paddock, attracting attention from the media. They didn't talk much, she was afraid they would read her lips.

Y/N had to go with her team to interview the Ferrari team and they kissed in front of a couple of cameras as a goodbye. The image went viral in minutes. After finishing the interviews, she received a couple of comments from people around the paddock about how lucky Max was to have found her.

Y/N couldn't understand how he was the lucky one. After all, she was the one with the Formula 1 star pilot. She got on Twitter, seeing how several users commented on how amazing she was, how she had managed to make a name for herself in motorsport, how sweet and funny people found her, Y/N would never in her life use "funny" as an adjective to describe herself. And the best part, that Max should feel more than lucky to have her. That they made a practically perfect couple, that they coordinated super well. Just a few steps in the paddock had made them the couple of the moment. The example to follow.

Max won that race and jumped into her arms when he got out of the car, giving her a strong wet kiss in a very unsexy way. That totally took Y/N by surprise, she couldn't believe his first thought after winning was her. Who knows which of his PR team told him to do that.

"I'll see you in a few hours, wait for me in the hotel room," Max told her, kissing her cheek.

"Max, I also work here. I have to do interviews," she reminded him, with a somewhat serious look.

"Ah, alright,"

"Let me know when you're done," Y/N turned without saying or doing anything else.

She worked until late at night without being able to get out of her head that she and Max had progressed so much in the relationship that they had skipped all the really good parts, the honeymoon phase. And this time it had been her fault, it had been her idea to make it public maybe too soon.

She arrived at Max's room, which was dimly lit and cold. She took a long shower, still wondering what she should do now that their relationship wasn't working out at all.

When she came out of the shower, with wet hair and pajamas on, she found Max lying on the bed, sliding his finger over the screen of his cell phone.

"The shower is free now, were you waiting for long?" Y/N spoke, tilting her head slightly.

"I'm already showered, I was waiting for you," Max admitted with a sweet look.

"Oh," she said. "You didn't have to, I'm sure you're tired,"

Y/N walked cautiously to the free side of the bed, because they hadn't even talked about their sides of the bed. Max got up and changed his clothes, Y/N remembered how good shape Max was in and how good he was in bed as he was with the car. She discreetly bit her lip.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Max mentioned as he sat down next to her, giving Y/N goosebumps. "Did you see that people adore us?" Max hugged her by the shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N let out a sustained thread of air in her lungs and smiled. "Yes," It seemed strange to Max that that was the only thing that came out of Y/N's mouth. "Is that a good thing, isn't it?" he asked, now somewhat confused. "Of course, someone should."

Max blinked, now separating from her body so he could see her well. "What do you mean by that?"

"Since we don't adore each other," she mentioned, as if by chance.

"What do you mean by that?" Max asked, having no idea what Y/N was saying.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. She wondered how someone couldn't realize something so simple.

"Forget it, Max," she fixed, getting comfortable in bed. "I'm tired."

"Wait, let's talk," he insisted, getting closer to her, with a worried look.

Y/N clicked her tongue, sitting up on the pillow. "Do you like me?"

"Of course, you're beautiful and attentive and intelligent. Why wouldn't I like you?"

That made her heart shrink a bit. "But do you see me as something lasting?"

Max thought about his answer. No. "I don't know,"

That was enough for Y/N to know the real answer, she clicked her tongue and moved slightly away from him.

"Y/N, you have to understand that I have a complicated job and…"

"For God's sake, Max, we both work in the same field. If you want to blame the distance or something like that, it won't work," Y/N denied, biting her cheek with anger.

Max pressed his lips, trying to hide that that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I think I better leave," Y/N commented, pulling the sheets.

Max saw all her movements, from when she got up until she picked up her things and left through the door. Y/N still somehow hoped he would say something, but Max didn't even move. He simply waited for her to leave so he could lie down and go to sleep.

Y/N didn't cry, she didn't even consider it. It had been a short time and there was no need to waste time thinking about what could have happened. For God's sake, she didn't even know if it had been a real relationship.

It had started perfectly but had been declining just a few days after they met.

In the last Grand Prix, Y/N was with her team most of the time, writing columns for DAZN's website report and preparing questions for her colleagues' interviews.

"Y/N, here are the questions for Max's interviews," her colleague said.

"Huh?"

"Everyone wants you to interview Max, for obvious reasons," he nodded, as if it were totally normal.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Y/N mentioned, making a face.

"Y/N, he and everyone else are waiting for the interview," he insisted, nodding his head behind his back. Y/N turned discreetly, observing Max leaning against a wall, trying so hard not to look at her.

"Fuck," she muttered with a soft frown. "Ok, let's do this quick,"

She standed up with a bored and sick stare, there was Red Bull's engineers everywhere and even people taking pictures of her.

"Hey," he greeted her as she approached.

"Let's get this over with quickly, okay?" she nodded.

"Try not to be too harsh, people still think we're together," Max commented.

Y/N's gaze hardened. "I'll do whatever I want, Max," she clenched her jaw and gave the cameraman a nod to start broadcasting the interview.

#max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #noraverse 🫧#formula 1 one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen angst #mv1 #mv33 #mv1 x reader

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

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how people can change

steve harrington x gn!byers!reader

word count: 4,427

warnings: swearing, like one use of y/n, mentions of season one steve's bullshit, mentions of death, enemies to friends to more type beat

a/n: my very first *full* steve fic. look at us. who woulda thought? not me. i've been working on this since february. don't look at me, i know. i know. but i think i've gotten some sort of hold on how i'd like to write steve. some of the dialogue (season 2) isn’t mine. (also the title is a lyric from strange by celeste!) let me know what you think, okay? i love you. steve loves you. don't tell me if it's bad.

————

November 1984

The door slams behind you with a deafening thud, and you take the extra five seconds to lock it. You know, that action no one else in your family seems to be capable of performing.

The house is quiet, and you step over the map of Hawkins sprawling over the hardwoods, careful not to damage Will’s work.

Your keys clang against the table, knocking into your mother’s ashtray. It’s dead quiet again, and you freeze at a subtle interruption in the silence. There’s a muffled sound coming from somewhere else in your home, and frankly you’ve had enough of everything the last couple of days. Which is why Joyce sent you home to get some sleep, to clear your head.

There’s no denying that you have a soft spot for Will. He’s always been your buddy. And you love Jonathan, you do, and he’s got this sick ability to know what you’re thinking or feeling before you do, but he doesn’t need your protection like Will does.

Will is your best friend. And he’s got one hell of a support system with you, Jonathan and your mom behind him. He deserves the world. You’ve always thought that.

You quickly infer that it’s a walkie making the sound, based on the staticky crackle, the slightly muffled voice of whoever’s trying to get through from the other side.

Yours is off—you know it is—so it has to be Will’s. Jonathan was too good for a walkie-talkie.

You step down the hallway, pushing your younger brother’s bedroom door the rest of the way open. You scan the small area for it, listening.

“Code red! This is a code red! I repeat, this is a good red! Shit, is anyone there?”

You snatch up the device, extending the antenna.

“Dustin? Is that you?”

“Jesus christ! Where have you been?” Dustin exclaims, and you swear you can hear someone else interfering with his words.

“Sorry! I wasn’t home. What’s wrong?” You sit on the edge of Will’s bed. It’s so much comfier than yours.

“It’s Dart! He’s, he’s just…you know what? It’s a long story. Where are you right now?”

This time you definitely hear another voice, and maybe even music.

“Dart? You kept him, right? I fucking knew it, Henderson! You’re so not a good liar.”

“That’s for sure.” You can’t place the voice, not over the walkie and over Dustin’s rambling, but you do catch that and it’s enough to leave you curious.

The boy starts to argue back, but you cut him off. “Dustin, who are you with?”

“Uh,” he coughs, “Well you see, um…Steve Harrington. I’m with Steve Harrington.”

Dustin gets a severe eye roll from said partner-in-crime, but he brushes it off.

“What?” You’re so confused. How did that even happen?

“I know! But everyone’s been MIA!”

“Oh my god,” you say, and Dustin can practically see you face-palming.

“Look,” he shoves a handful of rogue curls back under the brim of his hat. “Can you just meet up with us? The old junkyard?”

You push off of Will’s bed, and start walking through the house again, retrieving your things. So much for a nap or eating anything other than hospital Jell-O. What are you gonna say? Fuck no?

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank god,” Dustin breathes. “See you then. Over.”

You make sure to check the batteries in Will’s walkie before you go, and then you’re back in your car again, backing out just as aggressively as your mother (something you said you’d never do).

————

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass you’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Dustin goes quiet for a minute, watching each step he takes. The train tracks are old, and there are one too many loose nails for his liking. “So what’s Y/N got against you, man?”

Steve adjusts one of the gloves he’s wearing, trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna smell like raw meat for who knows how long. “Uh, I don’t know, exactly. Never really talked to them before. But I’d assume it’s the–”

“The assholery?” Dustin interrupts.

“Dude.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, yeah, you’re right.”

Dustin catches the slip in Steve’s attitude almost immediately. “Hey, they’re good, okay? I don’t think you’re a total dick, if that means anything. You’re trying and that’s what matters, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Henderson.”

Dustin gives Steve a winning smile. This kid could rule the world, he thinks.

“Anytime,” Harrington. He lifts his hand up, awaiting a fist bump that Steve returns without a second thought.

————

You wander down the trail of raw meat you’ve found, not bothering to even question what's happening or where the meat came from. Frankly, you don’t really want to know.

At the end of your path, you catch a glimpse of familiar curls, even if they are crushed under the red brim of a hat.

“Dustin?”

The boy practically gives himself whiplash turning around to face you.

“Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be nice to have someone older than me who’s not a total pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

The voice pulls your attention away from Dustin. When you look up, Steve Harrington is walking out of the biggest vehicle in this abandoned lot: a school bus. He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and pushing the ends of his sleeves up.

Dustin looks at you. “You guys have to be acquaintances at the least, right?”

You nod at him, feeling your face burn. If there’s a word for a less-than-acquaintance, you don’t know it. But that’s probably where your relationship with this boy lies. King Steve isn’t really someone you just miss.

But yeah, you know him. You know he’s a dick.

“Hi.” Steve pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and crosses his arms.

“Hi.”

You only look at him for a moment before your eyes are back on Dustin. The younger boy notices the tension radiating from you, and honestly, he gets it. Steve Harrington wasn’t exactly the person he’d planned on spending his day with, but here he was. Desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever.

“So what are we doing?” You ask.

Dustin puts his thumbs underneath the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “It’s a long story. Best if we talk while we work.”

You roll your eyes at him, but follow the thirteen-year-old wherever he wants to go. You’re not sure you could deny Dustin Henderson anything.

————

You watch as Max, a young girl you’ve just met, stomps up the steps of the ladder you’ve rigged inside the mess of a bus that you’re camped out in.

Your chest aches because what Dustin just said to her was rude, it was rude, and you can’t believe the two of them. You sit, arms crossed and leg shaking up and down, glaring at Steve.

You find it hard to believe that after everything you’ve learned tonight, about Dart, about Mews—which you’re never going to get over because you only visit Dustin’s house for his cat, never him—that this is what they’re doing now.

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Just show her you don’t care.”

Dustin is pacing, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t,” he breathes.

Steve winks. Watching the two of them is like watching a tennis match. You don’t even like tennis.

“Why are you winking, Steve?”

You drag your hand down your face, sick of hearing this stupid ass conversation. When Dustin sits, the constant clink of metal where Steve keeps flicking his lighter open over and over starts to give you a headache.

“Fuck, Steve, would you quit it already?”

He scoffs, snapping the lid to his Zippo closed harder than he had been before. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re pissing me off, that’s my problem.”

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t really understand the sudden need for aggression.

“Is this really the time for you to be yelling at me?”

“Is this really the time for you to be a dick?”

Dustin jerks the antenna on his walkie down, clearly sick of the two of you. “Would you children stop bickering? This is a life or death situation we have going on here.”

“I’d prefer death,” you proclaim.

Dustin glares at you. “I can arrange that if you’d really rather die, than act civil for one evening.”

“I think all of the civility,” you gesture vaguely with your hands, “went out the window when you asked me to come help fight demo-dogs.”

Steve snorts at your words, and you glare at him, an “oh, is that funny?” look on your face.

Dustin rearranges the hat on his head, stuffing his curls underneath it once again. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on our status, you two…work shit out, okay?”

“Dude,” Steve starts, “I’m older than you. I don’t have to listen to your instructions.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

Dustin flips him off, and that’s the only response Steve receives, leaving the two of you alone in the bus.

You remain quiet, hoping that if you do you might just disappear or dissolve into the cracked leather of the seat you're sitting on. Then there really wouldn’t be any form of confrontation.

Steve starts flipping the lid to his Zippo open and shut repeatedly again, but this time it doesn’t annoy you. In fact, it gives you something to focus on, and you know that if you had one you’d be doing the same exact thing.

You wonder if he’s nervous. Or just bored.

Your knee begins to bounce when you realize that he’s looking at you, that he’s stopped messing with the lighter. But you refuse to look back, staring instead at the way the moonlight glints off of the metal in between his fingers.

“So what’s your problem with me?”

The way Steve says those words is so unlike the way he’s spoken the rest of the day, the way he’s behaved with Dustin, that you feel a pang in your chest.

He sounds like he used to.

“Did you even hear that? How conceded you just sounded? Like it’s funny that I might have a problem with you, king Steve?”

Obviously the use of his nickname hits a nerve. He shoves the lighter back into his pocket and sits up, tucking his hands under his knees.

“Would you just cut the shit and tell me what your problem is then?”

You sit up, matching his stance. There’s a part of you that wants to piss him off. You ache for it.

“You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

Steve scoffs.

“That’s it? Like I don’t already know that?”

You roll your eyes, oblivious to the fact that all three of the younger kids you’re with have their heads hung over the escape latch in the top of the bus, listening eagerly.

“You think I’m just gonna put up with you, Harrington? I’m sorry, did you forget the slut shaming you and your shitty friends did publicly last fall? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t forget that you walk around like you fucking own the entirety of Hawkins because you’re swimming in daddy’s money. I didn’t forget that your girlfriend took my best friend away from me.”

You stop, and Steve just looks at you. You realize how heavy you’re breathing and subconsciously watch the steady movement of his chest, trying to match the pace and calm down. You hadn’t meant to get worked up like that. But sometimes…sometimes shit just happens.

Steve sighs. Honestly he feels a little sick. And he could argue with you some more, say that you don’t know what you’re talking about, that that’s the past, that he’s getting better. But that feels shallow. It feels meaningless. Because he knows it’s true. That in worrying about only himself or getting the girl or impressing whoever, he hurt loads more people than he realized.

It’s such bullshit, he thinks. This life he’s been living.

“You know, I’ve gotten plenty of earfuls about my actions from Dustin, I promise you that much. He can be very mean.”

You snort, considering there’s absolutely no denying that. “He’s a smart kid.”

Steve nods. He’s trying to think of a way to respond. He’s not good with words.

“Look, I-I know I’m a dick, okay?” he starts. You decide to be brave and look at him. He seems to like that. The eye contact. It’s like it lets him know you’re paying attention. He doesn’t get a lot of that, not away from school.

“The thing with Nancy,” he gestures with his hands, looking away from you and at the wall of the bus, like it hurts him to talk about or something. “I don’t know. My solution to not getting what I wanted was apparently to take it out on her. Tommy H. proposed the idea, and I didn’t stop it.”

“You know I cleaned it off, right?” he continues.

You uncross your arms and sit up, criss crossing your legs instead. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I broadcasted the information across Hawkins. Tommy and Carol don’t even know.”

Oh. The fact that they didn’t know tells you that he did it without needed recognition. He did it because he wanted to.

“I just—she saw it. And then there was the whole thing…”

You start to grin before you catch yourself, but he sees it.

“It’s okay, you can laugh. I got the shit beat out of me.”

“You deserved it.”

He can’t argue with that. He won’t argue with it. “You’re right. I did. I said and did a lot that day that I regret.”

You nod, and then you’re both just looking at one another. It’s quiet out here, the same quiet you get at home, where you can hear the crickets, where you know there will be lightning bugs in the warmer months, free to roam uninterrupted by human activity.

Steve pushes his hair from his forehead, and though he sees you track the movement of his hand, he doesn’t point it out.

“What did you mean about your friend?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you hadn’t intended for that to come out, but being in such close proximity to Steve in this moment had just made everything spill out.

You try to wave him off. “That was a whole thing. I didn’t mean to spill my guts like that.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to know. If you want to tell me, that is.”

You nod, chewing at your thumb nail now. Steve has the urge to reach forward and pull it free so you won’t hurt yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead he stays still and quiet, watching you contemplate a while.

Eventually he decides to keep going.

“I’m trying, you know,” he tells you. You look up and it gives him that little push to continue speaking. “To be better. I know you think I’m a total dick, and you’re not wrong, I know that, but I really am trying to be better. To be a good influence on those little shits.” He quirks his head upwards where he knows all three of his charges are eavesdropping, without a doubt.

You take a second and look at him. Really look at him. He seems to carry himself differently, though it’s not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking. He’s not dressed like his mommy picked out his outfit. He looks messy. The mess draws you in.

“I believe you. And I-I know I shouldn’t stereotype you, but it’s just—”

“I am a walking stereotype,” Steve grins. So do you.

“Yeah. I guess so. But I believe that you’re working on it. I suppose some people don’t remain assholes forever.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, though a little distracted. You still haven’t told you what you meant, but that’s not what’s really bugging him.

There’s this pull inside him. This longing for a friend. A real friend. Not someone he knows just because their dads were up each other's asses, or someone he just sits with at lunch because they’re of the same status quo.

And he just feels so alone right now. What with Nancy, this girl he thought he was in love with and everything, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same. What’s he even supposed to do with that? Did he ever actually know anything about her?

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that he’s sitting here with you, hanging out with thirteen-year-olds and hiding from creatures Steve’s brain can’t even begin to decipher.

“Barb,” you say. Steve panicked a little internally at the mention of her name, considering. But he keeps his eyes on you, focused on each word that leaves your mouth. “She was my best friend, in middle school that is.”

He nods. Oh. Oh.

“We were still close when we got to high school, had a little group and everything, right? And even though high school kinda fucks everything up, I didn’t want to believe that would happen to our little partnership, you know?”

He nods again, trying his best to pay attention. He’s trying harder than he ever has in school. He probably shouldn’t ever say that out loud.

“Anyways, she was my best friend. She was all I knew, and then we got to lovely Hawkins High, and she met Nancy. Nancy and I never really clicked, even when we tried. I guess it’s because I’ve always thought she was a pretentious bitch—sorry, Steve—but I don’t know. We just fell apart after that.”

“So Barb had Nancy and I had…no one. And the way my brain saw it was Nancy took my best friend from me, and then Nancy started seeing you, and so I saw those two from across the cafeteria, lounging with the popular kids. With you. And then she died.”

Steve is looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. Like he’s in awe of you. And it’s not anything negative. It’s warm. Understanding. Like something you’ve said has straightened something out in his brain, sorted something he couldn’t figure out on his own.

“S-so it was like we took her from you, in a way?” he asks.

“Yeah. And you didn’t. God, you didn’t. But it just felt like this…” you trail off, searching for the right words.

“Domino effect?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not your fault, not at all. But I guess I already saw you as some dickish rich kid and that gave me another reason to stay the fuck away from you. And now that I’m saying it out loud I realize how awful it sounds because people change, you know?”

“No, I get it. I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sure I still am—Dustin can attest to that—but there are rich assholes that don’t change or probably won’t ever change. I know a few of them.”

You go quiet again. Steve doesn’t want you to stop talking. He’s starting to think he likes the sound of your voice.

“It’s good that you’re changing, Steve. I’m sorry I said you were such a dick.”

A breathy laugh leaves his throat. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry for…everything.”

“Maybe we can make a truce or something. Start over. It’s not like we really know each other that well anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool. Whatever you want.” He means that. He thinks he’d do whatever you wanted him to.

“Okay. Maybe we can just try and figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says. He stops himself from proclaiming that he wants to try and fix this with you. Because you’re listening to him. You’re not mad. He doesn’t want you to disappear on him after this.

You give him a small smile and he swears he might cry. Not that that feeling lasts.

“Hey!” Dustin is leaning down into the bus, hands clasped together. “I’m so glad we’ve got this handled, but we’ve got a code red, so let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

————

June 1985

The door to the back room swings open, a frazzled boy rushing in. You drop your candy wrapper on the table, and Robin keeps talking about the girl that you missed coming in this morning. She was “such a babe.”

“Hello?” Steve stands in front of the both of you, hands on his hips. You have to fight back a laugh.

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and you swear they soften, but maybe you’re imagining it. You nudge Robin’s leg where your foot is propped up on one of the supports under her chair.

She stops flailing and looks up, seeing Steve’s hand raised where he’d been about to snap to get her attention. She quirks a brow. “Don’t you snap at me, Harrington! This is important shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Could you two come and help me? I’m dying out here!”

It’s one of the hottest days of the year, and Scoops has had a line since it opened at ten.

You look at your watch. “My shift doesn’t start for…fifteen minutes.” He rolls his eyes at you, though the gesture is void of any malice it could possibly hold.

“Yeah, well this is supposed to be my break, so get out there, Buckley!”

She stands, though she’s pouting. “Come on.”

“You took the job,” he says, shoving her through the door. Robin gives him a look that you can’t see, but you can practically feel it from across the small room.

Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, ripping off the hat he’s been wearing and throwing it on the table in front of you.

You watch him rummage through a bag before he emerges from its depths with a banana and throws himself down in the chair across from you, lifting your leg up from where you’d moved it to occupy the seat Robin had abandoned. His hand is warm on the bare skin of your calf, and he shifts the chair some, laying your leg across both of his.

“Steve.”

“Huh?” He peels the banana, aggressively fast actually, and rips off a chunk, popping it into his mouth.

“Why do you have a banana?”

He meets your eyes. “Snack, duh.” He chews, and then gestures at the closed window. “Been working up a sweat out there I think I deserve a break.”

You grin at him, and he feels like he might hit the floor.

“Want some?” Steve pulls off a chunk and holds it out to you.

“Did you wash your hands?”

He gasps, mid-chew, and forces himself to swallow. “D-did I—yes, I washed my hands, mom, I’m not four.”

“Eh,” Robin’s voice breaks your little bubble. She’s pulled the window open–that way she can eavesdrop– propping herself up on her elbows.

That makes you laugh, and when you smile your cheek is full of banana and Steve swears something is breaking inside of him.

“Gang up on me then why don’t you,” he says, handing you the last piece he’s got left. He tosses the peel in the trash, “what do you want anyhow, Robin?”

“Your break is up, and her shift has started. Let’s get to slinging ice cream, shitheads!”

You wipe your hands on your shorts and hop up. Steve doesn’t move, just looks at you.

“C’mon, Steven. It’ll be lunch sooner than later.”

He grins. His eyes look tired and you wonder if he slept any last night. He told you once recently that he doesn’t always sleep well, that sometimes he has to listen to tapes in order to keep his head from being so busy, to keep the thoughts from being so loud.

Steve has told you a lot since last fall. There’s a significant bit more that you know that’s more than what he’s given Robin, but you know he’ll let her in. He just needs the time.

Though sometimes you think he might be giving you everything. The parts of himself he’s never shown anyone else. Because you’ve been such a good listener, and Steve’s never really had that before.

He wishes he had the balls to tell you more. But he can’t fuck it up this time. Not with you. You’re too good.

Steve is your best friend now. You know that. He knows it.

If yourself from a year ago could see you now, she’d probably knock your fucking teeth in. But he’s just so much more than you thought. You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive yourself for not thinking there could be more in him, though he’s told you not to be upset. You’ve told him the same when he berates himself for not having paid you more attention in school.

It’s the past. You can’t live there. And today, you’re scooping ice cream for pre-sticky kids, for shitty pay, but it doesn’t matter because you have him. You have Robin.

You stick out your hand, and Steve takes it without a second thought. His palm engulfs yours, skin warm and a little calloused.

“We can watch whatever you want tonight.”

He squeezes your hand. You and Robin are supposed to have a sleepover with him tonight. He suggested he sleep in a guest room and you two have his bed, but Robin said she needs to be cuddled. You said you’re not letting him sleep anywhere but his bed.

“I thought you wanted to watch Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I always wanna watch that. But you can pick first, Stevie.”

Stevie. His stomach flips at that. You don’t let it out often, but when you do it’s like Steve might just die right there.

He straightens, deal clearly made, and you pull him up–not that you need to.

You push through the door with him, and immediately regret it. It’s like the soccer moms can smell your fear, and you know it.

“Breathe,” Steve says. “Dustin’s here.”

He is. The entire party. That you can deal with.

You think you could deal with an absurd line and angry mothers for the rest of your life if it meant assembling Dustin and Lucas’ weird orders. Even if you have to endure Will’s questioning looks and his pleas that you bring some ice cream home. If you have to listen to Robin’s word vomit.

If it meant spending time with Steve, you’d do it.

God, how shit changes.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #dustin henderson #steve harrington x byers!reader #byers!reader #robin buckley #savannah’s fics

452 notes · View notes

stayandot8 · 3 months

Text

Heart and Seoul

Genre: tooth-aching fluff

Relationship type: married nonidol!Chan x fem reader

Important Contents: thank you the request friend :) I immediately got an idea when you sent this to me and I'm sorry it took so long to write. I hope you like it.

request can be seen here.

WC: 1.8k

masterlist

Hubby: Guess what I got???

A picture arrived a second later of three plane tickets, all with the same destination: Seoul, South Korea. A flash of shock hit me and my fingers worked faster than my brain could process.

“Isn’t it awesome?! My parents helped pay for them so don’t worry, I didn’t spend too much money. Well, not yet anyways. I’m going to buy a snow suit for Celeste because she’s never seen snow before and she’ll want to play in it because if she’s anything like me but that’s beside the point!” Chris was so excited and when he was excited, he rambled about everything and anything. A change that occurred after he became a dad, but a welcome one at that. Getting him to share his feelings wasn’t too too hard when I came along, but ever since his daughter was born, he was a babbling mess. A good change, really. After five years, he’d really mellowed out with her safety. She had too many clothes to begin with with the overexcitement of her arrival from her uncles, but now she was down to only a few new outfits a week, and now he at least acted like he was thinking about it when he changed his mind from a ‘no’ to a ‘yes’. He couldn’t deny his little girl anything.

“Chris, she has snow clothes. Her grandmother bought some for her the last time we went to Korea in the winter just in case it snowed, which she’s still upset about.”

“I know, the weather app is stupid, they never know anything.”

“Chris! She has enough clothes! We’re going to have to give her our master closet if you keep buying her more things!” He was quiet to this, like he was actually thinking about the logistics of it. “Babe, she’s not getting our closet.”

“I know!”

“You were thinking about it though.”

“...Maybe. Then I was thinking about everything else I could buy her with all that room.”

“Chris…” I said warningly.

“I’m done, I’m done. She’s not getting our closet.”

“Good.”

“But she is getting a snow suit. Okay, love you, bye!” I clutched my phone as he hung up, shaking my head and wondering where in the world he was going to put one more thing she didn’t need. It wasn’t like he was buying nonsense, it was just that he couldn’t tell her no if she really wanted something. He was a good dad like that.

Me: Christmas with the uncles sounds good :)

Hubby: Start packing. We leave in three days :)

Me: Won’t mom be upset we won’t be in Sydney for the holiday?

Hubby: My mom will be fine, she’s used to holidays without me.

Me: Don’t remind me

Hubby: It’s yours we have to worry about.

It was true, I was worried that my mother would be upset about a holiday without her grandchild. She loved them more than anything, cherished her truly. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about it.

Hubby: We’ll tell her together. We’re adults now, we can choose to spend the holidays wherever we like.

Always reading my mind, my husband.

The front door opened and shut, letting in the Sydney breeze along with it and a head of dark hair waltzed right in. Heading straight for the fridge, she reached for a small bag of apple slices just out of her reach.

“Mommy!”

“Yes, baby, do you need some help?” I was already off my stool at the kitchen island and heading towards her.

“Yes please!” She turned her shining eyes towards me, just as warm and comforting as her father’s. Her smile pushed her round cheeks upwards toward her eyes, just like his. Chan said she had my nose and he was more thankful for that than anything. He hated his nose.

She was still reaching for the bag, knocking a bottle of water to the floor. “Whoops! I’ll get it Mommy.”

“Oh thank you Cece, that was very helpful of you.” She loved hearing these things, loved hearing how she helped someone. Anyone. More of her father’s features shining through, she just loved to help in any way she could. I opened the bag and handed it to her. “There you go, baby .Do you want to watch some TV before your grandmas and grandpas come over for dinner?”

Once in a while, all the grandparents came over for dinner to spend time with the three of us. They wanted to see their Cece before all the holiday craziness came and they had to get busy with everything else that came with the holidays.

With the house smelling like grilled meat and rice, the doorbell rang like chimes in the wind, a touch from Chris when we bought the house. Cece ran to the door, yelling “I got it, I got it!” She opened the door to both sets of grandparents flinging their arms wide open at the sight of her at the door, her red sparkly dress swinging as she lept for them. They hugged her, bags swinging from their arms as all four of them came around her.

I was luckier than most with my in-laws. They had welcomed me with the most open of arms into their family and made me feel like a part of the family, like they had always been there just waiting for me. My parents got along with them, his mother bonding with mine over their love of plants and house decor. Our fathers got along with sports, the only issue ever being who was paying for the wedding (they both wanted to pay for it). They loved me and I loved them. I knew this situation wasn’t common, so I cherished it whenever they all came together.

“Cece, are you going to let them come in?” I laughed while they hugged her, knowing they wouldn't let go until she did.

“Oh, it’s fine, she’s fine.” Chris’s mom said while the others were putting their belongings in the hall closet. She picked up her favorite grandchild and held her until she arrived in the living room with all her toys neatly stacked. Celeste had a habit that she picked up from her father of finding joy in organization. It had to come from him because it definitely did not come from me.

As the other grandparents gathered around Cece on the floor, my dad followed me out the back door to find Chris hard at work grilling. They hugged and we watched Chris grill.

“How’s the producing business, Chris?” Neither took their eyes off the meat.

“It’s good! Keeps me busy, but I get to meet celebrities so it has it’s perks. And the company is still good with letting me off for time with Cece. So I can’t complain.”

“That’s because you still work on your days off. I still haven’t been able to stop him.”

I sighed and gave Chan’s back a reproachful look. My dad chuckled.

“Honey, you haven’t been able to stop him from working since you started dating. Remember Valentine’s Day a couple years ago?”

“Hey!” Chan finally turned around, mouth open in mock shock. “You said you were okay! You know how hard it was to get Tiger JK to actually sit down and work with me.”

“I do! And I’m still proud you managed to get it done in time.” I smiled and took his free hand that wasn’t holding a giant pair of tongs. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be a little salty that you had to miss our second Valentines together.” His eyes squinted.

“And have I made it up to you every year since?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“I need a beer! Anybody else?” My dad quickly jumped up to head back inside for said refreshment. I shot Chan a smirk.

“Was that necessary?”

“Hey, he could’ve done the math. Cece was born in November.” I rolled my eyes. His tone suddenly got serious. “Do you want to tell them now or after we eat?”

“After. Let them enjoy their time with her now.”

“You what?!”

The plates were cleared, Cece was passed out on the couch watching her favorite show, and the news had just come out. My mother, ever the drama queen, was fanning herself from the news. My father was helping her, if only to save himself the pain of a scolding from her later.

“Well, they’re adults now, honey. They can do what they like.”

“But they’re taking her for the holidays too, Richard. Did you think about that?”

“Yes I did. They’ll be fine, they’ll be back afterwards.”

“And besides,” Chan’s mom interjected. “You can spend it with us! We can get wine-drunk and celebrate Christmas ourselves without the kids.”

Chris grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. My mother just watched us smile at each other.

“We miss Korea, mom. And Christmas is such a wonderful time of year, I just think this year we want to spend it differently. We’ll pick you up some of your favorite face cream while we’re there, too.”

“So the trip won’t be a total waste for you!” Chris tried to placate her, but her face remained unchanged. “Alright Mom, what about this: when we get back, you guys can have Celeste for a whole weekend, just her and you.” She perked up at that.

“Friday to Monday?”

“You can even bring her back Monday night.” Chris, ever the diplomat. A rush of pride went through me. My mom thought about it for a moment.

“Deal.”

Chris’s dad piped in.

“What about us?!”

Celeste did really well for her first plane ride. We arrived at the Incheon Airport around noon, but we didn’t know what awaited us outside until we stepped outside to our car waiting to take us to our hotel. Driven by Hyunjin with a passenger seat occupied by Felix, they waved us over before climbing out of the car to fling their arms open for Celeste, who stopped halfway to them, noticing the white fluff all around.

“Daddy, what’s that?” she asked, her voice dripping in wonder. Her eyes shining with pure curiosity, she ignored her uncle’s waiting arms to hold her arms out to catch the falling flakes. They disappeared as quickly as they had landed in her hand, but that didn’t stop her from trying to catch all of the snowflakes in her immediate vicinity. She jumped and reached, trying to reach the clouds they were falling from. This insanely cute action was met with laughter from all angles, and before she knew it, she was hoisted into the air by her uncle to get a closer look.

Chris and I stood by and let them catch up and enjoy the cold.

“She’s so cute. She takes after you, you know.” I placed a hand on my stomach.

“I dunno. Maybe this one will be just as cute.”

79 notes · View notes

tartigglez · 10 months

Text

"mess with you?"

zhongli x f!reader (gn!reader until bonus section!)

・❥・slice of life/fluff

・❥・1.5k

・❥・HAPPY FRICKIN BIRTHDAY CELESTE!!!!!! MY FAV ZHONGLI KISSER! i hope this is an adequate gift, and i intended to make this much longer however if i did it would be like 2 weeks more late LMAO. i hope u had the most fabtabulous day ever, now everyone go check out @thesparklingwriter because she can write this man 8000000x better than me lollllll

・❥・SUGGESTIVE. VERY. dragon!li (bc celeste loves dragonli and i will push the agenda bc yes), physical touch, zhongli is the little spoon somehow, kisses, zhongli is a france-boo, you guys eat together, zhong is lowkey just nakedly vibin for a bit of this lol sorry, also if it doesn't make sense: xiao can't see windows cuz he's in bird form (they do that i swear)

waking up is never an easy feat, but being around him makes it a whole lot easier. on this particular morning however, you wake up rather annoyed, frustrated over the quality of the last portion of your slumber. yet opening your eyes would reveal that a small portion of golden-brown hair is rested upon the tip of your nose, lightly tickling it. so, this was the reason for your lack of quality sleep.

even still, he is a sight to behold. such a graceful creature, large, scale-clad arms, shimmering horns and long, elegant tail meeting your eyes as he slumbered, quiet snores –which were closer to purrs– coming from somewhere in his chest, all whilst he’s curled up in a foetal position, your arm draped over his waist.

you assume he is soundly sleeping, moving slightly closer to him to nuzzle into his neck, this however would prove false, as his chest rises, a low pitched, loud yawn filling the room, practically bouncing off the walls.

“good morning, dear” he grumbles, voice lower than normal. you giggle as he turns to face you, stretching his limbs as he yawns once more. golden horns slowly begin to retract and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him before beginning to press gentle kisses against the skin of your neck. the ticklish sensation makes you laugh again, throwing your head back slightly to allow room for his in the crook of your neck.

“already? we just woke up!” you wheeze, rolling away from him as you turn your back to him. this would prove pointless though, because he immediately scooches to your side of the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head comfortably into the back of your neck.

“what are you implying? i merely wished to kiss you!” he says, but the playful tone in his voice tells you this question is rhetorical, and he knows full well what you were insinuating.

“you’re squishing me silly,” you whine, grabbing on to his hands, which met fair in the middle of your stomach. “you’re like a koala, but even then they wouldn’t have the strength to squash me like this”

“are you calling me a koala? should i be offended?” he grumbles against the back of your neck, nuzzling even further into it, somehow.

“no, i’m calling you a brute” you chuckle, wriggling a little, trying to loosen his grip.

“i will have you know, “brute” is a compliment in dragon culture” he scoffed, loosening his grip a little.

“maybe i meant it as a compliment then” you mumble, turning back to him to peck his lips, snuggling up to him once again.

“hm, i’m sure you did” he chuckles, “anyway, what time is it?”

“i have no clue, let me check my phone” you let out a content sigh, grabbing your phone from the bedside, “ten thirty-ish. what does it matter anyway, we can lay around for a bit, no?” you question, eyes closing as you lean in to him.

“have you forgotten, dear?” he whispers, hand making its way to your hip, thumb and index finger fiddling with the hem of your pyjama top, “check the date again”

upon staring at the glorious digits on your phone screen, you abruptly pull away from him, raising yourself up on one arm and grinning excitedly. “date day?” you question, voice high and squeaky compared to your normal tone.

its a tradition between you and zhongli that once a month, you would make time for a day with each other, no matter the situation. simply a day to exist in one another's presence. together you came up with the philosophy that it doesn’t really matter what you do, as long as you’re with each other.

“it is indeed “date day”, as you say” he laughs, “so, tell me. what would you like to do today, my lily?”, the question rolls off his lips like music as he too sits up, blanket moving to just cover his hips, barely.

“anything,” you giggle, “as long as you’re there i don’t mind”. you step out of the bed, slipping on a pair of sweatpants and running to his side of the bed. “c’mon,” you laugh, grabbing his large hand by a couple of fingers, “lets get movin’ zhong!”

“can you at least hand me some underwear, please?” he asks, laughing when your face morphs from pure joy to looking like you’ve seen a ghost. you oblige quietly though, moving to one of the dresser drawers, pulling out some boxers and giving them to him, albeit a little flustered.

“what is it, my dear? you don’t remember last night?” he chuckles. its amusing how he is so nonchalant about such affairs with you, however if he were with anyone else, the topic would never even be thought about.

“n-no, no i do, but how am i wearin-”

“i figured it would be only right of me to put them back on you. you were awake, but apparently so far gone don’t remember,” he laughs, acting calm about it when in reality his ears are turning a little red.

“rex lapis!” you exclaim, “don’t be so lewd!” you push his shoulder a little in a teasing manner, but he quite literally does not move a millimetre.

“aha, i apologise my dear, your reactions are simply quite amusing, is all” he claims. putting the boxers on under the duvet before standing up in front of you, toned body catching your eye as one his gold-threaded arms makes its way towards yours, long fingers intertwining with yours. “shall we?”

“put a robe on at least! the neighbours might see you!” you giggle, dragging him in the direction of the closet, before throwing a silk robe his way. he looks so very eloquent as he puts it on, fine fabric smoothing over his skin, and his honey eyes look up at you when he’s done, walking towards your bedroom door, ready to go downstairs.

zhongli is a surprisingly good cook, but that’s not relevant at all right now, because the first thing he does when he gets to the kitchen is boil the kettle and get out two plates, placing a large croissant on each one.

you rub your eyes a little as you sit down at the table, staring at the all-butter pastries which seemed to make some sort of miraculous apparition in your home.

“where the heck did you get those croissants?” you ask, folding your arms at the table and plopping your chin on to them.

“i teleported to fontaine for them last night”

“last night?”

“yes, last night.”

“zhong…”

“mmm?”

“you were naked all of last night.”

“before that!” he laughs, “more like yesterday evening actually, i apologise for misspeaking”

“you should be sorry! why did you go all the way to fontaine for croissants anyway? the ones in liyue are fine” you question, voice muffled by the sleeves of your pyjama top.

“nothing beats authenticity, hm? what is it they say in fontaine, oui oui?”

“i’m not sure any person from fontaine has ever said that,” you cackle, as he sets down one of the plates in front of you, along with a cup of the tea he was just brewing. “thanks for the food anyway, can’t believe you went all the way to fontaine just for a couple of croissants”

“not a problem dear, if it’s for you i would do it every day” he speaks, tearing off a part of his croissant before -rather animatedly- swallowing it whole.

“dragons eat so weirdly” you laugh, chewing away at your own food.

“we don’t always eat like that, you realise?”

“i know,” you giggle “i’m messing with you”

“you’re lucky, you’re the only person who has ever been allowed to mess with me”

“i’m grateful for that, y’know”

“i know, but now isn’t the time for philosophical conversations, let us just enjoy each others company today.”

“sounds good to me!”

“i’m never letting you go shopping again! seriously, how do we have three new colours of eyeliner, six new vases and an entire pet bird”

“adeptus xiao does not count as a pet bird”

“are you sure about her, rex lapis? she has no respect for the adepti”

“calm, alatus. this is her form of humour. i would appreciate if you do not criticise her.”

“my apologies, i did not intend to offend you, i will take my leave now”

“XIAO THAT WINDOW ISN'T OPEN”

“ALATUS!”

“told you he was a pet bird”

“please just get me a blanket for this unconscious creature”

“going~”

sfw masterlist || nsfw masterlist || taglist: @lioria @celestetalkstoomuch

i can't write in the present tense, happy birthday celeste!

#zhongli x reader #zhongli fluff #genshin #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #cw suggestive #zhongli x you

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baurbiediv · 1 year

Text

strange

PAIRING ➔ jj maybank x reader

WARNING(S) ➔ heartbroken jj, reader decides what’s best for her.

SYNOPSIS ➔ after jj went behind y/n’s back, she ultimately decides the fate of her relationship with jj.

SIDE NOTE ➔ listen to strange by celeste

A/N ➔ read parts one, two, & three before this! + official last part!

i tried for you

“i pushed you away because i fucked up. a couple days after the argument, i told kiara everything. my head was everywhere and .. and we made out.” he told you.

tried to see through all the smoke & dirt

way to go.

it wouldn’t move

your heart quite literally felt like it just got ripped out right of your chest and stomped on.

what could i do?

you leaned against the counter and put your hands on both sides on your face before bringing them down to your mouth.

i touch your head to pull your thoughts into my hand

but now i can’t

say, isn’t it strange?

the words coming out of his mouth, the feeling was foreign to the atmosphere that swelled in the air. and without a second thought, you were out the door with jj hot on your trail.

isn’t it strange?

feet carrying you wherever, anywhere but the current location you were now. the chateau no longer feeling like home, it now felt like you resonated on a remote planet by yourself.

i am still me

you are still you

jj reached his arm out before grabbing your wrist and turning your body to face his. “y/n, please you gotta listen to me. i fucked up really bad, i’m sorry. i promise you it meant nothing.” he pleaded, hoping you’d listen and forgive him, his eyes scanning your face.

tears welled in the bottoms of your eyes, the word ‘anger,’ wasn’t enough to express the amount of emotions that filled the humid air.

how people can change

“what could you possibly have to say to me right now jj.” you spat, snatching your arm away from his grip. your eyes filled with so much disappointment and pain.

jj’s face softened, he watched the way your chest heaved up and down. never have you been this angry at him, somehow the two of you would’ve gotten over an argument when the other got this mad.

from strangers to friends

but this wasn’t some kind of stupid argument, it was a very serious one. jj had one damn job, to never do anything as stupid as this. he couldn’t even do that.

friends into lovers

“i ask one thing from you. just one single thing, and you couldn’t do that.” you breathed, how badly you wanted to fall to the ground and sob.

and strangers again

all the pressure of this faulty relationship crashing down on at once.

this wasn’t fair to you at all, so much time and effort put towards him, gone.

right in the blink of an eye.

“y/n, please just hear me out.” he pleaded again.

your patience was wearing thin, your head was spinning. ripping the necklace off your neck, you threw it at him, along with the matching bracelet he’d given you.

we’re you being melodramatic? of course not.

your feelings were 100% justified, you’d just lost your boyfriend, the boy you were desperately chasing after since 5th grade, due to him being reckless and foolish.

and then expected that everything would be perfectly fine and go over smoothly.

he cheated, with your best friend. it was ridiculous that he even tried to get you to understand that this was something that you could just skip over.

“give her the necklace & the bracelet. she’d probably like it. i’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

and that was the last thing you’d say to jj.

jj watched as you walked away, how badly he wanted to go after you. his feet grounded, leaving him stuck and facing the consequences.

he picked up the necklace and bracelet and swallowed the lump in his throat.

he watched you walk down that dirt road until you were no longer visible. he already missed you.

time rolled around and now nearly a month after the breakup.

you’d distanced yourself from the group, not wanting to interact with any of the pogues. you could’ve prevented this, you knew the pogue rules, you broke them. if you had abided by them, maybe you wouldn’t be feeling the way you do right now.

you never wanted to see kiara or jj again.

2 people that you were supposed to trust the most betrayed you in the worst way possible.

the tears kept coming, and they wouldn’t stop. the sobs that emitted from your chest were ones of pure ache. nothing would’ve prepared you for the amount of emotions that this brought on.

why we’re you this hurt over some boy? quite literally everything was different. the way you woke up, carried on throughout the day, going to work, and school.

everything was different, there was no way everything could be the same way it was.

maybe jj moved on with his life, maybe he was doing better than you. who knows? maybe he found the girl that complimented him in ways you couldn’t.

but that wasn’t true, jj was in the same boat as you. but in the end, this was something he did and it couldn’t be undone. no apology from him would ever make you take him back, the damage was done.

john b & pope watched the damage take a toll on their best friend, yet there wasn’t a single thing that the two boys could’ve done just to see jj smile again.

jj missed y/n, but y/n didn’t feel the same.

this was jj’s mistake, and it was final.

he kept the necklace & bracelet, hoping that maybe one day you’d find your way back to him.

months passed and you finally found the girl you once were. eventually you found your way back to the pogues, your second family you loved so much.

albeit, jj was still around. but you couldn’t have cared any less than you already did. you moved on and now it was time for him to do the same.

but easier said than done, right?

he still never got over the night you left, he cried to his hearts content, he cried until there were no tears left. he’d never been more emotional, he so used to losing people, and you being one of those people absolutely broke him.

he was so used to you being in his world, and one stupid decision had caused him to lose it all.

the day he saw you back with the pogues, he so badly wanted to hug you and kiss you, telling you that he realized how stupid the decision he made was and that he’d make it up to you.

but you weren’t giving him the time of day, any time he tried to interact with you, it was short simple, one-worded answers.

jj tried his hardest to win you back but you were over it, over him.

jj was miserable while you moved on from him.

if you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

#jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank fluff

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selunesdreams · 21 days

Text

Chapter 23: Desire

Smut chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full chapter/story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word count: ~1.7k

Warnings: 18+!!!, smut, piv, oral, blood drinking, dirty talk, cumplay, slight fluff, preexisting relationship, part of a series (but readable without context)

A/n: a very specific part/scene was inspired by this post from @looneylolita and they deserve credit!

—

“You know, darling, I could do this all night, but it would be more fun if you were paying attention while I did it.”

Astarion rises from his position between her legs, where he’s been watching her stare and sigh at the ceiling as he’s worked his mouth against her for the past twenty minutes.

Celeste snaps to attention and blushes. “Sorry.” She squeaks.

His tongue gives a few final lazy strokes against her cunt before he wipes his mouth, glistening with her arousal, against the back of his wrist. The vampire kisses his way up her torso until he’s hovering over her, hands bracketing her on the bed.

“I know that look. I invented it. You’re a million dimensions away.” He cocks his head. “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

Celeste turns her gaze towards the balcony. “My thoughts are so demanding,” she exhales slowly. “I want to be here. I’m trying…I just can’t find a moment of quiet in my head.”

“Only you could overthink yourself into oblivion far enough to only casually enjoy my talents.” His words are mocking, but there’s a gentleness to his demeanor as he speaks to her. “If you’d like me to stop, darling, you only need to ask.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she says, frustrated tears brimming her eyes, “It’s just…everything is so horrible and I can’t focus, can’t relax,” she lets out a sound of agitation, “I can’t come.” She says and flushes with embarrassment.

“Oh, little love,” he says, kissing her jaw, “I’m acquainted with that feeling better than anyone. Just let yourself enjoy something for once. That pesky guilt of yours is getting in the way,” He reaches down for his trousers and unlaces them with one hand, pumping himself against her thigh. “And getting on my nerves.” He adds with a growl. She whines as the tip of his erection weeps precum against her skin.

Astarion sits up on his knees, baring every inch of his chiseled torso to her as he continues stroking himself. “Are you sure about this?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

She nods and he removes the rest of his clothes, returning to his former position over her, catching her lips with his own.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to say a word.” He whispers against her upper lip, releasing it from between his teeth. Her throat feels dry and all she can do is whimper in response, eliciting a smirk from Astarion.

He teases the tip of himself against her entrance. “But I will need you to look at me so I know you won’t wander off again.” He purrs the words into her ear and grips her face, the tips of his fingers pulling at her skin as he enters her. A gasp of surprise escapes Celeste and Astarion offers her a roguish smile.

“Is this what you wanted?” He feigns a pout as he works in agonizingly slow, yet powerful movements that rattle her with every push, eyes locked on hers with a dominating intensity. She arches her back in response and rakes her nails down his shoulder blades, causing him to tense.

“That’s my wicked girl.” He says with a snarl that turns into a kiss, bringing his mouth against hers as he thrusts.

Astarion had fucked hundreds of people before her, but it was kissing that had always left him hesitant, not the sex. The vulnerability of baring yourself in that way to someone. He could flip a lover over, turn away to escape as he did nothing more than service them, but the meeting of lips, the exploring of tongues in mouths and hands tugging and pulling and grasping…it was hard to fake that kind of intimacy. Not impossible, especially for him, but it took more out of him. More care, more energy. With her, it made his chest ache, his throat tighten with want. Need.

Astarion’s hands squeeze her upper thighs apart as he drives himself into her, while his thumbs trace circles and lines, feather light, before they roughly dig into her skin. Her moans become sobs of pleasure against his shoulder, hands desperately grasping at his scarred back as she draws herself closer, as if she could merge with him, dissolve into his very being.

“Celeste?” He asks apprehensively, a pang of concern in the pit of his stomach as her cries become more and more tortured. He pulls away, tilting her chin towards him so he can search her face for signs of genuine distress. Her breath comes in pants as her lips crash into his, answering with a demanding buck of her hips.

Astarion wraps her legs around his waist and pulls her closer by the small of her back. He lifts her with him as he leans back on his ankles, situating her in his lap between his knees. She takes over his rhythm, riding him as he peppers her neck and chest with kisses. Her fingers weave through his curls as she straddles him, lowering herself so he’s buried deeper within her.

He lets out a groan as she grinds into him with her entire body, controlling her own pleasure, tightening around him every time he bottoms out inside of her. Celeste pulls away, hands grasping his shoulders as she watches him. Astarion meets her stare reverently, as if worshiping her from the mattress. He finds one of her breasts and sucks at its peak, languidly flicking his tongue against her nipple, looking at her underneath lowered eyelids.

She melts in his arms as she feels a warmth at her core, her cunt clenching and dripping more of her own desire onto the base of his cock. Astarion releases his mouth from her skin and closes his eyes, appreciating the sensation. His deft fingers crawl down her stomach, a thumb finding her slickened clit and tracing delicate, then firm circles. She bites down on his shoulder, muffling a guttural scream.

“Now, now, darling, if you get to bite, then I do too.” He teases as he kisses the base of her throat. She bends to nip at his ear.

“Do it.” She rasps, and he throws her onto the pillows without warning, realigning himself and rutting into her with rugged precision. His fangs brush her neck, waiting for permission.

“Are you sure?” He breathes, fingers twisting themselves her hair, tugging her attention towards him as he searches her face for hesitation. She bites her lip and nods. Astarion shakes his head and pulls back and looks at her. “I need your words, Celeste.”

“Yes.” She squeezes her thighs against his hips as he drives into her.

Astarion hums in approval and leaves one hand knotted in her hair while the other returns to her center, teasing at her while he fucks her.

“I think you’re close, Celeste. Let’s help each other.” Astarion grins before his fangs find her again, piercing her skin without warning. Her breath hitches and her chest buckles as he sups at her neck. The mounting pleasure nearly sends him over the edge and he tries to keep from spilling himself as her walls tighten around his erection. When she clenches again, he knows she’s doing it on purpose.

“Fucking hells, Celeste,” he murmurs between pulls at her vein. Blood trickles past his bottom lip and his tongue drags a sloppy line up her neck to catch it. “That’s going to make me come, and I’d rather not do it alone,” he grumbles as he reaches her ear.

She cries out and he licks away the rest of the blood as he pounds into her. Her throat bobs, as if stifling a scream, and his lips cover hers to capture it before it escapes.

“What was that earlier about you not being able to come?” He pants. The vampire listens to the racing of her heart and the blood furiously rushing through her veins, sensing her orgasm approaching. She squirms underneath him, a whimpering mess as her climax finds her. Astarion finally allows himself release, groaning her name like a prayer, his forehead pressed to her shoulder as she mewls in his ear. They stay intertwined for several long moments before he pulls back to assess her.

Her cheeks are flushed as she gazes back at him. A smattering of blood on her neck where she’d bled more while he’d been fucking her catches his attention and he sucks his teeth and smiles.

“Oh dear, I’ve gotten sloppy.”

Her brow furrows, and her fingers fly to the wound. She stares as they come away slick with blood, glancing at him with concern. Astarion takes her fingers in his mouth and cleans the blood from them before rolling her on top of him, his hands eagerly gripping her waist as he draws the flat of his tongue over her neck, moaning at the taste of her. She grasps his curls with both hands and presses herself to him, her breasts flattening against his torso. Astarion’s hand ventures over her ass and back between her legs, encountering the wetness of his own spend seeping from her cunt. He slides his middle finger inside, teasing more cum from her as he laps at her throat.

Satisfied, he eases her back onto the mattress, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Are you still with me?”

“Mmm,” she sighs contentedly. There’s a tug at his heart as he takes her in. She’s stunning, all mussed hair and flushed skin, like a painting against the white sheets.

“I love you, Celeste,” he croaks, the words catching in his throat. His chest tightens with icy dread as he anticipates her response. They’d been skirting around those three words for days, repeatedly prompting arguments and slammed doors.

Her fingers reach up, wrapping themselves around his throat, exerting a slight pressure as she pulls him down until his lips hover above hers. Astarion swallows nervously, surprised by the shift in control. What’s left of his erection pulses against her thigh and he hopes she doesn’t notice his revived arousal.

“Getting sentimental on me?” she teases, a sinful smirk gracing her lips as she kisses him passionately. Sensing his trepidation, she breaks away, holding his gaze as she whispers back, a mix of understanding and desire in her voice.

“I love you too.”

—

Thanks for reading! Please like/reblog/kudos/follow/interact on AO3/whatever if you did? It helps so much!

Full story on AO3!

#astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion romance #astarion #astarion fluff #bg3 astarion #smut #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate oc #forms of imprisonment #formsofimprisonment

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machiavellli · 2 months

Text

Announcement:

⚠️ I WILL CHANGE MY USERNAME in machiavellli ⚠️

(from “heirofs1ytherin” to “machiavellli”) AND OVERALL THEME

(But I will still post about the Slytherin boys)

Hi!!🩷

Maybe I am making a huge fuss about this, but anyway, I just wanted to alert you in case you can’t recognize me anymore.

For the last couple of weeks I have been thinking about changing my overall theme, manly for two reasons:

I’ve always been in multiple fandom and this username it’s too one fandom oriented, as you may have noticed (I would switch to my old account, but I sadly got rid of it)

I’ve noticed that interacting with other fandoms with an account oriented on the Harry Potter fandom it’s harder, because the author of the quoted books, as we may all know, it’s not a nice person (we all know what she says online).

And I would like to add, that, during the Sanremo event, I think I almost got banned, not because I said something offensive, but just for how my account appears. I am kinda tired to get attacked for stuff I have no control over.

Also, I was very indecisive between different usernames, but in the end I pick out machiavellli since he is one of my favorites authors and also object of my research for the last couple of years.

I’ll be probably changing it already in the next couple of hours and so my profile picture, which is going to be this one:

And here I’m tagging all of my mutuals because I don’t want to lose them, I’m still Celeste, sorry to bother you all so much🥲🩷🩷

@moonschocolate @theeslutintheroom @annaisabookworm @slytherinslut0 @stvrlightt69 @finalgirllx @pxtter-s @suugarbabe @hp-hcs @pizzaapeteer @thatdammchickennugget @marriinachoo @ashisgreedy @theostrophywife @doremimosasol @pinklittleflower @berryzxx @jayybugg @njutul @gufu-vire @cash-111 @shiftingwithmars

(Also, if you want to know more about Niccolò Machiavelli, you can click the link I put almost everywhere)

#username change #profile picture change #from heirofs1ytherin to machiavellli #🩷🩷🩷#sorry to bother all of you really #theme change #my blog stuff #Slytherin boys #Slytherin #Harry Potter #machiavelli #lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott #lorenzo berkshire #if the slytherins had socials

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sereneres · 6 months

Text

strangers, friends, lovers, repeat

CHAPTER 0.6 — SOUR GRAPES / 2.4k

summary. — you were a stranger to sakura back then and she’s a stranger to you right now.

warnings. — based on strange by celeste / angst / heartbreak / mentions of a slur being said

“hey, ━━.”

there’s three– no, four boys standing in front of her and, while sakura had no idea what they had just called her, she had a feeling that it wasn’t a very nice word.

still, her mother had taught–ordered, more like–her to be kind and polite to everyone because she didn’t need another reason for everyone to hate her, so kind and polite she will be. it’s hard, but she deals with it because what else can she do?

“hello.” she says slowly, “do i… know you?” at the end of her sentence, she gives the group of boys what she’s sure is a shakey smile at best and a grimace at worst. whatever it was, it seemed to make the boys frown even more, so maybe she shouldn’t have smiled–or done anything with her lips–to begin with.

“yah, ━━,” that name again. just what did it mean? the way he was saying it made it obvious that it was some kind of… bad word, but one he relished in calling her. a slur, perhaps?

she’s pulled from her thoughts when the boy continued to speak. “we,” he gestured to the four of them, “heard that girls from knee-hon-go–” she had to bite back a laugh at the way he butchered the pronunciation. “were ━━ ━, so we wanted to know if it’s true or not.”

sakura, having barely stopped herself from laughing at the boy’s words, which, disregarding his horrible pronunciation, just sounded wrong in general, cleared her throat. “…i’m sorry, but i have no idea what you said.” she apologizes, trying–and failing–to give them a genuinely apologetic smile.

at least this time, her smile didn’t seem to anger them.

“huh?” the boy asked–he seemed to be the spokesman of the group–raising a brow with a sneer growing on his lips. “you can’t understand? are you ━━ or somethin’?”

“what?”

“‘wHaT?’” one of the boys mocked, making his voice high-pitched as if to mimic her voice but if anything, his attempt at making her looks stupid or whatever only served to make him look stupid.

it seems the boy realized it too, because he immediately followed up with a flustered, “shut up, ━━. acting dumb won’t help you at all.”

she’s not so sure what happens in the next few moments. she thinks one of the boys says something but she couldn’t understand it, partially because of his heavy accent–why did they have so many different accents here?–but mostly because the second he started speaking, she felt someone else–one of the boys who had somehow inched towards her without her noticing–grab a fistful of her hair and pull down-

and so, sakura found herself on the floor, her bare knees scraping against the very rough ground because it was hot and she didn’t want to wear tights, no matter how thin they supposedly were, but thankfully, she was wearing safety shorts under her skirt and- oh wow was that blood?

one inspection later–she squinted at the drop of red liquid on the ground–she concluded that it was, in fact, blood. the only issue is, who’s blood was it? another quick inspection of her legs and hands told her that it wasn’t hers, so-

“what the ━━!” one of the boys yelled, a hand to his nose, a thin stream of blood running down his lips, chin, and neck. “you ━━ ━! you broke my nose!”

ah, so that’s where it came from. the blood, that is.

belatedly, she notices the shoes of another student–where did they come from?–in front of her, and, over the loud thumping in her ears, she could hear the owner of said shoes snorting. “that was the ━━ point.” she mutters, giving the boy a disgusted look before turning to look at sakura, her brows furrowed with visible concern in her eyes. “are you okay?”

“who are you?” she asks, or, rather, blurts out, before immediately regretting her words. she probably should’ve just thanked her for saving her or actually respond to her question but–

“yn.” the stranger–now known as yn–says, smiling. “yn ln. it’s nice to mee- ack!”

later on, as she helped you stand up properly once the group of boys had left with their tails in between their legs or however the saying went, sakura wonders why you had helped her when the two of you were quite literally strangers. was it… what was it called? a hero complex? did you have a hero complex?

whatever it was that you had, a good act should always be returned fully, or so her mother has told her, so she helps walk you to the nurse’s office.

“hey, are you okay?”

sakura purses her lips, giving you the most unimpressed look she could muster up. “i think i should be asking you that, yn-ssi,” she says dryly, gesturing to the darkening bruise on your cheek and forehead, “considering how injured you are.”

“oh, this?” you point at the said injuries, your eyebrow raised comically high. “this’ll go away. i’m more worried about whether or not you’re okay after hearing those idiots call you all those names.”

you then smiled, and she would’ve considered it a rather charming some had your lip not started to bleed from how widely you smiled. “‘m injuries’ll heal ‘cuz they’re physical, but yours might not ‘cuz it’s ━ ‘n all that.”

“━?” she repeats, grimacing at how badly she had pronounced the word. “i’m sorry, i don’t know what that means.”

“oh?” there’s a look of confusopn on your face, though it quickly turns into one of surprise. “oh!”

“what?” sakura asks, feeling somewhat uncomfortable due to the way you were looking at her. “is there something wrong? should i get the… uh, nurse?”

you blink, your brows unfurrowing as your confusion turned into understanding. “oh.”

at this point, sakura has no idea what to say now that all you were saying was, “oh”, in different tones, and it certainly didn’t help that your expression was changing every other second.

“you’re a foreigner.”

it’s less of a question and more of a statement, but either way, it’s enough to make sakura suddenly feel uneasy. she shifts in her chair, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt anxiously as she looked at anywhere but you.

noticing how tense sakura looked at your words, you hastily shake your head–and hands–side to side. “not that that’s a bad thing, of course!” you say, cheeks flushing as you smiled sheepishly at her. “i was just surprised, you don’t really speak like a foreigner.”

“really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head. “everyone i’ve met since coming here has said that my accent is very notic…eable?”

“noticeable.” you correct, your lips pursed. “and maybe it is, but i didn’t notice it, so…”

“thank you…?”

it sounded less like an expression of gratitude and more like a question, but, fortunately, you didn’t comment on it.

“anyway, i don’t think i got your name.” is what you say instead, smiling at her.

“ah, i didn’t tell you?” she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she recounted everything that had happened in the past one hour or so.

you shake your head. “you didn’t. i mean, i think i know it, but i’d like for you to tell me it anyway.”

“oh. uh, my name is sakura.” she laughs nervously, averting her eyes. “miyawaki sakura. i, erm, transferred here a few months ago from japan.”

“really?” you stare at her, your own eyes wide with intrigue and curiosity. “why’d you come all the way here, then?”

“uh…”

“oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to!” you say hurriedly, laughing sheepishly. “i was just curious. there aren’t a lot of transfers that come here, much less transfers from japan here, so…”

“it was for my dad’s job.” she muttered quietly, giving you a small smile. she thinks it’s a little cute, the way you fidget anxiously in fear of having said something wrong. “he got a better job opportunity here so we moved. my mom wasn’t all that happy but she agreed because we… uhm, really needed the money.”

sakura isn’t sure as to why she was sharing this much information with you. she wasn’t an oversharer by any means–though you did ask her first–and she was considered a private person by many.

that said, maybe it was just because she needed to talk–she did tend to talk more when she was nervous–or maybe it was because you just seemed so nice and- what did you just say?

“sorry, could you repeat that?”

you blink at her owlishly. “i was just asking you if you wanted to be friends.” you said, and, seeing the incredulous look on her face, you hastily add an, “look, i know it’s a bit… childish of me to ask that, but i just wanted to know if you wanted to be friends or not so that we could hang out. i wouldn’t want to bother you if you don’t, erm, like me, and–”

“okay.”

she probably should’ve said something like, “okay, i’ll be your friend”, or something less confusing than just an, “okay”, but between your nervous rambling and her own nervousness… well, she wasn’t really thinking properly.

“okay…?” you repeat, looking both curious and worried. “what does that mean? do you want to be friends, or are you just saying okay to shut me up, or-”

“the first one.”

“oh.” a pause. “oh!” she’s never heard someone say the word, “oh”, so many times before. “oh-”

“hey.”

sakura is nervous. so nervous, in fact, that she doesn’t even notice you come up to her with a curious look on your face. just looking at you makes her regret ever coming up with this stupid plan. why did she think this was a good idea?!

“hello?” a hand–yours, obviously–waves up and down in front of her eyes, pulling her out of her thoughts. “earth to sakura, are you in there?”

she blinks. “oh, yn, sorry, i, erm, did realize you were here.”

“weren’t you the one who called me here, though?” you asked, raising a brow at the older girl. you’re confused, and rightfully so because, well, as you said, she was the one who told you–or rather, told chaeyeon to tell you–to come here and meet with her. “i mean, technically chaeyeon was the one who told me to come here because you told her to tell me to–”

“i like you!”

oh–excuse her languge–fuck.

sakura is certain that just might die on the spot, and, while she obviously won’t, she’d be happy to just bury a hole right where she stood, jump in, and never come out again because why the hell did she say that?! sure, she was planning on confessing to you today, but not like that, and certainly not so bluntly and without any feeling or any plan-

“you like me?”

huh. not a positive response, seeing as you weren’t blushing or smiling or much of anything, but not a negative one, considering that you did seem disgusted or upset. merely… curious, if your eyebrow raise was anything to go by. perhaps a little confused and a little surprised because, well, your best friend had just confessed to you, but only a little.

needless to say, it’s infinitely better than the reaction she had been expecting and bracing herself for.

to be absolutely, definitely, glass-transparent clear, she wasn’t worried that you would react negatively in a, “ew, you’re gay?” kind of way, mostly because you were gay yourself–there was, of course, internalized homophobia, but that was more chaewon’s thing than yours–and also because you weren’t the type to say that even if you weren’t gay.

no, what she was worried about was being rejected on the spot because she’s been your best friend for years and what if-

“i like you too.”

huh. maybe she shouldn’t have been scared after all.

her cheek stings a little, the pain only exacerbated by the rain pouring on her and on you. that pain is nothing, though, in comparison to the heartache she felt when she looked at your face.

“fine.” you hissed, your hands clenched at your sides. she has no doubt that you’re hurting the same way she is, both physically and mentally. “if you can’t handle this– handle us, we are through.”

she’s sure that her heart would have broken in that moment if it weren't already broken. your teary, empty eyes, paired with the cold look on your face was something she had, fortunately, never seen before, and it easn’t something she wanted to ever see again.

that said, it wasn’t likely that that would ever happen, considering what you had just said.

“okay.” she mumbles numbly, eyes, unknowingly to her, equally as empty as yours, if not more so.

the sight of it makes you grimace, feeling just as hurt as she did, if not more so, seeing her like this, but there’s nothing you can do.

you can’t wrap her up in your arms like you normally would when it felt like the world was torturing the both of you, can’t even stomach the thought of having her warm skin against yours until she starts sweating and whining for you to get off of her because she was starting to get sticky.

you can’t press millions of butterfly kisses on her neck, making her giggle oh so sweetly because she’s always been ticklish, she’s just never told anyone that she was. it’s something you’ve abused multiple times, whenever she was sad or lonely, and it never failed to make her smile again.

in the corner of your eyes, you can see the older girl’s hands twitch at her sides, likely longing to take your hands in hers and wordlessly promise to you that it’ll be alright. that everything will be okay.

she probably wishes–and she does, you just didn’t know that–that she could kiss you one more time, wherever you allowed her to. she’s kissed almost every inch of your body–an exaggeration, though it didn’t really feel like one–and it’s like an arrow to your heart to know that you won’t ever feel her lips on yours–on you–again.

“goodbye, sakura.”

this is the first time she’s ever heard you say her name–you calling her a shortened version of her name didn’t count–since the two of you got together, so it doesn’t surprise her when she feels her tears, which had been waiting for this moment, to roll down her face. unlike the rain pouring down, it's warm, and she clings desperately to it because of that.

“…goodbye, yn.”

previous. / sour grapes. / next.

#sereneres #seren.writes #kpop x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #miyawaki sakura x reader #miyawaki sakura #sakura x reader #sakura #;༊

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celestialspecial · 6 months

Text

Such Sharp Teeth

I needed to write a werewolf fic again, so many other writers i follow have been putting out bomb content so i had to join in <3

Writers notes: It's not true abo dynamics- some elements are featured but it doesn't follow truly, it is reader insert but MC's name is Aurora-

also go read @becauseicantthinkwritings Objects in Motion, hooooly shittt

Warnings: 18+themes, graphic descriptions of body transformation, insinuated non con elements, reader digression advised :)

All you could feel was the cool air on your skin, blowing through your hair as the moon glowed overhead. You felt strong, powerful. It was exhilarating and freeing all at once. The beauty of the forest surrounding you as the sharp ribbons of silver moonlight cut in shards through the trees.

You could taste the air, smell bread being baked from miles away, hear people talking and animals scurrying away from you. The forest floor rose up time and again to meet your feet, every sensation heightened. It was a beautiful thing more often than not, but tonight was different. Tonight there was a sense of desperation inside of you.

A tinge of fear, footfalls echoing behind you, they were far but yet still so close. Too close for comfort. Howls rang out and you knew that you'd never escape keeping pace like this. Your breath grew ragged, no longer deep inhalations but tortured puffs.

You could see your breath in the air before you and then you felt the pain surging through your body. Bones breaking, tissue tearing, muscles unraveling only to be knit back together in another form. You wanted to cry out at the pain but it’d only alert them to your location and that was far too dangerous.

You could taste blood and feel tufts of fur spring up along your spine as it twisted and mangled its shape into something new. Your eyes blurred as you felt the bones in your face collapsing and extending, ears rising up and canines lengthening in your still too small mouth.

The next time your foot hit the ground it was no longer a foot, but a paw. The squelching sound of mud making contact with the pads of it. You had been running fast but now the speed was unparalleled. Heavy panting as you pushed yourself to the brink of exhaustion.

You still had miles to go but the howling was far off in the distance growing further away and that’s how you liked it. How it’d need to be for as long as it took you to figure out the next step.

The covers you woke up in were caked in mud, it crunched as you shifted in the bed, pattering to the floor surely creating a mess. You groaned stretching your arms overhead, human arms, the muscles sore and aching from how far you’d run last night.

Even the edges of your feet and tips of your ears felt taut with tension and soreness. Rubbing a hand over your face, coming away with more dirt.

“Shit.”

“Shit is right, look at the state of this room.” A friendly face poked her head in through the doorway. She was tall, elegant limbs covered in a chunky sweater and leggings. Dark brown hair pulled up into a messy bun, light hazel eyes filled with a touch of mischief.

“I’m sorry, Celeste. I promise I’ll clean everything up.” She moved over to the side of the bed, holding a mug of something that smelled heavenly. Gesturing for you to take it, the heat seeping into the palms of your tired hands.

“I’m not worried about it. Here, drink. You need something to warm your bones.” You nodded taking a long drawn out sip. The liquid was chocolatey with a medicinal hint that washed over your tongue and seemed to heat your insides up almost immediately.

“It should help with well…everything.” She gave a half hearted smile, shrugging one shoulder up, before adjusting the edge of her sweater. “You came a very long way.” You finished the drink, setting the mug into the side table next to you. The warmth began to leech into your bones finally and you felt immensely grateful for Celeste and her healing abilities.

“I couldn’t stay. I had to…I just-time was running out.” The reassuring smile gave way to an earnest look of sympathy.

“They can kill you for this.” You swallowed thickly, all too aware of the dangers you had put yourself in. The odds hadn't been in your favor but you had to take a chance, to get away from home. Home. It felt a sham to even call it that.

“I know. And I’m beyond grateful you letting me stay here the night but I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.” Celeste made a waving gesture in the air, dismissing your words.

“Don’t be ridiculous, stay as long as you need.” The kindness created a fist in your throat, you’d been friends for years, writing letters back and forth since visiting often wasn’t allowed.

Rival pack members weren’t allowed to associate with one another more than their Alphas permitted.

You bit the inside of your cheek in an attempt to shove down the hatred and anger you felt for your pack. To call them such a thing felt like a crime in and of itself. They were horrible and controlling, to think of yourself free from them felt exciting and terrifying.

“You could get in trouble.” You nearly whispered, even though no one was around to hear. She brushed off the notion.

“We’ll figure out a place for you to stay in the meantime. Has it started?” You gave a brief nod, not wanting to talk about it. The temperature of your skin, the cramping, that undeniable ache that shook you to your core. Like your body was no longer your own. It was infuriating and deliciously tortuous.

“Then in a few days when it’s over we can figure out what to do from there.”

“Your brother is gonna kill you.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“Speak for yourself.” Celeste only gave you a smirk before squeezing your shoulder in a comforting fashion.

“Alright up, I need to change these sheets. A dirty dog rolled all over in them.”

That night felt like hell, a worse cycle than you’d ever had before. The winges of pain and agony ached through your system. It felt like your body had been tossed into a blazing fire.

In fact that sounded much better than what you felt now. Heats were different for every pack member but you couldn’t recall a time when you wished you were unconscious instead of enduring it.

You had needed to get away from your town, your pack before this happened. Before you were tied to the worst man you’d ever had the displeasure of knowing.

You were his property in his mind and the idea of you turning him down, running away rather than accepting his forced mating had surely sent him into a rage.

Maybe your body knew what had been coming and was throwing a fit in rebellion even now that you were in safe territory or maybe the strain and stress of escaping and being on the run had done you in.

Either way no matter how many cold showers you took, how many naps your forced yourself into, how many times your own hands attempted to hit their mark, it wasn’t enough.

Celeste had left a hearty brew of tea for you that was supposed to help, you’d chugged the whole thing down to the shock of your friend and still nothing. Or maybe it had helped and this was the edge being taken off.

Being hit by a bus felt less excruciating than this.

You somehow managed to fall asleep and when you woke your mouth felt dry, the familiar ache between your legs remained unsatisfied.

You wanted to tear the pillows on the bed to pieces, watching the feathers explode and drift down around you as your screamed into the frigid air.

You couldn’t even keep the window open for fear of Celeste's male pack members smelling you and paying an uninvited visit. Tipping off her brother that you were here, potentially getting her in loads of trouble.

Your fingers itched to tear open the window and taste the cold November breeze. Your nails scratched gouges in the white paint on the window sill as you stared longingly out at the frost bitten garden.

A soft knock came at the door, seeing your friend slipping into the room with another pot of strong smelling tea. Celeste sat the tea down on the side table, noting your frustrating posture by the window.

“I’m sorry, I know exactly how you feel.”

“I hate it.” It sounded like a whine, maybe it was but at this point you didn’t care.

“I have to go out and run some errands in town but I promise it won’t be long. Drink the rest of this, I put something in it to help your frazzled nerves and maybe even get you to sleep.”

The thought of sleeping another 48 hours and waking up normal again sounded so enticing.

“Thank you.” You crawled into bed staring out the window imagining running freely through the forest, only this time not away from something but towards something better.

Something that felt intangible right now. Tossing back a long swig from the tea pot and letting your eyes shutter close for however long they’d allow.

The hours crawled by and you felt yourself somewhere in a slumber and waking titration. Eventually you could see the sun was lower in the sky, mid to late afternoon maybe?

Your body groaned in revolt as you got up from the bed, joints creaking and popping, clasping the now empty teapot in your hands.

You could feel the sweat dripping down your brow, swiping at it, rubbing at your eyes anything to avoid feeling how warm your whole body felt.

Celeste hadn’t come home yet and you managed to scrub the pot clean, place it in the drying rack and wash a dish or two more. Just to feel useful for once.

Wanting to be the least invasive houseguest as you could, moving over to where the washroom was and folding some of the sheets spilling out of the dryer. The small menial tasks actually helped contain the disjointed feeling your body was experiencing.

The sound of a key being inserted into the side door, unlocking and closing alerted your ears that Celeste was home. You felt too tired and pained to call out to her, instead waiting to see her face pop around the corner, but it didn’t.

Footsteps echoed across the wooden floor and sounds of bags being dropped onto the kitchen island, accompanied by the soft sound of items, perhaps fruit, falling out and rolling along the granite. Then you smelled it.

The most intoxicating scent that had ever graced your nose. It was pine trees and fresh crisp air, like looking up into the night sky on a winter evening. It had a bite at first that smoothed into a warm rich earthy quality. There was even a hint of spice, it overtook every one of your senses, like you’d been bathed in it.

This wasn’t Celeste.

Your ears strained to listen to anything this visitor was doing, whoever it was they had a key. Fuck. Celeste hadn’t told anyone you were here. Your muscles tensed, noticing all sounds from the kitchen had ceased.

Attempting to pad as quietly as you could out of the washroom, venturing a quick look into the kitchen. Sure enough there were grocery bags with oranges spilling out onto the island but no one around.

Silence.

If you could just sneak to the back door, you could see it from your point of view. One quick leap and you’d be gone and able to shift and disappear into the fast approaching night.

One step, then another. You were always known for being quiet in your pack, able to sneak up on any prey. This was no different.

Another few steps and you’d be home free. You felt the cool wooden floor kiss the tips of your toes before the strongest force you’d ever felt knocked you from your feet.

Your legs barely touched the ground before your back was slammed into the nearest wall, tauntingly so close to the back door. Large strong hands held you in place, your shoulders pinned against the drywall.

The scent you’d smelled before consumed you, your traitorous body arching against the wall towards the source.

“Who are you?” The voice was deep, a hint of gravel. Male. You felt your vision clearing from your head smacking against the hard surface to see sure enough a large man in front of you.

He was tall, towering over you, lean and athletic, muscles strained under his white shirt, corded along his forearms down to his hands that stilled you.

You felt the anxious pull to look down, to not meet his eyes. The undeniable mark of an alpha, it irked you to no end. Taking a steadying breath you fought your body, looking up into his face.

He was handsome, carved from rock and earth and dusted with something you couldn’t quite place.

Dark brown hair that fell across his forehead, the sides were closely cropped but the rest hung longer, down to eyes that were such a deep brown you could lose yourself in them easily.

You could only imagine how radiant they’d look, flecks of gold catching the light when he smiled, but right now they were cold, calculating. The air caught in your throat, a choking noise all you could muster.

Your arms flexed against the wall, knowing you couldn’t escape but dying to, begging to. His nostrils flared, you watched the pupils in his eyes dilate, consuming the already deep brown gazing back at you. His fingers gripped you tighter.

“I said…who are you? Why are you in my sisters house?”

“I…I.” Your brain couldn’t form words, not now. The scent of him, the feel of his touch against your heated skin, you could feel dampness spreading between your legs, the slow ache building inside your body clawing to get out.

Your inner wolf was barely continued under your skin, a popping sensation in your ears, the room felt like it was spinning.

It was like he could sense everything going on in your body, the way his eyes roamed ravenously over your flushed skin, his fingers flexing against your arms, the intensity of his gaze.

It was a split second but you could feel his face pressed into the crook of your shoulder, hear him inhale you deeply. Groaning as he exhaled, there would be bruises on your body where he gripped you so tightly.

You couldn’t hide the gasp that left your lips feeling his hips pressed against your own, his arousal evident. You felt your hands reaching for his back and his grip lessened enough to let you, your nails scraping against his muscled back through his shirt.

The noise he made rumbled in his chest, you could nearly feel it reverberating through your own body. The scratch of stubble scraping against the soft skin of your neck as he breathed deeply the scent of your heat and your legs yearned to be wrapped around his waist and carried to the nearest flat surface.

A bed, the couch, the floor-

“Hey, HEY!” You felt his hands fall from your arms as another voice rang through the room.

Celeste was wedging herself between the two of you, arms out protectively in front of you. “Billy! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

The man before you took a step back, his eyes were still pitch black, his chest heaving, fingers clenching and unclenching as if testing that they were truly not holding you anymore.

“Celeste. You know this woman?”

“I do! This is Aurora, she’s-she's my friend.” His eyes narrowed on you.

“I don’t recall ever being introduced to her before.”

Celeste glanced worriedly between the two of us, I nodded at her, the most encouragement I could offer at the moment.

“She’s…uh…. She left her pack.” His eyes widened a touch, lips parting, taking a solid deep breath before looking back at Celeste.

“Celeste….” His words were a warning, tinged with anger, frustration, concern…

“I know! But she needed to get out of there, they were gonna force her to mate with a homicidal maniac of an alpha!”

“An alpha?” His tone was harsh and abrupt, rubbing the bridge of his noise, lines forming on his brow. “Jesus Christ, Celeste. Do you know how dangerous this is? To us? To the pack?”

“Forced Mating, Billy! That’s barbaric!” He sighed, leaning back against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his already mussed hair.

“It is. I know that as much as you, but some packs…still participate in the old ways…” his words weren’t convincing anyone, you could see it in the strained expression on his face.

You drew a steady breath , hesitantly pushing away from the wall you had just been pinned to. You missed the feeling of heat from his body being so close to yours already.

“I…I can leave. No. I think I should, Celeste, he’s right. This is dangerous you guys can get in a lot of trouble hiding a rival pack member. If you were to get caught it could be…it could be bad.”

Billy and Celeste both were looking back at you, you could see the similarities between the two. The dark hair and long lean stature, Billy’s eyes were significantly darker, but they shared similar noses and mannerisms. How they stood, staring you down, intimidating and beautiful.

“Rory…where would you go?” Your friend sounded so incredibly sad, it broke your heart. “Plus it’s not safe…”

“Once my cycle is over, I’ll leave.” Billy watched you with the focus of a pack leader and in the way only a wolf could. At the mention of your heat you noticed how his nostrils flared, chest rising into a territorial puff. “I’ll find somewhere to go.”

Celeste walked over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a hug. You held her tightly, the overwhelming feeling of fear and frustration from your body and emotions beginning to take a tighter hold of you.

“Wait.” A deep sigh came from where Billy stood. “We can figure…something out. Until you have a safe place to go.” His dark eyes were no longer black orbs but the brown had returned, a softness, and something else danced across them as he spoke to you.

“But-“ he raised a finger, the look of admonishment towards his younger sibling. “Do NOT let anyone else know she’s here until I say, and make sure she stays in the house until... well until it’s safe.”

You watched as he gathered his keys from the island, turning to walk across the kitchen, his heavy motorcycle boots louder than they had felt before, followed by the sound of the door closing behind him.

You knew what you had seen in his eyes, because you could feel it just as deeply. Longing. And something just below the surface, barely concealed but there nonetheless.

#billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher fanfiction #ben barnes character #the punisher au #Alpha!Billyrusso #Alpha!BillyRusso #werewolf #werewolf fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #punisher au

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matchaxberries · 10 months

Note

Hello! May I request Kyoko and Celeste (separately) with fem reader that loves when they wear lipstick and leaves marks on her during make out?

Have a good day :)

Smudged Kisses

Kyoko Kirigiri/Celestia Ludenberg (Seperate) x F!Reader

One-Shots/Drabbles, Requested, a bit NSFW (smut)

Summary: Kyoko goes out while (y/n) rests, and comes home with a bag of new makeup. (Y/n) takes it upon herself to give her girlfriend a small makeover with some of the new items, and soon it turns into (y/n) getting a bit of a makeover too. / Celeste is getting herself ready for the day, after a bit of (y/n)’s help she plans to head out. But, one kiss decided she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

Warnings: Both are established relationship. Neck kissing, makeout session, fem compliments. / Nickname darling for reader, nickname dear for reader, I call Celeste goth, reader is called pretty girl, a bit more suggestive than the other.

(A/N) I’m not sure if you wanted headcanons, drabbles, or one-shots, so you get a one-shot for both! :3 Sorry my uploads stopped for a few days, I got writers block and I’m so sleepy. This also ended up being a bit shorter than I thought, so it’s a bit more like drabbles than one-shots. 3: Also this is like modern. I didn’t mention the killing game in either, but I also didn’t specify that there wasn’t one.

𝓚𝔂𝓸𝓴𝓸🔎

(Y/n) lays tangled in blankets, stretching her body as she had just woken up. She turns over to wrap an arm around her purple hair lover, but quickly realizes her side of the bed is cold, and is vacant. (Y/n) sits up looking around quickly, no one but her being in the shared room. Almost as if on cue, the door slowly opens, and (y/n)’s lover peeks around the edge of the door.

“Ah, (y/n). You’re awake.” Kyoko states with a small smile, walking all the way into the room sitting a bag down with unknown contents. “What’s in the bag?” (Y/n) questions, looking her girlfriend in the eye. Kyoko only avoids the question, wrapping her arms around (y/n) who is still sitting up in the bed. “Do you know what time it is? It’s far too late for you to just be waking up.” She scolds at her, (y/n) only replies with a smile, “I was having a good dream, I didn’t expect you to be gone as soon as I woke up though.” Her smile forms into a pout, and she pushes herself off the bed to give Kyoko a proper hug back.

(Y/n) releases her, and quickly turns from her grasp walking to the table where the bag sat. She grabs it opening up to look at its contents, a small hum coming from her as she sees. “You got new makeup?” She questions, turning to look at Kyoko while still holding the bag. Kyoko gives hum in reply, “I was running out of lipstick, and there was a small deal going on at the store, so I grabbed a bit extra too.” (Y/n) only gives a small giggle in reply, “can I do your makeup then?” She questions, and her lover only returns a nod, “I suppose you can, just don’t make me look weird.”

(Y/n) sits in between Kyoko’s legs, sitting on their bed. Sprawled out to the side of them both is a bunch of makeup, including the new things that were just bought. Kyoko sits leaning against the bed frame, as to be comfortable and so it is easy for (y/n) to reach her face. (Y/n) hums as she gets to work, picking up a primer and smoothing it out over her girlfriends face. She is as gentle as possible, adoring the way her fingers run over the already smooth skin of the girl’s face. Kyoko lets out a small content sigh, satisfied at the feeling of the slightly cool primer, and the way her partners fingers feel running across her face.

(Y/n) finally makes it to the last step of Kyoko’s makeup, the lipstick. She picks up the brand new one she had bought, and lightly runs it over Kyoko’s lips. (Y/n) smiles, and asks for her to rub her lips together to finish up. “Thank you, hand me the mirror.” Kyoko requests, as (y/n) grabs the mirror for her, turning it in her direction. She lets out a small hum, “it looks very good, the new lipstick I got feels a bit too dark for me though.” With that statement, (y/n) tilts her head, “I think it’s perfect!” She gives a small pout, wrapping her arms around Kyoko’s neck, “anything you wear looks good.” She continues her previous statement. She then places a small kiss on her lips, and Kyoko returns it.

(Y/n) pulls away for a moment, reaching up to her lips and lightly rubbing them, looking down at the tips of her fingers now stained the same color as her girlfriends lips. Kyoko gives a small smile, and (y/n)‘s face becomes a bit red, thinking of the marks that could be left all over her from the pigment. (Y/n) leans in for another kiss, as it becomes a bit more heated and desperate. Kyoko holds (y/n)‘s face in her hands, deepening the kiss and slipping a tongue past her lips. (Y/n) gives a small noise, pulling away after a moment, panting. Kyoko continues, and begins to kiss down her lovers neck, the color on herself leaving marks of her lips on her neck. (Y/n) whines, and lightly pulls Kyoko’s head back up to her face, embarrassed from the contact and marks being left on her. She kisses Kyoko on the cheek, and jaw, leaving her own faint marks.

“(Y/n), you look so pretty.” Kyoko states, with a smile. She only puffs her cheeks out in response, “don’t start…” she lays her lips on Kyoko’s again, and she reaches her hand to the sides of their mouth, smearing the lipstick she left on (y/n) off to the side some.

After a continued heated make out session, they finally come to a stop. (Y/n) looks down at the mirror that was discarded to the side, seeing the lip marks, and smeared lipstick on her own face. This causes her to heat up some more, tilting her head to the side, still staring into the mirror. “Maybe you should wear lipstick more often…” she mumbles, mostly to herself. Kyoko overhears, and only lets out a small hum. “If that’s what you’d like.”

𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮♠️

Celeste slides her last ring on, more like a finger cuff but she calls them her rings. “Darling, come help me tie my hair.” She requests to the girl sitting on the bed behind her. (Y/n) gives a small smile, pushing herself off the bed and walking over to Celeste who is seated at her cute vanity. The vanity is black, with an organized display of her makeup and jewelry. On the mirror is a few photos of her, and her girlfriend.

(Y/n) hums as she grabs the brush off the vanity, standing behind Celeste, and brushing her hair up, to tie it. She brings one side of her hair, into her hand, and loops it through the hair-tie. She repeats the process on the other side, and grabs the curling iron off of the vanity as well. It’s already on, and has been heating, so she styles her rather goth girlfriends pigtails into neat drill like curls. “You’re so kind for helping me, my dear.” Celeste hums, watching in the mirror as her lover works away. (Y/n) gives a smile, and continues to curl her hair. “Okay, you’re finished!” She turns the curling iron off, sitting it back down on the vanity.

Celeste turns to her, and pulls her down very gently to place a kiss on her lips. Her hands are resting on the sides of (y/n)‘s face, which causes her ring on her finger to lightly rub against her skin. The pair pulls away after a moment for air, and (y/n) glances at herself in the mirror, Celeste’s lipstick now faintly present on her lips, smeared to the side by some.

(Y/n) leans back down, kissing her girlfriend again. Celeste gives a small hum, and lightly pulls her down into her own lap so she isn’t bending so much. She doesn’t have her big dress on yet, so she doesn’t need to worry about anything being messed with or ruined. “Quite needy, are we?” She questions (y/n), parting their lips away from each other for a moment. (Y/n) gives a huff, pointing at her own lips smudged with Celeste’s lipstick. Celeste tilts her head with a small giggle, “I see, you look cute wearing my color, darling.”

Celeste begins to trail kisses from (y/n)‘s lips, to her jaw, she uses her finger with the cuff to tilt (y/n) up by the chin, placing light pressure in her finger. She continues kissing down her lovers neck, being sure to leave marks and smears from her lips. (Y/n) gives a small noise when Celeste makes it to a certain spot, and so she takes her finger and lightly traces circles where her sweet spot is.

Celeste continues kissing back up (y/n)‘s neck, getting back to her jaw, then up again to her lips. She kisses her a bit more roughly, and holds (y/n) by the back of the head with her free hand. She finally pulls away, then turns to the mirror, making (y/n) tilt her head to look in it. “Look at my pretty girl…” She hums to her, tracing her finger along each mark, and smudge she made across (y/n)‘s face and neck. She turns away, wrapping her arms around Celeste. “Don’t be mean...” She mutters back, and she lets out a small content sigh.

Celeste gets up, (y/n) still in her arms, and she gently places her down back to her own feet. “Now I’ll have to fix my own makeup because of you, when I get back home later you’ll have to apologize for it.” She smiles to her, and walks away to go into their shared bathroom to clean off the smears at her own lips. (Y/n) makes her way back to sit on the bed, not bothering to clean off the marks on herself. She smiles and lightly touches them, humming and thinking of what they’ll do together once Celeste comes back home later.

Word count: 850 / 651 (1,501)

Character count: 4,532 / 3,483 (8,015)

(A/N 2) Again I’m sorry this took me so long. It’s also way shorter than I intended. I didn’t have much of an opportunity to write in the last few days, and I didn’t have inspiration for anything in my inbox for a while. But now I’m finishing all the requests. If you want a continuation, or have anymore requests send them in. :3 Thanks for being patient.

Masterlist

Request Rules

#danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #kyoko kirigiri #kyoko kirigiri x reader #kyoko x reader #celestia ludenberg #celestia ludenburg x reader #taeko yasuhiro #taeko yasuhiro x reader #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #character x reader #reader insert

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poppybros-jr · 2 days

Note

Dazor:Hey, Cosmo. I was wondering how you feel about your siblings? Uh- Good luck in the tournament.

…I mean, sure. I’m more than happy to talk about my siblings. I’m not sure why I started talking like that, to be honest. I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again. Just… get comfy, ‘cause I’m the fourth of five siblings so this might take a while!

@a-stardusted-sky

WARNING! This ask is a very long one, and it also delves into more serious territory than usual, so it goes under a cut. Content warning for mentions of divorce, parental emotional abuse/estrangement and childhood trauma resulting from the disappearance of a sibling.

Also tagging this as propaganda because we’re getting into backstory. @kirbyoctournament

Firstly, Stella! My twin sister! She hatched half an hour before I did, and we joke that it’s so she could be there to help me out of my shell. Because that’s what she still does even to this day!

We used to perform together under Stella’s name, using our identical looks to pull off a ‘teleportation’ trick. We were only kids at the time, so that was the only trick we did in the whole show. It got boring pretty quick, and I didn’t like that I didn’t get to have my name on the posters, but I was scared to say anything. Stella wasn’t, though! A couple of years ago she said she wanted us to be a proper double act, and that if I didn’t get recognition for my skills she simply wouldn’t perform. It worked! I actually figured out I was a boy not long after that, so I’m really glad we don’t have to be perfectly identical anymore. She’s trying to encourage me to perform solo, too, but I don’t have the same charisma she does, so I don’t know if I can do it as well as she does.

I’m really glad she’s my big sister. She’s the most supportive, kindest sister ever. And the most fun! She can be a little annoying sometimes with how excitable and silly she is, and sometimes her energy wears me out, but I’d never want her to change. She’s the best. Like a ray of sunshine!

Celeste is the baby of the family. She’s very shy.

She was only little when Marx ran away, and our parents apparently decided to use her as a… do-over, I guess? Our mum especially wanted her to be everything Marx wasn’t and put a lot of pressure on her to fit her expectations. But Celeste really didn’t like performing, so she got more and more quiet… We’re staying with our aunts at the moment because of our parents divorcing, though, and she’s starting to feel much better. She’s trying out different things to find something she likes. She seems very interested in the production side of the circus, like music and lighting. I think that no matter what she does when she grows up, she’ll do amazing. She’s really smart! Much smarter than I was at her age!

She hardly ever talks, but she’s an absolute sweetheart, and if anyone tries to hurt her I will DESTROY THEIR LIFE. :)

Since we live with our aunts now, our cousins the Poppy Bros are like our honorary siblings!

Poppy Bros Sr (Pop for short) and Poppy Bros Jr (Poppy for short) are the owners of the circus! Well, Pop is. Poppy will co-own it when they’re an adult. Poppy is also part of the Star Allies and helped out with that whole mess with the weird shadowy heart things a few years back! I want to join someday too so I can help protect Popstar!

Pop is a great boss. When I was a little kid I thought he was intimidating, but he’s really just a big softy! He’s always asking me how I’m doing and listens to all my ideas. He’s very understanding if I’m not feeling well enough to perform or get stage fright, and he never pressures me. I don’t know him that well, though, since he’s a lot older than me.

As for Poppy? I like them! After Marx ran away, they stepped in to be our older sibling since he couldn’t do it anymore. They still look out for us even now! They stand up for us whenever we need backup and they always have time to hang out with us. They were best friends with Marx before he left, so it must have been very hard on them at the time, but they always put on a brave face. I respect them a lot! They’re still a massive nerd who’s obsessed with bombs, though. They specialise in confetti firework bombs that look really pretty! If I count Pop and Poppy as my siblings too, that makes me sixth out of seven instead of fourth out of five.

Did I remember everyone? I feel like I’m forgetting someone… Oh, right! This jerk.

I’m gonna put this out here right now, okay? I do NOT condone the crimes Marx committed. He did some really bad things! That is not okay. That said, I’m talking specifically about my own relationship with my big brother, okay? Okay. Here we go.

I think Marx is a great brother. He’s not much older than me and Stella, so we were very close growing up and we still are even now. Some people are surprised to hear that I’m close to Marx, ‘cause most of the time we spend together, we’re either insulting each other or daring each other to do gross or dangerous things. I think those people have never had brothers.

It hurt a lot when he ran away. Stella and I both knew he wasn’t happy. He got into fights with our parents a lot and was always causing trouble. But we tried very hard to help him feel better. We played with him all the time. After he left, we thought it was our fault for not trying hard enough, but after he came back to Popstar he told us it wasn’t. I still feel bad about it sometimes, though. He doesn’t live with us anymore because he doesn’t want to be around our parents, but our aunts take us to visit him as much as possible.

Sometimes I still have bad dreams that he ran away again and died, or turned into a monster, or other bad stuff. It’s scary. I usually call him when that happens so I can talk to him. He doesn’t care if I call him in the middle of the night. He doesn’t sleep much anyway. And then the next time I visit he gets me donuts. The kind with the blueberry jam filling that I like.

He’s definitely not perfect. Not even close. Sometimes his insults get too mean. Or he’ll play a prank on me that upsets me. But he always says sorry and tries to make it up to me once he realises he hurt me. That’s more than what some people will do. I’m scared of a lot of people, but I’m never scared of him.

I do think he’s a stinky loser with a face like a Scarfy that got stuck halfway, though. :)

…

… Okay, that was definitely everyone! All of us are accounted for! Thanks for the question, Dazor, and I’m sorry I kept you so long. Here, take an ice lolly with you! You get first choice!

#poppy draws #cosmo noddy #kirby oc tournament #kirby oc tournament propaganda #others’ ocs #stella noddy #celeste noddy #poppy bros sr #poppy bros jr #marx kirby #sorry for the extremely long post!#cosmo stop praising your brother he has committed Crimes #noddies hatch from eggs in this au #cosmo definitely mentioned every sibling don’t worry about it nobody’s missing :)#item acquired: big bag of frozen treats #item still present: that ding dang fish bone

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

I’m Here | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - part of @retromafia ‘s 5K celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) met Tommy at his lowest point, both mentally and physically. She quickly becomes a rock in his life and he gets stronger because of her. And when another major event brings him to his lowest again, he finds solace in knowing that she's still there for him.

Warnings: language, injuries, hospitals, kidnapping, brief mentions of PTSD, season 3 spoilers

Word Count: 5401 (I’m not sorry)

A/N: congrats on this amazing milestone, Lily!!! I feel very honored to be able to participate in your celebration. I hope you like what I did with the song choice! Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this story was inspired by the song ‘I’m Here’ by Celeste

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR THOUGHTS & COMMENTS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories like this one!

Making her way down the hospital hall with a bucket and mop, (Y/N) hoped that today would go quickly. She had just learned a new pie recipe and was eager to get home and try it. She began the tedious work of mopping the floors to get them as clean as possible, humming a song softly to herself. Then she heard what sounded like a woman yelling. It was quickly followed by a man yelling back, but his voice sounded rather hoarse.

She furrowed her eyebrows and moved closer to the door the yelling seemed to be coming from. "You're not going to get better if you don't try. The doctor has ordered you to stand up five times daily and I won't be going to him and telling him that you're refusing!" the woman harped at whomever she was in the room with.

"I'd love to stand, but it's hard to when I can't fucking do it!" the man shot right back at her.

"Do not use that language with me!" the woman exclaimed with shock in her voice.

"Then don't say such stupid shit to me!" the man was ready with a comeback just seconds after the woman spoke. "Ah, fuck!" he exclaimed then, these words coming out through pain.

That was when (Y/N) decided to step into the room. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and fell on a man sitting shirtless on the side of a hospital bed, and a nurse standing over top of him with his forearm in her grasp. "Excuse me?" the nurse snapped as she turned to (Y/N).

(Y/N) froze. She didn't quite think out what she'd do once the door was open. "I'm here to mop the floors," she got out, holding her mop up gingerly.

The nurse huffed and shook her head before going back to the man and her attempts to get him to stand. It was met with more push back from the man, who was now groaning from the pain he was feeling. (Y/N) let this go on for a few moments before she couldn't stand by and watch any longer.

"He's not going to do what you want if you keep harping on him like that," (Y/N) spoke her mind, making the nurse look over in her direction.

"You have some better idea?" she asked, her eyes wide and hip popped out.

"May I try?" (Y/N) responded, motioning to the man who was sitting with his head lowered. She could now see the section of his hair that was shaved and the stitched up incision; a result of his surgery.

"Be my guest," the nurse said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she stepped away from the bed.

"I'm (Y/N). What is your name, sir?" she asked softly as she stepped closer to the man's bed.

"Thomas Shelby," he answered as he slowly lifted his eyes up to meet hers.

(Y/N) smiled at his response, happy that he was speaking to her. "Ok, what we're going to do now is take this slow. I'm gonna need you to keep your eyes on me, Mr. Shelby," she instructed him, holding both of her hands out for him to grab onto. She then locked her hands under his forearms so that she'd be able to support him. "Now I need you to stand slowly. I'll have your weight, so please don't worry about falling," she continued to coach him and he nodded before looking down at his feet. "Keep your eyes on me," she repeated softly, and he listened, his eyes finding hers again as he then slowly started to stand from the bed. He stood slightly taller than her once he was on his feet, but that didn't faze (Y/N). She smiled widely at his accomplishment. "Beautiful job, Mr. Shelby. Now, let's do four more, as that's what the doctor has asked you to do," she cheered him on before getting ready to continue.

Soon enough, Tommy had stood up five times, and (Y/N) was overjoyed. He thanked her for her help before moving back on the bed so that he was laying again, clearly spent from the activity. Before she left the room, the snooty nurse pulled her aside. "How did you do that?" she asked, still slightly baffled by what she'd just seen.

"I used to help my grandmother. She had balance problems. What you have to do is make the prospect of fear and failure seem nonexistent," she gave her secret away, smiling at the woman before she grabbed her things and exited the room.

(Y/N) made sure to visit Tommy Shelby each day that she was at the hospital. Not only did she help him through his recovery process, but she also managed to build a sort of a friendship with him. Tommy enjoyed her company. He liked having someone around who simply viewed him as a person, rather than someone who'd done terrible things to get him to this point. It was because of this that he asked (Y/N) to move in with him at Arrow House once he was cleared to leave the hospital.

She was a bit apprehensive about this at first. She had only really known him for a few months, and now he was asking her to move in with him. But then she thought back to when she first met him, and how he seemed like he needed someone in his corner. So she agreed.

Tommy was different when he returned home. At the hospital, his sole focus was on getting himself better. But now that he was home, the importance had shifted back to work.

It was tough for (Y/N) to be around and help out in the same way that she had done in the hospital. Tommy would lock himself in his office, and oftentimes wouldn't resurface for hours on end. And (Y/N) learned the hard way that she shouldn't go in and try to interrupt him when he was doing his work.

One day in particular, she entered his office to find him with his fingers pressed against his temples as he stared at the piece of paper. "Who?" was what it sounded like he was muttering to himself.

"How are you doing, Tommy?" she started off with a baseline question as she approached his desk. She could now hear him as he was talking to himself about the possible ways that his 'plan' could have been compromised.

She was able to deduce from it that this foiled 'plan' was the reason behind him ending up in the hospital with a cracked skull, and that 'there was some way that the priest found out about his original plan'. His gaze on the paper was intense, and it was really starting to worry (Y/N). "Tommy?" she said his name again, making his eyes snap up to her at once. His stare almost made her shudder. She'd never seen his eyes look that intense or filled with anger before.

"What?" he asked her, his question so abrupt that it almost made her jump.

"Are you ok?" she asked another baseline question.

"Yes," he gave her a blatant answer.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" she then brought up a suggestion, seeing as though he'd been in his office for the entirety of the day.

"No," she got another blatant answer.

"But the doctor said that..."

"I don't care what the doctor said..." he trailed off after cutting her off, his eyes still intense as he kept them locked onto hers, "this is the way I am. Call it a fault in my fucking design, I don't know, but I'm going to keep asking these questions to myself until I figure out what happened, and if you don't like that...if you don't like seeing me like this, you're welcome to leave."

(Y/N) digested his words before shaking her head. "No," she said, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I'm here. I'm staying here to continue to help you through this...however that help may take light," she spoke sincerely, letting him know that she was sticking to her intentions.

The conversation ended after that, and from that day on, (Y/N) tried to stay away from his office. She knew that he was wrapped up in work when he was in that room, and that he wasn't his true self because of it. So she instead spent her time with him when he was outside of it. Most times, they'd sit outside on the estate's grounds together and just talk…about life, about his business, about their families.

The more time they found themselves spending with each other, the closer they got; until it seemed like their hearts had become aligned in the same direction. Of course, neither of the two knew what direction that was exactly. They both knew, however, that they could count on each other and also share things that they normally wouldn't tell others.

She also loved playing with Charlie and spending time with the small child, who was the closest thing to an angel that she'd ever known. It was just an added bonus of being there.

It was later in the evening when (Y/N) finally retired to her room. She got changed out of the day's clothes and into a nightgown before she got comfortable in her bed. Grabbing the journal from the side table, she decided to jot down some thoughts from the day. She was about halfway through a page when a knock sounded on the door.

"Miss (Y/L/N)?" it sounded like one of the maids.

"Yes?" (Y/N) inquired, watching as the door opened slightly.

"Mr. Shelby needs you," the woman said. Her statement was simple, but the tone her words held told (Y/N) that whatever Tommy needed was serious. So she nodded and stood from the bed to exit her room. The maid told her that he was in his office, so she started walking in its direction.

She softly pushed the door open and stepped inside the room she hardly entered anymore. Tommy was sitting at his desk with his left hand pushed against his temple, much like how he was the day she'd come to speak to him. "What's wrong, Tommy?" she asked with concern in her voice as she approached him.

He raised his head slightly and glanced up at her before speaking: "I can't see out of my right eye and my fuckin'...hand's not movin'." His words came out calmly, but there was an evident tone of fear underneath them that (Y/N) picked up on quickly. She looked to his right hand, which was sitting on top of some papers with a pen gripped tightly in it. It was evident that something was wrong because she could see his veins going all the way up to where the sleeve was rolled at his elbow, and his fingers were clenched together in a rather weird way.

She took a deep breath after hearing the problem, telling herself to remain calm so that she didn't worry him any more. She carefully stepped behind him and placed both of her hands on his shoulders so that she could start massaging them. "The doctor said that something like this could happen, and that it's expected because of the severity of your injury," she started, recalling what his doctor had told her (because he wouldn't listen) as they were getting ready to leave the hospital. "Do you have the medicine that was given to you?" she asked him then.

"I poured it out," Tommy responded in between the deeper breaths that he was taking. His gaze was still focused on his right hand, and it was as if he was trying to tell it to move, but to no avail.

(Y/N) sighed at his answer. "That was meant to help you, Tommy," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"It was gettin' in the way," he huffed, squeezing his eyes shut tight as (Y/N) moved her hands to his right bicep and began pushing harder on his skin. He winced as he felt her fingers against his cramped muscles.

"You shouldn't be working this much, and so late. These cramps and spasms are happening because you're overworking your brain when it's still supposed to be healing," she told him, speaking in a soft, but motherly way. "What you really need right now, Tommy, is sleep," she continued as she moved her hands down his forearm, making sure to massage out the cramps before she focused her attention on his hand.

After a few minutes of working the intricate muscles, Tommy was able to lift his hand from the desk and move his fingers again. "Thank you, love," he breathed out of relief as he tipped his head to the side so that it was resting against her ribs.

"You're welcome," she smiled slightly at the fact that he was relieved. "You need to come to bed now," she then told him, her words coming out in a way that let him know it wasn't up for suggestion.

Tommy nodded wordlessly before he turned his chair in her direction and managed to stand to his feet with her right next to him. He wobbled slightly, but (Y/N) was there to catch him; her hands coming up to his ribs so that she could steady him. She glanced up into his eyes before sending him a soft smile, showing him that she was happy with his choice. Then she took hold of his right hand, and he revelled in the feeling of her fingers wrapping around his.

"Come," she said softly before she began to lead him out of the office and down the hallway. "My room's closer," she stated as she found its door and pushed it aside. She thought this way because she didn't want to invite herself into his room all of a sudden, because she had every intention of sleeping beside him that night. Tommy followed her into the room and looked around it for a moment before they both found themselves laying on her bed. "You need to sleep," she said to him as she took his right hand into hers and began massaging its muscles again.

Tommy could only nod as he looked into her eyes from where he was inches away from her. He had no idea when he called for her to come to him that he would find himself in this very position, but he wasn't about to contest it. He had been feeling a sort of a longing for (Y/N) for some time now. He wanted to get to know her better on a more intimate, romantic level ever since she'd told him that she would stick by his side and be there for him. There was just something inside of him that desired to get closer to her, and it now felt like she was a life line that he didn't want to get rid of.

So he laid there in the moonlit room and kept his eyes on her as she languidly moved her fingers up his forearm and back down, effectively making sure that his muscles wouldn't clench up again. Watching her allowed him to find the solace of sleep for the first time in weeks.

The next morning, (Y/N) woke up with the feeling of an arm wrapped around her. She opened her eyes and quickly realized that her head was resting atop Tommy's chest. This didn't scare her. She knew just how they'd gotten into this position, and quite honestly, she liked the feeling of being in his arms. She liked the comfort and protection that she felt next to him.

She moved slightly so that she could take his right hand into hers and wrap their fingers together. As she did this, Tommy stirred underneath her, moving slightly as he cleared his throat. "How's your hand?" she asked softly, wondering if he'd awoken, or if he was just moving in his sleep.

"Better," he mumbled, his voice hoarse from not using it.

(Y/N) took her eyes away from their intertwined hands so that she could look at him. "How did you sleep?" she asked with a slight smile.

"Alright," Tommy answered, his expression matching hers. She looked like an angel from where he was laying. "It was rather tough sleeping on this small bed though..." he trailed off, glancing to either side of him to call attention to the fact that their bodies were at the edges, "maybe you should sleep in my bed from now on," he suggested then.

His final statement took (Y/N) by surprise and her eyes widened slightly. "You mean..." she trailed off, not even knowing where to begin.

Luckily, Tommy was ready to fill in the gaps, "this is the first night that I've slept in a while, and I can't help but think that you had a large hand in making it happen," he paused, glancing at their hands momentarily before continuing, "and you told me that I need to be sleepin' more; that it'll help me in getting better, so why not have you sleep with me," he finished, trying so hard to stop the corner of his lips from curving upwards.

"But you'd let me in your room?" (Y/N) checked with him, that being the only detail she was hung up on.

"Yes," Tommy nodded as best he could with his head against the pillow. "My bed's bigger than yours," he stated matter-of-factly.

"And what brought this decision on?" she couldn't help but ask.

"You help me sleep," he gave her an abridged version of his previous answer as he moved so that he was facing her and they were on their sides now, their hands still intertwined atop her hip. "And I'd want you to be with me," he admitted, his voice softer now.

"I don't know, Tommy," she was still hesitant.

"Please say you will," he resorted to begging, his voice coming out as a whisper as he nudged his head closer to hers.

She stared into his eyes for a few moments as her fingers fidgeted with his. Then she found herself concentrating on the feeling of his thumb as it rubbed soft circles into her hip. "I will," she whispered then, smiling as his eyes lit up slightly at her words.

Tommy moved even closer to her after hearing her answer. He took one last look into her eyes and tried to read her body language before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers softly. (Y/N) responded to his actions and held the embrace. Their kiss was languid in nature, but the passion held between them was starkly evident. Moments later, they broke apart to rest their foreheads together. "Thank you," Tommy breathed against her lips. He was unsure if he was thanking her for agreeing with him, or for how she reacted to his kiss, but he didn't get to think too far into it, as she responded to his statement by matching her lips to his again.

Tommy and (Y/N)'s relationship took off after the moment they shared in her bed. The amount of affection he was willing and ready to show (Y/N) came as a surprise to Tommy, but he made no attempts to hide it or dull it down. She accepted it with open arms and returned it twofold, both in physical affection and in consistently showing him that she was in his corner and that she'd stay close to him.

Today was a big day both for Tommy and for the Shelby Company Ltd. It was the opening of the Grace Shelby Institute for the Non-Insured Children of the Poor, and the Shelby family were the guests of honor among the many donors that helped to make this dream a reality.

(Y/N) sat happily beside Tommy with Charlie in her lap as Polly said some opening comments. She then handed his son over to him as the older woman announced him as the man behind the mission of making sure that all of the children in Birmingham had a place to call home. She smiled widely up at him as he turned to face the crowd and accept their applause. Then she laughed as John and Arthur began yelling for him to go up and give a speech. The clapping died down and Tommy handed Charlie back over to her so that the boy could rest in her lap once more before he took the podium to say a few words. He tried to address the entire room, but couldn't stop himself from holding (Y/N)'s proud gaze as she listened to what he said.

After his short speech, Polly came back up and announced that there'd be some refreshments in the gathering room for everyone. That was the group's cue to move to the banquet hall, where the conversations began. Tommy, however, managed to slip away from the gathering and find the hall that held a memorial to his late wife; the very namesake of the institution.

He was leaning up against the wall and looking at her picture for some time before he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. "She was beautiful, Tommy," (Y/N)'s voice came from behind him.

"She was," he agreed with a slight nod before he turned to face her. She smiled softly at him, and that was enough to turn his solemn expression into a slight smile. "You're beautiful," he whispered as he brought his hands up to caress her face. He searched her eyes for a second before leaning down to kiss her.

(Y/N) brought her hands up to rest against his elbows as their lips met. She had a bigger smile on her face as they pulled away. "They're looking for you in there," she informed him.

Tommy nodded his head before he dropped his hold from her cheeks and allowed her to take his hand into hers. Together, they walked back into the gathering room, where they were immediately pulled in separate directions. Tommy went to speak with a group of older women while (Y/N) found Ada, Tommy's sister and a woman whom she'd come to love as a dear friend. They spoke about the goings on in their lives until Tommy came over to them with a worried look on his face.

"Where's Charles, Ada?" he asked with a sense of urgency in his voice. (Y/N)'s stomach dropped immediately at his words.

Ada's brows furrowed together in worry, "I thought he was with you," she responded, her words making Tommy hang his head and exhale a breath.

(Y/N) watched on as he then went to each of his family members and inquired if they'd seen his son.

"Someone said they saw a nurse take him, Tommy," Ada rushed back in after finding some useful information.

"Fuck," Tommy breathed, squeezing his eyes shut tight, "fuck, fuck!" he exclaimed, then gathering his family and starting to build a plan after making sure everyone else was out of the room.

(Y/N) stayed frozen in her place as she watched him and his brothers rush out of the building, and it wasn't until Polly came over and wrapped her arm around her shoulder that she found the ability to move. She immediately went into hoping and praying that the boy, whom she'd come to love very dearly, was alright. Stopping herself from thinking of the worst case scenario was the toughest to do, but she tried her best to do so for Tommy's sake.

About a half hour later, it was decided that the brothers were to go to the station and set a charge to blow up a train, and Tommy would go to the very tunnel that was being dug to reach the Russians' jewelry vault.

(Y/N) was able to see the worry behind Tommy's eyes as he spoke the plan into action to his family. It was because of this that she pulled him to the side before he was able to leave.

"You're doing this?" she checked with him as they came to a stop in one of the side hallways of the betting shop.

"I have to," Tommy nodded as his eyes darted around the room, showing his impatient demeanor.

(Y/N) noticed this and took his cheeks into her hands, steadying his gaze on her. "You're willing to go back down into the tunnels? To go to the place of your nightmares?" she asked him. She knew about the nightmares. They had occurred several times since she'd begun sleeping in his bed, and each time she was able to get him through them.

"I need to do this for my son, (Y/N). Hughes wants me to have this finished before the night's over," he spoke with desperation, "I can't let anything happen to my boy," he proclaimed his fears then as his voice broke. (Y/N) caressed his cheeks with her thumbs as she nodded her head slightly. She knew that she couldn't tell him that Charlie would be ok, because that wasn't promised, but at the same time, she wanted him to know that she would be by his side through this.

"Ok," she finally spoke after a few moments, "I'm here, Tommy. I'm here with you," she assured him, her eyes hooked onto his. Tommy nodded his head and kissed her quickly before telling her that he needed to get to the site of the tunnel. She let him leave, knowing that time was being wasted just standing there.

Soon enough, Tommy stopped his car at the site and began rushing to where Johnny Dogs was relaxing. The other man was quite confused when his friend approached, but there wasn't much time to question it, as Tommy was already removing his button down shirt and going over to the entrance of the tunnel. "I need you to bring (Y/N) here when Hughes is dealt with and Charlie is safe," he gave his final orders, watching as Johnny nodded before he began the descent into the tunnel.

(Y/N) stayed back at the betting shop alongside Polly and Ada. The three women waited on eggshells, hoping to hear something from either Tommy or Michael. Johnny Dogs was parked outside with his orders of bringing (Y/N) to Tommy once information came.

It seemed like, and probably was, hours until the door to the shop opened and a child's crying was heard. The ladies rushed over to where Michael was walking in with Charlie in his arms. Ada quickly reached out and took the boy into her arms, calming him down as Polly went over to her son. (Y/N) stood to the side with a relieved smile on her face as she watched the reunion.

"I have to go," she stated then, her mind now on Tommy.

"Go," Polly looked away from her son to nod in the younger woman's direction, and that was all (Y/N) needed to rush to the door and get into the waiting car outside.

Tommy was clambering up the ladder to get out of the hole with a bag in his hands. He placed it on the ground first before he pulled himself the rest of the way back onto flat ground. On his back, he took deep breaths and revelled in the fact that he was able to breath clean air once more.

"Tommy," he heard her voice. It sounded like she was right next to, and so far away from, him at the same time. "Tommy," it came again, and he opened his eyes to see her standing over him. She was here.

"(Y/N)," he breathed as he scrambled to get to his feet. His legs almost gave out, but she was there to catch him, her hands finding his ribs to hold him up like they've done countless times before. "(Y/N) is he ok?"

"He's fine," she assured him, "Michael brought him back. He's fine. Not hurt at all." The second he heard this, Tommy broke into tears. His forehead dropped against (Y/N)'s as she held him close to her, uncaring if he was covered in dirt. "He's safe," she repeated in a whisper, allowing him a moment to release the emotions he'd been holding inside.

"I...I need to go and find a phone. Need to hear him myself," he said after a few quiet moments. (Y/N) nodded her head and handed him both a towel and the blue shirt that he'd discarded earlier in the day. She watched quietly as he wiped his face and body off the best he could before he buttoned his shirt up and put on his overcoat. He then nodded at her, a signal that he was ready to go. She fell in beside him and allowed him to take her hand into his as they walked to the car.

Soon enough, they were at a phone booth that stood in the middle of the otherwise empty road. (Y/N) stayed in the car and watched as Tommy rushed out to go make a call. He held the phone up to his ear and kept it there for a few minutes. She smiled slightly to herself; this must've meant that he was able to get through and hear his son. Then, she watched as he hung the receiver back on the wall and slumped forward against the booth's ledge. She saw his body shake and knew that he was crying, so she exited the car to go and be with him.

"Tommy," she whispered as she opened the booth's door and stepped inside.

"I heard him. He's safe," he told her, breathing out a sigh of relief as he turned to face her.

"He is," she nodded in agreement with him. "These fears are no longer weapons. Your tears are just tears now. He's ok. He's safe at home. You've done it, and you've done good, Tommy," she told him, hoping her words would bring him some solace.

"Thank you for being here," he breathed as he dropped his forehead against hers once more.

"I'm always here, love. I'm not going to leave you," she promised him, her hand reaching up to run down his cheek. Tommy opened his eyes to look right into hers. A smile formed on (Y/N)'s face as she watched the storms raging behind his blue irises return to peaceful waters.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered, his hands finding her waist so that he could pull her closer and press his lips to hers. She accepted the kiss, revelling in the feeling of relief that was so noticeably washing over him.

They held their embrace for a few moments before pulling away. "How 'bout we go home and see him?" she suggested, breaking the silence between them. Tommy only nodded against her forehead before he broke away and took her hand, leading them both out of the phone booth and back to the car.

Tommy rushed into Arrow House ahead of (Y/N). She watched from the car as he spoke to Ada before hurrying down the hall and out of sight. After waiting a few seconds, she exited the car and began walking to where Charlie's room was. She then stood in the open doorway and watched as Tommy held his son tightly in his arms. A smile formed on her face as Tommy turned slightly to look over at her.

She wordlessly walked over to where he was and let Charlie wrap his hand around her finger. She then placed her other hand on Tommy's back and rested her head on his shoulder. "We're safe," she spoke softly, but he was able to hear her. "I love you," she continued, feeling him press his lips to the top of her head.

Tommy felt himself calm down from the warmth her embrace was giving him. She stuck around and stayed with him at his lowest, and he knew that she'd still be by his side even though this was all over.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy

MASTERLIST

Listen to ‘I’m Here’ here:

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x yn #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #retromafias5kcelebration #Spotify

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nerdieforpedro · 1 month

Text

Scarlet Stains and their Echoes

Part of “Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff” Collection

Joel Miller and Celeste (plus size OFC)

Word Count: about 2k

Warnings: PTSD, mention of death, mention of murder, fire use (a type of weapon), very heavy on the angst, one character has a mental breakdown, very bad jokes

Summary: The memories of how she came to Jackson haunt Celeste. Joel takes her out of the rain and enters her home.

Notes: Not sure why I’m writing so much angst as of late. I came home earlier this week and wrote this. 👀 I really meant for this to be fluff and for a challenge I was working on. My bad. 🫣 Celeste’s memories are in italics and her speech is in pink.

There's a little fluff at the end. 🥹

Main Masterlist/ Joel Miller Masterlist/ Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff Collection

“I don’t see why I would listen to you, that last call was bad, and you know it.”

“It was good. You’re the dumbass who went too far out and drew two here. We killed them but now there’s less ammo and we need to figure out how to get rid of the bodies. All for some…never mind.”

“Say it. I know you want to.”

“You doomed us for tail you bastard. If any of the people with us turn-“

“She part of the group now and will pull her weight. We’ll be fine. You’re paranoid as always.”

“I’ve lived this long by being so. You may want to start.”

Exposed feet make their way slowly along the dirt street if that’s what one would call it. “Shaa…Shaa…lala….shaa…” Rocking side to side, the ground sloshes underneath her feet. She stumbles stepping into a deep puddle but laughs as she sees it. Sees all of them.

“I know deep down you’re happy aren’t you? You get to be fucking right again. You always have to be right dammit…”

“This is the worst thing to be right about. There’s nothing to do but try and get out.”

“We traveled with them. Hunted and ate with them, we can’t just-“

“Put up or shut up. This is your mess we have to try and clean up. Supposing all of us aren’t all infected and just slow to turn. You were man enough to chase that ass, you better buck up find that same backbone when you told me I was paranoid.”

“We’re shit out of luck aren’t we?”

“There’s no motor or paddles on this boat and there’s a gaping hole in it. We’ll figure it out or die. Our only options Ron.”

The street is oddly lit from the moonlight peeking in small breaks of the clouds. Despite the flashes of brightness, the sky is still pouring down. Crying with her as she walks, hands waving in circles, holding a small fuchsia primrose. The memories are usually pushed away, in a place that isn’t touched within her. Any skirmishes occurring on patrol with clickers, raiders or smugglers weren’t enough to have those dangerous ruminations return.

The one raider she’d shot because he’d had a gun trained on Joel’s back – he looked like Ron.

All day, since looting their supplies and reporting back, she been able to distract herself from the nagging thought. It ate at her, inch by inch until after getting ready for bed, it struck. Thankfully she lives in a small house alone, so no one heard the wailing that slowed to sobs. Getting up and pacing, nor finally opening that bottle of whiskey Tommy gave her and drinking half of it made her numb. It needed to be gone, the pain, the evocation of these associations.

“You’ve got to use them.”

“I’m going to blow the place to hell if I do that! You idiot!”

“Celeste, I was bit. It’s only a matter of time. I’m sorry I was a horny asshole. Everyone is-“

“There might be some people left, we can save them and get out of here!”

“Put up or shut up Lace. This can’t spread out of here…”

“You’re leaving me with the shit job again Ron, damn.”

“Kinda my thing? My bad.”

“Well, fine. I think I remember how to do it.”

“It’s lighting and tossing some bottles. They’re Molotov cocktails. Turns out fire’s cleansing too.”

“Cleansing and destructive. I’ve got it Ronald.”

“I know you do Celeste.”

Can they be erased? Washed away by the rain? It’s supposed to be cleansing and healing, right? Like that night, it was pouring outside when she sabotaged the building. Raindrops stained her face as she left with the supplies she’d gathered, making her way to Jackson – their group’s goal.

The only one who did. It rained the first night Celeste had arrived at Jackson too. It had long washed away the blood but never the smell. Charred clothes and skin.

“Damn cocktails and a leaky boat.”

Joel didn’t sleep unless exhausted. Elle was over a friend’s house from the makeshift school they had here in Jackson. At least there were some kids her age. Hopefully she minded her language while over there. He sits at his downstairs window, no lights, just nursing the one drink that he told himself he could have tonight. It had been one to his credit. He was hoping the steady heavy rain would have lulled him to sleep, but he’d already been upstairs awake in bed for a few hours. The ceiling would need some reinforcing by his estimate after looking at the thing so long.

Miller thought his drink was too strong, maybe he can’t handle his liquor anymore. His patrol partner was in the street, barefoot with that same flower he’d given her when she found out he had allergies in a damn apocalypse. She is wearing gray shorts and a t-shirt, nothing crazy for sleepwear. It doesn’t suit being out in a downpour at three in the morning. She appears to be talking to someone, but he doesn’t see anyone outside.

“Can’t be any good.” Leaving his drink, slips on his boots and makes his way outside after grabbing a blanket and an umbrella he was able to find on one scouting outing. Calling her name does nothing and even shaking her shoulder didn’t have any effect. Joel doesn’t like it, but he pulls her by the arm back to her home, he’s never been to it but knows what it looks like. Easy to find because the door is open. He closed it when they both were in and left her at the foyer to check the house. No one had come in thankfully, not that he expected anyone to, but it pays to be safe.

“Celeste, Celeste!” He holds her shoulders and continues to call her name. She is shaking but he’s not sure if it’s from being wet, cold or in whatever trance she was in. Joel knows that he is way out of his depth, but he doesn’t think leaving her alone is a good idea. She might end up outside again or do something else, he shudders at the thought.

Joel takes a step back from Celeste. This isn’t the woman he knows, not from patrol. He’d just recently started talking to her, mostly about the weather of what’s going on in Jackson, but it was something instead of their nearly silent patrols save for different commands given when avoiding danger or neutralizing threats. He appreciates that often she didn’t talk unless it was needed. Even her shock at his horrible puns he’d borrowed from Elle had grown on him. Who was this woman in front of him? So haunted with empty eyes filled with sorrow. The flower he’d given her had lost most of its petals and leaves.

“I broke it. I’m sorry. It was important. It meant something. All of it slips through my fingers.” Joel’s never heard her sound so vulnerable. She drops the flower and finally her eyes look like they have some focus. “Joel? What are you doing in my house? I was trying to…to…I’m soaked.” Her head turns toward the window where droplets cascade against the house’s frame and windows. “Did I go outside? Is that why you’re here?” Nodding, Joel lets her work out the rest and scans her living room for a blanket. There’s a small knitted one so he picks that one up off the couch as she follows him over and sits down. Draping it over her shoulders, it dips along her back and covers the tops of her thighs. “Thank you, Joel.”

“I’m your partner. I’ve got you. Just maybe don’t be out in the rain anymore. Ain’t good for ya.” Joel states, making her chuckle. Even now, he could make her laugh. The glimmers of days past are still lingering near the surface. He plops down next to her, his left knee touching her right one.

“I’m not talking about it. I am going to go change and then we’re splitting the last half of my bottle before you go home. As thanks and in case anyone else saw me, I can tell them I was drunk, and I’ll have the hangover to prove it.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh now. He understands the drive to burn, bide and bury the nagging demons that tear at your soul. Through meeting Elle and finding his brother again, it dawned on Joel to try and drown those dark impulses with better experiences.

They’ll never go away, never fully be gone.

“Ya took me away from the one glass I was gonna have so I’m owed.” He crossed his arms with a grin as Celeste went upstairs to take off her wet clothes. She put on her black pain of shorts and sleep t-shirt. She’d have to wash the other one later. Returning with the bottle after washing up, she brought her glass down and got a one for Joel. She returned to her seat next to him, but placed a towel down so her other sleep clothes wouldn’t get wet. “Fill ‘er up.” Miller clapped his hand around his glass as she poured his first and then hers. Once full, they clinked glasses and sipped in silence, he was worried that she might float far away again.

“It wasn’t from the drink. I think. Many other things. I’m not going to again, calm yourself Miller.” Joel sucked his teeth as he took another swallow of whiskey. It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he just knew would promise himself that he wouldn’t be so violent except when required. There’s always a small part of him that points in that direction, he avoids it, but all it takes is one time to fall back into old patterns. Today had been different, after defending themselves against the raiders, she’d been solemn, never happened with any other raiders or smugglers he’d taken down with her.

“Know one of them today? I take it they were important.”

“Didn’t know any of them. He just looked like an old friend. I thought I’d put it behind me Joel.”

“Celeste, none of this is behind any of us. It’s just kinda there and we act like it’s not. Just to function. Tonight was a bad night. We’re all entitled to them. Any adult who’s made it this far ain’t clean at all. We’re all just stained, nothing’s getting washed out. Not even with that stuff that guy used to yell on the TV about late at night.” Both partners laugh to relieve the tension in the air.

“I was with you until you mentioned the Oxy-Clean man Joel. You remember that, but nothing about the Spice Girls, BackStreet Boys, Boys II Men or N’Sync?”

“Not any of the songs you hum when you fill the canteens. Not a one” With his glass tipped all the way up, he finishes it and stands, not moving for a minute to keep his balance. Tommy had given her a strong whiskey.

“Here drinking my liquor and lying to me in my own house. Damn shame.” Putting her hands on her hips and standing next to Joel, she started toward the door, and he followed her this time. “Thanks again Joel. Dry off after you get in.”

With an affirmative grunt and the opening of Celeste’s door, Joel stood in the frame, he raised a hand, but chose to place it on the side of the frame before grasping her shoulder. “Take care Celeste.” Instead of returning the gesture, she placed her hand on top of his.

“Of course. Don’t get sick on my account.” They parted and Joel began a slow jog down the street to his house.

A deeper accord had been reached in their partnership.

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #Joel miller comfort

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