#It's getting to the point where any time they enter the conversation I just quietly leave because I cannot stand them

[corset]

You know. I thought I talked way too much and never listened. But after running into someone like that who just absolutely takes over every conversation that ever happens and never seems to stop to interact with other people in those conversations/listen to them/stop talking for two seconds in this server I am in, I'm actually a lot less self conscious about this because it is now clear to me that I do actively make an effort to not be like this.

#It's Unbearable #It's getting to the point where any time they enter the conversation I just quietly leave because I cannot stand them #'never listened' is a bit of an exaggeration. I knew it wasn't /that/ bad but I know I have a tendency to go on and sometimes I get anxious #about getting something out because I can be scatterbrained/forgetful if I don't at times and I've also had to unlearn the feeling of like #'I need to dominate this conversation or I will just be ignored' that has been kind of trained into me by so many bad interactions/people #in the past -_- #Anyways it's definitely gotten better. #Especially irl since I've tried to make it a point to communicate that I want time to think about what I want to say sometimes #I'm used to my family who will prompt me super stressfully if I don't answer/reply to them in 2 seconds #I've had to tell my mother like 'okay. count to /seven/ at least and if I still haven't replied you can gently prod me to make sure I heard #you'

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 10/12)

helloooo, here are these two messy cuties once again, i hope you enjoyyy

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: time is almost up but who could deny a good karaoke session?

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, sexual themes, slight angst, those awkward/cringey scenes where they're singing (i apologize in advance), and lots of mixed feelings <3

word count: 3.9k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy hehe:

Steve and Robin love karaoke. 

Nancy had warned you that the friendly pair practically fiend for a good karaoke sesh, but you hadn’t expected them to be as enthusiastic as they turned out to be.

For some odd reason, the city seems less busy today, so you, Eddie, and Eddie's friends can take up as much room as you’d like on the sidewalk. 

In front of you, Robin and Steve are seriously debating what the first song on the queue will be. Walking just a few paces behind them is Nancy, who’s quietly taking in the city's bright lights; and next to you, palm burning a hole through your hand with his addicting touch, is Eddie.

It’s stupid, you think. The way Eddie has seen you stripped down and bare, whining and quivering for him at what could arguably be your most vulnerable state, yet you still find your heart racing 100 miles a minute with this soft gesture of holding hands.

Sure, you’ve held his hand before, but not for this long. Not in public when it’s not the heat of the moment and you’re simply walking around. It’s weird and new, and it makes your stomach twist in a good way, but fuck— you chicken out when Robin and Steve turn to face you, Nancy, and Eddie.

“Steve wants to start karaoke with Queen— like any karaoke amateur would.” Robin huffs as Steve rolls his eyes. You slip your hand from Eddie’s hold before either of them can clock the gesture, and you avoid looking at Eddie when he clears his throat.

“Because it’s the perfect opener!” Steve stresses. “Everybody always does, Queen, Steve! Plus, I’m not even sure I can physically pull through with how long their songs are.” Robin argues. 

Steve’s jaw dropped as if Robin had just said the most foul thing he’d ever heard, “Their songs are not that long. And even if they are, they’re fucking amazing, so what’s your point.” “My point is we’re not starting the night with Queen.”

They’re an interesting group of friends, you’ll admit. Interesting in the sense that you swear they could be a part of some sitcom with how funny and unpredictable their conversations and interactions are.

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, Steve and Robin have an entire list of songs mentally queued up, and they make a beeline to the DJ operating the music as you and Nancy snag a table towards the middle of the room. The bar is to one side of the room while the stage is at the front, and the DJ booth is at the back; the rest of the room is full of tables where people chatter, laugh over drinks, and sing along with whoever is currently doing their performance. Eddie had split off to get drinks the second you entered the bar, so it’s just you and Nancy as you settle at the wooden table.

“Are you going to sing?” Nancy questions from the other side of the table. You pull a face, shrugging your shoulders up to your ears, “I’m not sure, maybe once I get a few drinks in me. How about you?” Nancy softly laughs with a playful roll of her eyes, “Unfortunately, I doubt Robin will let me escape this one.”

As if summoned, Robin slides into the seat right next to Nancy. “I put you down together, but there’s a few people ahead, so start thinking of the song you’ll sing.” She gestures between you and Nancy. You shrug, accepting defeat, and before you can pitch an idea for a song to Nancy, Robin is leaning her elbows against the table and blinking at you, “So, let’s cut to the chase. What’s going on between you and Eddie?” She asks.

Nancy’s eyes widen as she instinctively jabs her elbow into Robin’s ribs, “Ow!” “Rob, you can’t just ask people that— god.” You softly laugh as Robin rubs at her sore side. “Sorry if I’m interested in keeping tabs on my friend!” Robin sarcastically argued.

Nancy rolls her eyes and sends you an apologetic look. “Look, I’m just guessing— based on the fact that you two were in the back of a fancy restaurant— that something is going on. Oh— unless this is, like, a business thing, then you can totally ignore me.” Robin rambles.

“Robin,” Nancy stresses. Your cheeks seem to ache from the amused expression on your face as Nancy turns to you, “You don’t have to answer either way since it’s none of our business.” She says, voice raising near the end as she glares at Robin. Robin rolls her eyes, and you laugh with a shake of your head as you shift in your seat. “No, it’s fine, I understand, but um,” You shrug, “It’s just a business thing.” You finally answer.

And, technically, you’re not wrong. There is a business transaction going on between you and Eddie… and the rest of the band, which is primarily the basis of your relationship, but you’re not sure how appropriate it would be to say, ‘Yeah, I mean, Eddie hated me, but now he doesn’t, so then we fucked yesterday but then his manager basically told us to squash whatever that was, so now we’re kind of in a weird spot because we don’t hate each other but we can’t like each other. Oh yeah, and here’s the kicker, Eddie’s been a total asshole this entire time, and it’s fucked with my head a bit. But apparently, he wants to change!’

It’s a colorful mess of loopholes and twists and turns that probably nobody will fully understand aside from you and Eddie, so…. business thing it is. 

Robin seems to take that as an answer, but Nancy is now intrigued by your tone, “That didn’t sound very sure.” She playfully raises a suggestive eyebrow. Robin hums, “What happened to it being none of our business?” She points out, to which Nancy just waves a dismissive hand in response. “It’s a business thing, but…” Nancy prods. Your face warms as you lift your shoulders in a shrug, “I mean, it’s… it’s complicated.” 

Nancy nods with a shrug as she shifts in her seat, “So, how did you two meet?” 

You take a deep breath as you lean to rest your elbows on the table, “Well, I’m a writer for Rolling Stone magazine—” Robin gasps, grabbing your attention, “No shit? Nancy’s a journalist too— ow!” She turns to look at Nancy with a disgruntled look as she rubs her thigh, “Would you stop bullying me?” She frowns.

Before either of them can get far into bickering, Eddie and Steve come waltzing back to the table with drinks in their hands. Eddie snags a seat beside you and passes a drink to you; you smile as you gratefully take the glass and softly thank him. Steve plops down next to Robin, sliding her and Nancy their drinks as he says, “Alright, I hope everyone has their songs picked out because I plan on battling each and every one of you.”

Although the weather outside is on the more chilly side of summer days, you find your body warm with liquor and laughter as you, Nancy, and Eddie watch a tipsy pair of Steve and Robin sing a surprisingly good rendition of Huey Lewis’ Heart and Soul. You’ve shrugged off your sweater and tossed it over the back of your chair— and you’re thankful to have thrown on a tank top underneath because, most of the time, you hardly bother to wear anything beneath sweaters.

It’s their fourth song of the night, Eddie and Nancy have both gone up at least once, but you’ve been on the observant side mostly, enjoying the ongoing conversations you’ve had with Nancy. There’s a bowl of chips and salsa in the middle of the table, and Eddie’s arm is draped across the back of your chair, heat pouring from him and seeping all around to wrap you up in an Eddie-scented bubble— it’s nicer than you’d care or like to admit.

Nancy has turned around to watch and cheer on the performance; she’s become more animated and loose after a few drinks, and you laugh as Robin practically serenades her from the stage. You lean back in your chair, softly giggling as you slightly lean into Eddie, “So,” you grab your drink and glance at the boy on your side, “What’s the dynamic here?” You ask with a jut of your chin towards his friends.

Eddie hums, leaning further into his chair, and in turn, pressing himself closer to you. His breath is warm against your ear and cheek, curly strands brushing against your skin as he speaks, “So basically,” He dramatically sighs, and you smile at his dramatics as he gestures between his friends, “Nancy and Steve are exes from high school and Robin and Steve are best friends.” You nod, gaze darting between the friends as you connect the dots. “But,” He raises a finger over his glass, “Robin and Nancy are dating now.” Your eyebrows raise at the full circle of events, but you nod as your suspicions are finally confirmed. 

Eddie leans closer, voice dropping to a lower volume, “But at this rate, it’s safe to say Nancy’s playing third wheel for Steve and Rob since they practically share one brain cell.” You tilt your head, “Okay, I see it now.”

Nancy glances over her shoulder to glare at you and Eddie from her seat, “I heard that, assholes… you’re not wrong.” She grumbles. You and Eddie laugh as she turns back to face you both now that Steve and Robin are hopping off the stage.

“Steve’s actually seeing a girl now; she’s in nursing school.” Nancy pipes up, grabs a chip, and pops it into her mouth. Eddie leans forward at that, keeping his arm on your chair as he uses the other to grab a chip for himself,  “Nursing school?”

Nancy nods as she sips her drink, “He goes down to see her like every other weekend. And they run our phone bill up like hell.” 

Robin plops down into her seat, “What are we talking about? Steve’s hot nurse babe?” She asks, humming when Nancy nods. Robin scoffs as she turns to Eddie, “Can you believe they’ve been dating for, like, four months, and we have yet to even see a picture of her? They see each other every week!”

Eddie snorts, “Then who’s he talking to on the phone?” Robin shrugs, “Who knows at this point.”

Steve returns as if on cue, sitting down with a sigh as he glances at the table, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, just talking about your imaginary girlfriend.” Robin teases.

Steve groans, eyes rolling before glaring at his giggling friends— your cheeks hurt from smiling. “She’s real, okay? She’s real, and her name is Cassie, and the only reason you haven’t met her yet is because she’s literally in nursing school— she has a busy schedule!”

And although you wish Eddie and you had been able to finish your discussion without the abrupt interruption, you find yourself growing fond of this shade of Eddie— sure, you’ve seen him having fun and being unapologetically himself with Gareth and Jeff and even on stage, but this side of Eddie is softer— kinder, brighter— homey. 

You realize as you watch him singing his heart out to some mainstream pop song that Steve somehow talked him into doing. You’re more surprised that Eddie knows the lyrics, but you’re too tipsy to dwell on it because Nancy’s scooting onto the chair beside you and asking what song you two should sing because, “We have to outsing them, obviously.”

And, well, you hardly have the time to stop your lips before you lean in and tell her the song you’d like to sing. Nancy snickers, giggling at the obvious undertone of the chosen song, and she eagerly agrees because “He’s gonna shit his pants.”

You go back and forth on who will take which role— who will sing Tom Petty’s key, and who will sing Stevie Nicks's key— but then you eventually land on just singing together for the entirety of the song. When the boys finish their song, Nancy drags you up to the DJ to request the song and magically persuades him to let you skip the queue of people to go next. She’s a good flirt, that’s indisputable.

You should probably thank Nancy at some point for agreeing to this song regardless of how little information she has about your situationship with Eddie, but before you even get the chance to, you and Nancy are already singing the first line of the song— Baby, you'll come knocking on my front door. Same old line you used to use before— and well, Eddie’s head has never turned his head faster, but you avoid his gaze for as long as you can.

And you’re doing good; you’re doing so good, and then you get to the second chorus and lock eyes with Eddie as you sing along to the track with Nancy— Baby, you could never look me in the eye. Yeah, you buckle with the weight of the world. Stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my heart around— and, well… you think you made your point clear.

You and Nancy have a blast singing to Nicks and Petty, and when the song ends, the bar claps and cheers as they do after every performance, and you’re all smiles as you waltz back to the table, sitting next to the fidgeting boy you’d just indirectly serenaded. Steve and Robin are telling you and Nancy how well you did and teasing each other over specific parts of the performance, and they’re all so caught up in one another that they hardly notice as Eddie leans into your space, voice low and gravely as he speaks, “That was cruel, princess.”

You look at him, eyes falling to the ghost of a smirk that dances across his lips before you reach forward to grab your drink, wrapping your lips around the thin, black straw, maintaining eye contact as you shrug, “Did you get the hint?” You tease.

Eddie huffs around a laugh, shifting in his seat, left arm back to barricading the back of your chair, and you don’t fail to notice the tent in the crotch of his jeans. He rolls his tongue over his teeth, snickering when you raise an eyebrow, “Yeah… Yeah, I got the hint.” He nods, and you think you might see a pink tint dusting across his cheeks.

You smile, liquor making you bold as you blink up at him, “Good.”

It’s a long trip to the hotel with a pair of drunk best friends.

They ramble a lot— Steve and Robin— you come to find out, and Nancy and Eddie have become experts at handling them with ease. You realize this as you watch them get their friends tucked into bed. Nancy is tipsy, but Eddie informed you that she has a weird thing with tequila where she becomes highly functioning, so she’s moving about the room with grace and precision.

When the drunk pair is finally tucked into bed, Nancy walks you and Eddie to the door of the hotel room, thanking you for taking the time to make sure they got in safe. “I would say see you at breakfast, but I doubt these two will have crawled from the grave by then.” Nancy gestures back to Robin and Steve. 

You don’t blame them; they’re basically on holiday, and you would do the same.

Your and Eddie’s rooms are on a different floor, and it’s a long ride up to the top, especially with the burning desire for one of you to say something— what, you’re not sure.

“I like your friends.”

That was you talking, you realize when Eddie turns to you with a smirk, “Yeah? They didn’t scare you off with their incessant shithead behavior?” He jokingly questions. You hum with a laugh, “I’ve dealt with worse.” You tease.

Eddie walks you to your room, his intoxicating smell and presence hovering around you as you unlock the door before stepping in. You turn around, hand resting on the edge of the door as you look at the curly-haired boy, “Good night, Eddie.”

Eddie hums, leaning against the door frame, eyes flickering to the twist of your mouth before reaching your eyes again, “Not gonna finish our conversation?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “I hardly believe you’d be doing much talking if I let you in right now.” And you don’t think you’re ready to travel down that path again. Not so soon when you have the events of tonight to digest, not to mention the gift sitting in your bag.

Eddie shrugs with a small smirk, “I can multitask.”

His gentle smile is beautiful. Alluring and unique, and his eyes are taking you with such an intensity that you think you might melt if you stay a minute longer. “I didn’t choose that song for the hell of it, you know?” You ask. “Stevie’s got a mean fucking range. Lord knows if I’ll be covering her again.” You grumble. And really, how high can the woman go with her rasp?

Eddie laughs, turning his head and glancing at the empty hallway before looking back to you, “Yeah, I know,” He softly replies.

You nod and he takes a deep breath, nodding towards your bag slung over your shoulder, “Listen to the tape.” He reminds you.

You tilt your head, clenching the strap of your bag before speaking, “Are you under the impression that this would make up for everything?” You ask.

And you don’t mean for it to sound harsh or hurt his feelings, but you have to let him know that if that’s what he’s hoping, then he’s wrong. This doesn’t fix everything. This doesn’t fix the confused feelings and the harsh words. It’s a start, but it’s not a finish as well.

And although Eddie’s expression falters, he shakes his head, “No. But I still want you to listen.”

You nod quietly, gazing at each other and wishing you could start on a different foot. You clear your throat, straighten your stance, and step back. “Good night, Eddie.” You softly say.

By the time you finish showering and getting ready for bed, the only thing running on your mind is the pending need to sleep. The maids had changed out the seats so they’re not doused with the ghost of Eddie’s cologne and shampoo— but you don’t go long with Eddie out of your mind because there’s a hard object that pokes into your arm when you settle into the bed.

You groan, twisting your arm around your frame to dig out the small object from below you, and when your fingers wrap around the plastic case, you immediately remember the task you’d had for tonight— listen to the tape.

The sleep that weighed down on your body is suddenly gone as you sit up to grab your walkman and headphones before settling back into the comfy sheets.

You try your best to ignore the swirling feeling of nerves and excitement in your gut as you put on your headphones and slip the tape in, but you find yourself nipping at the skin of your nails as the tape winds either way.

It’s silent for a moment, the sound of shuffling and the soft thud of what you think might be someone setting a glass down. There’s a clearing of a throat— it’s Eddie, you can tell— and your stomach twists in anticipation at the first ring of a piano chord. 

The beginning chords are soft and slow, gentle enough to lull you to sleep if you sink into it, and the recording is so vivid that you can hear the dull thud of each key beneath the press of his fingers.

Your heart races when Eddie’s voice seeps into the melody. It’s a ballad, something Corroded Coffin doesn’t have much of, and you wonder why because the softness of Eddie’s voice is arguably one of the most heavenly sounds to have ever touched your ears.

I'm feeling a way, off some kinda drug

Maybe it's lust, maybe it's love

I know I said I'd straighten out a week ago

I'm fiending though, 'bout to reach my peak, you know

The city's got me falling now

It’s… fuck, it’s fucking good, and you haven’t even gotten to the chorus, but god, your heart skips a beat at the following line because it’s a direct callout to you.

I'm fading away, I'm losing my head

I know you said leave, but fuck what you said

As much as you wish you could say you hate it… you don’t.

Even though the song is about you and your twisted relationship with Eddie— which definitely aids to your feelings towards the track— it’s genuinely a good song. Which, okay, is slightly annoying, but you can’t find it in yourself to care as the song carries on.

The future's never looked so bright, it's blinding me

It's hard to see, I'm swimming through dopamine

Your body looks like heaven and

I wanna give up, I just wanna leave

I'm floating away, I'm caught in the breeze

The outro of the song comes and slows down, a softer sound than before filling your ears, and shit— you’re at the edge of your seat now because Eddie is singing so gently, and it has your mind swirling. 

I can't believe this is happening

What did I do? What did she do to me?

…

Mending my brain again

Please don't give up on me

This hurts tremendously

How will this end for me?

When the song dies off, you can hear shuffling again before the track ends, and you’re left with spinning thoughts as you take your headphones off and let the silent and dark room envelope you.

You have to take a moment, yanking the string of the bedside lamp to light up the room so you can see your thoughts more clearly because— how do you feel? You’re not sure, honestly, and the thud of your heart beating in your chest only clouds your judgment even more because— isn’t this what you asked for? For Eddie to be open and honest with you, to tell you his true feelings and where he’s at when it comes to you. And is it enough?

Would it ever be enough for Eddie to give you one simple, stripped-down track to allow him the chance to mend what he’d ruined? 

Your heart wants it to be enough, but realistically, it’s not. Eddie has only just begun his journey to forgiveness, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not wrong to be hesitant to let him in, neither is it bad for you to want him as badly as you do. You’re both learning, and you’re both trying to fix the damage that’s been done, and it might take time, but if you both want it— if Eddie really wants you— then the time and work it takes to fix things won’t be a bother.

You listen to the song two more times, maybe more than twice, and you let the words sink into your bones until you practically have it engraved into your mind, lulling yourself to sleep with the haunting echo of Eddie’s voice and words bouncing in the walls of your skull.

And in your dreams, you meet Eddie, and for the split second you have with him there, everything is perfect— and by the time you wake up, the ticking time bomb to make your choice is now louder than it’s ever been before.

————

part eleven

————

a/n: OMG HIII, you made it to the end again !!! i would just like to specify that the song eddie has written and sang for birdie in this chappy (23 x chase atlantic) is not entirely a nod towards their relationship! reader is not specifically 23 years old nor is she struggling with any type of substance abuse, the lines that were used in this chapter are the lines that actually adhere to them imo, OKAY I THINK U GET IT I'LL SHUT UP NOW.

also, this is not the last of the songs that eddie has written abt birdie btw🫣

i hope u enjoyed and i love love love reading any and all feedback as well as ur silly thots <3 AND AS ALWAYS, TY FOR READING, I LOVE U SO BIG MWAH <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting

#WOOOO #TWO MORE CHAPPIES TO GO GUYS HEHEHE #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things au #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader #journalist!reader #Spotify

[oftidheard]

oop coryo x reader where reader is his gf before the lucy gray thing and lucy kills her at some point (she’s not a tribute) which is why he hates lucy and why he turns evil

i tweaked this a little because i love lucy gray and don't want to fall victim to villainising the canon love interest, hopefully it still works ♡ general warning as always for just coriolanus himself, as well as blood & death. + gn reader because gender descriptors never came up

❄ i turn into dust, but you never stop trying ㅤ⠀coriolanus snow x reader ㅤ⠀↳ 1.1k ↳ angst ↳ gender neutral

your swift footsteps approach coriolanus once you see that his tribute has wondered off to get a proper look at the arena, just as your own has. he notices you almost immediately — he's always had the uncanny ability to know even just when you've entered a room — and meets your eyes.

a moment later you're stood close to him, a hand reaches for his own accompanied by desperate whispers.

"you need to convince lucy gray to ally with sol," you beg, having broached the topic with your boyfriend earlier but always ended with the same fact that he was certain lucy gray would not cooperate with such a plan; allying with the frail girl from district five.

"she'll never survive on her own, but she's not useless, coryo. no one else will want her, but with lucy gray she'd be safe."

coriolanus takes a breath, wrapping his hand around yours in a slight comforting gesture, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth barely downturned, in thought.

he knows, deep down, that if you asked enough, that if you started to cry and he had to watch tears roll down your cheeks; he'd give in. even if it was just a lie, even just to falsely promise you something so you aren't vexed late at night. he knows he'd do it, for you, but he also knows you're not going to make a scene about this, nor rest the fate of your relationship with him on whether his tribute assists yours.

coriolanus sighs and ghosts a finger across your jawline, "i've already asked her," a lie — he truly believes there's no point in an endeavour he knows lucy gray will reject, "but i will again," a truth. if you're lucky.

you let out a deep breath and nod, your worry still causing you to lean back and forth on the balls of your feet and remain unable to control the river of overthinking running through your head, but coriolanus's presence is starting to calm you down.

your head meets his chest for a moment as you try to reassure yourself that everything's okay, his thumb running over your hand quietly, and the shield the two of you have created around yourselves drowns out any other worries. you only lift your head seconds later when the real world floods back in and you give him a small smile — ingenuine, but a sign to say that you'll be okay.

you turn around to walk further to the centre of the arena, crossing the bold designs to where you see sol on the outskirts of most of the other tributes, who appear to be forming teams and deciding enemies. you just hope until coriolanus talks to lucy gray again, that the others simply view your tribute as too weak to be a threat. that feels like the only way she could have a chance at this rate.

your shoes echo against the ground, and you catch other mentor's conversations in passing as you quickly pass the centre of the arena displaying a welcoming smile to sol — who's now noticed your return — when you feel a shift.

you register the rumbling in your chest before your recognise that your feet are no longer on the ground, that you've been flung through the air.

all there is now is the ringing in your ears and the dull thud of your head hitting the ground, the tingling feeling running down your spine and the numbness growing in your right leg.

it's like you have all the time in the world as you force yourself to sit up, like you're stuck in slow motion and if you were to stop and smell the roses for a moment, the world would let you take the little break until you're ready to face your fate again.

not far behind from where your hand searches the back of your head for traces of blood, and your brain slowly starts to register the speed of your heartbeat in tune with the sounds of screams surrounding you, lies coriolanus.

his mind is overcome with the need to survive, up until the moment lucy gray frees his body from beneath the pillar and his eyes flicker across the arena only to land on you; leant over your still trapped leg, almost surrounded by flames ready to swallow you.

his breathing grows ragged not from the physical exertion nor the growing clouds of smoke; but from the realisation that if you don't free your leg within the next blink of an eye, the carnage will claim you, and you'll die.

coriolanus doesn't consciously make the choice to step further into the destruction — if he were thinking logically, if he couldn't see the blood flowing from the back of your delicate head, he'd probably turn and run; save himself. but his feet keep drawing him towards you.

debris is still falling around him as he picks up the pace on his shaky legs, when a hand from behind grabs his wrist, immediately trying to furiously tug him back.

coriolanus turns to find lucy gray behind him, hair amess and eyes wide in terror, her lips moving as her pull on his arm never ceases, but he cannot hear a word she says.

he yells something to her not even loud enough for his own ears, something that screams of you, that you're dying just steps away and the longer he stands here the quicker you'll succumb.

lucy gray's eyebrows furrow in recognition, but still she gestures to the exit and pulls on coriolanus's arm. he shakes his head, and tries to pull away against the weak girl who shouldn't even be a match against himself.

but as he tries to run, something roars above; a crack like lightning followed by the roof almost caving in.

this throws the pair back, still upright but unsteady, and blocks coriolanus's view of you in a flash.

his attention is far too focused on the debris that separates you from him, to even begin to fight against lucy gray's force again.

he finds something inside him take over, and his feet run quick with lucy gray until they reach the gates of the arena. but even as he runs, coriolanus's mind fixates on the warm hand of the girl beside him and how her touch all of a sudden disgusts him. the firm hold of the girl who can't not have seen your body slowly losing its life just ahead of her, the girl who is more than perceptive enough to know you meant something to the boy.

lucy gray is the girl who in some nauseous way is the reason you aren't running out of this arena with him now. lucy gray is the girl — if even for a moment that coriolanus will undoubtedly soon bury away deep where it cannot affect him — that he no longer feels the overwhelming desire to keep alive.

coriolanus thinks, as he and her survive the fray, that he wants lucy gray baird dead for what she did to you.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x y/n #thg x reader #❤︎ — the mockingjay sings

[lunemai]

•• -Mornings With You- ••

Demigod!Y/n x Luke Castellan

Summary - Waking up with Luke on your birthday in a cabin near the beach feels like a dream or at least it was going to be, until some people decided to interrupt.

Warnings - Y/n's godly parent is not specified, she/her pronouns, softness, talk of kids, kissing, no betrayal universe, teeth rotting fluff, marriage, and that's it I think.

part one - part two || can be read as a standalone. ||

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The distant waves and the birds singing walking the shoreline are sounds you look forward to when waking up, this time, it was a different sound, a more annoying sound, a very familiar voice.

"I didn't even mean it like that-" Percy tries to say but is quickly interrupted by the sound of Annabeth's voice, "Yes, you did."

"Okay, you came to my house on this glorious peaceful morning to talk about your.. -marital problems?" Luke talks in between both of them. I can practically hear Annabeth's eye roll, "Of course not, we came to give your prisoner her annual 'congrats on not dying' birthday cake." right. 

Everyone knows as demigods living a long and prosperous life is not guaranteed, therefore; congrats on not dying birthday cake. Though I think that's what every “normal” person gets, it's just very subtle.

“what? she’s not my prisoner.” I hear Annabeth scoff as I get up from bed and head towards the bathroom door inside mine and Luke’s room, quietly. duh. 

“right.” Annabeth says, there’s a pause before Luke answers, “Right?” though he’s trying to be assertive it sounds more like a question than a statement. 

there’s another pause before I hear that same voice that woke me in the first place, “So are you going to let us in or??” I hear Annabeth shove past him and Luke and head towards the kitchen where the boys also seem to follow.

since I can no longer hear their voices I finally enter the bathroom to brush my teeth and my hair, no one wants to look like a monster around Demi-gods of all people, might end up without a head.

coming out of the room I immediately hear the sound of Percy and Annabeth having a conversation about why having too much blue food coloring could ultimately be damaging.

Finally coming into view I see Luke making coffee with his back facing us and the soulmates sitting in bar stools awaiting their drinks.

Percy has a cherry muffin in front of him and Annabeth had buttery popcorn, in the morning.

“Oh hey sleepy head, I’m surprised your kidnapper lets you out of your room,” Annabeth says, Luke turns around with a coffee mug in his hand and leans against the kitchen counter while Percy simply awaits Luke’s rebuttal.

“Same, I guess I must be his favorite victim,” I say, encouraging Annabeth to jab at the fact Luke and I haven’t left our home in 2 weeks since our honeymoon.

“who’s side are you on?” Luke says with his brows furrowed. “The winning side, mine,” Annabeth answers for me.

I raise an eyebrow at Luke walking towards him, wrapping my arms around his waist once I reach him to look up at his eyes.

“Hi, baby.” He says looking down at me he places one hand on my hip, and his forehead meets mine.

“Hi handsome, you make any for me?” I say pointing at the mug in his other hand with my eyes. 

he squeezes my hip his hand and nudges my nose with his, “Of course I did, you’re my favorite victim.” he meets my lips with a matching soft smile on his face, 2, 4 seconds and I hear a voice,

“Did you make any for us?” of course, it’s Percy.

sadly, Luke pulls away from the kiss to look at Percy. “You think I want you to have any more energy than you already do?” 

Percy sighs in disbelief, “What energy? I’m a ball of sarcasm, not happiness.” Luke lets out a laugh and replies, “Sure Perse, there should be enough in the pot.”

Luke looks back down at me and pecks my cheek, “You want your ‘congrats on not dying cake’ or me and the beach first?”

with a soft laugh, I respond “Depends, who made it this time?” I say while turning to look at the two occupying the kitchen island.

“Me.” Annabeth says, and that’s all I need to hear, “Cake first then.” Percy shrugs and decides I have a right to say that after last year’s cake.

“I thought adding salt to things made it more flavorful or whatever, I mean they do it with chocolate milk.” even though he’s right, a whole cup of salt on a cake was not the right move.

“Right, but the point is not to aim for a salty flavor.” I have to admit, reading and following instructions will never be an easy feat for a Demi-god, dyslexia, and all that.

“That’s why you have to re-read things Percy,” Annabeth says while getting the cake out of the box. 

Annabeth hands each of us a slice of red velvet cake and we all eat with glee laughter, and sarcasm since Percy and Annabeth are here.

“Okay, now that we ate and used dishes we don’t have to wash, Happy birthday prisoner, try to find an escape route soon,” Annabeth says standing up to hug me and put her dish in the sink for Luke to wash later.

“Yeah, thanks for using water in the only way I could never, Luke,” Percy says also putting his dish in the sink on top of Annabeth's. 

“Don’t worry, I know I can handle water more than you, son of Poseidon,” Luke says gathering mine and his dish, to stack them atop the rest.

“Happy birthday newly kidnapped.” that didn’t sound grammatically correct, but I wouldn’t know. 

“Thanks, Perse, and also thank you for not making the cake.” with a nod full of fake sympathy, Percy and Annabeth walk out the door with a last goodbye hug and a wave.

closing the cabin door, I feel arms wrap around my back, leaning against Luke I feel his chin on my shoulder.

“You know the beach will be here all day,” he says in between the kisses he’s now placing on my collarbone, all leading up towards my jawline.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one,” I say closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation of him making a path of kisses up my neck.

“so maybe, we should just go back to bed for a little while.” he finally reaches my cheek, and I open my eyes to turn my head towards his, nudging my nose against his.

“That sounds like a great plan,” I say turning around in his arms to put my hands on his chest.

“Yeah?” he says softly with a deep and passionate kiss following.

breathing heavily I manage to respond

“Yeah.”

notes: this is my first fic in sooo long!! i’m so happy to have this done, it’s 1,081 words and i’m so ducking proud of that.

Thank you sm for reading! I promise there’s many more coming.

REQUEST ARE VERY MUCH OBLIGED.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #pjo #luke castellan fic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #luke castellan fluff #annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #percy and luke #luke castellan imagine

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 9

Summary: Ellie finds out about the two of you.

WC: ~2.2k

Ellie still doesn’t know about your relationship with Melissa. It’s not like much has changed since entering this relationship with the redheaded woman that lives across the hall. She still comes over almost every night, the two of you cook dinner, cuddle with Ellie on the couch before putting her to bed, and then you stay up and have another glass of wine together. Occasionally, she spends the night, but she sneaks out early enough that Ellie doesn’t see, and you’ve avoided your daughter’s meltdowns since that first night that she caught the two of you asleep in bed without her.

But it’s getting to a point where you think maybe you should tell her. Especially when Melissa casually brings up the fact that her lease is ending soon. 

“Yeah,” she says quietly as she thumbs through her mail. “And my rent is going up… asshole landlord hasn’t upped my rent in six years, and here we are.”

You frown at that. “What have you been paying?”

“Less than you,” she snorts.

“By how much?”

“You pay what?”

“Upwards of two grand,” you sigh. “Why do you think I still DoorDash occasionally?”

“Hun,” she sighs.

“I have to make it all work… and Jared is so behind on child support right now,” you roll your eyes. “I’m about to lawyer up again.”

“You know I have a guy,” she tells you. “And I ain’t paying that. I’m paying like eleven hundred a month.”

“What the fuck?” your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“An’ he’s still only raising my rent to sixteen hundred,” she says. “But that’s way cheaper than the shit that you’re paying… he’s practically robbing you. Should just move in with me, and we can split it.”

“What?” you raise a brow.

She shrugs. “We practically live together anyway. It’d make sense.”

You hum thoughtfully before turning in her arms. She isn’t wrong, in all actuality. But making it official and moving in with her would mean… you shrug and settle against her to finish the movie that you’re in the middle of watching while you grade papers and she goes through her mail.

“I’m not sayin’ you have to make any big choices or anything, and I know your lease don’ end for another four months, but give it some thought.”

That’s the end of that conversation, and you curl into her once you’re done grading. Her arm is draped lazily around you, settling on your thigh.

Melissa ends up renewing her lease, grumbling about the increase in her rent- although you remind her that she can’t really complain when she’s still paying half a grand less than you. The next two months fly by, and then you really do have to start considering Melissa’s offer of moving in with her and splitting the rent.

You’re laying together in bed one night when you broach the subject hesitantly.

“My lease is ending in two months,” you say softly.

She turns to look at you. “Yeah.”

“And my rent is going up too,” you sigh. “I really don’t know if I can afford to stay in this complex.”

“Just move in with me,” she says without hesitation. “I already told you that.”

You smile softly. “I didn’t know if you meant it or not though.”

“Course I did,” the redhead chuckles. “I meant it two months ago, and I mean it now. We practically live together as it is; don’ make sense that we’re both shelling out a shit ton of money to just end up in bed together at night.”

“I mean, Ellie still doesn’t know.”

Melissa sighs at that. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that too. I think it’s time we tell her, although I do think that a part of her knows.”

“I do too, but… any time I bring up her father… you’ve seen how she reacts.”

“I do, and I’m usually the one she clings to after the initial meltdown,” Melissa tells you. “I think… that while it might be weird for her mother to have a new significant other, it’ll help soften the blow that it’s me.”

“Yeah,” you hum quietly. “I think you might be right. We’ll just have to introduce it to her slowly, and then… if she’s okay with it, we can bring up all moving in together.”

The next day, the two of you take Ellie out to the park after school. She’s all grins as she hands Melissa her backpack and races off towards the slide in the middle of the playground.

The two of you settle on one of the benches to keep your eyes on your little girl, and Melissa wraps an arm around you. Usually, the two of you wouldn’t do this anywhere but on your couch, her couch, or in your bed, but if you’re going to go public about your relationship, this might be an easy way to ease Ellie into it.

The redhead keeps her arm around you as the two of you chat about your days, and you settle a hand on her thigh. It’s warm, it’s comforting, it’s what you’re used to in the confines of your homes. And when your daughter yells over to get your attention as if the two of you haven’t been watching her run up the steps and slide down the slide for the last five minutes, she giggles when she sees how close the two of you are.

“Miss Mel! Take a video!” Ellie shouts from the top.

With her free arm, she fishes her phone out of her jacket pocket and points it towards the little one. 

“Okay, Ellie girl,” Melissa smiles. “Go ahead!”

As soon as your daughter’s beaming little face comes down to the bottom, she’s sprinting over to the two of you. Without any questions, she settles herself in both of your laps and grins.

“Can I see?”

She hands Ellie her phone and allows your daughter to watch with a grin. Your daughter giggles leaning up to kiss Melissa’s cheek. The redhead responds with a kiss to Ellie’s temple, and then one to yours.

Ellie looks over at you with the most curious face. “Why did Miss Mel just kiss your head like Daddy used to?”

You blush furiously, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. “Because… well, baby…” You don’t quite know how to say this.

“Because I love your momma,” Melissa cuts in gently.

“Well, duh,” Ellie giggles. “She loves you too.”

It’s clear that what Melissa was trying to get at goes right over Ellie’s head, and she looks to you.

“Miss Mel kissed my head because… Miss Mel and I are kind of in a relationship like the one Daddy and I were in,” you phrase awkwardly, not quite knowing how to explain this to the little girl sitting in your lap.

Ellie’s eyes go wide. “Wait, really? Girls can like like girls?”

“Yeah, sweetness,” you tell her gently. “And Miss Mel and I like each other in a romantic way.”

Ellie sits thoughtfully for a few seconds before shrugging. “That’s cool. I like like Anna, so…” then she breaks out into a grin. “Can we get ice cream?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Why don’t you go run around a little more, and then I’ll consider it.”

The six year old leaps off of your laps before running over to the swings and starting to pump her legs. You watch her in wonder.

“I’d say that was easier than we thought it would be,” Melissa hums as she taps away at her phone.

“Yeah,” you hum. Then you purse your lips just slightly. “I think my daughter just came out to me at the age of six.”

“I think she did too,” Melissa chuckles as she continues to look at her phone. “At least she doesn’t have to worry about fear of rejection from her mother when she’s older.”

You chuckle softly before laying your head down on her shoulder. You glance down to see what your girlfriend is doing, and it turns out she’s adding the video of Ellie going down the slide to an album on her phone.

“What’s this?” you ask softly.

“Just an album where I keep pictures and videos of you and El,” Melissa tells you as if it’s nothing.

When you look at the album name, it’s labeled with a singular red heart.

“Oh?” you raise a brow and place your hand over your heart. It may be the fact that you’ve had a child, or the fact that you’re currently hormonal as hell, but your eyes well with tears.

“I look at it when I’m having a rough day with my kids,” she tells you. “It always makes my day a little brighter.”

“Can I see the pictures?”

Melissa hands you the phone, and you look through it. The contents make your heart so light. There are so many pictures of you just strumming your guitar or ukulele, a few videos of you singing as the sunlight hits your face nearly perfectly. And there are even more pictures and videos of your daughter- running around, singing her own little songs, hugging her, smiling brightly.

“I didn’t know you had half of these,” you whisper.

“I like to take pictures and videos when you guys don’t really know,” she shrugs. “Natural and beautiful.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you reply, but you do send a few pictures to yourself from her phone.

After Ellie runs around for a bit longer, you do give into your girl’s puppy dog eyes for ice cream. and you notice from your peripheral vision Melissa’s camera snapping pictures of both you and your daughter enjoying your ice cream.

And then the three of you head home, she makes you dinner, and you enjoy every bite of it. When you curl up on the couch, Ellie is immediately in your lap, and Melissa’s arm is around you, squeezing your hip gently.

You hand your remote to the little girl, but she just looks at you and your girlfriend. “I have questions.”

“About?”

You two.”

“Shoot,” Melissa says shortly.

“Do you and Momma kiss?” She nods. “Do you and Momma love each other?” Melissa nods again. “Are you gonna be like my second Momma?”

At that, you bite your lip, but the redhead takes this one. “Your momma and I love each other and everything, but we’re taking it slow and seeing where it takes us.”

Ellie nods thoughtfully. “Are we going to live together?”

“What makes you ask that?” you ask softly.

The six year old shrugs. “Don’t couples live together?”

“Sometimes,” Melissa tells her. “Maybe in time.”

“We all practically live together anyway,” your daughter says as she reaches for the remote that you set aside. She turns on her program and lounges against the two of you. “Let’s make one thing clear though, Momma: Miss Mel is still mine.”

“Hear that?” your girlfriend jostles you gently. “It’s me and El for life.”

“I suppose I have to make peace with the fact that my daughter is closer to my girlfriend than I am,” you sigh dramatically as you kiss both of their heads.

A bit later, you both take the little girl to bed and tuck her in. She practically begs for a story from your neighbor before she finally settles in for the night.

“Stay tonight?” you ask Melissa once you exit your daughter’s room. She pulls you in gently and pecks your lips.

“I’d love nothing more,” she sighs softly before leading you into the bedroom.

Once the two of you get situated, you exhale slowly. “So… I’m thinking maybe we should move in together?”

“Yeah?” She cranes her neck to look at you. “You moving to my place, or am I moving in here?”

“Well, since you already renewed your lease, and it would be way cheaper with your landlord situation… your place? It should be an easy move too- just across the hall.”

“I would be more than happy to have the two of you join me,” Melissa smiles. “You know I use my second bedroom for storage mostly anyway- for shit I don’t need anymore but hold onto… it’ll force me to get rid of some of it.”

“Really?” you ask.

“For the two of you? It’s no question,” she promises you as she kisses your temple again.

You snuggle up against her and drift off to sleep.

You wake up in her arms, thankful it’s a weekend for the two of you to sleep in while Ellie entertains herself playing dress up and having a tea party with her stuffed animals in her room.

The sunlight streams in through your curtains, and you spend a decent amount of time in a sleepy haze with your girlfriend. Only when you roll over to get out of bed do you look at your phone.

And there it is- the one thing that could throw everything you know in this new life for a loop: a text from your ex-husband.

I’m in Philly this weekend. We should talk.

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[star-eyed-angels]

Oblivious

Changbin x female reader

angst/fluff 1.8k

Where your boyfriend is a little oblivious and awful at names.

AN: Request for @jin-from-the-block hope you like it❣️ Some. pre-valentine's angst because I clearly enjoy hurting my own feelings.

______

It’s the week of valentine’s day and everything feels like it’s falling apart. The apartment you share with Changbin has practically become a war zone. Every time you both enter a shared space the bickering and snide comments turns into an all out screaming match. It’s come to a point where he doesn’t bother coming home, choosing to spend the night at the dorms. To Changbin’s credit you’re doing the same thing. You’re all but hiding from your boyfriend at this point, taking longer shifts at work just to avoid him. 

Changbin can’t figure out exactly what went wrong. All he knows is that it started a week ago. One day everything is great and he feels like the luckiest guy on earth. Then the next you’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. At first he’d brushed off your behavior, thinking it was just because you were having an off day, but by dinner time the fighting had begun. 

Now it’s the day before Valentine’s Day and you’re still giving him the cold shoulder. He can’t help the way he keeps glancing at his phone, waiting for a text from you that will let him know everything is back to normal. Hours pass with him holed up in the studio, not a single call or text from you. At first he’s angry. Angry at you for the cold attitude you have towards him. But now as he unlocks his phone scrolling through the notifications for any sign of you, he’s just sad. Normally you’re blowing up each other’s phones when you’re apart, but now it’s just silence.

The sound of something hitting the desk startles Chan and Jisung from their spots across the room. They both look over to see Changbin with his head on the desk. Chan and Jisung share a look, Jisung jerking his head towards Changbin. 

“Bin, you good?” Chan calls out gently. He only gets a grunt in response. 

“Hyung, why don’t you just go home? You’re mind’s not here anyways,” Jisung says, spinning his chair around. 

 “I can't, she doesn’t want me there.” he lifts his head, dragging his hands down his face. 

“How do you know that?” Chan says, now facing Changbin as well. He huffs, glancing at his phone with a sad look.

“She won’t even talk to me. And everytime she does it just turns into a fight,” his says sadly. Jisung and Chan share another look. Jisung gives their leader a look, Chan only shakes his head. 

“Look, Jisung is right. You haven’t been able to focus in days. There’s no point in you forcing yourself to stay here,” he says. He quietly stands from his chair, going over to shut Changbin’s laptop carefully. 

“You should try and talk to her, sitting here isn’t going to help fix whatever is going on between you two”. Changbin glances back down at his phone screen that’s lit up with his lockscreen. The picture of the two of you staring back at him. A picture of his favorite day, spent completely with you. It makes him miss you even more. He decides then that he’s going to get through to you one way or another. 

He’d walked into your apartment hoping to have a normal conversation with you. Instead you’d looked up from your place on the couch and huffed, turning back to your phone. 

Only this time Changbin’s had enough, fed up at your unprovoked attitude towards him. He’s getting you to talk to him.

“Okay enough already, what’s your problem? You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for days now and I’m over it,” unable to suppress his anger any longer.

You scoff, getting up and trying to make your way into the bedroom. You’re still not in the mood to talk with him, the rational part of your brain tells you to stop. But your broken heart holds you in its shackles. Changbin follows you, unwilling to go another night like this. 

“See! There you go again, walking away like a brat!” He says bitterly. You whip around to look at him, jamming a finger into his chest. It startles him slightly, not used to this side of you.

“Don’t call me a brat Changbin. I’m not a fucking child,” you seethe. 

“Well you’re acting like one,” he fires back. Any thoughts of having a rational conversation with you have since disappeared. 

“I have every right to be fucking pissed at you,” you defend. Your mind stuck on what he’d done to upset you. 

“At me? What the hell did I do?” he asks in disbelief. You scoff, crossing your arms in front of you. Changbin groans, running his hands through his hair. 

“God, can’t you just use your words for five seconds? You say you’re not a child, but look at how you’re acting! You won’t even tell me what’s wrong, I’m not a mind reader, I can’t just magically know why you’re acting so goddamn crazy!” he yells. You blink back the stinging in your eyes at his words. 

“Fuck you.” you finally say, your voice cold and empty as you do it. Changbin feels his own eyes sting at your response. He stares at you for a few more seconds before he shakes his head in defeat.

“I don’t get why you’re so angry at me, I haven’t done anything to you. You won’t tell me what’s wrong, and if I did something I want to fix it, but I can’t if you don’t tell me. So please, please just fucking talk to me already. I can’t keep dancing in circles with you y/n,” he pleads quietly. 

The way he says your name makes your stomach curl. The pure exhaustion in his voice makes your heartbreak more than it already has. You stare at him, searching for any sign he’s lying to you. He stares back at you with his own heartbreak in his eyes.

“You really have no idea, do you?” you ask softly.

Of what? Why you’re acting this way? No, absolutely none,” he responds just as quiet. When you turn away Changbin sighs, turning to leave. 

“Okay fine. Don’t talk to me. I’m going to the dorms. I’ll be there if you decide you want me” he says. He’s about ready to bolt before he starts crying in front of you. 

“Six.” you say quietly. 

“What?” Changbin turns to look back at you. You’re still facing away from him, staring down at the ground. He watches you take a deep breath before you finally turn to face him. 

“Six times. You’ve called me by her name six times,” you say solemnly. 

For a moment Changbin just stares at you, confused at what you’re telling him. Then it finally kicks in at who the her you’re referring to is. HIs blood runs cold as the images of his ex dance across his mind.

“No, I didn’t,” he’s quick to defend. You shake your head, feeling the stinging sensation in your eyes again. 

“Yes, you did. It started when we were out at the cafe, and I didn’t say anything because I know it’s the cafe that you found out she was cheating on you in,” you start to explain. Changbin moves to say something, but you don’t let him get a word out. 

“Then it happened on the way home, and again I didn’t say anything because it’s an honest mistake. But then you kept doing it. And then you said it when we were in front of your members and I just-” you sniffle, swiping your hand across your face quickly. 

“Baby, I didn’t- I-” he’s at a loss for words, instead he just gapes at you. Your heart sinks a bit, more tears pouring out at his reaction. 

“When you said it in front of your members they all looked at me like I was something to pity. That’s why I left early. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you. Because to be honest I can’t bear to look at you,” you finally confess, your voice cracking the more you continue. Changbin stares on in horror, his eyes watering. 

“Things happen and I know that, but you look at me like you’re so in love and then you say her name. How am I supposed to be okay with that? How do I not think about everything that she is and I’m not. I can't look at you and wonder if she’s what’s on your mind, that she’s the one you want,” you cry out. Changbin’s crying at this point, his head dropped into his hands. The action does little to stop the small hiccups that escape him. 

“And if-” you pause, the mere thought of what you’re about to say makes you nauseous, “and if you’re cheating on me or talking to someone else can you please just tell me? Because if you don’t love me anymore I need you to tell me now, I don’t think my heart can bear much more of this,” you plead. You’re also crying freely at this point, the heartbreak you’ve been bottling in finally overcoming you. Changbin has already been feeling lightheaded from the amount of crying he’s done in such a short time. But those words nearly make his knees buckle. 

“No! No, god no. I know I’m stupid and clearly an oblivious fucking idiot. But I would never do anything to betray you that way,” he says firmly. You turn away from him, still too emotional to really look at him.

“I know I’ve fucked up, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for making you feel this way. But I’ll only ever want you, and I’m so sorry for hurting you like this,” he says softly, “You- you’re it for me. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I didn’t know I needed”. 

You’re still searching for any signs that he’s lying when you turn towards him. He only looks at you with his watery eyes and a serious expression. You start crying harder, reaching out to him. He’s already taking a step towards you the second your hands reach for him. He crushes you against him, like if he lets you get too far you’ll leave him.

“I’m so sorry baby. I wish you would have said something,” he says, burying his face into your hair as he hiccups quietly.

“It’s okay-” you start but he’s quick to cut you off. He pulls away from your hair, making sure to look directly at you. 

“No. It’s not. If I do anything to hurt you I need you to tell me. No more of this holding it in, I thought I was going to lose you for good,” he says softly. You press a gentle kiss at the base of his neck, hugging him tighter. 

“You won’t, I need you just as much as you need me,” you say quietly. Changbin’s sure you can feel his heart flutter at that. 

“I love you, he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your head. 

“I love you, too” you say, also sure that Changbin can feel the effect his words have on you.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids hurt/comfort #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #changbin x reader #changbin angst #changbin hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #writing

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Dishes

sanji x reader

a/n: fluff. UNEDITED.

summary: sanji and you having an unspoken connection but whose going to confess first?

The Sunny sailed through the night as Sanji placed several plates of food down onto the table; he laid out portions for each crew member and made sure everything was perfect before calling everyone down for dinner. Luffy, unsurprisingly, was the first to enter the kitchen followed by Chopper and Usopp. The cook watched the door behind where Luffy sat, the captain already digging into his food. Sanji’s eyes softened as you walked in alongside Zoro – the latter laughing at something you said. The fact that you could make the idiot swordsman laugh warmed Sanji’s heart, fluttering as your gaze met his. He turned beet red but immediately pulled out the chair next to Chopper and you thanked him.

“This looks so delicious,” you sighed contently, looking up to where Sanji stood over you. His eyes smiled when you reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Mr. Prince.”

He chuckled at the nickname and mentioned a second plate he had put away for you. “You know how Luffy is, let me know if you want it.”

You watched for a moment as he started making sure everyone was settled before Robin pulled you into a conversation about a book, she wanted you to read. The two of you talked quietly amongst each other while everyone else chatted and ate. The food, as always, was divine and Zoro had passed around a bottle of sake. From across the table, Sanji sat between Luffy and Franky, but his eyes were on you. Amused by the way your expressions you were making as Robin was speaking, Sanji could only smile. He wasn’t hungry much and casually slipped his plate to Luffy, heart stopping when you noticed the gesture and gave him a small, sweet beam. His entire body went warm, cheeks pink and he felt like he could split an entire ship in two with his foot.

“Where’s your head at, Sanji?”

Frankly nudged the man and he looked away from you, taking out a cigarette from his pocket. He lit the smoke and looked at his friend. “Sorry, just have a lot on my mind.”

“Oh, I think I know what you have on your mind,” Franky whispered, giving a little laugh. “You two crazy kids.”

Sanji said nothing but got up from his seat. Everyone but Luffy was finished with their meal, so he began to pick up the empty plates. Immediately, you got up and started to help even when he asked you not to. Ignoring him, you gathered a handful of plates and went to the sink while everyone else started to pile out of the kitchen. Zoro stuck around with Luffy, waiting for him to finish eating as he nursed more alcohol.

“Those two could out drink and eat anyone.”

Sanji moved next to you at the sink and placed the stack of dishes down, gently moving you aside so he could start washing the dishes. You laughed when he gave you a pointed smile and said how he didn’t want your fingers getting prune-y. “I know Nami just did your nails.”

“You are very thoughtful.” Holding up your hands, you asked if he liked the shade of color. “I’ve never used blue, but it reminded me of…well, anyways – what do you think?”

He grinned; hands deep into the water. “Any color looks good on you, but that blue – that blue is what I imagine the All Blue to look like.”

“Good.”

That’s all you could manage, so you proceeded to hip check the cook and took over the dishes. He frowned but you told him too bad. “You spent so much time cooking for us, the least I can do is wash the damn dishes. Got it?”

The demanding tone of your voice sparked a flame in Sanji’s heart, and he listened, asking if you’d like some coffee. “I can put the kettle on.”

You said yes and continued the task of the dishes, eyes wandering over to the table where Zoro and Luffy resided. The green haired man smirked in your direction as Sanji put the kettle on and then went to the table to finish picking up. Giving Zoro a quick shake of the head, you knew the teasing spark in his eyes and wanted nothing more than to shut him up with a fat dinner roll. He was the only one who knew about your feelings for the cook, and it had become a long running joke to him – any opportunity he would give you a hard time. Zoro grinned and you wanted to throw the wet dish in your hand at him, giving him a sharp look, which made him roar with laughter and you smile. Sanji, witnessing the exchange, frowned.

Had he been wrong? The signs – the looks, the smiles. Was it all in his head?

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe and the cigarette in his mouth tasted bitter.

Was there something going on between Mosshead and you?

The thought brought a pain in his chest, and he needed air – desperately. Excusing himself, he fled the kitchen through the door that led to the deck, and you watched hopelessly. Eyeing Zoro, he shrugged, and you rinsed off the soap. Drying your hands on a nearby kitchen rag, you pointed a finger at Zoro.

“Finish those dishes.”

He protested but you didn’t respond, heading out to find Sanji. The air was cool, the moon high above the ocean water. The ship swayed as you walked across the deck, spotting Sanji leaning out against the railing to the right of Nami’s trees. He looked pristine in his button up white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Profile delicate and handsome, a true Prince if you have ever seen one. He stared out to the sea, only turning when he heard your boots against the deck. He straightened up and asked if there was something you needed - the warmth from his eyes gone.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, did you want me to go make that coffee for you?”

Confusion held your tongue and Sanji pushed away from the railing, starting back toward the kitchen. He wasn’t cold but something was off with him, and you grabbed hold of his elbow. Sanji stopped but didn’t turn to face you. Instead, his head turned, giving you a perfect view of his profile – again, so devastatingly gorgeous.

“Out of curiosity, something going on between Mosshead and you?”

Laugh. That was all you could do at the mere notion of Zoro and you being anything other than friends, great friends. “He’s like my brother, Sanji. You know that don’t you?”

“I guess so.”

He attempted to walk away but you held it tight. A million thoughts ran through your head, desperate, anxious thoughts. Were you misreading all the looks? Smiles across the room? God, where you that dense! Maybe it was all wrong, maybe he didn’t feel the way you did. Now you were embarrassed but there was something far worse than embarrassment – not knowing. That would be unbearable.

“Don’t walk away from me, please,” you whispered, releasing your grip on him. Your shaky voice prompted Sanji to finally turn, and he nearly gasped at the tears in your eyes. Any somber feelings he had for himself vanished as he stepped forward to wipe away tears with his thumb. Your hands moved around his wrists, forcing him to look at you. “I love you, Sanji. I have for a while now and I thought…. I thought there would be a chance that you’d feel the same. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and if you don’t feel the same, please can we still be friends?”

Pure relief.

That was all Sanji could feel as the warmth of your fingers around his wrist comforted him against the cool night breeze. His heart pounded as his eyes bore into yours and he never felt happier in his life. He smiled softly and let out a low breath, kicking himself internally for ever making you feel any sort of sadness.

“I’m sorry for making you cry; it will never happen again.” He slipped from your grip and gently held your face, thumb caressing your cheek. “I will always be your friend, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more than I thought I could love anyone. I love you so much I was willingly to put aside my feelings when I thought Zoro and you were…”

“Never,” you chuckled, happy tears running down your face. Sanji grinned and begged you to stop crying. Nodding, you slipped both arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. He captured it with eyes closed and pulled you closer to him. His lips were soft, he tasted like cigarettes but that was to be expected and you could care less. Nothing mattered now that you were in Sanji’s arms, safe and warm. Loved and at ease.  It felt ecstatic, electric – it felt like you were finally where you truly belonged.

Sanji pulled away and kissed you on the forehead, arms holding you tight. “So, you still want that coffee?”

“Yes, please,” you whispered into his chest. He reached up and caresses your hair, giving you another peck on the forehead before reaching down for your hand.

“Come one, I’ll make you a cup and you can keep me company while I finish up the dishes.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the dishes,” you cooed, dipping your head back to look up at Sanji. His eyes were soft again, loving. “Zoro’s finishing them up.”

The mere thought made the cook laugh and you joined in, allowing him to guide you toward the kitchen. He held your hand gingerly and grinned. “I can’t wait to see that Mosshead doing all the dishes.”

.....................

OP tags:

@stuckinthewrongworld

@slytherinambitious

#sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece

[hauntedhokage]

at 1am

Nanami Kento/Reader (no pronouns)

word count: 665

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort

[crossposted to ao3] [prompt list]

He was late again. Absurdly late, this time, and the pristine kitchen tells him that you were feeling a way about it but didn’t want to call him. Which meant you had been crying, because that was mostly when you cried you didn’t want to talk to him. 

The half melted candles in the trash did a great job of telling him how long you’d waited, since they’d been sitting in the cabinet to wait for a special occasion so he knew they’d been burning for at least an hour until you gave up on the ambience - gave up on him - and started cleaning up. He wasn’t going to ruin your tidy kitchen, so instead he quietly makes his way through the apartment to get to the bedroom. 

He’s concerned when it’s empty. You’re not asleep, not sitting up in bed with a book waiting for him to be subjected to your frustrated glare, just the neatly made bed. The concern bubbles into fear when he enters the bathroom and sees most of your grooming supplies gone. No hair supplies, no toothbrush, body wash and shampoo all gone with just a note taped to the mirror that he didn’t bother to open.

When he pulls his phone from his pocket he catches the time, and he didn’t realize that it was that late. 1:15am stares back at him, covering part of your forehead in the picture that was his lockscreen. You should be asleep, but something tells him that you’re not and he runs the gamble of calling to see where you were.

Four rings, then he’s sent to voicemail. You were awake when you should have been sleeping, almost like you were waiting for him.

So he calls again. This time you answer after two rings. 

“So I exist now?”

“Where are you?” He knows better than to feed into your emotions when you’re mad at him. He knows that meeting your emotion with his own will only cause more problems, and any hope for an objective conversation would be gone for at least a week. “I just got home.”

“Don’t call it your home, Kento. You and I both know that your home is that office.” 

“My home is with you, that’s why I’m working so hard to ensure that you’re taken care of.”

“So you skip our anniversary dinner? It’s after 1am and you’re just now getting back!?”

You were getting more emotional, and he actually doesn’t know how to fix it if he’s not looking at you. Usually he could defuse the bomb with eye contact as he spoke to you, you could see the sincerity in his words and believe him. But he also supposed after a while he couldn’t expect that to continue to work if his behavior wasn’t changing. 

“Please tell me where you are.”

“I don’t want to see you.”

“I’ll stay home. I just want to know that you’re somewhere safe.”

“I’m at a hotel. The one with the nice restaurant you took me to.” He nods, although you can’t see it as he’s writing the name down. He’d call in the morning to have breakfast sent to your room, it was the least he could do. “Do you love me, Kento?”

You’re tired and upset, obviously not thinking clearly if you’re asking him a question like that. But he supposed he understood why you’d ask. It hadn’t been just this dinner, after all. Repeated habits say a lot about a person, he just hates that it gives you a question like that. 

“Of course I love you.”

“Start acting like it.” You’ve hung up on him, ending the conversation with a simple directive that feels like a knife in his heart.  No declaration of love for him, no request that he drink some water or sleep well, just a directive that was so unlike you but he knows that he pushed you to that point. You were hurt, and he could only blame himself for that.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento angst #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #gender neutral fanfic #kento nanami angst #nanami kento x y/n #jk x reader #jjk imagines #nanami kento imagine #kento nanami imagine

[ssturniolo]

Can you please do a angst w matt? Where the reader has a crush on him but he rejects her, if you want to ofc!! 💕

Dream come true

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Matt x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - after rejecting y/n, Matt realizes he’s made a big mistake.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - Rejection, angst, kissing, sorry if I missed any. (Not proofread)

You’ve had a crush on Matt for as long as you can remember. It started out as something small when you were kids, but as you grew, the feelings did as well. It has gotten to the point where you just can’t hold it in anymore, you have to tell him.

You were all nerves as you drove to the triplets house, after sending Matt a “can we talk?” message. Arriving at their house, you took a deep breath as an attempt to calm your nerves. You unlock the door with shaky hands, hoping that Nick and Chris aren’t around.

As you enter the living room, you notice Matt already sitting on the couch, waiting for you. “Hey there” he says with a welcoming smile, patting the space besides him on the couch. You sit down, avoiding his eyes and instead, look down at your trembling hands.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” Matt says softly, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

“You know you can talk to me.”

Mustering up the courage, you take a long shaky breath, and look directly into his beautiful blue eyes. “I…I think I love you Matt” you say awkwardly, not waiting for his response before continuing. “It started when we were kids, and as we grew up together, well… my feelings grew I guess” you say, your voice thick with hope.

After a moment of silence, Matt sighs, taking both of your hands in his. “Y/n, I’m so sorry but I just don’t see you like that” he says quietly, avoiding your eyes. You pull your hands away, your cheeks tinted red with embarrassment.

“Oh… it’s ok. I’ll get over it” you say, standing up, keys already in hand.

Seeing his remorseful expression, you sigh.

“I’ll be ok, I promise.”

“I should probably go though, I have um, stuff to do” you say, giving him a tight lipped smile. As soon as you walk out the door, you let the tears fall. How were you this stupid? Of course he wouldn’t like you back.

***time skip***

It’s been two months since you had confessed, and things were pretty much back to normal. Although Matt never brought it up, there was now this undeniable tension between you two and you hated it. You mostly hated yourself for putting you guys in this position, and you would never make that same mistake again.

Sitting on the triplets couch in between Madi and Nick, you scrolled through TikTok, uninterested in the movie they were watching. You stand up and stretch, walking over to Matt’s bathroom, shouting a quick “be right back” to Nick and Madi.

Opening the bathroom door to head back to your previous spot on the couch, your surprised to see Matt standing there.

“I need to talk to you. Alone”

Immediately nervous, you think about the last conversation you guys had alone, fearing what might come out of Matt’s mouth. Reluctantly, you follow him into his room, sitting next to him on his bed.

“I was thinking about what you said to me a couple of months ago. And um, my response” he says nervously, looking down at his hands.

Shaking your head, you give him a sad smile. “It’s alright Matt, you don’t need to bring this up, I told you I’m fine” confused, as to why he would bring this up again.

“No y/n, it’s not that” he says, turning to face you.

“It’s just… I realized I made a mistake. These last two months have been torture, and I can’t stop thinking about you. Your kind, intelligent, caring, beautiful, and so fun to be around” taking ahold of your hands, he continues.

“And that’s why- that’s why I love you” he lets out, finally meeting your eyes.

“You… you love me?” You whisper, completely shocked at his confession.

Reaching out to cup your cheek, he nods, pulling you into a firm, but soft kiss. One hand tangled in his hair, and the other resting on his jaw, you tilt your head, deepening the kiss.

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. The man you thought you could never be with, was now kissing you as if you were the only girl in the world. This was simply a dream come true.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ik this is different then what you said, but I hate the thought of being rejected by him😭. If you want me to redo it where they don’t end up getting together just let me know. Honestly not my best work but it’ll do 🤷‍♀️. Next fic will be Chris I promise.

XOXO - Zoe

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #fypage #imagine #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp #matt sturniolo imagine #ssturniolo #ssturniolo writes #nick sturniolo #madi filipowicz

[teapartyprincess4two]

patiently waiting for ur nick fic 🫶

Truth or Dare- N. Sturniolo

pairing: fem!reader x bestfriend!Nick

classification: platonic fluff

warnings: use of y/n, mentions of alcohol, slight cursing, there’s one slightly creepy side character (brief), mention of throw up, very short

summary: Nick and his best friend always find themselves playing truth or dare.

—

“Truth or dare?” Nick asks mischievously, looking between you and the food court. You just ran into an old crush from high school and Nick saw this as the perfect opportunity to help you finally shoot your shot. The two of you are currently at the mall, wandering around to kill some time. After entering every single store, you decided to head over to the food court where you ran into your old crush, Abraham.

You, of course, know Nick’s up to no good and reply with, “Nick, please. Not here.” Over the years the two of you have developed a truth or dare system that had only 4 rules.

1. You must answer every truth HONESTLY

2. Complete EVERY dare no matter what

3. You can’t back down, no matter the place or time

4. You can’t pick the same answer twice in a row.

You trusted Nick enough not to cross any major boundaries when playing this game, but the rules did add an extra element of anxiety. “Thems the rules. Truth or dare?” He asks again, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You two sit at a random table in the food court, Nick’s eyes trained on Abraham from afar. If he loses sight of him, the whole game will be ruined.

Right now you wish you two never made up those stupid rules. Why couldn’t you two just play the game like regular people? “Truth,” you finally answer. If he’s going to make you do something stupid you might as well stall. He rolls his eyes, he knows what you’re doing. “Fine. Is it true that you still have a crush on that guy?” Nick points briefly in Abraham’s direction causing you to crane your neck so you can catch a glimpse of him. As if on cue, Abraham turns to meet your gaze. You immediately turn back towards Nick in embarrassment, “it’s true that I don’t want to play this game right now.”

Nick laughs at your answer and at the fact that you just got caught staring at your crush. You two were grown adults so that made this even funnier. “Yes, I still have a crush on him,” you finally answer quietly. Nick claps in excitement, he knew this was the perfect time to play this game.

“Okay, truth or dare?” He asks again quickly, watching as Abraham begins leaving the food court. “No bitch, it’s my turn! Truth or dare?” Nick groans, there’s no time for this!

“Truth,” he answers rapidly, he wants to choose dare but he knows you’ll make him do something so stupid that Abraham will be gone by then. “Is it true that you are a piece of shit and the worst friend ever!” you ask with your arms crossed over your chest. He glares at you as he replies, “Yes. Sure. Whatever.”

Nick gets up abruptly from the table and ushers you to do the same, Abraham was literally walking out of the mall. “Okay, Y/n. Truth or dare?” According to the rules you couldn’t pick truth even if you wanted to, so you’re really annoyed that he finds it necessary to pose the question each time. He looks at you expectantly, both of you still following closely behind Abraham in the crowded mall. “Dare, Nick. Like I have any other choice,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Go get his number,” he instructs, pushing you in the direction Abraham was disappearing into. There’s no point in fighting it when rule number 2 clearly states that you must complete every dare no matter what. “I fucking hate you,” you grumble as you begin a light jog in Abraham’s direction.

The idea of the dare is always more embarrassing than the dare itself. When you finally reach Abraham the conversation actually comes naturally. You don’t even have to ask for his number because he asks for yours firs, but you have him write his on a piece of paper so Nick can’t say you didn’t complete the job.

You walk back to Nick with the biggest smirk on your face, wiggling the piece of paper in his face. “Don’t fucking try me, bitch. I didn’t even have to ask for it,” you say, holding the piece of paper like it was an outstanding award. He rolls his eyes at you, only slightly shocked that you managed to pull it off.

“I did you a favor with that dare,” he comments with another eye roll as he begins to walk back to the food court. You follow closely behind as you reply, “truth or dare?” You watch as he halts abruptly and turns to face you.

“What? No. We’re done playing.”

You tsk at his response, “Nope. You asked me twice, now it’s my turn. So, truth or dare?” Nick stares at you blankly, realizing that there’s no escape. “Dare,” he crosses his arms over his chest proudly in an attempt to tell you that he’s unafraid of what you’re going to have him do.

Deep down he knows you’re going to make him do something stupid. So, as he waits for your dare, he wishes you two never made up those stupid rules.

—

Sweaty bodies and loud house music fill the atmosphere as you and Nick weave your way through the crowd. You’re leading the way, holding onto Nick’s hand so he won’t get lost in the array of drunk people. Nick and his brothers were never drinkers, so they were always bored at these things. Sometimes you wondered why they even bothered showing to these parties in the first place.

You’re currently looking for Matt and Chris, who are surely as bored you and Nick are. You’re a little tipsy, usually you’d get super drunk, but you didn’t want to be babysat all night. “They’re probably outside,” you yell to Nick over the loud music, still weaving in and out of the crowd. Nick attempts to read tour lips, but it’s hard when the house is so dark and the music is so loud. “I love this song!” he shouts back, bopping his head to the beat. He didn’t hear a single word you said, he’s just letting himself be led blindly through this busy house.

Finally you find Matt and Chris outside talking with some of their friends. Most of them are boys, but a few of girls are scattered here and there. Matt is leaned against the fence, a red solo up in hand. Chris is standing next to him, a soda can resting firmly in his grip. They look so bored, they’re honestly waiting for the perfect moment to excuse themselves and just go home.

Nick is the first to speak once you two approach them, “Matt, this party is boring. Let’s leave.” His voice is hushed so only Matt can hear him, causing Matt to lean into Nick slightly. Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough because a girl, who stood near Chris and Matt the whole night, heard this and whined, “Noooo, you guys can’t leave yet! The party’s just getting started!”

The four of you send her a weird look, not to be mean but because her insertion into the conversation was unwarranted. She had been following Matt and Chris around drunkenly all night in attempts to catch one of their attention, but it hasn’t worked yet. “C’mon we can play a game or something! OOOO SPIN THE BOTT- NO TRUTH OR DARE!” she continues, her drunken words slightly slurring.

You and Nick share knowing looks, there’s no way you’re going to play truth or dare at a party full of drunk idiots, especially not with the rules you guys have. “Umm no, we’re okay,” Nick replies in a passive aggressive tone before turning back to his brothers. You’re still look at the girl, watching as she desperately tries to come up with a way to get you all to stay. You kind of feel bad and speak without thinking, “we can play one game, right guys?”

Nick’s head snaps towards you. He sends you a tight lipped glare, signaling that you just said something stupid and he didn’t agree with your decision. “What? She looks so sad that we’re leaving,” you whisper, attempting to defend yourself and the poor girl who’s now drunkenly gathering a group of people for this game of truth or dare. “Bitch, you know how we play! We can’t play like that here! What if someone dares us to do something really bad,” Nick whisper yells back. You’re about to tell her never mind and make an excuse as to why you urgently need to leave, but there’s no turning back now. The girl from before has now gathered a group of around 10 people and is watching you all expectantly.

“It’ll be fine,” you reply quickly as you grab Nick’s hand and drag him to the circle of people. Matt and Chris share a look before following behind you two. They always found themselves roped into whatever trouble you and Nick were causing.

Due to everyone else’s drunken state, the game escalated very quickly. The dares started getting weird and the truths started becoming too personal.

“Okay, Y/n. Truth or dare?” a random guy asks. “Dare,” you sigh, taking a small sip of your drink. This game was slowly becoming boring for you. You had already kissed a stranger, chugged a few beers, raced a random guy, and you even jumped in the pool. You had done so many dares at this point that there was surely nothing left for you to do.

“I dare you to kiss me,” he says menacingly, a stupid smirk on his face. Yawn, so boring. This guy was known to be a jerk, he was constantly getting into fights or instigating them. Not to mention that he was a creep, he flirted with girls left and right and always took it too far. He was the last person you wanted to kiss, but you weren’t going to decline the dare. “Whatever,” you mumble, going in for a quick peck.

As soon as you try pulling away, his hands grab ahold of your face and hold you firmly in place. You try pushing him off of you, but he won’t budge. Instead he holds you so tight that the kiss becomes rough and you can feel his teeth. Nick notices how aggressive the guy is being, but he can’t tell if you’re uncomfortable or if the kiss is just getting heated so he doesn’t speak up. Your eyes shoot open in shock and disgust, who the fuck does this guy think he is? You’re finally able to shove him back by his shoulders, shouting a “get off, creep!” before standing abruptly. You decide you’re done playing and signal to Nick that you want to leave.

Nick senses your distress and pulls Chris and Matt with him out of the circle. “We gotta go, sorry,” Nick says quickly, motioning for his brothers to follow you out of the party. The girl from earlier tries making another excuse for you all to stay, but they’re not hearing it. Nick’s best friend senses are tingling, he knows something’s bothering you and when something’s wrong nothing else matters.

They meet you in the front yard near their car. Nick notices that you’re not crying, which is good, but you’re clearly upset. “What happened?” he immediately asks. You give him a dumbfounded look, did he not see you struggling to get that creep off of you?

“That creep, bro. He dared me to kiss him and then wouldn’t let go,” you reply, slurring your words a little. The beers you chugged were beginning to catch up to you. Matt and Chris got in the car, deciding to let you and Nick speak in private. “Dude, I told you we couldn’t play that game here,” Nick scolds, a sassy hand on his hip. Of course he felt bad that you just got harassed by a random guy, but in his defense he did warn you. You glare at him, this was no time for an ‘I told you so’ moment.

You’re about to quip back with a smart remark, but a loud burp erupts from your stomach. It was so loud it even shocked you. The beers from earlier were starting to catch up to you. You felt your stomach twist and turn, a wave of nausea suddenly washing over you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you warn rapidly, holding onto your stomach and covering your mouth. You burp again, the taste of beer lingering in the back of your throat. “So dumb,” Nick mumbles, holding your hair for you as you hunch over. Everything about this situation was stupid to Nick. If you had just listened to him in the first place you wouldn’t be in this mess.

“We need to stop playing this damn game,” Nick comments, turning his head away from you as you vomit dramatically. He can’t believe the night is ending with his best friend throwing up outside of a house party all because of a game of truth or dare.

This game was sure to get you into some serious trouble one day, especially with the rules you two used. Knowing you and Nick, though, you’d probably still keep playing anyways.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

sorry it took so long, I was writing a diff Nick story originally but scrapped it. So I had to start over. Hope u enjoy😋

if you guys have any requests please message me or leave an anonymous message! Don’t be shy! I’ll do my best to write them all 🫶🏻

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗 #nick x y/n #Nicolás sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo x reader #Nicolás sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt x y/n #matthew sturniolo #chris x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo x y/n #matthew sturniolo fanfic

[pendragon-writes]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓃 𝒫𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓂

Ghost with GN!Kid!Reader

Warning: Injury, gore (blood), mentions of death (Not reader).

“Ghost how copy?” “I’m currently taking shelter, enemies, outside. I’ll manage.” “Roger that.” Simon sighed quietly as he reloaded his gun and peaked to the outside. The inside of the house was damaged as hell, with bullet holes everywhere and what seemed to be the house owners laying on the floor together. He heard the shouts of the men nearing his location and managed to get a couple of headshots in before the last one could notice his teammates being out.

As the lone man attempted to enter the house Simon quickly ambushed them resulting in the man lying on the floor, bloody and dead. Just when Simon was about to leave he heard a clatter of noise and turned around. In front of him sat a kid no older than 10, shaking and covered in blood, with one of their legs bleeding. A trail of their blood was left behind as they desperately crawled. "Hey kid it's okay I'm one of the good guys see?" he spoke, moving his hands to the front of his face as if he was calming done a stray cat. "I'm not here to hurt you, I want to help you. If I was here to hurt you we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Once Simon could tell that they wouldn't run, or crawl, he slowly walked over to them and checked them over. He noticed their blood-stained shoes and socks, as well as the very prominent injured leg. "Who did this to you kid?" He questioned, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. He was beyond pissed, who in their right mind would hurt a kid, you clearly had no involvement in this shootout let alone the battle. Shakingly, they pointed him toward one of the enemies that he had previously taken down. This caused Simon to sigh in relief, at least one problem was cleared. But that was just one small issue, he had another problem on his hands that needed urgent care.

His thoughts of what he could use were interrupted when he heard shouts of new people from outside the house. He turned towards the kid and put his finger up to where his lips would be, tapping it twice. They nodded in response. He carefully picked them up and hid them in a closet. "Stay here and don't move, no matter what you hear outside of this closet do not open unless you hear me knock four times, got it?" They nodded their head in confirmation and he sighed quietly. "Good, I'll be back." He carefully shut the closet and went into hiding.

He looked around the corner and counted three soldiers, this was going to be easier than he thought.

°。°。°。°。°。°。

Knock

Knock

Knock

Knock

...

Slowly the closet door opened and there in all his glory stood Ghost with a bit of blood. "Are you okay?" They asked him. "I'm fine, but right now we need to focus on you. Do you know if you keep any first aid kits here?" "Y-yeah... I think we have one in the kitchen." They replied hazily. Their adrenaline was wearing off and the fatigue and pain were finally kicking in, Ghost could tell. "Alright kid, I'm going to grab that kit and then apply some pressure to your leg and it's going to hurt." Ghost didn't wait for a reply as he laid them down and rushed for the medkit. When he returned he applied said pressure with one hand and used the other to check his heart rate and breathing, the pressure caused them to groan in pain, and their breathing was getting a bit slower but nothing to be too concerned about at that very moment.

He grabbed a nearby pillow, while still applying pressure, carefully lifted up the leg, and put it on the pillow. "Alright kid, I've got some... Friends... Who will be picking us up shortly." "In the meantime," he spoke, wrapping the pressure bandage on them. "we'll just have to wait." "In all of this chaos, I never introduced myself..." "The name is Simon, Simon Riley. Though most people call me Ghost-"

"Ghost we're here!" Soap shouted, behind him was one of the military doctors and the rest of the group. Ghost nodded in acknowledgment before turning to the doctor. "Gunshot in the leg, it's probably still in there. I managed to stop the bleeding but they'll need your help."

°。°。°。°。°。°。

"So what's with the kid LT?" Soap asked him. “They got shot by one of Hassan’s men,” Ghost simply replied. "Do they have any family?" "Not that I know of, but what I do for sure is that I'll take them in if they don't."

#ghost mw2 #cod x gn reader #x gn!reader #gn!reader #kid reader #ghost!dad #ghost with a kid reader #simon ghost riley

[alwaysjustmina]

Whispers of Rain

Chapter 6: You get what you give, you reap what you sow

Note: no major warnings for this chapter, but hold onto your pants people. It's getting even more mixed up!

Thank you to @papaslittlesunshine for betaing and @kamonart as always for the beautiful art for this story! And if course @midnight-moth for listening to my depraved thoughts!

When they got back from the party, Ifrit was quick to deposit them back to their locked room without any further conversation, the lock on the door quickly being turned from the outside again.  Dew swiftly sequestered himself in the bathroom, stripping the revealing garment from his body and collapsing in the shower.  He needed to get the smell of Ifrit off of him, the desire so strong he practically ripped the clothes from his body.  As he sat on the floor of the shower, his knees drawn to his chest, letting the scalding water caress him like a lover, finding comfort in Rain’s element, wishing it was him washing his body, promising Dew that Ifrit wouldn’t hurt him anymore. 

Dew wondered if someday he would be unable to cry anymore.  Would he become so numb to the pain?  

Lost in his thoughts, he barely heard the light knock on the door from Eidolon asking if he was alright.  Dew answered with a shrug that Eidolon couldn’t see.  When he got no answer, he opened the door quietly and slipped into Dew’s self made isolation.  When he heard the whimpers from Dew in the shower, he stripped down to his boxers and entered the self made oasis.  

“Dew, can I help?”  He asked timidly.

Dew nodded, unable to help himself at this point.

Eidolon bent down to assist Dew to his feet, helping Dew to drape his arms over his shoulders as he gripped his waist, while grabbing the body wash and washcloth from Dew.

He softly washed his body, careful of his sensitive areas, making sure to ask before he touched him in those spots.  He didn’t want to be another person to violate Dew’s body.  Eidolon turned Dew from him, washing his hair gently, lathering the shampoo, then the conditioner.  As Eidolon’s long fingers carded through Dew’s hair he could feel his slight body sag into him the longer they stood in the shower.  His body, shutting down from the anxiety, stress, torture, sleep grasping at him to escape this place.  Eidolon applied ointment to the too many bites on his skin after he deposited Dew on the bed.   Wrapped only in a fluffy towel, Eidolon tried to get Dew dressed, but his body had given up and just wanted under the covers.  Eidolon helped him, pulling the covers up, tucking him in, brushing his hair from his face.  When he went to move off the bed, Dew grabbed his wrist, his eyes shooting open in panic.

“Stay?”

Eidolon could have sworn he heard a please as well, but was already moving to the otherside of the bed, to join Dew under the covers.  When he settled into the bed, Dew grabbed his hand holding it close to his side.  Eidolon watched as sleep finally overtook him, watching and protecting him from whatever evil he could, even if it was just for a few hours.

***********************************

Dew slept, and in his sleep reliving memories of better times.

After his and Rain’s perfect nights by the seaside marina, they found themselves back in the middle of the tour.  Stealing moments where they could.  The following night after being back, before the next ritual, Dew watched Rain from a darkened corner off to the side of the stage bobbing his head to the first of two opening acts. They had a good hour, maybe an hour and a half before they needed to change and get ready for stage time.  Dew smiled at him as he talked to Swiss and tapped the beat on his jeans, something Swiss said made him smile.  He wondered what he said, he wished he was holding his hand, enjoying their new found normal.

Dew quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, texting him with a small smile gracing his lips.

Otter: I wish I could run my fingers through your hair right now.  It looks even softer in the stage lights.

Rain felt the vibration and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening up the message.  Reading the chat, Dew could see his chest rise in sharp inhalation, looking around trying to find where Dew was, when he couldn’t he texted back.

Selkie: Where are you?  

Otter: Find me?

Rain didn’t notice that Swiss had slipped away to find his own amusement, Rain didn’t care.

Otter: Run your fingers through your hair, let me see how soft it is?

Rain smiled, doing as he was instructed, maybe also dragging his fingers down his throat, as he continued to look for Dew.

Otter: Fuck, baby.

Selkie: If you told me where you are, you could be doing this.

Otter: But, I want to watch you experience the pleasure of how beautiful you are.

Selkie:  Dew…

Otter:  You aren’t even trying to find me. 

Rain disappeared further from the side of the stage into the shadows, trying to seek where Dew was standing.  Stumbling in the dark, tripping over the cords and empty containers.  As he got further in the recesses, he could barely see anything; it was so dark.  Normally the stagehands used flashlights back this far if they had an emergency to locate something, trying to not use lights in this area while acts were in the middle of their sets.  Rain didn’t want to use the flashlight on his phone either, trying to not bring attention to their hopeful trist.

His phone lit up again as a new message was sent through.

Otter:  You're so warm, hot even.  What is taking you so long?

Rain growled, like he was trying to not find him.  He moved a few more steps, still not finding Dew.  

Selkie:  Dew, please, need you.  

Otter: Please?  

Selkie:  I will be happy to beg, if you help me find you.

Dew moved silently from his spot a few feet away, shadowing Rain’s body, as his warm breath played along his neck.

“You’ll beg?  This can be arranged.”  

Read the rest on AO3

#rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #raindrop #fan fiction #ghost band #ghost fan fiction #dewdrop x rain #ifrit ghoul #mina writes #whispers of rain #he did what?

[bg-brainrot]

WHaBFHtLA - Astarion x GN!Reader - Chapter 3: What it Means to Love

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence

WC: 2.9k words, 3/?? chapters

Summary: Now 29, you're still trying to piece together parts of your past. In particular, what exactly was your relationship with Astarion?

A/N: Spoilers for the Pale-Elf quest end, also an fyi that I didn’t want to just retell the quest, so it focuses a lot more on present-tav looking-in.

Ao3 | [Ch2][Ch4] | WHaBFHtLA Masterlist

Despite your best judgments, you’ve begun acting against your parent’s advice. They’ve told you on more than one occasion, learning too much of your previous lives can lead to heartbreak, to suffering. It can affect the course of your current life in ways that you won’t understand until it’s far too late.

You’d listened for a few good years, of course. But every time you enter a trance into one particular past life, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to it. The previous life in question is, of course, the one where you met Astarion, the silver-haired vampire. So you caved and did what you find easiest in this life: cracked open a book.

General information was surprisingly easy to come by, as you were apparently incredibly famous– saved-the-realm famous.

After finding this out, you’ve taken to calling this life the Hero’s life. You had, allegedly, saved the city of Baldur’s Gate almost two and a half centuries ago, alongside the companions that appear in your memories. Even Astarion, with his snark and sass, seemed to be part of the credited heroes.

As for the vampire in question, that man wouldn’t leave your waking or trancing thoughts, no matter how hard you tried. You’re not sure if you find his persistent appearances annoying or endearing at this point. 

You’ve learned a lot about him over the years. Useless facts, like his favorite poetry, his love of embroidery, his preferred wine. One night you spend all four hours of your reverie quietly sitting next to him, tending to your weapons. Every once in a while you’ll think, Surely, there can’t be any more memories with this man? But somehow he will always appear to you again a few nights later.

What bothers you is that so many of them are aimless and mundane, joking, traveling, sitting together. They aren’t helpful, which frustrates you endlessly. The point of your reveries is to help you live your new life, and you’re simply not seeing how these fit in. They certainly feel out of place given the other things you’ve learned of that particular life– the dangers that seemed to lurk behind every corner, the constant feeling of a life on the edge of death. 

You also find that, no matter how many times you meet him, spend time with him, you are never certain: were you in love?

It’s a question you aren’t really equipped to answer. You don't suppose you've ever been in love before, and at 29 years of age, it seems a bit too early in your long-lived life to bother. What you do know is that second memory in the woods, it was not love. 

It all feels so ludicrously fake until a few moments begin to change your mind. Once, he cries your name, charging into combat to save you. Another night, he quietly holds your hand, surrounded by a world shrouded in shadow. A separate encounter, you expect things to escalate to another desperate attempt to get lost in each other, but instead you lay down together, entering your reveries side-by-side. After these moments, the memories feel like they take a turn: all lingering looks, soft touches and, above all else, real, genuine conversations.

After a while, you’d learned of his time as a vampire spawn under a cruel master. You’d learned of his scars, his family, and his hopes and desires. Seeing the man behind the smile felt like a sucker punch to the gut, to both you and your past-self.

For your past-self’s part, you see them open up around him– certainly more than they have in any other memories. As a result, you learn more about them than ever. They tell him their worries: about facing an incredible evil, about not making it out of the whole ordeal alive. They’re a relatively young elf, they still have so much life ahead of them, and apparently this is all being ruined by a worm in their brain.

As if they didn’t have enough to worry about with that looming over them, each of their companions seems to have their own troubles that seemed to need your attention. You only live their life a few hours every week, and you can’t imagine bearing the burdens that they do– it’s clear that you possessed a strength you can only dream of now. They seem willing to make any number of sacrifices for these people and it makes you feel strikingly inadequate, easily overshadowed by their spirit. If I’d lived through their hardships, you think. Would I be this strong?

After a time, your trances surrounding Astarion turn to more concerning subjects– of devils and profane rituals, of the truth behind the machinations of Astarion’s master, Cazador. Gods, you hate Cazador. Everything you’d learned of that man made you want to meet him and give him his comeuppance. You hope at the very least that your past-self ensured he died without mercy, that the man’s wicked life finally caught up to him.

Tonight, you get your wish.

When your eyes open in your former self’s body, the first thing you notice is Astarion. The pale elf is ahead of you, his back turned, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

The second thing you notice is the amount of worry you feel. Your past-self seems frozen in place with it, and you can feel your body barely resisting the call to jump into action. Not sure what you’re witnessing, you wonder if you’ve stumbled into a lover’s quarrel.

Then you hear his voice. “Do not slouch before me, boy! Have you no respect for yourself?”

You’re certain that the instinctual rage you feel at that voice is something that defies lifetimes. Your past-self is brimming with it, their blood pumping in their ears as they watch the scene unfold before them.

Distantly you register him goading Astarion, Astarion responding with a fury matching your own. Despite the anger burning in both of your bodies, through your very soul, you can’t help but look at the man and balk. Wait, is that him? you think. That’s Cazador? He looks pathetic.

He looks like nothing more than a sniveling aristocrat, a dime a dozen in large cities like Neverwinter. You wish you could take control of your memories and tell him as such. Perhaps you’d spoil his outfit and sneer at him or ruin his standing among the rest of the nobility. More permanently, you’d like you just rain sunlight on him and watch him burn. Unfortunately, you’re only along for the journey, so you watch as your past-self and Astarion confront the man.

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts,” the man says, his words harsh, his tone belittling. It reminds you of one of your old Evocation teachers. He’d act mighty, tell you all that he’d done for you, then leave you to the wolves come examinations. That man ended up blown to bits in a miscast spell, and you hope you’re about to see a similar fate befall this vampire.

You’re in the midst of your musings when the pale elf recaptures your attention. Astarion’s response is passionate, holding the unfettered hatred of two centuries of torment, “NO. No. Fuck you. And fuck everything you’ve ever done to me!”

The words snap you out of your own thoughts, forcing you to focus on the scene before you. This isn’t for your enjoyment, and the villain isn't here to give you failing marks. Cazador is far crueler than any man you’ve met in your entire waking existence and this is a life or death situation. You suddenly feel so small in the middle of this, woefully out of your depth.

Your past-self is more than prepared for the situation though. They say that you’ll make the man pay, and their voice is colored with a righteous fury that you can only feel second-hand. Your own anger seems petty in comparison.

“I will not speak to cattle. This is between me and the boy.” Cazador sneers as he dismisses your words.

“You son of a bitch!”

Then Astarion is charging at him, your arm is outstretched as if to stop him, but he’s long gone and your fingers grasp at nothing. Dread fills you as you see Cazador stop him in his tracks, a glowing red magic emanates from his staff.

Cazador spits more venomous words at Astarion, all the while bathed in the red glow of the ancient ritual. You can feel your body straining against every impulse to rush forward and attack the vampire lord where he stands. But they hold back, and you can sense that it comes out of concern for Astarion– an odd reasoning in your mind. Surely Astarion would want you to focus on killing Cazador. 

Before your past-self decides on a course of action, Astarion is being flung, tossed like a ragdoll across the cavernous room that Cazador calls his lair. You watch, helpless, as magic envelopes him, stripping him down to be a mere component for the ritual.

“No! Stop him! Get me out of this!” you hear Astarion shout.

He’s about as far away from you as the ritual circle will allow, trapped by a flick of a madman’s wrist. So you’re surprised to feel a calmness come over you as your past-self assesses the situation. You’re not privy to their thoughts or considerations, but, having seen so much of their past now, you’re reassured that they will get out of this alive and well. Hopefully with Astarion in tow.

Cazador either doesn’t care about your calm confidence or is simply too self-absorbed to notice. He raises his arms in triumph before beginning the profane ritual, “Witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendent! Ecce dominus!”

All hells break loose as the pact magic of Mephistopheles binds each of Cazador’s sacrifices to sigils on the floor. Several creatures of the night come forth, ready to do the vampire lord’s bidding. Werewolves bear their teeth at you, bats fly up onto the platform, and ghouls flank Cazador on either side. It’s a frightening sight to you, and unlike anything else you’ve witnessed in your memories or life. For once, you’re glad you’re not in control, because you’re not certain your legs would be willing to move.

Defying all logic, the first thing your past-self does is run for Astarion. Past each and every one of these creatures, past Cazador himself– they sprint like there’s no one else in the entire world. Perhaps to them there isn’t. Because you feel it now. You feel adrenaline, panic, fear, but, smothering all the rest with its strength, is pure love.

You hadn’t known what it might feel like, but now that it hits you like a wild Bulette, you can recognize it clearly. It had been there in those small moments, an underlying feeling that never quite reached the surface. Looking back, it’s almost as if your past-self had been trying to stifle it, an unruly bud of emotion that couldn’t be trusted in their fight for survival. Here, faced with the possibility of losing Astarion, there was no use in trying to hold back the flood. And there is no possibility of them leaving this place without him.

“Astarion!” they call out once they reach him. He’s bound by those same red bindings that Cazador used earlier, floating above you.

“Help me!” he cries, and the desperation in his voice is piercing. Your eyes look back and forth, inspecting his restraints in seconds, before you simply grab him and pull. 

It’s not the most elegant solution, but it certainly is effective. Astarion falls atop you, and you distantly hear Cazador’s angry shouts. It hardly matters to you now. “Are you alright?” you hear yourself ask him, relief and concern fighting for precedence.

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” he says, lifting himself off the ground. He looks at you, red eyes filled with determination, and your relief wins out. “Let’s go stab that bastard.”

The rest of your reverie is spent in grueling combat. You feel your past-self fight to their limits, fueled by equal parts anger and love. You’ve learned plenty from them in terms of how to fight and what a real fight feels like. But this? This was revenge. It was messy, it was brutal, and it filled you with an odd sense of awe.

After Astarion deals Cazador a near-lethal blow, you think to yourself, thank the gods, it’s over. You reverie didn’t end though, because it was anything but over. Cazador hid into his damnable coffin, Astarion followed, and you watched.

Watched as Astarion tore Cazador out of hiding, threatened him with his own blade, taunted him with his own ritual. Watched as your past-self pleaded with him, tried to assure him that he didn’t need to sacrifice anything to be worthy. Watched as Astarion tried to convince you that this was necessary to be truly free of Cazador.

You could feel your past-self’s emotions, tumultuous as they are, settle on understanding. You don’t understand– how could you, ill-equipped as you are– but you’re glad that they do. They reason with him, try to persuade him to give up on the ritual as only they know how. 

Both of you breathe a sigh of relief as he says, “You… you’re right. I can be better than him. But I'm not above enjoying this.”

Then a torrent of emotions you hadn’t realized were being held back finally burst through the dam. As Astarion stabbed Cazador, delivering blow after blow, you felt sorrow, comfort, joy, sympathy… pain. The pale elf cries, knelt before his former master, your former-self weeps with him.

You wake up in tears. You’d been looking forward to Cazador’s demise, but something about it leaves you feeling hollow. You’re exhausted by how utterly out of your depth you had been. It was every bit of your energy to hold on to the memory and bear it witness, all you could do to try to comprehend the hurt that Astarion felt.

Despite being out of your reverie, a deep pain in your chest remains. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt this before, but you’re nearly certain that this is what heartbreak feels like. It’s almost as if his pain was your pain. Seeing him break down like that was akin to you breaking down, and even now, the tears keep spilling.

You don’t like to admit when you’re wrong, and you’d like to believe that that happens rarely enough that it doesn’t matter. However when it comes to this man, you might need to admit that you didn’t always have enough context to make judgements.

Now that you do, you understand your past-self more than you expect. They were willing to sacrifice anything for him, put their life on the line for him. Something about Astarion makes your heart race, your mind spin, and your very soul weep. What it is about him hardly matters, what matters is that your past-self is trying to push you toward him and for the first time, you think you’d like to listen.

You’d like to begin even more extensive research. This time not about who you were, but about what happened after the events at Baldur’s Gate– More importantly, what became of Astarion after this. You’re too far from Baldur’s Gate to properly investigate or understand what’s mere myth or actual history, however you do know that, as a vampire, he wouldn’t die of natural causes. You’ve yet to dream of his death, so he could very well still be alive.

I should at the very least find out what happened to him, you think. Another, more sensible side of you thinks, Wait. You don’t even know how this life ended. Things could have ended poorly between you, he may even have killed you himself.

Even if you did find him, even if he did love your past-self, you also know that it’s not you who he knows or would care to see. Despite all of that logic, a dangerous, near-taboo thought comes to you, Should I just go find him?

You’re still young though and you understand that this is likely a foolhardy idea– that the exact thing that your parents have warned you against is happening right now. So you decide to consult with them before you make any decisions.

They indulge you a bit, willing to help you with some research, encouraging you to maybe even write a letter if you find the right words. However, they come with a clear warning: no good will come of it if you meet with anyone from a former life. You’re not the same person. It’s been decades, maybe centuries since they’ve last seen you, and they may not be the same person they once were. Don’t ruin your current life by chasing a previous one. Don’t go to Baldur’s Gate.

You nod, figuring that they’re correct. They have centuries of experience, seen countless elves go through what you’re going through. This is only sound, mature advice. That advice carries you for quite a while, staying your hand when you go to practice a divination spell or when you think to seek a teleportation circle to Baldur’s Gate.

However, after decades and decades of dreaming of this man, you find your will wavering, crumbling into dust. One reverie in your 99th year of life finally breaks through the last of your resistance.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion masterlist #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #when he's all but forgotten how to love again #whabfhtla #reincarnation trope #elf!tav #astarion x you

[ozzy-boy]

Poe love languages hcs <3 ough i love him so much....

-Not really a touchy person. He does like physical touch, but not in a typical way.

-Poe's touches are... Almost poetic, like everything about him. They're so purposeful that it brings a certain intensity to even small gestures- like every action is thought out. The tiniest brushes are suddenly heart-pounding.

-Doesn't really go out of his way to hold your hand, but he is the type to touch up your appearance when something is out of place.

-Gently pushing hair out of your eyes or smoothing down flyaways, swiping an eyelash or crumbs off your face with his thumb, tucking the tag of your shirt away if it's sticking out, fixing your make up if you wear any, smoothing wrinkles from your clothing...

-He doesn't make a big deal out of it either. Just quietly reaches over and fixes in the middle of a conversation. His pretty blue eyes leaving yours for only a moment before he hums and urges you to continue talking about your day.

-Can eye contact be a love language? Cause it is for Poe. Y'know the saying about the eyes being the windows to the soul? Well he believes it. Makes so much eye contact.

-If you're laying together, he doesn't go straight for cuddling. No, he ghosts his fingertips down the length of your arm- from your shoulder down to your wrist, then back up again. It's like every time he touches you, he's trying to commit the feeling to memory. Chances are he's writing in his head without even noticing.

-He won't really initiate a lot of contact, but he doesn't dislike it if you do. He's a pretty casual, go with the flow kind of guy, so he'll typically go along with whatever you want.

-Not the biggest fan of PDA, but doesn't mind it. He thinks it's a little funny, actually. Especially if you have an opposite aesthetic as him.

-Loves the idea of people staring in confusion watching a bright, sunny marshmallow like you holding hands with someone like him. If only because he loves to subvert expectations.

-Where Poe shines most is words of affirmation, of course. He's a poet, it's kind of his whole deal.

-You will get endless poems from him. Through text, on scraps of paper, sometimes thoughtfully written with a fountain pen on nice parchment. Sometimes they're fully written poems, while some are just small snippets- a line or two he thought you'd like.

-You're a bit like his editor at this point. His writing is something he keeps close to his heart most of the time, but, well... You are his heart. All Poe's writing gets screened by you before he turns it in to professors or enters it into contests/readings/ect. The highest praise you can get is the fact that he values your opinion.

-His poetry is decidedly more romantic after meeting you... He isn't sure how to feel about that.

-Poe is very aware that he's dour and gloomy, but he always has sweet words for you. He never wants you to doubt just how important you are to him.

-Even if you aren't a writer, Poe will treasure anything you write for him in return. Even if it's the worst poem he's ever read- if you wrote it, he loves it. He'll get it framed.

-Another sure sign that Poe loves you is how much time he spends with you. Quality time is important to him.

-Poe is an introvert, and he doesn't really have many friends. Before you meander into his life, he spends most of his time alone, and he's content with that.

-But now, he spends most of his time with you. He's fairly low energy, so you don't even have to be doing anything. Poe is a big fan of interesting conversations, you can just lay around and talk for hours and he'll be happy.

-If you actually go out for a date, he'll definitely want to lean towards the macabre... Exploring an abandoned building, taking a walk through a cemetery, visiting a haunted house... Although, just going to a cafe sometimes is nice too, even if he's a little disappointed by the lack of skeletons.

-Poe does still need his alone time, but he's good about communicating that with you.

-"I'll be locked in my room for the next 4 hours while I wait for inspiration to strike. Farewell, love, I'll see you on the other side."

-Not very materialistic, so he's not the biggest fan of gift giving.

-He values your time and affection a lot more than how much you're willing to spend on him.

-He appreciates anything you get him, of course, but he almost always follows it up with "You didn't need to get me anything..."

-Poe prefers practical gifts anyway. Things he's likely to actually use, like books or a nice writing pen.

-Although, if you want to get him something he's guaranteed to love, get him jewelry. Rings, necklaces, earrings- even if they're not his 'style', he'll love it. Will wear anything you get him proudly.

-He gives you little trinkets sometimes but they're usually cheap and simple- he doesn't really consider them gifts.

-Swears up and down that he's bad at giving gifts but then he'll turn around and give you something so sickeningly sweet like a hand-bound book of all the poems he's written for you.

-He likes acts of service too- especially doing things for you.

-He wants so badly to paint your nails and do your makeup if you'll let him. Wants to give you a full goth makeover SO BAD.

-If you decide to indulge him, Poe will do everything for you. Scratching an itch while your nails are wet, lacing up long boots for you, fetching something from another room if you're struggling to walk in the platforms he lends you. You'll barely have to move a muscle.

-He likes small tasks like that- little things most people would hardly notice. It makes him feel special, to be the one that gets to wait on you hand and foot. He'd do anything for you, but it's the small details that make butterflies flutter in his stomach.

#blush blush #blush blush poe #bb #blush blush game #poe blush blush #ozzy writing

[anxietycroissant]

So this has stalled but in case anyone else lets stuff slip through the cracks like I do on Ao3, here’s the first chapter of my (so-far) #sydcarmy rambling story that never gets to the point. It’s four chapters so far and I’m hoping this will motivate me to keep it going.

It takes place immediately post season 2 as Carmy gets busted out of the walk-in. It’s a bit feel-good so far but that is unlikely to continue without a few bumps in the road. Enjoy! If you’re lazy I’ve literally pasted the entire first chapter into this post like an absolute champ.

Chapter 1: Mister Freeze

Late night after Friends and Family

The Bear BOH, Chicago, IL

Syd entered the kitchen quietly from the door that led outside, wiping her dry lips with the back of one shaking hand. They had actually pulled off the night, even with Carmy stuck in the walk-in. She pulled her eyes shut as she felt a low swooping sensation in her stomach as the memory of her coming so close to giving up while doing expo flashed in her mind. She never thought she’d be so thankful to Richie. He completely saved her ass. She had wanted to thank him profusely at the end of the night, but he was nowhere to be found as Tony (or was it Terry?), the fridge guy, was breaking Carmy out of the walk-in. Her fingers had begun to haltingly compose a text to Richie to see where the fuck he was, but she figured that she’d save this big conversation for another day. Her gratitude was too big for WhatsApp and that’s just how it was. Plus, what in the actual hell was making her phone so greasy? Olive oil?

Richie unexpectedly saved the day… what the fuck was that? A smile edged up the corners of her mouth until her face ached. It was funny how much she needed to remember that sometimes people can still surprise you in the best ways. She frowned, as a cousin of that thought entered her mind. People can also let you the fuck down.

Carmy was her partner, and she valued his experience and opinion above almost everything. But he really lost himself. It wasn’t so much that he broke his promise to her that he wouldn’t let her drown. It was more that he just totally broke down. She’d never known somebody who could be both so brilliant and yet so unable to cope when things got tough. Everyone had tried to talk him out of his anxiety spiral, but nothing anyone said had done any good in the end. The only person who could help Carmy was Carmy, and that sure as shit didn’t happen.

She had heard bits and pieces of things he had said to Tina from inside the walk-in as she zoomed around the kitchen trying to get things done. She didn’t find out the whole story until later. After the last tickets of the night came through and the stress level of the kitchen started to even out, she realized that until that moment she had forgotten all about Carmy. That’s the thing about working at such a high level: it’s good and bad to focus so completely on something that you totally forget any and everything else.

The moment her thoughts circles back to Carmy, she stopped checking up on everyone and walked back towards the walk-in. The familiar scent of clean, hot dishes and the lingering odor of hot oil hit her as she shuffled tiredly away. She saw the back of Nat's blonde head and could almost physically feel the worry she was directing towards the metal door of the walk-in. Nat must have felt Syd watching her and whispered, “I keep wondering why this is taking so long! Pete keeps circling the block in the car waiting for me. I just want to see if Carmy’s okay, but every time I try to talk to him through the door he won’t say anything. He’s being such a little bitch right now!” She sounded equal parts worried and disgruntled, like always. Syd smiled and cracked a yawn. “You go ahead, Nat. I promise I’ll check up on Carmy and get him home safe. You and Pete head home and rest up. You were amazing tonight, but you look a little bit like…,” her face froze as she saw Natalie’s raised eyebrows. ”Yeah. Um, what I actually meant to say was that I’ve like, got this. Yeah,” she fumbled awkwardly.

Nat just nodded, not even hearing that Syd had basically tiptoed really close to telling her that she looked like hammered shit. “Thanks, Syd. I don’t know what any of us would do without you. Text me if you need anything or if I should come back, OK? And let me know what he says, yeah? And this is a big ask, but… can you see if you can get him to eat something?” Nat rubbed her eyes, causing her mascara to smear ever so slightly. Syd wondered what her own mascara was doing at that moment. “And oh yeah,” Nat spat out with venom, “It would also be great if you could calm him the fuck down and get him to stop getting in his own freaking way all the time.” She did have the decency to grimace in apology after that last bit. Syd cocked her head to the side, already feeling defeated. “Should I be like, taking notes, Nat? Or is that all?” Nat let out a harsh laugh and squeezed Syd’s shoulder, practically racing out the door. ‘Fuck,’ thought Sydney , ‘She’s leaving before I can change my damn mind.’

Syd leaned her back against the wall, and slowly sank to the floor to wait for Carmy to get out. She waited a few minutes longer before the guy whose name probably began with a T finished with the door. Before he opened the door, he said, “Hey, no offense, Syd… but can I get paid before I open this door? Carm has been saying some weird shit and I just want to get the hell out of here.” Syd nodded distractedly, running a hand along her braids. She reminded him just to bill them. She was not going to call Nat back in right now to ask what the new process for paying contractors was. And honestly, she wasn’t dying to know how much money it was going to set them back to have this emergency work done. Mystery Man just shrugged, his gesture seeming to mean that he didn’t trust her promises but that he was too tired to care. “Thanks so much for helping, have a great night!” Syd called out as Terry or Tim or Tony made a beeline for the exit.

‘Well, shit’ , Syd thought. 'He didn’t even open the door all the way.' She hoped she could. As she pushed, the door swung cleanly on its hinges until it was all the way open. She stepped in, the cool air a welcome change from the warm kitchen against her flushed skin. Carmy was just sitting there staring at the floor, seemingly unaware that he was free. With his arms wrapped around himself, he had his head down in between his knees. His blonde curls obscured his eyes, so she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Syd let herself sink down next to him. She cautiously put an arm around him and wrapped her palm around his shoulder. The cold of his shoulder reached up and bit her. He tensed up immediately but relaxed a bit when he realized it was her arm and not someone else’s.

“Syd,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’m so sorry, Chef. I’m so, so sorry.” He either didn’t have the energy or the will to look at her. “I broke my promise to you already.” He seemed so bereft, so adrift, that Syd couldn’t even voice her anger or disappointment at that moment. “Carmy,” she said softly, “Let’s get you out of here and then talk about it.” She kept her arm around his freezing shoulder but got onto her knees so she could leverage her weight to help him stand up. She thought he would put up more of a fight, but he got up willingly enough. She dragged him over to his locker and then helped him into his wool jacket, and had to physically pull his feet out of his Birkenstocks and put them into his sneakers. It was a bit worrying, the way he was accepting her help without question. She got her bag out and changed her own clothes and shoes, and then they walked out to his car. He just stood there, so she told him she was driving him home. He didn’t argue, didn't smoke a cigarette, didn't give her shit. It all kind of worried her.

The atmosphere in the car was tense and quiet as soon as the doors shut. Syd turned on the radio to fill the silence. She was thankful that at least they weren’t listening to any of his fucking depressing music. Syd, under the guise of running a hand through her hair to tuck a loose braid behind her ear, was really sneaking multiple sidelong glances at Carmy as she drove to his place. To his credit, he wasn’t giving anything away. His blue eyes just stared straight ahead, devoid of any emotion. She kept hoping she could think of something to say, but her brain was maxed out. Also, she was pretty sure there was trash or something under the gas pedal, and she needed to focus on not killing them in a fiery car crash. Carmy started mumbling something as they approached his neighborhood, apparently to himself. Syd sighed and eventually found parking underneath a tree by his building.

Even later that night

Carmy’s apartment

The two of them slowly walked up many, many stairs to his apartment. Syd figured that this was the only way left to find a decent apartment in Chicago; find something on the hundredth floor with no elevator. She twisted the key in the lock and opened his door. They both stumbled inside. Carmy waved at her as he slowly slurred, “Thanks, Syd. Go home and get some sleep. You killed it tonight.” She gave him a half smile and nodded. But as she started to turn around and head for the door, something didn’t quite feel right. She whipped her head back around and caught Carmy shivering. He had apparently waited to fall apart until after she left. “Carm, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold? We had the heat on high the whole way here,” Syd huffed, losing what little patience she had left. “We could have saved time going to the ER!” At that thought, Carmy really looked at her. And he looked scared. “Syd, please,” he whispered, “No doctors, okay? I just can’t. I’m so tired and those places freak me the fuck out.”

“All right, Carm, but I can’t leave you alone- and we’ve got to get you warm.” He just looked at her, utterly spent and waiting on her next move. “Shit,” she thought. Maybe he has mild hypothermia? Is that a thing? Can you be just a little bit frozen? She Googled it and it was a thing. She also Googled if spiraling makes hypothermia worse, but the only thing that Google advised against was hot baths. Not super helpful, but good to know? She was torn between calling an ambulance and trying to fix him herself. If she was being honest, she didn’t have the energy to convince Carmy to willingly leave in an ambulance. And she certainly didn’t have the capacity right now to get him down those stairs on her own. She sighed and decided to put the kettle on. His depressing apartment wasn’t helping either.

“OK, Carm, let’s get you into something warmer,” she said dully. He just stood there, so she slipped into his bedroom. Pulling open drawers that barely slid open, she found some sweatpants that somehow looked like normal sweatpants but also like an artisan had handcrafted them in a long-forgotten Italian village. As she ran her hands across the expensive fabric, she wondered where he shopped. And when did he shop? Did he secretly have a massive online shopping addiction, or did he spend every day off buying expensive as fuck sweatpants and obscure white t-shirts? After grabbing the sweatpants, she found a thick, long-sleeved tee. She also grabbed some boxers and thick socks.

As she padded back to Carmen, she saw that he was shivering more than ever. “Arms up, dude,” she said sternly. He put them up without a fight, although they shook slightly. She pulled up his shirt, catching her knuckles on his chest as she did. His skin felt like ice. ‘Shit,’ she thought. New clothes weren’t going to be enough. She slid the new shirt over his head anyway and helped him pull his arms through the sleeves. She tried not to stare at his body while he was in this vulnerable state, but it was an exercise in control. Because all of his muscles were on full display less than a couple of centimeters away from her eyes. If she had had more time, she’d have taken a mental inventory of a few new-to-her tattoos. Her face felt hot all of a sudden and she shook her head to stay on task.

He managed to get his shit together for a second and changed his pants and boxers in his bathroom with the door (halfway?) closed. He was taking too long, so she pushed the door open and pulled him back out. She gave him a long look, sighing. She didn’t like what she saw. A wax version of a person stood in front of her, without substance or colour. Maybe it was just her, but he looked even paler than usual. His skin normally had a golden undertone with a blush of red ready to rise up just underneath the surface of his skin. Not that Syd had perfectly cataloged the colors of his skin in her memory or anything. Because that would be a new level of weirdness. Just then the tea kettle began to whistle. Sydney took some dusty mugs down from his cabinet and some even dustier tea bags, making tea for them both.

She dragged Carmy to sit down on the edge of his bed and handed him the scalding hot cup of tea. He looked at it, then at her, and then back at the tea again. “Syd,” he trailed off. “I’m fucking cold.” Syd looked up at the ceiling. Why did this shit always happen to her? How did she find herself in these situations? She felt like she was in a really random episode of a TV show with endless seasons, like Grey's Anatomy. This scenario had played out at least a time or two on that series, she thought to herself.

She gestured to Carmy to take off his shirt. “It’s either that or we go to the hospital,” she warned, as he looked at her in disbelief. “We have to get you warmed up somehow, and I’m afraid to put you in the shower when you’re this cold. If you fall and pass out, I don’t think I can pick you back up. I know we’re the same height, but fuck, dude, I don’t work out!” He let her come closer and take his shirt off. The collar got stuck on his nose for a second, and Syd heard a high laugh escape from her mouth. “Cool, super cool,” Syd thought. “Real chill.”

She gently pushed Carmy down onto his pillow and then laid down beside him. She pulled the covers over them both and wrapped her arms gently around his body. His eyes were tightly shut, and his shivering shook them both. “Syd… I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this,” he whispered through chattering teeth. “Hey,” Syd whispered excitedly, “you said two whole sentences! That’s more than you’ve said in the last hour!” Her grin faded as she saw the misery etched on Carmy’s face. His body felt tense like he would bolt if he could. Did he really hate this so much, or was he simply ashamed to be so weak in front of her ?

“Hey, Carm, it’s just me. You can relax, let’s just... You know? Get you warm, ok? You’re totally fine. We’re just cuddling, right? Nothing scary is happening. It’s just me.” But then a sudden realization hit her. “Oh fuck,” she thought, cringing inwardly. He has a girlfriend. Who is an ER doctor? Of course he’s tense. “Carm, should I call Claire? I’m sure you’d much rather her do this, right? Especially since she’s a… fuck… I don’t know? Actual doctor who knows what she’s doing? I can’t believe I’m such an idiot! I’m so sorry!” But Carmy just shook his head, pressing it into her shoulder. He was mumbling, but his voice sounded much clearer than it had just a little while ago. “So Claire kind of heard me say some shit while I was locked in the walk-in. Yeah, I thought I was talking to Tina, but I guess Tina left? And I’m paraphrasing but I am pretty sure I told her she wasn’t worth all of this time? Pretty sure we’re broken up. So. Yeah. Please don’t fucking call her, Syd.” Carmy dragged his hands through his hair, which at this point made little to no difference. His hair was already wild after his jaunt in the walk-in.

Syd didn’t know what to say, because she had never known how to feel about Claire in the first place. Claire was fine? Perfect on paper, but not for Carmy. “Syd?” Carmy had apparently asked her a question. “Sorry,” Syd replied, “Are you okay? Uh.. fuck, you’ve had a bad night. I guess you were under a lot of pressure though. If you say you’re sorry and you didn’t mean it, I’m sure she’ll understand.” Syd believed this to be true while wanting it not to be true at the same time. She had that odd feeling of missing a step while walking down the stairs deep in her belly.

Carmy’s nose felt like ice against where it was wedged against her shoulder. “Look, I feel bad about how I said it, but I’m also relieved.” She could feel him smile slightly, the first bit of life she’d seen from him since the walk-in had been cut open. “I always really liked her, you know? And when we started hanging out, it was cool. But she got to see me when I was ok. I don’t think she ever saw that side of me, where I get angry or anxious or throw up or just guzzle Tums. For a while, I thought it was fine. But it’s not. And she reminds me of being a little kid. And like of how I was in high school. And that’s not her fault, I know. But I can’t be with her.” He sighed. “I’m not explaining it well at all, I know. But I’m glad it’s you here and not anyone else. I don’t think I could take it.” Sydney nodded, understanding immediately. “I get it,” she murmured softly.

She looked down and saw that her hand was lightly rubbing his back. His very naked, very muscular back. She felt the heat radiate from her cheeks, down through her arms and legs, and into the sheets. She was very, very thankful that Carmy was still out of it. Too out of it to notice that she was losing her damn mind. As her hands slowly rubbed up and down, she felt Carmy’s muscles relax bit by bit. He even felt a bit warmer now. Still fucking cold, but she didn’t think he needed the hospital anymore. He felt like he’d just come in from playing in the snow. The mental image of Carmy as a boy, coming inside from building a snowman, appeared in her mind’s eye. She had to bite down a smile.

“What?” whispered Carmy softly. “What made you smile just now? Where did you go?” Syd just shook her head. “It’s too embarrassing,” she admitted. “I’m sure it’s definitely more fucking embarrassing than what I’ve experienced tonight,” he deadpanned. She chuckled as he cracked a grin. “I was just thinking that now you don’t feel like ice anymore, and then I thought that now you feel like you’re just cold from playing outside. Like kids do after it snows.” Carmy pulled back to look at her. “Do you think we’d have been friends if we’d known each other back then?” he asked. “I don’t know,” answered Syd truthfully, staring up at the ceiling. “I was a major nerd. And I was also a lot younger than you. Four years was a big difference back then. That’s like ten years in kid years.”

Carmy stared at her. “Four years isn’t much anymore, though,” he breathed. ‘Fuck,’ thought Sydney desperately. ‘Don’t look at me like that with those eyes.” He scrunched up his blue eyes. “What do you mean?” He asked. “Oh, fuck. Did I say that out loud?” She laughed nervously. “Syd,” he stared at her as he shifted a bit closer to her. “What do you mean?” he repeated softly. There was no judgment in his eyes. He just wanted to understand.

“Jesus Christ, Carmy, you have to know that your blue eyes are enough to stop traffic. People in small villages would probably have a parade to celebrate that shit.” She shut her eyes tight and waited him out. She slowly opened one eye. Yep, still staring at her. He was smiling at her sadly. “I don’t think anyone is gonna throw a parade for me any time soon, “he replied. “But they definitely would for you.” She wrinkled up her face as though she had swallowed a mouthful of vinegar.

“Syd, you’re worse at taking a compliment than I am, fuck. You don’t see it, but you’re everything. Everyone loves you, you’re incredibly talented, and you- yeah, you’re just everything,” he sighed. “I don’t deserve you,” he says as he pushed a stray braid out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Syd,” he repeated.

Syd suddenly couldn’t think of anything to say, and her mouth was dry. As Carmy gazed into her eyes, she felt herself on the edge of something, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to go over. Trying to hang onto some semblance of normalcy, she squeezed his shoulder in reply. Carmy, whose arms had until now been resting at his sides, reached up to wrap an arm around her waist. She felt her skin warm at his touch, which was weird, right? The heat wasn't coming from his body; that was for sure. Was she freaking out? Was she breathing weirdly? Could he tell? Oh God. He seemed so calm, and she was losing her mind. Apparently not noticing her awkwardness, Carmy moved closer. She could feel his soft curls touching her cheek. She could feel his chest pressed into hers, soft and reassuring. He even smelled? Cold, somehow?

“Syd? This is really nice,” he whispered, stroking her back. “Carmy, why does your breath smell like spices?” Sydney couldn’t help but giggle. Carmy should smell like cigarettes and soap, and she finds the difference strange. “I was hitting the walk-in door, you know?” Carmy said softly, “And I accidentally knocked over a container of cloves. Luckily it was almost empty, but I got a fucking mouthful. It was intense.” He was staring at her again. She felt the places where his fingers touched her burn with electricity.

“I like cloves,” Syd said stupidly. Her cheeks started burning, and she groaned. “Don’t listen to me,” she murmured. “I’m fucking delirious.” She chanced another look at Carmy. Yep, still staring. “Syd,” he said quietly. “Look at me.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. She caught him looking at her mouth. He quickly looked up and had the decency to apologize with a look. He slowly brought a hand up to her cheek, feeling her soft skin. “Do you- can I-“ his words were cut off as Sydney suddenly sat straight up in his bed, causing his arms to fall away from her. “Carmy,” Syd breathed, “I.. I just can’t. I don’t know how to do this. After everything tonight- and Claire- and you probably had hypothermia just now- it’s a lot.” Carmy squeezed her hand in understanding. “Syd, I get it. I’m sorry. I should not have put you in this position tonight.”

Syd smiled sadly, her dark eyes wide. “But Carmy? I liked this. You know, except for the part where I had to basically carry you up the stairs. And the whole me worrying about you having hypothermia part? So ok now that I’m hearing myself a lot of it actually sucked? But also I got to see at least 17 tattoos I’ve never seen before, and I’m also not saying no, OK? I just think we need some time.” She got up then to stop vomiting out words. Carmy rolled out of bed too, swaying slightly as he stood. He put his arms around her in a tight hug. She leaned her slender body into him for a second, forgetting everything she’d just said. “Text me when you’re home safe?” he asked. His eyes smoldered. Syd was pretty sure she had never smoldered at anyone. “Yeah,” Sydney said unevenly. She somehow turned around and walked to the door without passing out. As she closed the door, she saw him, still staring at her. And “Jesus Christ, fuck me,” she thought. “Those abs. Will I see those abs again?”

As she walked towards the train, she looked at her phone and saw several messages and missed calls from Nat, each one more frantic than the last. She called her immediately, explaining that she had stayed with Carmy until he warmed up. She mentioned making the tea and helping him change his clothes, but she left out the rest. Natalie thanked her profusely before hanging up. Eyebrows raised, Syd threw her hands up as she walked. Being a human was so confusing sometimes.

#ao3 #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #sydcarmy #the bear fx #the bear

[halfmoondaze]

Can I request a Jack Harlow fic angst filled pls.. I’m thinking Jack and reader have a child together but after months of Jack promising he would never put anything above you both Jack is back hanging in the club and just getting really busy with his career. So you end things with him and decide it’s time to co parent so you can move on and find someone to settle down with.

Jack is so upset and every time he comes to pick up your kid he lingers to try and have a chat and find out how your doing but your not saying much at all. You then see on your phone that Jack has been pictured out with a new woman AND your kid and you lose it because Jack never even told you about this woman. So next time Jack comes round to visit your in full glam getting ready for a double date with your best friend. But maybe the reader rings Jack at like 2am because the blind date has gone wrong and Jack comes to help? Idk maybe a silly idea lol thanks if you do write it

author's note: thanks for requesting. i hope you dont mind me making a few changes to it. but I hope you like it

"Fuck" Jack sighed when he saw the 7 missed texts and 3 missed calls on his phone from Y/N.

He said he'll be here this time. One of the many empty promises he did, and Y/N wasn't sure why she still expect him to change.

It seemed like Y/N and Jack had this conversation over and over again. At first, it was always these explosive arguments where Y/N would grow frustrated at Jack. And he knew better than to say something, so he would just bite his tongue to avoid saying something he'll regret afterward. But he knew she was right.

As he entered their shared apartment, he glanced at the clock on the wall. 4 am. As he walked through the house he found a note on the kitchen counter. dinner is in the microwave.

He sighed in frustration as he ran his hands through his curls. He wished Y/N would give him a sign that she still wanted to fight for their relationship, but I guess he couldn't blame her because is not like he's been keeping his promises for a while now.

He quietly walked to their shared bedroom and crept inside to find y/n opening her eyes as soon as she felt his presence.

He walked to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry I woke you" he whispered.

"It's ok, I was waiting for you"

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time"

Y/N just sighed as she sat on the bed.

"Look, I don't want to fight. I don't think I even have the energy to do so anymore. But I think we should take a break"

"What?" he said taken back by what she was saying.

"Jack, we're clearly not on the same page here. I've been waiting for the past six months for you to change. For things to get better and for you to be more present. And to be honest, I feel like I'm running in circles in here"

"Y/N-"

"Wait, please let me finish" she said calmly. "I love you, I really do, and I always will. But we continue like this I'm afraid I would grow to hate you and I don't want to do that"

She choked on her words as tears started falling from her eyes.

Jack took her hand and gently stroked it.

"I would always love you. You gave me a beautiful daughter which is the most perfect thing I've ever done. But I can't carry on like this, I really can't"

"Y/N, it doesn’t have to be this way. I can change, I promise things would get better, I just need to-"

"Jack, I got tired of fighting and you got tired of trying. It's just not working anymore. We have to face reality. It's too late" she said stroking his cheek.

It was over.

The following months were hard, but you and Jack were finally at a point in your relationship where the two of you were civil with each other, which made co-parenting very easy and smooth. He would come to pick up Aitana on the weekends, with exceptions when he was on tour obviously, while she would stay with you during weekdays.

You answer the doorbell to find Jack standing at the other side of the door.

"Hey Jack, Aitana should be down any minute"

"Yeah" he said. "So, how you've been?"

You were taken back by his sudden interest in your life.

"I've been good, thanks for asking"

"So is there a lucky guy-"

"Daddy!"

Y/N sighed in relief.

Aitana came running to Jack's arms.

"Hey bubs, ready for a long weekend just the two of us?"

"Yeah" she squealed in excitement.

"Ok, say goodbye to your mom"

"Bye mommy" Aitana said leaning into Y/N and kissing her on the cheek.

"Goodbye sweetie, have fun"

"Y/N"

"Jack"

Then she closed the door behind her.

That night, Y/N invited her best friend, Rowan, to stay over. They ordered Thai food and watched re-runs of Sex & the City while catching up.

"Wait, so you got tickets to see Hamilton?"

"Yeah, Norman surprised me with them over dinner last night"

"That's nice, where did he take you?"

"Redbird. By the way, I'm glad you and Jack are on good terms. I saw him with a woman and Aitana, sitting a few tables away from me. I didn't know you were all on such good terms, I could never-"

"What? What woman?"

"A red-haired girl, she seemed close to Aitana. Wait, I thought you knew…"

Y/N was beyond pissed. They had finally reached a point where Aitana was just getting used to her parents being divorced, and he was already introducing their daughter to some woman. Without consulting her first…

Friday night came faster than you expected. You were currently putting on your earrings when you heard the doorbell.

"Coming" you said while walking to the door.

You opened the door to find Jack standing by the other side of the door, stunned by seeing Y/N all dolled up.

"Aitana would be down in a few seconds"

"You look great, any special occasion?"

"Oh, I'm going on a double date"

"A date? with who?"

Y/N arched her brow not expecting him to be so interested in your dating life.

"His name is Craig, we've been on a few dates. Why the sudden interest?"

"Because I would like to know the person you're dating before I let you introduce him to my daughter?"

"Your daughter?" you asked in disbelief crossing your arms.

"Y/N, you know what I mean"

"No, I don't. In fact, I don't think you are one to make that decision considering you being going around with your girlfriend and our daughter without consulting me first"

"What are you talking about?"

"Rowan saw you on Redbird, with a redhaired woman and Aitana"

Jack looked at Y/N like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Y/N, I can explain-"

"I don't wanna hear it Jack, I'-"

At that moment, you got a text from Craig.

"I have to go, they are already here. The door key is below the plant pot. Make sure to close when you leave"

Before he could say something, she was gone.

It was 2 am when Jack's phone went off.

He glanced at the screen to see it was Y/N.

"Y/N is everything ok"

Y/N immediately started silently crying when she heard the concern in his voice.

"Jack, um… I'm sorry I know I shouldn't be calling this late"

"No, no, no, it's ok. What happened?"

"It's Craig. After Rowan left with her date, this random guy that was passing by made a flirty comment about me and he got pissed at me for not saying anything and humiliated me in front of the whole restaurant"

Jack was fuming at what he just heard but remained composed to avoid unsettling her.

"Where are you?"

"I'm outside the restaurant"

"I'll come and get you"

"What about Aitana?"

“She’s asleep. I’ll just bring her along in the car”

She could hear the keys through the phone.

“Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in a few”

After that, Y/N hung up.

When Jack pulled into the restaurant, he saw Y/N standing alone outside like a lost puppy.

“Hey” he said in a tender tone of voice as soon as she climbed to the passenger seat.

The shift of energy and Jack’s act of kindness triggered her because at that moment she broke into tears.

Jack wasted no time and pulled her into his embrace and let her cry on his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she calmed down and Jack proceeded to drive back to his apartment.

“Jack, I thought you were taking me home”

“I didn’t want you to be by yourself, just because we are not together anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care about you” he said before opening the door and taking Aitana into his arms.

When you got inside, Jack put Aitana to bed, while you stood by the doorway.

“I’ll get you some clothes for you to change, you can sleep in my room”

“No, that won’t be necessary, I can sleep on the couch”

“No, of course not. I can’t have you sleeping on the couch. Just take my bed. Is ok, really” he said kissing the top of her head before heading to his room to get some clothes for Y/N.

The following morning Y/N got up early after taking a shower. She walked through the living room, only to find Jack making breakfast.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“Leaving so soon?” he asked softly with a hint of hurt in his voice.

“I don’t want to confuse Aitana, and get her hopes up”

“Then it shouldn’t be that way. We can give it another try”

“Jack, you’re dating someone”

“I’m not. Well, not anymore. You were right, I should’ve never introduced her to Aitana without your knowledge, that was fucked up. When she started pressuring me about putting her needs above Aitana’s, I knew I needed to put an end to it. Besides, I only did that because I was trying to get over you” he sighed. “I know I fucked everything up when I let you leave. You just wanted me to be more present and I couldn’t even do that. And I know you have given me countless chances to prove myself and even though I don’t deserve any of them, would you consider giving us another chance?”

Y/N couldn’t even lie to herself. She wanted this as much as he did.

“Ok” she softly said.

“Serious?”

Y/N nodded in response smiling from ear to ear.

Jack close the gap between them and cupped her face with his hands and pulled her into a kiss.

And just like that, they were together again. The way it was always meant to be.

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