#i don’t think I’m going to pick this up again

[solarmorrigan]

Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

-

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #cw child abuse #referenced but does not take place in the fic #cw panic attack #even if it doesn't look like one at first #soft ending though as always I promise

[flickering-chandelier]

I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing

Work Count: 5.2k

You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”

Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.

You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.

“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 

“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”

Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 

Azriel arched a brow in question. 

“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”

Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”

He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”

You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 

Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 

“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 

He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 

You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.

---

A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.

Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”

“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”

The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”

That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”

You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”

He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.

“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 

He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 

Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.

Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.

---

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 

It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 

“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 

His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.

Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 

Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.

Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 

Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”

Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”

“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”

Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”

Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”

“Maybe you should.”

Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 

---

It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.

Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 

It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.

You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 

Cauldron, you were doomed. 

“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Nowhere,” you lied.

She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 

“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 

“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”

Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”

You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.

You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”

Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”

“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”

Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”

You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”

“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”

---

Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.

“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 

It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 

You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 

---

“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.

He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”

You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.

Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”

“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.

What the hell. 

Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?

He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?

It was your relationships, well your lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 

And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?

His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?

It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 

Did he feel the same way?

He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 

Maybe he should be with you. 

He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.

Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.

You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.

“Az?” You asked.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 

You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

You had a long night ahead of you.

---

It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.

It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.

He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.

“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.

“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.

“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.

“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.

“Settled?” Rhys offered.

Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”

“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.

“I do. Of course I love her.”

“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”

“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.

He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

---

Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 

Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.

You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 

“You do not,” you smiled.

“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 

You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 

He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 

Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.

Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.

You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 

Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.

“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.

“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”

Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.

“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 

“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 

You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 

Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 

Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 

All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.

You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 

Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.

---

Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 

Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 

He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 

He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.

“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 

He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 

Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”

“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 

You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”

You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”

“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 

A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.

Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”

“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 

“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”

“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 

Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 

“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”

He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.

Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 

One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.

“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.

Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.

He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”

“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 

“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.

“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 

After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”

Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”

“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 

“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 

His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 

He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.

Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 

---

You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 

You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 

How could you ever be sure?

After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 

Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…

You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 

What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.

Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 

Whatever this ended up being.

Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 

“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.

Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. 

“Hi,” you replied timidly.

His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 

He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 

You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”

His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 

It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 

On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 

You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 

Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 

You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 

I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 

Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 

---

Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 

He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 

He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 

He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 

You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 

“Hi,” you said, quietly. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 

You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.

“I read it,” you whispered. 

He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”

Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”

“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”

Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 

You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”

“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 

“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.

Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 

---

After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”

Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”

You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.

“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 

After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”

You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”

Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel angst #acotar angst #acotar fluff #acotar imagine #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #request

[jjunae]

NYC ⸺ sjy

❔ spiderman pays you a visit 〡 spiderman!jake x fmr warnings! lil implications of skinship, swearing ( LIBRARY )

‘are you upset?’

‘no, of course not. do i look upset?’ you asked, teeth grit, while you aggressively flipped through the pages of your book, hardly bothered to spare a glance towards his direction.

‘i don't know. pretty, can you look at me?’ jake pleaded, and you closed the textbook shut, eyes flitting towards the window. he was always there, in his red and blue, web-themed suit. you’d, eventually, grown a habit of leaving it open, just for him. 

‘don’t call me that.’

‘i knew you were mad. i promise, i'm not hurt,’ he said, his hand reaching to pull the mask off his face. you instantly jumped off your bed, scrambling over to him, to drag him inside your room. you slammed the shutters down, before turning to face him. 

‘are you fucking stupid? i’ve told you a million times! don’t pull it off, even if you’re just out my window,’ you snapped. it was evident you were irritable.  

‘sorry,’ he muttered, while he flung the cloth away. 

‘don’t throw your shit around my room,’ you grumbled, while he bent over to pick up the mask off your floor, quietly mouthing a “sorry”, yet again. 

you looked him up and down, your eyes scanning every inch of his body. he had a bloodied lip, and a couple of scrapes and cuts. not too much, you thought, while pulling out the first-aid box you’d kept for him. 

‘sit,’ you instructed, and so he did. he knew exactly where to sit; he’d been in this room at least a million times, for this very reason.  

‘i’m sorry,’ he started, causing you to furrow your brows. 

‘i really am. i didn’t mean to stand you up, something was happening down at oscorp, and you know jay works there, so i-’

‘wait. you think i’m upset because you stood me up?’ you cut him off, with a tilt of your head. 

‘yeah? i know you’d got us reservations, and i’m so sorry. i know it meant a lot to you, so i’ll make it up to you,’ he swore, a hint of confusion seeping into his eyes. 

‘jake, i’m not upset about that. i know you have a duty to fulfill,’ you murmured, hand reaching to push back the sweaty strands of hair falling over his forehead, ‘it’s just, i’m always so worried. i know i’m being silly, but i’m scared for you. i don’t know what’s happening to you, or what you’re doing. is it so hard to tell me where you are?’ you asked, your voice slightly quivering. 

‘no, i don’t like calling you. what if someone traces your number through my call records? i don’t want your safety to be compromised, but i guess that doesn't make sense, yeah? i mean, you’re always exposed to danger, because you’re close to me,’ he finished, with an awkward chuckle. 

‘i chose to be with you, even though i knew about you being spiderman. it was my choice, so quit acting like a hero; like you’re responsible for me, all the damn time. i’m my own human,’ you spat, grabbing him by his cheeks, looking into his eyes.

a part of you knew, he could’ve stopped your hand if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he was trying to understand you, though it was hard for him. god, if only he knew how much you loved him. 

‘okay,’ he said, slowly. 

‘okay,’ you nodded, letting go of him, and you both maintained a comfortable silence, while you patched up his cuts. 

‘what about my kiss?’ he complained, after a pause. it was (another) habit you had, kissing him after you were done helping him out.  

‘you’ll get it. be patient, spider-boy.’  

and, patient he was. sim jaeyun returned home as a happy man, with pink-colored smudges imprinted on his cheeks.

#( ᐢ..ᐢ ) . . . 𝓌orks #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake x reader #jake sim #jake sim imagines #jake sim drabbles #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen headcanons #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake oneshot #jake sim fluff

[mediumgayitalian]

prev

———

She brushes another kiss to his hidden face and settles against the car door, holding him. She thinks for a moment and decides on something old, a tune she heard on the radio once upon a time and never heard again; she’s warped it, now, no doubt about it, humming it from memory so long it’s changed to whatever she has made it. But Will recognises it from years of lullabies, picking up on the swooping baritones and mumbling the words into her shoulder.

“You know, that Han Solo shrine up in your room makes a lot more sense, now that I think about it.”

The melody dies in his throat.

“Mama.”

“I’m just saying.” She bites back a smirk, swatting away his smacking hands. “There was a point in time I thought it was admiration, you know, but you have a lot of posters of that open vest —”

“Mama!”

She acquiesces, this time, never having seen his poor face so scarlet, trying and failing to keep her laughter to herself. The tear tracks have long since dried and his breathing is steady, now, gangly limbs tucked into her ribs and hanging off the bend of her thigh. Flopped all over her like he used to to when he was young and she was still touring, when the world was too loud and too bright and too mean and she hid him from the sun. Her hands in his hair are to touch instead of soothe.

“Who’s the boy?”

“No.”

“C’mon, babydoll.” She pokes at his ribs, grinning widely when he rolls his eyes to hide his smile. “Tell me.”

“It’s nobody, Ma, gods.”

“Yeah, right. Not like you were comparing having a crush to killing someone in cold blood twenty minutes ago. Clearly it’s somebody.”

He, very pointedly, doesn’t answer.

Unfortunately, he forgets that he gets his stubborn from her.

“Hm. Can’t be anyone I haven’t heard of in a few weeks, or else it wouldn’t be bothering you. What names have you mentioned?”

He looks at her in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

Absolutely, she would. Her smile widens.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it ain’t Chiron, ‘cause then I’d have questions —”

“Oh my gods! Stop!”

“— an’ I doubt it’s that security fellow, with the eyes, although if it is no judgement —”

“I’m throwing myself out of this car! Right now! I’m gonna lay on the road ‘til someone hits me!”

“— Lord, you don’t mention many names. You’re a recluse, baby. You gotta make more than two friends.”

She stills. Will, perhaps guessing where she is going, makes a noise of deep, personal agony.

“Oh my stars, is it Cecil?”

“Ew, Ma!”

He strains against her hold but she tightens, hooking her elbow around his shoulders and flexing her other hand, pretending to examine her nails.

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, he is a very handsome young man. And he has a good heart, too, despite the — how to put it — distaste for the law —”

“I just threw up in my mouth! Right now! Stop it!”

“I should probably stop letting him stay in your room when he stays over, huh, that one’s on me —”

He wrenches himself away from her, finally, clambering over the seats and gagging like the mere idea makes him nauseous.

“Ew! Ew! I do not have a thing for Cecil, oh my gods, I might as well marry my cousin! Augh! I’m gonna throw up for real! Why would you even say that, oh my —”

“Alright, alright!” she laughs, kicking his rapidly repeating shoulder. “Holy Jesus, you are dramatic. I should call up camp and tell him you’re out here retchin’ at the mere thought.”

“Good,” Will says darkly, voice muffled from how deeply his head is buried in his hands, “make sure to also tell him he is a weasel.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am going to deface his vintage Hot Wheels collection.”

“Y’all have a strange friendship.”

“He’s not my friend, I am stuck with him via circumstance and because he refuses to leave me alone.”

She holds up her hands in surrender, refraining from pointing out the friendship bracelet he is currently wearing with a CM on it and that has not left his wrist in four years.

“Alright, alright. Not Cecil.”

He scoffs in agreement, ignoring her rolled eyes.

She wracks her brain for other boys he’s brought up in their phone calls, aside from people in passing. Mostly he mentions patients, really, answering her endless inquiries — it will never stop astounding her that he baby can practically sew heads back on bodies; she tells people he’s in med school and preens at their wide, impressed eyes — but there are other people he mentions, in between that and the pranks he’s frequently pulling with his friends.

“There was that boy you were so excited to keep around. Nick?”

“His name is Nico,” he corrects, and then immediately goes scarlet. “I — I mean, I have a friend, named Nico, not that —”

Her grin gets sharp as nails.

“He is — unwell! He’s travelled a lot, he needs monitoring so I am — monitoring him, you know, out of concern for his safety —”

“Nico and Wi-ill, sitting in a tree —”

“Oh my gods are you five —”

“You are steaming! I can actually feel the heat pouring off of you right now! You love him, you want to kiss him, you —”

“I am never telling you anything again in my entire life!” he hollers. “Never! Next time I think I should tell you something I’m just gonna — swallow glass!”

She snickers. “Drama queen.”

He sticks out his tongue as she situates herself back in her own seat, turning the keys in the engine. His puts his dirty converse on the dash despite her grouching, reaching over to fight her for control of the radio, flapping his hand excitedly when she lets him win and something bright and overdone starts playing. His bandage stays where it is, tied loosely around his wrist.

“I’m glad you told me, you know.”

He smiles, small and genuine, leaning into the palm she cups around his cheek. The dimple in the centre of his right cheek is back, the scrunch of his freckled nose. She presses a lingering kiss smack dab in the centre of his forehead and he leans into it, trusting.

“I know.”

#okay THATS it #do i like this as much as the first part? no it’s less impactful. but it is fun so idc #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #will solace #naomi solace #will solace & naomi solace #solangelo #fluff #my writing #fic #longpost

[panxramic]

People bringing up Chayanne is a glass child like yeah this has been a huge thing and was one of the culminating points of the fight that happened with Chayanne and Tallulah last year. I love this family sm and I love the way q!Phil is portrayed as a flawed parent

I don’t think a lot of people realize that q!Phil is absolutely incapable of reading emotions specifically Chayanne’s. Especially when Chayanne hides them to act tougher and fine. It’s a double edge sword and it’s nothing that can be fixed if it’s not said to his face.

ex: when Chayanne said that he hated fighting q!Phil he IMMEDIATELY broke into “I’m so sorry” and apologized over and over again you can tell he felt HORRIBLE. He cracked the moment Chayanne started opening up about what he really felt.

q!Phil sucks ass at noticing when his kid feels a certain way and it’s something he KNOWS. It’s why they said they would open up to each other more because q!Phil just /cant/ read his kids minds. And Chayanne is trying his best to slowly let out his emotions and that’s GOOD.

It’s FINE. He doesn’t need to bleed right then and there. It will take time for him to process what happened and it will take time for him to open up and q!Phil will be there ready when he can.

And I know it fucking sucks to see it happen but I for one think it needs to happen.

q!Phil and Chayanne’s relationship is very unique and specific. They believe in each others abilities and trust each other to take care of themselves. Chayanne has always seen his dad as untouchable so imagine how he feels knowing that he’s not invincible?

Chayanne is a mirror image of q!Phil both in all the good and the bad. Things aren’t black and white as most people make it out to be and no q!Phil is not a horrible parent, he’s not a bad guy and no Chayanne does not think less of his father.

Having q!Phil in Chayanne’s life has been so important to his development and it’s been good. He just needs the balance that q!Missa brings. Because in all the flaws that q!Missa has q!Phil is there to pick him up and vice versa.

The death family is the most flawed, troubled, loved, imperfectly perfect family and it’s why I love them so deeply. Because through all the pain and flaws they prefer to go through it together. They love one another and support each other unconditionally.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #qsmp chayanne #death family #marv rants

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#alternative title: everything everywhere flour at once #scoups #scoups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #waldau writes #req

[sunnitheapollokid]

🎙️🌸┊ ༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄, 𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 ‘𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑!

↳ hoo boys x popstar princess headcanons <3

characters in this thread : percy jackson, leo valdez, jason grace, frank zhang. ೃ࿔₊•

☀️ sunni’s notes : THIS IDEA HAS BEEN ENGRAVED IN MY MIND FOR FOREVA! and i finally get to write about it because my writer’s block is slowly goin’ away 🫶 (barely) i haven’t checked my notifs because i’m tryna do a semi-break right now!! but i wanted to post something for y’all >0< ANYWAYYY obvi it’s sabrina inspired because i love her i’m a true carpenter amen amen. GO STREAM ESPRESSO. happy reading bebis!! sunkisses, — sunni!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ your biggest supporter!!!

୨୧ has all your merch. the cap? yeah, he’s got it. the shirt. got it. the stickers? jacket? don’t even need to ask him, he’s got it.

୨୧ obviously adores your singing voice, he makes you sing every chance he gets.

୨୧ percy knows how to play the guitar, both electric and acoustic so he usually makes appearances during your shows.

୨୧ YOUR FANBASE LOVES HIM?? like sometimes it seems like they love him more than you do.

୨୧ so many edits, like CRAZY amount of ship edits.

୨୧ he likes to take a peek on what your outfits look like, but you tell him it has to be a surprise!!

୨୧ if you succeed in hiding your fits, his jaw is dropped at the first sight of you on stage.

୨୧ knows all of your songs, plays them in the car, even when you tell him not to.

୨୧ “WHAT’S THIS?? ESPRESSO?? BY WHAT?? WHO’S THIS SINGER?”

୨୧ “oh shut it.”

୨୧ his favorite color’s blue, so sometimes you wear blue accessories on stage.

୨୧ almost signifying that you’re bringing a part of him on stage.

୨୧ you wear blue bows, bracelets, maybe a few rings.

୨୧ percy absolutely melts when you do, because he knows exactly that you’re thinking of him.

୨୧ you even have a seperate blue mic just for him.

୨୧ during tours, he gets busy with college so he can’t really come to every show, but he tries to watch it live even during lessons.

୨୧ “mr. jackson, if you don’t tuck your phone away i’ll make it a point to fail you.”

୨୧ “just mad you don’t have a popstar as a girlfriend.”

୨୧ “what was that?” — “nothing!”

୨୧ and he picks you up from the airport whenever you come back, every. single. time.

୨୧ co-wrote some songs with you, but likes to have you take the credit since you’re the singer anyway.

୨୧ songs include : “miss america & the heartbreak prince.” — “snooze.” — “somebody to you.” — “the only exception.” — “style.”

𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐳 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ calls you ‘princesa’ and ‘mi párajo cantor’ A LOTTT.

୨୧ and it still makes you flush everytime.

୨୧ leo valdez is the type to how do you say this??

୨୧ totally forget that you’re the ‘princess popstar’ sometimes.

୨୧ there was one time you two were on a date,

୨୧ leo watching you eat then he just goes,

୨୧ “.. YOU’RE A POPSTAR!!”

୨୧ and he shakes your shoulders like the world’s gonna end.

୨୧ “leo! leo! amor! quiet down!”

୨୧ always making sure he goes to ALL YOUR SHOWS.

୨୧ if your guitar / or any instrument ever breaks, he’s already there fixing it for you before you could tell him.

୨୧ likes to plan out your outfits, and almost all the time, THEY EAAAT!!

୨୧ “miss popstar princess!! who styled you today??”

୨୧ “oh! my boyfriend!”

୨୧ too, loves your singing voice. or your voice in general, he’s so whipped when he hears you say his name.

୨୧ WHEN HIS NAME IS IN YOUR SONGS??

୨୧ he’s gonna marry you.

୨୧ he has a t-shirt and in black bold letters it just says, “I LOVE MY POPSTAR GF.”

୨୧ the crowd loves seeing leo in the crowd hanging with your fans.

୨୧ he’s not much of a singer, but he’ll dance his heart out amongst your fans.

୨୧ flying kisses, so many flying kisses.

୨୧ he also likes doing your hair, and again, THEY EAAAT!!

୨୧ makes you think of how much of an amazing girl dad he would be.

୨୧ “guys do you see how cute my hair is?! leo did it!!”

୨୧ you give them a lil twirl, and the crowd goes wild.

୨୧ immedietly peppers you with kisses after a show backstage.

୨୧ he makes all your jewelry for you, since he’s good with metal anyhoo.

୨୧ you have a polaroid of you and him stuck to the back of your guitar.

୨୧ he has a polaroid of you on stage on his drum set.

୨୧ oh yeah, did i mention he’s drummer?

୨୧ some songs of yours don’t usually have drums in them, but when they do, you know who to call!!

୨୧ this man is defo sleep deprived.

୨୧ “mami? can you sing me to sleep?”

୨୧ he falls asleep to your voice in a snap, his arms wrapped around your waist like a glove.

୨୧ songs include : “that boy is mine.” — “this love.” — “espresso.” — “ready or not.” — “lover.” — “our song.”

𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ jason loves the idea of you being a popstar!! but makes sure to let you know that even if you weren’t, he’d love you regardless.

୨୧ the man doesn’t dance, but he can sing pretty well.

୨୧ you’ll catch a glimpse of him humming and swaying to your songs in the crowd.

୨୧ OMG OMG. jason loves matching with you!!

୨୧ it’s sort of his way of saying ‘i love you and i’m here to support you all the way.’

୨୧ JSVAHGSBA

୨୧ sorry brain buffered there.

୨୧ his favorite outfits of you two were these blue and light purple coordinated oufits.

୨୧ the fans loved it. it was all over.

୨୧ you guys went trending a ton.

୨୧ #(name)andjason or your guys’ ship name on twitter went viral almost more than twenty times in the span of like— three months.

୨୧ jason doesn’t really care about the fame though.

୨୧ he still likes to go on those corny and normal fun dates with his girl.

୨୧ if the paparazzi comes to harass you, he genuinely but gently threatens them to leave you alone.

୨୧ can i just say,

୨୧ A GOD AT PHOTOGRAPHY.

୨୧ he knows all the good angles and poses.

୨୧ he’s your literal pocket camera.

୨୧ why hire a professional photographer when you had a boyfriend who can do it for you???

୨୧ “on your right baby— yeah, then turn there, that looks good.”

୨୧ “here jace? is my hair flat in the back?”

୨୧ “it’s never flat, you look great honey.”

୨୧ i just brain buffered again.

୨୧ OH OH!! jason plays the bass!! i think it would fit!

୨୧ he doesn’t like going on stage though, he’s super shy. and he has a hint of stage-fright on him.

୨୧ he’ll play some songs for you in private though! and you could hear some bass from him in a few of your songs.

୨୧ songs include : “daylight.” — “soulmate.” — “invisible string.” — “slut!” — “beautiful boy.” — “tattoed heart.”

𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐳𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 ♪ ˖ *

୨୧ HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEARTTT.

୨୧ he’s your breath of fresh air when the fame gets too overwhelming.

୨୧ “hard day sweetie?”

୨୧ he gives you the best hugs when you come back from a shooting, a show, whichever.

୨୧ makes sure to stocks up all your snacks backstage for you.

୨୧ he got you a locket for your anniversary, and you wear it on stage.

୨୧ he smiles to himself everytime he catches a glimpse of it around your neck.

୨୧ what’s inside the locket you may ask??

୨୧ literally just him.

୨୧ and amen to that!

୨୧ just like jason, he likes to reassure you that even without the popstar thing— he loves you. body and soul.

୨୧ spoils you!! 100%!!

୨୧ he knows exactly what you want, your eye is caught by something while shopping, he’s hopping his ass inside that store to get it for you.

୨୧ makes the calls for you when you really can’t take it to go do popstar duties.

୨୧ and he makes sure your day off is the best ever, with snuggles and cocoa kisses.

୨୧ but during shows, he’s actually super chill!!

୨୧ except the part where he sings his heart out to every song, because he defo knows ALL YOUR SONGS.

୨୧ the fans are shocked sometimes, but they love him.

୨୧ he’s so friendly to your fans too!! during meet and greets he makes appearances, and he gives them the biggest hug ever.

୨୧ he also thanks them for supporting you, and it makes your heart melt.

୨୧ when you’re on stage, he makes the half of those finger hearts for you to complete— and of course you complete it!!

୨୧ songs include : “pov.” — “you are in love.” — “urs.” — “bewitched.” — “every summertime.” — “like the movies.”

#— sunni hyperfixates on demi-gods ( ੭ ･ᴗ･ )੭ #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #pjoverse #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #frank zhang x reader #percy jackson headcanons #leo valdez headcanons #jason grace headcanons #frank zhang headcanons

[hopesworlld]

sam monroe catches you masterbating !

( mean!sam, use of vibrator, fingering, degradation, spanking, mentioned sex )

a small whine fell from your lips as you buried your fingers deeper into your sopping hole, gasping as you curled your fingers, prodding at that spongey spot inside of you that made your toes curl. you twisted slightly, spreading your legs wider as you forced your fingers down to the hilt, chasing that phantom release that curled at your spine.

“fuck,” you hissed, head falling back against your pillow, grinding your hips against your fingers, trying to replicate the feeling of someone else buried there, fingers or cock you didn’t care. you missed feeling full, achingly so as they drove deep inside of you and left you a babbling mess. you rolled on your side, throwing open your bedside drawer and pulling out your little bullet vibrator. you turned it on, speeding it up and pressing it against your clit. a screech falling from your lips as you jerked helplessly, body sent into overdrive by the vibrations and you came quickly, cum coating your fingers and squelching sickly.

you rolled over, heavy breaths falling from your lips as you switched the toy off and dropping it down when you heard clapping coming from the door way. your head whipped round, eyes meeting sam monroe’s, your brother best friend, and the boy who had fucked you so good over a month ago that nothing else had compared since.

“good show, babe, came a little to quickly if you ask me though,” he snickered, dark hair falling over his forehead in waves, eyes lined with thick black liner that made his blue eyes almost luminous.

“what the fuck, sam?” you hissed, grabbing your blankets and yanking them up to cover yourself.

“don’t you fucking dare,” sam snapped, crossing the room in seconds and grabbing the blanket from you, “sluts don’t need to cover up,” he said, tossing the blanket to the ground and grasping your thighs, spreading them open so that he could see the mess of slick that coated your inner thighs and welled from your pussy, weeping helplessly as he leaned down. you could feel his breath against you, ice cold against your swollen clit.

“sam,” you breathed weakly as he reached out, touch feather light as it trailed from your sopping hole to your clit, not enough to stimulate you, but enough to make you gasp, hips twitching.

“no,” sam hissed, removing his hand and slapping your thigh harshly, “you think i’m gonna play with this pathetic little pussy, look at it crying for me, so needy and wet. fucking pathetic,” he spat, “if you wanted something you should have called me, instead you got off with that little toy,” he said, glaring hatefully at the vibrator beside you.

“s’not the same,” you whimpered, “didn’t feel like you,” you pouted at him but sam simply shook his head.

“still used it didn’t you, saw you cum all over your self like a bitch in heat, squirming and moaning,” he scolded and your heart pounded.

“i… you weren’t…” you tried to say but same cut you off, hand coming up and grasping your cheeks, pinching them harshly.

“so you ask,” he grit out, “you pick up the phone and beg for me, beg for my hands, my cock and if you are a good girl you get them. but you weren’t a good girl where you, babe,” he frowned sympathetically.

“please,” you whined, words slurred by sam’s grasp on your cheeks.

“no,” sam growled, “you wanna cum again, you can use that stupid fucking toy and if you put on a good enough show maybe i’ll give you a treat,” he said, pulling back and seating himself at the chair beside your dresser with raised brows. “go on,” and who were you to disappoint.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

he’s such a cunt and i love him sm 🫶🏻

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #hopes fics ! #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you #darth vader x reader #sam monroe x you #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #star wars anakin #anakin #sam moroe drabble #anakin skywalker drabble

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒟𝓇ℴ𝓅 𝒾𝓉．

this came to me in a dream

Masterlist

Naive!reader, manipulative!rafe, mentions of murder

You made your way back up the stairs when you heard shouting from the backyard. You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing around. No one was here but Wheezie and you.

You moved and peeked out the curtain, seeing Rafe shout at Barry. The two argued over something you couldn’t quite hear, you watched them argue for a little bit more, watching them stop and Barry let out a sigh, shaking his head to himself and motioning to the ground.

You watched them both pick up something, a black bag of some sort. Rafe’s muscles flexed as he picked it up, both of them slowly trodding over to the boat with the bag.

You looked closer at the thing they carried, a large dark bag, it could be bricks, or something else. But the figure it made, you realized, was a body. You stumbled back slightly, the curtains falling back into place as you practically ran up the stairs.

You dropped your cup as well, the glass shattering on the stairs. You shut the door to the bathroom, your eyes wide and blown, your mind racing.

You were in there for a while. You washed your face, mumbling quietly to yourself. Maybe it’s not a body, maybe it was just-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Y/n?” Rafes voice called out, rapping on the door again.

“Y-yeah?”

“You okay…? Is that your glass on the stairs?” He asked, fumbling with the locked doorknob. His head was against the door, he smoothed down his hair.

“I’m fine. I just.. don’t feel good right now.” You said, unlocking and opening the door, giving him a false smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… think i got a fever.” You lied. He frowned, putting the back of his hand up to your forehead.

“You feel fine. C’mon, let’s get you to bed, I guess.” He muttered to you, but when he began to walk, your feet were planted into the bathroom.

He turned back, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Did you… did you kill someone, Rafe?” You asked him, your voice a whisper. You stared down at the ground, eyes on the pink, fuzzy socks you had on.

“W- what?” He said with a nervous laugh, a hand going to the back of his head. “What are you talking about, baby?” He began to step closer, but you backed up from him. He frowned at you.

“C’mon, are you- are you serious right now?” He said, tone changing. “Baby, why would I have-“

“I saw you and Barry, i went to get a glass of water- and- and.. i saw you both carrying a bag. Like- like a body bag… don’t lie to me, rafe.” You said, tears escaping your eyes. You sniffled and wiped them, looking back at him.

“Baby, I don’t know what you saw but it wasn’t what you thought… I mean,” he laughed again. “I haven’t… no. So, can we please, just… get back to bed now?” He spoke, his hands pinching his bridge of his nose.

“Rafe…”

“I didn’t.. I didn’t kill anyone, okay? Why don’t you believe me? Me and Barry were taking bricks to the boat. He’s building some shed, I didn’t ask.” He shrugged. “So just fucking drop it!” He said, his voice raising.

Your bottom lip quivered, he sighed and shook his head, he came closer, wrapping his arms around you, his hand on your head.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to scare you, jus’ can’t be.. can’t be accusing me of shit, got that?”

You nodded against him, he sighed and gave you a small smile when you looked at him and pulled away.

“‘m sorry, Rafey.”

“Let’s just… go to bed, yeah?”

#rafe fluff #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were (One Shot): It Fit Too Right

a/n: welcome to my all the things i did metaverse. please meet evelyn, a hollywood a-lister who falls in love with her co-star callum turner while filming masters of the air. this will most likely be a request based series so send them all in! would also love to flush out this relationship more with you guys through asks and chats. let me know what you think!!

He stood in the doorway of their hotel suite with a smile as he watched one person tug the corset of her gown tighter, another brush powder across her cheeks and a third place her hair over her shoulder in a meticulous manner. 

“I promise we’re almost done, baby.” 

“Don’t rush perfection on my account,” he said with a smile as he took a few steps into the room. “Let me help, love.” Callum grabbed the pair of heels from her stylist and dropped to one knee, Evelyn steadying herself on his shoulder as he slipped on one shoe and then the other. He kissed up her leg for good measure as she giggled, standing with a matching smile as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“People might get the wrong idea. You being on one knee like that.” In reality, he was just waiting for her to say she was ready and he’d be on one knee with a ring in hand in an instant. 

“The right idea you mean.” Evelyn blushed as her team began to filter out of the room. There was always a moment before every event that the two of them wanted time to themselves. They had gotten used to picking up the tempo for when it was arriving. “One day,” he followed up with a whisper. 

“One day. Soon.” He felt something blossom in his chest at her words. “Help me with my necklace?” The gold chain held a dainty C charm and fit perfectly snug around her neck as he clasped it securely.

“Gave you this necklace almost two years ago. So much has changed since then.” Yet so much had also stayed the same. They were still in each other’s orbit, circling the sun together and happy to live in this pattern for the rest of eternity. 

“And we finally get to show the world our love story.” Callum wrapped his arms around her from behind and they swayed gently to the song playing in his head. “Tracy told me there’s already stories lined up about the timeline of it all. About the overlap of still being legally married and filming the show and meeting you.” Her publicist warned her as soon as the premiere was scheduled that all the questions were going to get dragged up again. The accusations and the whispers of infidelity.

“I know the truth and you know the truth, Ev. That’s all that fucking matters.” The truth was that her marriage was a disaster the entire last year. The fights about his job and her job and fertility issues and the occasional bump of coke all mixing into a toxic sludge she was still working her way through years later.

“You’ll punch anyone who asks on the carpet or on the press tour?” She looked at him over her shoulder. 

“With a smile on my face,” Callum answered with a pucker of his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Begrudgingly, she untangled herself from his arms and interlocked their fingers together in its place. He squeezed tight as they took the elevator down to the lobby with their security, her other hand wrapping around his wrist for two anchor points at the sight of the paparazzi waiting for them on the sidewalk. 

“Evelyn! Callum! Look to the left!

“To the right, guys, come on a little smile please!”

“Callum, how about a kiss?”

His hand landed on the small of her back as he helped her into the waiting SUV before sliding in next to her. Evelyn collapsed as the door shut. “Fucking brutal,” she muttered.

“I’m hoping they get what they want at the carpet and they can leave us alone when we get back tonight.” He reached for her hand and held it in his lap. “What are my lanes in the road for touching you tonight?” 

“Are you feeling particularly handsy tonight, Mr. Turner?” she asked with a smirk as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed across each knuckle. 

“That dress is an inspiration.” She leaned in with a giggle and kissed him square on the mouth. 

“Then make sure everyone there tonight knows that.” His eyebrows raised on their own accord. 

“Yeah? You mean that?” Normally, she was much more reserved. Making him settle for longing stares and soft, hidden smiles and subtle allusions to each other. She hid from all the attention and let her work speak for itself. 

“Maybe…maybe the part of me that always wants to hide should work on healing herself tonight.” It also had been a piece of homework from her therapist this week. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah, we’ll work on it tonight. Together.” 

“Together,” she reiterated as he kissed her hand again and then her lips. 

“You make me so happy. No matter what.” 

“You make me happiest,” she laughed as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and left a few kisses there. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

----

The ride was over all too quickly, the SUV idling at the start of the carpet and the sounds of muffled screaming and yelling reaching their ears instantly. Ever since their relationship had been made public, there had been attention on them like neither had ever experienced. 

She had been called a cheater, he had been called a social climber. Accusations of adultery and a months-long affair behind her husband’s back and questions on how valid Callum’s feelings could be as a less well-known star than her. Hell, Howard Stern had straight up asked her on his radio show how it felt to have power over the person she was in a relationship with when she had been so powerless previously. Callum certainly hadn’t taken kindly to the implication. 

Quarantine had been the perfect bubble for their love to take root and flourish. Had insulated them from the outside world as long as possible and allowed her walls to come down. They were built up so high after her failed marriage. Reinforced as her mind worked through the mental fuckery of falling in love with your co-star. Evelyn hadn’t known where she began and the character ended for the longest time but she knew in her heart she wanted to figure it out with him. 

The roar reached a fever pitch as Callum stepped out of the car, buttoned his jacket and waved to a group of fans on the side. He waited for her, watched her take a deep breath and square her shoulders before she took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the vehicle. 

Her movie star smiled flitted across her face easily as their fingers interlocked and her own hand raised in a wave before letting her boyfriend slot his lips against hers to the delight of the camera flashes. 

“Let’s do a couple autographs before interviews.” Her publicist gently pressed on the small of her back to guide in the direction of glossy photographs and posters and an endless sea of markers.

Evelyn smiled warmly as she let go of his hand and began to scrawl her name across various posters of her in Targaryen garb or an old military uniform or the occasional photo she had taken with a fan previously that they were now adding her penmanship to.

“Can I get a selfie?”

“Yeah of course!” She smiled with as many fans as she could and let them take a few photos to choose from before she was getting the signal it was time to keep it moving. “Thanks for coming!” Evelyn blew a few kisses to the crowd before Callum had her hand right back in his for the ensuing carpet walk. 

“Ev, you want to go first?” Tracy asked as she was beginning to urge her to the first photomark. She hit the X and did her best to look at the cameras like she wanted to fuck them. Those were normally the only shots that kept their hunger sated and kept from yelling too explicitly at her the rest of the night. 

She looked over her shoulder and watched Callum smile and show off his suit like it was second nature and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to look at the photos later to see just how in love she was in this moment. He took her extended hand with a mischievous smile, falling in love all over again with this side of her that he knew well but she kept hidden from the outside world. 

“Let me get the two of you looking to the right!”

“Put your hands on her, mate!” “Look right at the camera with a smile, Evelyn!”

Callum furrowed his brow and wrapped his arm around her waist a little tighter as they kept fighting for a piece of them. They had both worked so hard to keep this one corner of their lives sacred and private but they couldn’t stay that way forever. Especially when they were trying to promote the show that brought them together in the first place. 

“You good?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Hold my hand the rest of the carpet?”

“Of course, love.” Their eyes stayed locked together as he kissed the back of her hand and they made their way towards the first interviewer. 

“It’s so good to see you guys again!”

“It’s good to see you too! It’s been a minute,” Evelyn replied.

“Last time I saw you, Callum, you were with George Clooney which is a hard interview companion to top-”

“Oh, I’ve done it. This one’s my companion for life.” She couldn’t help but blush at his forwardness. “This show brought so many beautiful people to my life and introduced me to this incredible story of these men and the sacrifices they made for us but I’ll never be able to articulate what meeting this woman and falling in love with her has done for me and the honor that has truly been.” 

“This is why my team is always trying to keep us separate in front of a microphone because we always get a little in our feels about each other.” Evelyn rested her cheek against his chest.

“Tell me about that. You guys film this show and feel some vibes and then the premiere gets delayed for two years. Does this add to the nervousness or does it add to the excitement?”

“Definitely both,” Evelyn teases, “the characters are real people, real heroes, so there is such a desire to make sure the story is told in the most accurate, thankful way. Part of making sure that happened was fully devoting ourselves to the relationship between these two and to discover something real in the process was a really happy accident.” Her hand rested on his cheek and he kissed her palm, looking at her like she was the only girl in the entire world. For him she was.

“We had the opportunity to meet their children and grandchildren which was such a blessing because on paper I was skeptical, it seemed written for the movies, but they had letters and pictures and stories that really showed these two loved each other in a magical way their entire lives.”

“And what’s next for you two? I hear rumors we may see you, Ms. Shaw, in a movie about sand and worms…” Evelyn laughed. 

“I hear Austin Butler loves worms so you should ask him. I know nothing about a movie with those themes.” She mimed sealing her lips and throwing away the key. The interviewer looked to Callum for help.

“Hey, I know even less than you do. This one’s a steel trap.” 

“Alright, I’m getting the signal that the most in demand people on this carpet tonight are needing to move along. Have the best night ever you two!” They both offered their thanks before a team of security and assistants collapsed ranks around them as they moved down the carpet. 

“How’d we do, Trace?” Callum asked as he swung their interlocked hands back and forth. 

“You were on your best behavior. Thank you.” Evelyn was a typical client for a publicist. Did good work and got high profile projects, never caused controversy in an interview but had some skeletons in her closet. Evelyn always did exactly as she asked and took her advice as gospel. Her boyfriend on the other hand was all boisterous and laughed and sang and had not a care in the world. He wanted to hold her and kiss and let the whole world know he was in love with her and scream it from the rooftops. 

“I see Mr. Butler!” Evelyn pointed directly ahead to the tall blonde man taking photos with Barry. “Oh, and Barry! I haven’t seen him recently enough to ask about bathwater.”

“Look who it is! My first and second wheel!” Austin lifted her up and spun her around before greeting Callum. “You two walking together?” While he was very familiar with their PDA behind closed doors, it was rare to see it out in the open. 

“This is as close to her accepting a proposal as I’m gonna get, mate.” Ev rolled her eyes and turned to get in between them for the row of photographers currently screaming at them. She is safe in between the two of them. Had needed every ounce of it when she had arrived on set all those years ago. 

She knew Callum had a ring tucked away somewhere safe. Knew he was dying with every passing day to make things between them official forever. She meant soon when she had said it earlier. 

Evelyn looked up at him as the camera continued to blind her and she tuned them out. She smiled and he smiled right back. “I love you,” he whispered so it existed just between the two of them. 

“I love you, too. So much.” 

Yes. Soon indeed.

#callum turner #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #callum turner fic #callum turner x oc #callum turner x reader #evelyn

[hawkinsquarry]

all things must pass (steve x reader)

summary: steve makes you leave him at the end of the world.

contains: steve x reader; gender unspecified reader; no pronouns used for reader; post-st4; unresolved angst; probably too much swearing :/

i miss this guy and i’m feeling insane over him so have some angst with an ambiguous ending 🫶🏻

Steve’s feet feel particularly heavy when we steps across your foyer. And the packet he has in his hands feels even heavier. He brushes off a few specs of ashes before slamming them down on the table in front of you, lazily eating cereal.

“What the hell is this?” you ask after a moment, grabbing the ledger on top. You know immediately it’s an airline ticket. It makes you feel sick and you push your Cheerios away as your eyes scan the details.

FROM-TO

IND > LA

You want to fucking kill him but you don’t have a chance as he breezes past, grabbing your suitcase out of your walk in closet.

“You depart in twelve hours,” he starts. He recited it in his head the entire way over to make the conversation easier, but the words are hard to get out. “Only take your essentials. When you’re there, a chauffeur will pick you up and take you to the - the - the location.”

“Steve, I’m not fucking going -“

“Yes, you are.” He says sternly. Like you’re a child.

“I’m not going anywhere without you!”

And he know this was coming - this cyclical argument you’ve been having for the last three weeks, your tears, the lump in his throat, uncertainly fogging both of your vision. But it doesn’t make it any easier, any less frustrating.

He says your name low and quiet. A plea. “This is safe. This is where the - the - the people I know told me to send you. That it’s the safest place.”

“And we’re trusting those people now?”

“No. W-well, yes! It - it’s - just - trust me, not them. Okay?” He settles your suitcase on the couch and starts moving around your living room for things he knows you’ll need. A blanket. Medicine. “Anywhere away from here is better, anyway.”

“So you admit it isn’t safe?”

Steve sniffles. “I never said it was.”

You follow him to your bedroom where he begins ripping clothes from your closet. He doesn’t miss the hoodie he leant you a few months ago. It’s laid on top of your suitcase with more shirts and pants.

You grab his arm and try to force it to fall back to his side, but he’s too strong, god damn him. “Steve, quit!” you beg, digging your heels into the ground and tugging on him. “I’m not leaving, Steve. I’m not going unless you go with me.”

“We talked about this.”

As nauseam, in fact. Until the ache in Steve’s throat was excruciating. Until your voice was hoarse and you were heaving. He’s not leaving, and you are.

You tug on him again. “I’ll keep talking about it until you listen to me!”

He doesn’t say anything. Just keeps moving back and forth between your closet and the suitcase. You cry, as hard as you try not to. You really are like a petulant child, stomping your foot, throwing a tantrum. You feel like it’s the only way he’ll listen, but you know the reality is that he still won’t.

“What about me?” you cry. You’re so angry at him, want to say something that’ll make him hurt. That’ll change the expression on his stoic face. You find it in you to refrain. “What about us, Steve?”

Keeps packing. Head down. Jaw clenched tight. He was ready for this fight when he walked in.

“Steve, let the goddamn military handle it. Do - do you honestly think you’re going to save the world?”

“No,” he snaps.

“Then what?”

He doesn’t answer because you already know why. Because he can’t leave Dustin, and Dustin can’t leave El, because apparently she can save the world. And Robin won’t leave Steve who won’t leave Dustin who won’t leave El. And Nancy fucking Wheeler won’t leave Mike who won’t leave El.

It makes you feel insane. Your blood boils and spills over, and over, and over, and it never just depletes. You keep going, keep arguing, trying to talk him out of it until your voice is hoarse. It’s hoarse now, in fact. Last night Steve held you until you shut up, until you cried yourself to sleep, and you had no idea he had already got you a plane ticket out of here. You feel so betrayed it makes your stomach twist and chest ache.

“I can’t live without you,” you try. It’s the third time you’ve pulled this and it seems to get him the most. “Steve, I don’t know what I’d do if - if….”

Steve bites his cheek, stilling, his hands clutching one of your sweaters.

“Why don’t you care?” you push.

He sniffles again, pinches his nose. You’d prefer it if he’d just let himself cry. He’d give in, then, if he let his emotions take over.

“Don’t you love me?”

“Jesus, yes,” he grits, finally looking at you. His eyes are red. “Why do you think I’m makin’ you leave, huh? Why do you think I’m staying?”

“Because you think you’re something you’re not!”

He runs a big hand through his hair so harshly you fear it’ll get tugged out. He walks towards you, holding his arms out, murmuring, “honey,” and as much as it pains you, you back away.

“Don’t,” you say sharply. Your throat aches. “Don’t do that, Steve.”

“I love you.” He sounds exhausted. “I love you, please believe me.”

“If you love me, then come with me.”

“There won’t be a world for us to live in unless we stop this.”

“You aren’t going to save the world.” You’re so desperate for him to listen to you. “The chances are so slim, Steve. Why can’t we love each other while we have time?”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “I won’t let you die without doing something about it first.”

You stare at each other. It’s suddenly dawning on you that nothing you’ll do will ever change his mind. That his chances of living through the next few days are slim. That this is the last time you’ll get to see him. While he’s packing for you and forcing you to take a plane to California.

There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s not like what you’ve seen in the movies you rented from Family Video when Steve had a shift. Before he was yours. When you went because the forest green vest looked so good on him, and he always had some goofy recommendation, and he let his hands touch yours when giving you your change for a moment too long.

You’ve hardly even had him.

“So that’s it?” You can hardly hear yourself.

“I’m doing this for you. I’m doing everything for you. And - and i-if it works, I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear, angel.”

You shake your head, hot tears making their way down your jaw. “No.”

He stills. Looks a little like a deer in headlights. Caught off guard, shocked. Mouth parting slightly before closing again, like he wants to argue but can’t.

What is there to say?

“If you make me get on that plane, Steve….” You shake your head again, swallowing the ache in your throat down.

You stare at each other again. His eyes are one of your favorite things about him. Those saccharine, chestnut and moss colored irises. They scrunch up when he laughs. You used to think about leaving Hawkins and moving somewhere nice, so far away from all of this that Steve grows up to have crows feet around his eyes. That you’d be the one who put them there. And this is the last time you’ll see them.

“You have to go,” he eventually sniffles.

“Please,” you try, for the final time.

He blinks slowly, frowning, chest rising and falling slowly. “I love you,” he whispers. “Please believe me.”

You’re not sure if you can.

#steve harrington x reader #han posts #steve x reader

[blooming-violets]

Lucky number 13 for Nature please :)

Apple Of My Eye || TASM Smut

Nature - 13: beneath the shade of trees in the middle of an orchard

[TASM Peter Parker x Fem!Reader]

WC: 1k (look at me being short and sweet for once in my damn life)

A/N: Two weeks later and I'm finally start to write for these prompts! I'm a slow bitch, I can not help it.

“It’s colder than I thought it would be out here.” She wrapped her arms around her sweater to try and hug out the chill in her bones. “I don’t think a skirt and tights was the right choice.” 

Peter’s eyes roved over her body, taking in her legs in the sheer tights, “I think they were the perfect choice.” 

That was easy for him to say. He had pants on. 

She rolled her eyes and dropped the wooden basket full of apples she was carrying at the base of the closest tree trunk. 

“Your opinions don’t count when you just like how my legs look in tights.” 

They had been wandering through this apple orchard for almost two hours. At this point in their trek, they had yet to come across any other pickers for over forty minutes. They were deep into the orchard. 

Probably lost. 

Though Peter would never admit that. 

With two full baskets of apples, they had more than enough for her mother, May, and themselves. 

She sighed and leaned against the knotted tree, kicking at a rotten apple with the toe of her leather boot. 

She was tired and hungry and cold and sick of picking apples. 

“Are you going to give me your jacket or are you just going to stare at my legs some more?”

Peter tore his eyes away from watching the way the light breeze made her skirt dance around her thighs. 

“What?”

She threw up her hands in exasperation, “Oh my god!”

He laughed, tackling her off the tree and wrapping his arms around her, dragging her straight to the dew covered grass. 

“I was kidding, baby, kidding!” He pinned her to the ground, keeping her shoulders locked down with his palms and sliding his knees around her hips.

She couldn’t remember the last time she laid on the grass without a blanket between her and the ground. 

“Peter!” She cried. “It’s wet down here. Cold and wet. Probably bugs. Worms. Little beetles. Oh god, spiders!”

“Shut up,” he laughed. He shoved his lips against hers to keep her quiet with a kiss. “It’s not cold. You’re just tired and cranky because we’ve been walking for approximately ten full business days while carrying all these apples.”

She nodded, huffing, “This is true. You got us lost. And now you’ve forced me to lay in Spider’s Ville. I bet they're crawling in my hair right now and laying their eggs.”

“The only spider down here is me and I’m already on top of you so you have nothing more to worry about.” 

That got her to drop a bit of her attitude, turning her head to the side, the wet grass tickling her cheek, as she tried to hide her smile.

“Don’t you turn away from me when I’m being cute,” he chastised. 

His hand slipped around her chin to gently turn her face back to him. He leaned down to kiss her again. 

Taking his time. 

Adoring her lips. 

He slid down her body and forced himself to a kneel between her legs.

“You don’t need my jacket. I have other ways of warming you up,” he whispered, throwing a wink at her. 

Her eyes widened in surprise, “Not here! We’re in public!”

Peter lifted his head and looked around, “Baby, please, all I see is you, me, and a shit ton of apples.” 

“Well they could come!” 

A suggestive smirk grew across his lips, “You’ll be the only cumming, don’t worry.” 

Before she could even protest, his hand was slipping up her shirt and covering her breast over her bra, while he attacked her mouth with fiery kisses. 

“Omph, Peter,” she tried to breathe through his kiss. “This is…is…oh.” 

He had tugged down the strap of her bra, loosening the cup, so he could access her nipple. As she spoke, he flicked a finger against it, causing her to forget her words. 

Her quiet moans in response were all he needed to keep going. 

His tongue slipped past her lips, tangling with hers, enticing her to play along. 

Her body relaxed, hands slowly moving up to run through his hair, as she submitted to his will. 

The moment he felt her give in, he was ready to go. 

Peter broke from the kiss to slide down her stomach. He trailed kisses over her sweater until he reached her skirt. 

“You said you didn’t like these tights, right?” He panted, eyes wide with mischief. “They weren’t keeping you warm enough?”

She silently nodded, still trying to catch her breath from his dizzying kiss. 

His hand disappeared under her skirt and a loud RIP followed. 

She gasped in shock, “Peter!” She felt the massive hole he had torn open in her crotch. “That’s your solution to me being cold? Ripping my clothes off me? Counter productive.”

He chuckled under his breath, already settling himself in the grass between her legs, laying on his stomach and smirking up at her. 

“Are you really that averse to my methods?”

She went quiet, hiding her need to smile. She wasn’t averse to it. She actually found it to be incredibly sexy. They were just a pair of cheap tights. 

But she refused to tell him that. 

He winked, reading her facial expressions anyway, “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and let me eat you like one of these apples.” 

Chilly hands gently hooked behind her knees, raising her legs and spreading them wider, so he could scoot his shoulders closer. Peter pushed aside her underwear and let out a happy sigh at the sight awaiting him. 

“I love this pussy,” he whispered to it. 

His head ducked under her skirt and descended to her inner thighs. He brought his lips to her soft, rolling flesh. He traveled with kisses over her stretch marks and blemishes that he would never allow her to even think about calling imperfections. 

There wasn’t a single inch of her skin that Peter didn’t adore. 

Whatever reservations she might have had moments ago fly away the moment his breath hit her where she needed it most. The anticipation of what was to come had stoked a spark of her desire into a roaring lame. She didn’t care where he took her just as long as his tongue was buried in her pussy. 

A whimper escaped her as they made contact. 

She felt him give a breathy, hot laugh against her, knowing just as well as she did that she was enjoying this more than she wanted to let on. 

He mumbled against her dewy lips, “You’re the cutest.”

He always loved hearing her whimper and moan despite all the fight she would put up. 

She would give in. 

Every time. 

Peter delved back in, licking a steady stripe over her soft folds, dipping into her for a taste before dragging his tongue back up to her clit. 

Tight, slow circles toyed with her sweet bud. 

His mintrations were reserved. Lazy. Like he was purposely taking his time to savor every stretching second. 

Languid and precise. 

But it wasn’t long until he had her mewling and writhing over him. 

The sounds urged him to hasten his work. 

He wrapped his arms around her legs, pushing them up, locking his arms over her stomach so he could hold her closer. His face buried into her. Head hidden under her skirt. Lapping his tongue over her soaked, sensitive folds. Tending to her clit, worshiping it between his lips, before sinking his tongue back into her for another taste. 

Heat rose over her body, warming her skin, pushing away the chill. 

At least he was correct in delivering on that front. She was no longer cold. 

Steaming hot. 

Panting. 

Her thighs trembled in Peter’s hold as pleasure seemed to pulse out from between them. 

She let out a long, gasping moan. Trying to be silent should anyone be nearby but unable to keep it in. 

Peter was too good with his tongue. 

He responded with a guttural moan of his own from under her skirt, eating her out like a starving man unabashedly enjoying his first meal in days. 

The vibrations of such a low, growling moan spread across her clit and sent shivers up her arching spine. 

Her fists clenched at clumps of wet grass. 

Feeling it give way in her hands. Ripping up. Dirt sinking under her nails. 

She should be embarrassed how quickly Peter could take her from complaining about the cold to forcing her to orgasm but she couldn’t focus on anything besides that building pleasure. 

His tongue pulled breathy whimpers from her lips. 

Easing her closer and closer to that beautiful release. 

“P-Peter!’ She gasped, letting out a desperate, needy whine. “Feels…so good!”

He was mumbling something against her lips but his words were muffled out by her cunt. 

His grip around her belly tightened. 

He knew she was almost there. 

Hanging on by a quivering thread. 

Peter turned all his attention to making love to her clit.

Her hips canted, arching off the ground. 

Peter anticipated the move, shifting to follow her, knowing her well enough to predict where her body will go. Never letting the latch his mouth had on her pussy slip for even a second. 

Her calves shook under her weight, holding her up, following her trembling thighs as her body gave in. 

Her hand slammed across her mouth to stifle the shriek she desperately wanted to let rip. Letting it fall against her heavy, clamped hand instead.

Smelling the earthy dirt mixed with juicy apples against her fingers. 

The faint smell of sex lingering in the wind. 

Wet grass clinging to her skin. 

Her clothes, damp. 

Her body, on fire. 

Peter stayed dutifully to her spasming pussy, letting her ride it out, sucking out every last drop she had to give, until she came crashing back to earth. 

He lapped through her folds with moaning growls of delight as he cleaned her with his tongue. 

It was only when she couldn’t take it anymore, far too sensitive post orgasm, that she shoved him out from under her skirt with her hand. 

He emerged with a lopsided, glistening grin that screamed a silent “I told you so”. 

It was only them and the apples. 

Not a single person wandered on to the erotic feast he had devoured. 

She threw a sweatered arm over her eyes to block out the sight of red apples against the deep blue sky. 

Breathing heavily.

Feeling uncomfortable wet down below. 

She felt him crawling over her. The weight of his stomach pressed against her. 

His salty lips urged her out of hiding with his tongue gliding into her mouth.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him deeply. 

Peter’s eyes were shining, proud of the work he had done this lazy afternoon.

He didn’t care for her ripped tights or soaked underwear or the fact that they were both covered in wet grass stains. 

All he cared about was her and making sure her mood had shifted. 

She shook her head up at him, still not fully believing he had suckered her into this.

“I love you to my core,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the apple of my eye. You’re so a-peel-ing to me, baby. Let’s go home and live apple-y ever after.” 

“I literally hate you so much right now.” 

His laughter was enough to prove her statement false. 

She loved him. 

Even if he was a dork.

#andrew garfield #peter parker #tasm #the amazing spiderman #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm fic #peter parker x reader #apple of my eye #blooming violets fic #blooming violets

[syrupfog]

Law being the most anemic fucking vampire. 

Like he doesn’t pick up on hunger cues, especially when studying in med school and during his fellowship time. Will go days without feeding because he doesn’t notice he needs to until one day he stands up and just falls the fuck over

Like he becomes well known in his apartment complex because of the number of times he’s passed out on the stairs. 

He doesn’t change his ways though until he comes to on the landing with his neighbour looming over him.

“Zoro says you’re a vampire” the neighbour says. 

Law doesn’t know his neighbours he has no clue who Zoro is. “I’m a vampire,” he says, groaning as he sits up. 

Neighbour nods, walks over and fucking HEADBUTTS the wall. Some cement crumbles.

Law gapes at him. 

The neighbour walks back, looking mostly fine (definitely has a concussion) with a trickle of a bloody nose. 

“Here you go!” He says brightly. 

Law gives him a horrified face. He scrambles back when he thinks the neighbour is going to headbutt him too.

But the man just walks up to him and swipes the blood off his face and onto Law’s face, like you’re supposed to do to get kittens to eat. 

He’s grinning. Very wide. 

“Please don’t ever do that again,” Law says. He wipes the blood off his face.

The man frowns “I worked hard for that!” He says. 

“I’m not rewarding bad behaviour,” Law says petulantly. 

“You passed out on the stairs!” 

“That’s beside the point.” 

Law has blood bags at home. He doesn’t need a weird stranger’s blood. He probably has mad cow.

The man crosses his arms. “Well I think that’s rude,” he says. 

Law sighs. He’s still lightheaded. “How about next time you want to donate blood, you ask me first? I can take some WITHOUT giving you a concussion.” 

The man brightens. “Okay!!” He says, excited now.

“Im Luffy! It’s nice to meet you, vampire!” 

“Trafalgar,” saw Law. 

“Traffy,” says Luffy. 

Law narrows his eyes. He senses arguing is futile.

Law never actually means to take Luffy up on his offer. He HAS blood, he just forgets to take it. Every time Luffy offers, he tells him he’s got blood at home, maybe next time. 

That all changes when a summer storm rolls in and they lose power.

They’re out of power for almost four days, a sickly still and wet heat settling in the city. And when Law wakes up after passing out in his kitchenette, he realises he’s actually in need. 

He doesn’t even know where in the complex Luffy lives, but it turns out not to be an issue.

He’s just made it down the stairs when the fire door in front of him opens and— 

“TRAFFY!”

 “Luffy,” Law groans despite himself. 

“Do you need—“ 

“Yes.” Law grabs his wrist. “Come with me.” 

Luffy obediently follows him back up the stairs to his apartment.

Law drags him in and sets him at the table. “You’re going to want to refill on protein and sugar after this,” he says. 

“Okay!” Luffy says, expression bright. 

Law sighs. He wipes down Luffy’s forearm with an alcohol pad before grabbing his wrist and sinking his teeth in.

Usually humans taste gross. Blood at the best of times is a neutral flavour, but skin and arm hair and sweat are disgusting. 

But Luffy?

 Luffy… tastes like honeyed ham. 

Law pulls back, a wet noise as he pulls his fangs out. “Why do you taste like that?” He asks, alarmed.

“Like what?” Luffy asks. 

“Like… glazed ham?” 

Luffy laughs. “Silly,” he says. “Because I was eating glazed ham, of course!” 

Law bit close to Luffy’s elbow. He also sanitised the area. How on EARTH did the taste permeate his skin so well?

With trepidation, Law goes back to feeding. It’s with horror he realises he… likes the glazed ham taste with the blood. It’s like drinking flavoured coffee; useless accoutrement but pleasing nonetheless. 

When he’s drunk enough he’s confident he won’t be falling down stairs,

Law cleans Luffy’s arm and attaches two small round plasters to the holes. 

“Fun!” Luffy says, looking at them. “Fang sized!” 

“Thanks,” Law says. “You can go now.” 

Luffy blinks at him. “Let’s hang out,” he says. 

Law blinks back at him. “I have to—“ he gestures at his apartment.

Considering they are IN his apartment, he’s just sort of gesturing at everything. 

“That’s cool,” Luffy says. “I’ll just stay here.” 

Law… nods. “Okay,” he says. The power’s still out, it’s not like he was going to actually do anything anyway.

What Law doesn’t know is that once Luffy’s gotten into Law’s apartment once, he’s gonna always assume he’s welcome. 

Even when Law tries to kick him out. S

ometimes (often) Luffy is just. Here now. 

And unfortunately, like the glazed ham taste, Law realises he sort of likes it.

#lulaw #lawlu #my writing

[bloodynereid]

can you do literally anything with tara carpenter x reader (with a happy ending) because jenna ortega my loveee <33 - 🧚🏻

Hiding Place

pairing: tara carpenter x gn! reader

warnings: blood, killing/murder, kissing, the usual scream warnings

description: you and tara are stuck in a closet... again.

a/n: tysm for your request 🧚🏻anon! im sorry it took me so long to write, i hope you enjoy this as much as i liked writing it. ALSO i haven't watched scream (2022) in a while so i apologize if there are any like contextual mistakes.

Your fingers were clenched tightly against Tara’s sweater as you tried to calm your racing breath. The air in the closet was too stuffy and the proximity to Tara was definitely not helping. You couldn’t get your brain to stop thinking about what it would be like to just lean over and kiss her.

“Are you okay?” You deign to whisper into Tara’s ear, leaning as close to her as possible to hopefully mask the sound of your voice from anyone that could be outside.

“Not really, you?”

“If you consider getting stuck in a closet, waiting for death being okay then I’m doing great.” Tara’s mouth quirked up in a smile and she turned to look at you. Her brown eyes met yours as she let out a deep sigh.

“You really don’t need to stay with me. You can just go.”

“Tara… you’re my person, okay? I’m staying with you because I want to. Plus you need someone strong to protect you, hmm?”

“My knight in shining armor…” Tara said, trailing off slightly as she bit her lip. You smiled at her and rubbed her shoulder slightly, trying to make sure that the clothing around you didn’t make too much noise. “Thank you, really. You’re my person too.”

“I sure hope so.” You whispered in response, watching as Tara’s face lit up with a smile, even in her tired state she looked beautiful. “God you remember when we were last stuck in a closet together.”

“Seven minutes in heaven. Jesus, that feels like it was a billion years ago.” Tara said with a sigh and you nodded.

“I know right.”

“I never did know why you didn’t kiss me then.”

“Wha-” Your jaw had dropped and you knew you were staring as Tara quickly looked away from your face. “Tara… I would have kissed you then if I had known you had wanted me to.”

“And you just didn’t think to ask?”

“Tara… you were literally talking to Amber about your crush on that football player. I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“You have always had a chance.”

“So if I wanted to kiss you right now, what would you say?”

���I would say yes. We might die after all, it’s now or never.” You smiled slightly, feeling as the butterflies in your stomach took flight. You leaned closer to Tara, softly brushing your lips against hers and letting your eyes fall closed. She responded in turn, surging forward slightly to press her lips firmer against yours.

The dangers of the outside world fell away so all you could focus on was Tara. The way she felt against you and how long you had been craving this.

Moments later, after what felt like a blissful hour, you broke away from each other. Both of you laughed silently and you could feel your face brightening with a smile. That was before loud screaming broke you both out of the reverie.

Loud footsteps were heard outside of the closet door and you leaned down to pick up the knife you had managed to grab before rushing into the closet with Tara.

“Get behind me. I think we need to move.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be fine, okay?”

“Okay. I trust you.” You nod and then carefully open up one of the doors, stepping out into the hallway. You look over the bannister and see as Sam and Richie struggle for a few moments before Sam succeeds in killing him.

You feel Tara’s hand on your arm as you help her down the stairs, still holding onto the knife tightly. You never know when something or someone will jump out. When you get down the stairs you glance at the gun next to the bannister.

Swapping out your knife for the gun you feel the weight of it in your hand as you turn to Tara and brush a strand of hair away from her face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” You look over to where Sid and Gale walk out and smile at them. Sam rushes over to grab at Tara and you feel as they hug each other from next to you.

But the movie isn’t over yet because moments later Amber rushes out. You pull out the gun and shoot. She collapses in a heap as Tara gasps from next to you.

“No one tries to kill my girlfriend and gets away with it.” You breathe out as you lower the gun. Turning to smile at Tara as she smiles back at you.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #scream x reader #scream #scream movies #scream 2022 #scream x you #tara carpenter x yn #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

[hazelfoureyes]

i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ

Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system

「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」

Stalker’s Tango

From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.

The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.

He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.

When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’

“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.

Another text. ‘Heated.’

He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’

When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.

No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.

Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.

A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.

“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”

Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.

Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.

A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.

Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”

“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”

“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”

The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”

The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”

He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.

Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.

Sixty seconds. Where were you?

Ninety seconds. Where were you.

One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!

Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.

“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”

He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.

Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.

A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”

As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.

Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.

“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.

You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”

A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”

“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”

“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”

He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.

His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.

“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”

He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.

“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”

Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #vox #hazbin vox

[lily-fics-11]

Maybe I Just Like Seeing You Fired Up (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

This is my first time writing Ellie so I hope you like it. Lmk what you think:)

Inspired by a prompt by @remy-lupin

CW: Not beta read, profanities, sexual undertones, mention of injury, pet names

You rarely got assigned to patrol with Ellie, which was no coincidence. The two of you have a tendency to butt heads. You by no means hate, or even dislike her, you just operate in different ways. Your social circles didn’t overlap, she was a little younger than you. So the only time you had ever spent with her was on patrol, where disagreements were consistent. It only got worse over time. After many others had observed your bickering, the two of you stopped being scheduled together. 

Unfortunately, a few minor injuries had been sustained when an unexpected storm rolled in during a scouting trip yesterday. You hadn’t been there, and neither had Ellie. You were more than willing to pick up the extra shift that they asked you to. 

After emerging into a clearing from some densely packed trees, you look over at Ellie. Her toned arms are crossed and you can tell by the look on her face that she is also pondering what move to make. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, knowing that this would most likely cause the first of many disagreements. 

Ellie is the first to share her thoughts. “That hill looks pretty rocky, we should probably dismount and check how stable the terrain is before trying to take the horses over it.”

Not what you were thinking, but you had been begged to play nice.

You nod at her, “we can do that.”

“Oh really?” Ellie asks smugly.

You dismount your horse and straighten up your posture. “That’s why I said it.”

“I’m just surprised.” Ellie snickers.

You put your hands on your hips. “This shouldn’t take more than a few hours, and we are both adults. I’m sure we can manage to cooperate knowing we shouldn’t have to do this again any time soon.”

Ellie hops off her horse. “I actually agree with you for once.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way.”

The two of you approach the bottom of the hill. The incline is mild, so if the rocks aren’t loose, the trek over could actually save some time. The two of you start to kick and pull at rocks.

At the same time that you say “I’m not so sure about this,” Ellie declares “seems alright to me.” She’s always been a risk taker. 

You look over at Ellie and roll your eyes which causes her to sigh. “So much for getting along,” she mumbles. 

“Come on Ellie, the rocks are stable right at the bottom but there are a few loose ones as you go higher up and for all we know it could get worse.”

“Fine, give me a second to test that theory,” Ellie tells you, sounding a little annoyed as she starts to climb a little higher. 

“Ellie, that's not a good idea. The last thing we need is another injury.”

She gives you a sarcastic smile. “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be careful.”

“Why do you always feel the need to challenge me?” you scoff, head tilted to one side, taking a step towards her. To Ellie that was a challenge, igniting a fire in her emerald eyes. She moves forwards slowly, until your faces are mere inches apart, with a cocky grin on her face. “Maybe I just like seeing you fired up.”

That was not at all what you expected so you retreat a few steps to try and recollect yourself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire. Her statement was far more personal than anything either of you had ever said to each other, aside from the small talk before you realized that you clashed. From very early on things had been strictly business. Her mischievous eyes roll playfully. “Oh come on, I know you’re smarter than that.”

“Quit fucking around Ellie.” You check the time on your watch, getting impatient. 

“I think we should clear the air,” she suggests with urgency. 

“Of what?” You question, gesturing to the space around you. 

Ellie mimics you, which you do not appreciate. “This tension that we have. I know we don't see eye to eye, but I think there is more to it. How else would a little stubbornness escalate to keeping us separated all the time?” Your eyes wander around, looking for where she got the audacity. 

Ellie is still trying to prove her point. “Like I said, I don’t think that’s it.”

You put your hands up in the air. “I’m out of guesses here.”

“Everyone knows you like girls,” Ellie smirks, “I think you like me.”

“Oh really? I like girls so I must like you, is that it? Fuck off.” You turn away, back towards your horse but Ellie grabs your arm. You try to free yourself from her grip but it’s useless. You look at her over your shoulder. 

“Alright, maybe I’m projecting, but I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She says bluntly. 

You would be lying if you denied how attractive Ellie is. That her smile is endearing and you like how her eyes sparkle when she gets excited about something. You may have even had a bit of a crush on her before you met. But then you actually spoke to her. There was friction and there was another girl pursuing you, so you dropped it.

“But the only reason I’ve noticed is because I’m always looking at you,” Ellie admits, eyes softening as she bites the lips you've tried not to pay attention to. “Ellie, we don't have time for this.”

“Fine, I can wait. I’ll even make a deal with you. We do this your way, and we finish this conversation later.”

Standing on Ellie’s front porch, you hesitate to knock. This was bound to be awkward, like the rest of patrol had been. She had relinquished control and allowed you to call the shots. At least if she had challenged every call you made like she usually does it would not have been silent.

When Ellie opens the door she bites back a smile and lets you in. You follow her into the living room and sit down on her couch. You nervously try to get comfortable. Despite achieving physical comfort, you are anxious as hell. There are a lot of different ways this could go and most of them were bad. But when a girl like Ellie Williams notices you, that’s not something you can just ignore. And when a girl that looks like Ellie Williams asks you to do something, how could you ever say no?

Ellie sits with her legs spread, her elbows resting on her knees. At first she looked down at the floor, even though you were expecting her to talk first.

“So…” you say, trying to find a train of thought. 

Ellie’s glances over at you, looking a little lost at first. But after searching your eyes for a moment you can see her focus on you. “I’m sorry. I invited you here. How was the rest of your day?”

“Nothing special. Just spent some time outside reading.”

“Did you eat something? If not, I can make you something.” You really aren’t used to seeing this softer side of Ellie. Her shit eating grin had seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. But her smile is sweet, her eyes are soft, and her cheeks are flushed pink. 

You know you are failing to hide your smile. “That’s actually very sweet of you, thank you, but I had dinner already.”

Ellie elbows playfully, “don’t sound so surprised.” You have to take a deep breath as you try and figure out how you feel about the physical contact.

Failing to look her in the eyes, you tell her that “you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Williams.”

Ellie gasps dramatically. “Really? I would describe myself as a radiant beam of light. Maybe if you gave me a chance you would know that.”

You rest your chin on your hand, ready to listen. “Then let me get to know you. I came here to talk, so let’s talk.”

“One night at the bar I saw you when you came in and I did a bit of a double take. That older girl, I can’t remember her name, but she works across the way at that little shop with her family. She had her arm around you.” Ellie is referring to your ex-girlfriend. A few years older than you, so a fair bit older than Ellie.

You nervously play with your hair. “We aren’t together anymore, things just… didn't work out.”

“Oh I know.”

“You do?” 

Ellie smiles and looks down at her converse. “I haven’t always, but I’ve been paying attention to you. It’s not that I had never looked at you before, I’d just never really seen you. It wasn’t until I saw you with another girl that I noticed all the little things. The way even plain colors bring out your eyes, the shadows that dim lighting create on your face. When you smile… your whole face lights up. And the way you laugh? You always scrunch up your nose and tuck your hair behind your ear. After that night my eyes always seemed to find you, in every room. I looked forward to seeing you when we still got put on shifts together, but I didn’t know how to act around you so I just ended up pissing you off and we both know how that ended. After that I had to settle for seeing you during briefs when we were working at the same time, before we got sent off our separate ways. If I got lucky I would see you when we happened to be in the same place in town at the same time. At first I thought I was crazy, until I realized you were actually looking back. You would glance over your shoulder or peek out of the corner of your eye, and smile when you looked away.”

“I guess I knew that I looked at you sometimes. But all those things that you noticed about me… I had no idea that you did. I had always assumed you never thought twice about me.”

Ellie looks deeply into your eyes when she tells you “I spend more time thinking about you then I care to admit. Ever since I found out about your breakup I’ve been wanting to talk to you. So when they told me I was going to be assigned someone different today, I asked for it to be you.

“You could have just talked to me.”

“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t like me. And you are intimidating. You aren’t just any girl. You are smart and strong-willed and passionate.”

The compliment takes you by surprise so you are unsure of how to respond to it. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I just disagree with you most of the time.”

Ellie bites her lip. “So what do you like about me?”

Unprepared for this question you mumble “um, your tattoo?”

Ellie crossed her arms, “I meant about my personality. But fine, we can start there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that you like it. Do you have any?”

“Yeah, vines, up the side of my ribcage. Do you want to see?”

“It’s on your… you’d have to take off your…” the panic in her eyes was obvious. 

You stand and slide your shirt up, just enough to show the entire tattoo. Ellie’s eyes widen and her jaw slightly drops. 

“That's…”

“Hot? That’s what people usually tell me.”

“Got a bit of an ego there, don't ya. But yeah, actually. Like really hot.”

“You can touch it, if you want,” offering it up because you feel a bit mischievous.

Ellie purses her mouth as she traces her index finger over the vine, starting just above your hip bone and going all the way to the base of your breast. Her long fingers almost graze over the edge of your bra but she quickly pulls away. 

You sit back down, much closer to Ellie than you had been before. Your eyes flicker between the way she is staring at you and the smile she’s failing to hide. Ellie slowly leans forwards until your noses are about to touch. You close your eyes, expecting her to kiss you, but you feel her tuck your hair behind your ear instead. She grazes her fingertips over your neck as she slides her hand around the back of it so she can pull you in. Her other arm, which feels as strong as it looks, wraps around your waist. Ellie kisses you gently at first, allowing the two of you to fall in sync with each other. But her hand creeps up and her fingers tangle in your hair. Her kisses are growing hungrier for you. You can’t get enough of her either so your hands wander over her body. One of your hands grips her upper thigh and she moans into your mouth. 

Ellie pulls away from you and smirks before laying you on your back with great care. Her tenderness continues to surprise you, so you expect her to continue kissing you roughly. 

Instead, she takes a moment to look over you with her dazzling green eyes. “You are… so beautiful.”

You don’t want to ruin the moment, but you can’t help but ask “is that why you bothered me, like a little kid does when they have a crush?”

Ellie’s soft disposition doesn’t falter, even for a moment. “I guess so. Never seen a girl like you in real life before. Had no idea what to do.”

Your breath hitches. This steamy encounter and that’s what gets you? Just goes to show how you had truly misjudged Ellie Williams. 

“I… uh…” you are really at a loss for words.

Ellie leans in, her lips almost touch your ear. You can feel her warm breath when she whispers “you don’t have to say anything pretty girl.” She starts placing soft kisses on your neck and you moan a little. You feel her chuckle against your skin, clearly pleased with herself. 

After leaving you wanting more, Ellie’s face hovers over yours and she tilts your head up by your chin and places one, seemingly shy, kiss on your lips before sitting back on her knees.

“We should stop.” Ellie sighs.

“Why?” You question, longing for more of her.

“I want to do this the right way. I respect you too much not to. I want to take you out on a date. Get to know you. I want you to know the real me. I’m really hoping something could happen between us, I don’t want to jeopardize that. That is if you are willing to give me, us, a chance.”

You sit up and cup her cheek in your hand. “Alright Williams. I’ll go home now, and you can come to my place tomorrow at 7 and pick me up for our first date.”

Ellie giggles, something you didn’t think you’d ever see her do. “Promise this will be the best date of your life.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us ellie #tlou ellie #ellie x you