#i promise i will write a less angsty one soon!

[forever-rogue]

hey honey! I hope you're having a good week 🫶 if your request are open, I have this little idea that I want to share with you (if not, you can ignore it and sorry to bother you). this could be with either Steve Harrington or Eddie Munson because I love how you write for them. so maybe you have a friends with benefit type of relationship that lately has been more romantic (less sex, and more let's take care about each other) and, obviously, you end up falling in love because you've always had a crush and this just made it worse. and because life is short, you decide to confess your feelings but in the moment you're gonna do it, he has something to say too. so you start saying how you are in love but he interrumpes you in that moment and he's like "hey! that's great because I'm seeing this girl and I think I like her so we should end with this" and you end heartbroken not only because it's not reciprocated it but because it also felt like he was leading you when in reality he was seeing another girl already. I know, it's really angsty this but I love angst and if you decide to give it a happy ending too, I will love it 🥺💖

thank you love, hope you have a nice weekend ❤

AN | I am a sucker for a love confession so here we are. It has a happy ending 🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why are you looking at me like that?” your cheeks warmed up as you tried to hide your face in his pillow.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered in turn, reaching over and gently brushing a few rogue bits of hair out of your face, “so beautiful.”

“Stevie,” you always felt like he could see right down into your soul with those honey caramel eyes, “stop.”

“Why?” there was a soft whimsy to his question that caused you to playfully roll your eyes, “come on, angel. Tell me.”

“You’re being too…sweet,” you tried to shrug him off as he put his hand on your cheek, “one might almost think you…”

“That I what?” you swallowed thickly at his innocent question. You didn’t know if he really was that naive or if he was playing dumb, “hmm?”

“That you have feelings for me.”

“I do,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “you’re my best friend. I love you.”

Not how I love you. You wanted to say, but you swallowed it back down. Instead, you rolled on your back and pulled the sheet over your bare chest. A sigh escaped your lips despite your best efforts. 

“I know,” was all you managed to get out without giving too much of yourself away. 

“Angel-”

“I’m tired,” you whispered into the dark, “let’s just go to sleep.”

He was quiet for a few moments before you felt him shuffle behind you. You felt him wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his warm body. Despite your best efforts you melded into him.

Soon, you promised yourself, soon you would tell Steve exactly how you felt. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could lie and say you weren't quite sure when your situationship with Steve started but that would be a lie. You remembered the precise moment you went from best friends to best friends with benefits. 

It was at some party for a friend of a friend and the two of you had gone for some fun…and free drinks. You'd both gotten a little tipsy and it had been a while since either of you had gotten any action and so…you'd kissed and then had sex.

When coming to your senses the next day, neither of you truly regretted it. It was - if you were being completely honest - the best sex of your life. And because of that, the two of you didn't see a reason not to hook up again. 

So you did; happily and regularly. Despite your best efforts, you kept holding onto the hope something would change. Something would prompt him to want to make this official. You thought that maybe he felt the same way about you. You knew he loved you, that was never a secret. But you wanted to know if he loved you as more than a best friend.

You could have asked. You should have asked but you never worked yourself up to it. Instead you let things keep going as they were, hoping that something would happen. Maybe the universe would divine something into fruition.

But it became increasingly hard to hold back your feelings. You should have just ended things or came out and told him the entire truth but it was impossible. You couldn't quit Steve…you didn't want to. 

Steve, however, was smarter than most people ever assume. He could see that something was different - off. Whenever he'd try to bring up the subject and get to the root of what was going on, you switched the subject. 

"Here ya go," Steve held out your ice cream cone, a smile on his face, “your favorites.”

“Thanks,” you took the cone from him with a small, forced smile. His own pretty smile faltered for a moment as you ate some of your ice cream, “it’s really good.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly and offered him a shrug in response. You knew that he meant well and this was all because he cared but it didn’t make it any easier, “you’ve been so down lately. Talk to me, angel. Please.”

“Stevie,” you hesitated for a moment; you hated seeing the sad look on his face. You wanted him to be happy - it was what he deserved. You reached for his hand and put yours on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze, “nothing is wrong, love. I’m just…I haven’t been feeling great. That’s all.”

“Okay,” he flipped your hand over so he was holding yours. His touch was so gentle and reverent. You knew he could tell you were lying, but the thing about him was that he never pushed. He knew that you trusted him and would eventually go to him, “you know that you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you promised him, “you’re the one person I trust more than anything. You’re the most important person in my life, Steve.”

“Funny,” he teased softly  that almost brought a little smile to your face, “you’re the same to me. You’re the best thing in the world.”

“Steve.”

“I mean it,” he reached over and brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “I love you.”

And that was the most wonderful and hardest thing to hear, because you knew he meant it.

Just not in that way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Baby, baby, baby,” you sighed softly as Steve trailed his lips along your jaw and down your neck. He was softly nipping at the skin, leaving behind a lavender haze of soft bruises, “you’re so soft. So fuckin’ soft.”

“Steve,” you wanted him to stop but your body and heart were wanting him to keep going. You ran a hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He was slowly pushing up your dress, deft fingers dancing along your thighs. He paused for a moment before kissing along your collarbones and the tops of your breasts. His gentle touch caused you to inhale softly.

“I love when you make all those pretty sounds,” he nuzzled his face into your neck, overwhelming all of your senses, “you are everything to me.”

You tensed up for a moment before putting your hands on his shoulders and shaking your head. Steve stopped immediately and pulled back, looking at you in concern, “stop, please. I…I’m sorry.”

“Is everything okay?” his eyes were wide with concern as he pulled himself off you completely and sat down next to you. You felt tears welling up but tried to blink them back, “angel…”

“I just…I don’t want to do this,” you pointed between your bodies, “not today. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted sweetly, “you never have to apologize for anything like that. It’s not an issue. Do you want to just watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, I think I should go home,” you pulled your dress down and shuffled off his bed. He nodded in response before handing you your sweater. You took it, hugging it to your chest as you inhaled the smell of him from it, “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Call me when you get home, okay?” he asked quietly as you nodded in response, “and be careful.”

“Always,” you promised before turning to leave his bedroom. You paused in the hallway for a moment, hesitating on whether to just leave or go back. After a few beats you left his apartment to go home. You missed him already. 

Steve had to battle between coming after you or letting you go. He knew something was wrong and he just wanted to fix it. He would do anything for you…he hoped you knew that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You separated yourself from Steve for a few days, trying to figure yourself out. It was hard but if you were ever going to move past the current situation something had to change.

The only real solution, you had finally come to terms with, was telling him how you really felt. It was going to be harder but it was going to be even harder if you never said anything at all.

The next time Steve picked you up for your normal Friday night hangout, you were ready. As ready as you ever would be. 

"Hey angel," Steve wrapped you up in a hug without hesitation and you allowed yourself to melt into his arms, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Stevie," you whispered as you took a moment to breathe him in. You pulled back and found him looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile. 

"I have something to tell you-"

The two of you spoke at the same time, always so in sync. You couldn't help but laugh lightly. You gave his arm a light squeeze and motioned for him to go first.

"So," he looked excited as your heart beat wildly in your chest. Was this finally it? Were you going to have your magic movie moment finally? He looked at his feet for a moment, stifling his smile, "do you remember Amber? The receptionist at my old job?"

"Yeah…" your heart was definitely going to burst out of your chest.

"She called me up the other day and asked if I wanted to go out with her," he looked almost shy as all you could do was stare at him, "so I figured why not? We're going out tomorrow."

"Oh," you felt your heart break as you blinked back your tears, "oh."

"Yeah," he nodded, trying to read your expression, "I was thinking too that maybe we should stop sleeping together. Just if we want to start dating people it might be best if we stop. But - what were you going to say?"

"Me?" you swallowed thickly, brain buzzing and heart in your stomach. You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to figure out how to possibly tell him you were in love with him when he clearly wasn't interested in you that way. You were just a best friend and a warm body, "umm…nothing. Nothing important at all."

"Are you sure? It looked like it was something big-"

"No," you shook your head and took a step back from him, "I forgot but umm, I actually have a thing so I can't hang out tonight. I'm so sorry, I just remembered."

"What? But we always-"

"I'm sorry, Stevie," you turned around before he could say anything else. He was almost positive that you had some tears in your eyes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After Steve broke your heart - unintentionally - you avoided him. Flat out avoided him and didn’t even make an attempt  to hide that little fact. He called, and came by, and even stopped by your work, but never managed to get a hold of you. It was starting to kill him slowly. He needed to know what was wrong, he wanted to fix it and make it all better. You were the best and biggest part of his life and you were just gone. He wasn’t sure if he could survive without you. 

Neither of you could live without the other. That was obvious to everyone. 

It was a few weeks later that Steve finally managed to track you down. He’d been waiting outside of your office, watching in anticipation for you to come out. It probably wasn’t the best idea but he didn’t care. He couldn’t be without you any more.

As soon as he saw you coming down the steps, he jumped out of his car and ran over you, calling your name at the top of his lungs, a desperate and hurried sound. You stopped dead in tracks and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Steve?”

“Hey - hi,” he stopped in front of you, a nervous expression on his face. 

“W-what are you doing here?” butterflies were already fluttering around in your tummy like crazy. 

“You,” he stated simply, “I had to see you. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Oh,” that alone was enough to make your heart thaw just a little bit, “Stevie-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you quickly, “I know I should let you talk but I don’t want another excuse for why I have seen you. All I could think about these last couple of weeks was you. And I think…I think I know what happened.”

“Oh?” your face warmed as you squealed at him, “I….Steve.”

“Are you in love with me?” he didn’t waste any time getting right to the point and it was the most wonderful and scariest moment of your life, “because I’m in love with you.”

You could have given him so many different answers, played this off in various ways but you were done. Done with running from him and ignoring what was right in front of you. Swallowing thickly, you nodded at him, “yes. I’m in love with you.”

He took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek. He smiled at you, fully and sweetly, which you couldn’t help but return. Suddenly it felt like things were really and truly falling into place. 

“May I?” he asked softly and you knew exactly what he meant. You answered his question by leaning in and kissing him softly. If there was ever a magic movie moment, this was it. You’d kissed him many times by now, but it was never like this before. 

When you pulled back, he sighed softly and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’ve been wanting to say that for so long now.”

“Me too,” you confessed softly, “I just got scared every time. And I was sure you’d never feel the same.”

“Really?” he laughed softly, “here I was thinking I was being so obvious all this time. I should have tried harder, huh?”

“I thought you were being obvious but I talked myself out of it,” you admitted as you touched his face, “I never thought you’d love me like I’ve always loved you.”

“I always have,” he promised, “and I always will.”

“Do you really promise?” you felt a few tears run down your cheeks and Steve didn’t hesitate to wipe them away.

“I swear it on my life,” he peppered your face in kisses, “forever. I love you.”

“I love you,” a wistful little sigh escaped your lips as you melted into him, “forever.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #st

[vintagepascal]

I have an angsty/fluffy request!!!!! I feel like P has been getting more annoyed with the paps lately and I feel like if they stressed out his love he would get so po'ed, so maybe something about him getting mad or anxious about it (thats the angst), and reader comforting him and then some type of fluffy ending? I don't know if that makes sense but I think it's a fun concept. Ty if you decide to write it!!

LETHAL

AN - thanks so much for requesting love! hope this does it justice :) I used the inspo from that article where Pedro says his protective side is lethal hehe

word count - 3,200

rating - mature

content warnings - angst, no smut, fluffy ending, paparazzi involvement, slight catcalling, but literally the sappiest shit you've ever read how tf did I even conjure this shit oh my god

summary - pedro just wants to take his girl out for a nice date night, but someone at the restaurant sells you out

----------------------------------------------------------------------

No one was supposed to know. The two of you had done everything right - called ahead with specific instructions but not given your real names, gone at non peak times, asked for a private table in the back of the restaurant away from the windows, taken your car instead of Pedro’s because it was less recognizable. And still, as Pedro scribbled his signature at the bottom of the receipt, you cautioned a look outside and you realized that what you suspected was true as yet another car pulled up to the curb. 

“Pedrito,” you used your softest voice, reaching across the white tablecloth for his hand. He wrapped your fingers up in his automatically, eyes finding yours. The sparkle in them dulled when he saw the look on your face. “We should probably go.”

“You haven’t finished your wine, amor.” His voice was tight, and you saw him crane his neck to get a view of outside for the first time, though he didn’t have a clear view like you did. It wasn’t hard to guess why you were ready to end an otherwise perfect date night early.

“That’s okay, we have more at home,” you smiled, moving your napkin nicely off your lap and onto the table. The first flash of a bulb went off and you swallowed hard. At the table to your left, you saw your favorite security guard, Mateo, stand up. 

“Time to go,” was all he said. 

You saw Pedro’s hand ball up into a fist, and he sucked in a breath between his teeth. 

“No one was supposed to know we were here. Someone must have tipped them off.” 

You reached for his hand, smiling when he opened up and offered you his fingers to lace your own through. 

“It’s alright.”

“It’s really not,” he countered. You knew he was at his wits end, considering the paps had managed to find him every day this week. He didn’t have much choice since he had to go to the gym each day for training, but he’d begged you to stay in the house as much as you could so they’d leave you alone with the promise of a nice date night on Friday to make up for it. 

“Hey.” You ran a thumb across his cheek quickly, hoping no one had a zoom lens where they could find you somehow. “Let’s just get home, yeah? It’s gonna be fine.” He looked down at you, some of the stone softening in his eyes as he did. He squeezed your hand twice before looking over at Mateo who dutifully began to walk forward. It wasn’t lost on you that he stood in front of you rather than Pedro. 

It was more than you anticipated. As soon as the front door opened you were practically blinded, flash after flash going off. You wove your arm around Pedro’s bicep, trusting him to guide you in the direction the car was in. You walked as quickly as you could in your heels, only slowing slightly when you realized your dress was starting to ride up your thighs a bit. 

You could barely make out most of the words that were being yelled at you, but one voice stood out above the rest of the frenzy.

“Nice legs sexy, let us see em!”

And you weren’t the only one who heard.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Pedro turned, and he would have stopped walking if Mateo’s strong grip on his shoulder hadn’t kept him moving towards the car. 

“Get in the car Pedro,” he said matter of factly, opening the door. Pedro waited for you to slide across the backseat first, blocking the opening just in case your maneuvering revealed anything you didn’t want on display.

“I want his name,” Pedro demanded.

“In the car,” Mateo repeated, shaking his head. Pedro looked at you quickly, saw that you were tucked back into the seat as far as you could be and felt his chest tighten. It didn’t matter then, all he needed was to be closer to you. He ducked in and the door shut behind him.

Mateo was quick to circle around to the driver's seat and you were on the road almost immediately, the crowd already scattering behind you in search of their next victim for the evening. 

“Fucking assholes,” Pedro growled, eyes trained out the back windshield for only a moment before he turned to you. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” It couldn’t have taken more than 30 seconds for you all to get to the car, but your pulse was racing and your ears were ringing and despite your best efforts, your eyes were watering just slightly from the adrenaline. You fought it and won, determined not to cry and add any more fuel to Pedro’s fire. Very little made him mad, but when you were mistreated, there were no bounds he wouldn’t cross. 

“Are you sure?” He found your hand against the leather, eyes hardening when he felt how clammy it was and realized you were hiding how upset you actually were.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, trying to play it off. “That was just a lot.”

“I’m sorry, so so sorry.” His voice was small again. 

“Don’t apologize for them, amor. You didn’t ask for that, it’s not your fault,” you reminded him, lifting his hand up to your lips and kissing his knuckles softly. This wasn’t a new conversation.

“You wouldn’t have to deal with any of that if you weren’t with-“

“Pedro, stop. You know I don’t care about the pictures.”

“The fucking nerve of that guy to say that shit to you…” You could feel the anger roll off him in waves.

“It’s not the first time I’ve heard some shit like that, it’s not the last-”

“And that makes it okay? That’s supposed to make me feel better about it?” He looked at you, exasperated, and somewhat confused that you weren’t as upset as he was. 

“No, of course it’s not okay, but I can handle it. I’m fine.”

You saw him open his mouth again to argue and you knew it would be futile, so you used your last line of defense. You leaned over and kissed him, bracing your hand on his thigh and molding your lips to his. Of course he kissed you back - he’d never had that much self control, but his lips were unrelenting at first, words unsaid keeping his mind racing and away from you. 

“I’m okay Pedrito,” you murmured, kissing along his jaw, smiling when your lips found the smooth heart shaped gap in his beard. “I’m safe, I’m happy, I’m here with you.” 

Your words pulled him back a fraction, your lips helping his jaw to unlock from where he had it clenched. He ran a warm hand along your thigh, trying to ground himself. 

“Bésame,” you asked. His eyes softened - something about you speaking Spanish always got to him and he obliged you, leaning over to kiss you sweetly. He cupped your face gently, getting lost in you for a few minutes of the drive until you were both satisfied. You settled afterwards, with your head on his shoulder, smiling each time he pressed a kiss to your forehead or your hair. 

But you could still feel the tension in his posture, see it in the way he led you into the house when Mateo parked the car, and you knew the storm hadn’t passed. So it wasn’t a total surprise that Pedro stopped in the living room instead of following his usual path to the bedroom. 

“Hey,” you tried. “I’m going to go change, are you coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” You watched him pull his phone out of his pocket, mind already on his next task. You didn’t push it - his heart was in the right place. Always the protector. And so you went about your evening, changing out of your dress (though it would have been easier with Pedro there to help with the zipper) and into a cute matching pj set, perching in bed and waiting. 

And waiting. And waiting. 

Your patience waned after 15 minutes, and you peeked your head out of the bedroom doorway, only barely able to make out the outline of your boyfriend standing on the living room balcony, the sliding door half open and his agitated voice flowing in. 

You settled yourself with a deep breath and moved back into your room, then to the bathroom and over to the clawfoot tub, starting up a bath. When all else failed, you always turned to water. You took your time doctoring it up with all your favorite products until the bathroom resembled a bit of a spa. The only thing missing then was Pedro. 

So you went in search of him, again unsurprised to see him still on the phone. You caught the tail end of his conversation as you pushed the sliding door out of your way. 

“- had to be someone there… Yes, I can respect that you don’t think it was, but I am very respectfully informing you that you’re fucking wrong. Someone within that building sold us out to the paps, and you’re going to figure out who it was, so I can figure out who the hell was outside harassing my girlfriend and who the fuck they work for.”

You slid your hand up Pedro’s back as a way of announcing your presence, coming around to his side and ducking under his arm that was braced against the railing. You wedged yourself between him and the metal, facing him with a smile that he briefly returned, phone still pressed to his ear. With a wiggle of your fingers you motioned for him to hand it to you, your other hand resting on his hip. 

With a small sigh he gave in, passing you his phone. You could hear the restaurant manager babbling and you muted the mic for a moment so you could speak freely.

“I’ll be right there expired a while ago amor,” you teased.

“I’m sorry baby, I just-”

“Don’t let that dick steal any more of our night. We’re okay. I’m okay. I’m safe, I’m happy, I’m here with you,” you repeated your words from earlier, getting up on your tiptoes to brush your nose against his. His resolve was fading, but there was still a dull fire in his eyes, aching to defend you.

“We don’t get enough time like this as it is, let’s enjoy it, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him only once before checking to see. As expected, it worked, and your Pedro was back, all traces of his anger gone from his face. He took his phone back, hanging up without another thought and slipping it away into his pocket.

“Sorry cariño, I got carried away.”

“Apology accepted in the form of you, in the bathtub with wine in the next two minutes,” you grinned, kissing him again and ducking under his arm before disappearing to the bathroom. 

He didn’t disappoint. You had barely stripped and sunk into the water when he returned, two glasses in one hand with a bottle of wine in an ice bucket in the other. 

“Looks like I missed the show,” he teased, looking down at your pile of clothes on the floor. 

“That’s what happens when you’re late. But hey, I’m in my seat and ready for the next act.”

That got a chuckle out of him, paired with a blush that warmed your heart. He took care of you first, pouring two glasses of wine and passing one to you before he got to work taking off his dinner clothes.

You attempted to dog whistle for him, which only ended in you breathing aggressively on your two fingers with a bit of spit ending up in the bathtub, and Pedro giving you a look of pity before you were both laughing. 

“I’ve really got to teach you how to do that love.”

“Oh shut up and get in here.”

You offered him a hand, scooting up so he could settle in behind you. As soon as he was in the water he was guiding you back to lean on his chest, arms coiling around you to hold you to him as he kissed your temple. 

“Does this mean we’re never going to that restaurant again? Cause my capellini was really good,” you ran your fingers up and down his arm that crossed your chest. 

He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “I can make you good capellini.”

You leaned to the side until you could look back at him, quirking an eyebrow. 

“I… can hire you a chef to make you good capellini,” he grinned sheepishly, laughing as he held you against his chest. You relished in the sound as it echoed off the tiles, kissing his skin. 

“I’m kidding baby, we don’t have to go back,” you reassured him. Deciding you’d spent long enough unable to see his face, you maneuvered so you were next to him instead, resting your cheek on his chest with your legs intertwined under the bubbles. It was blissful, and you only sat up to sip your wine or kiss him. 

You enjoyed the silence and soft kisses, light traces of each other’s skin under the water through your first glass, but your tongue loosened up by the second one. 

“Can I ask you something kinda serious?”

“Anything amor,” he hummed, interest piqued.

“Would you ever trade it? The fame, for getting your privacy back?”

“If you’d asked me that before I met you, I would have said no. But I think the answer now might be yes.”

You pushed up off his chest so you could see his eyes, waiting for him to explain. 

“It comes with my job, and my job is all I ever wanted. It’s been my dream since I can remember. I worked my whole life for it, and somewhere deep down I always knew that there were downsides that would come with it if I ever made it big. You hear the horror stories of the crazy people, the stalkers, the paparazzi. And when you’re just trying to make it, it almost makes you jealous in a way. It’s like ‘damn, well if anybody gave a fuck about who I was maybe I’d have to worry about that’. And then you get your break-”

“And people are asking to put their thumbs on your eyeballs in the streets of NYC,” you grin.

“Yeah, yeah exactly. But when it was just me, I could always stomach it because it was also a reminder of like ‘hey, you made it. This is happening because you made it into the big leagues’, you know? But it’s not a fun or glamorous part of it. And now it’s affecting the people I love, and I can’t do normal fucking things, like take you out on a normal date night without us getting swarmed. And you deserve that. You deserve to get your capellini in peace, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to give you that, because that part of my life is always going to be there.”

The sadness on his face brought tears to your eyes, and you turned his face to look at you.

“You’re worth it Pedro.” 

The sadness didn’t budge.

“I mean it,” you continued. “You’re worth all of it. You’re worth more.”

The next kiss was deeper. His lips caught yours with a new appreciation, his teeth catching your bottom lip making your breath freeze in your chest. His arms moved under the water, shifting your body around until you were straddling his thighs, your elbows braced on his shoulders, fingers in his wet hair. 

When you finally broke free to catch your breath, he was looking up at you as if you’d hung the moon. 

“I need you to remind me of that. On the bad days,” he whispered. It wasn’t often that he asked you for reassurances, and the entire premise of it made you melt. 

“Of course baby. Of course I will. You’re always going to be worth it to me, because I love you.” 

“I love you more.”

You shook your head at that, folding down to rest your head on his shoulder. He traced his finger over your spine, back and forth slowly as he kissed your skin. 

“You know, we don’t have to stay in LA when you aren’t filming,” you mused after a few minutes.

“Where would you want to go love? I’ll take you wherever you like.”

“No, I don’t mean a vacation. I mean, we’re in the worst city for privacy in the world. Even New York is better than here, and we already have your place there.” 

He pondered it for a moment, twirling a piece of your hair in his fingers. “I wouldn’t mind spending more time in New York. Don’t know that it would solve our paparazzi problem though, they’re still pretty bad there.”

“Then we could go even further. Not long term, but I mean hell. Oscar has that second house in Hawaii he always offers to us, you know he’d let us stay. Or we could go to Chile, see your family.” 

“Chile? You’d go to Chile?”

“Why not?” You asked. “I mean, I don’t know that I’d want to move that far away, but of course I’d love to go for longer than just the few days we got to go last time.”

“You’d do that for me?” 

You weren’t sure if it was the wine, or the pure bewilderment on his face, or maybe the realization that he just couldn’t fathom how much you truly loved him, but you began to laugh. 

“What do I have to do to get it through that brain of yours hmm?” 

“You’re worth it-” you punctuated it with a kiss before you continued. “I love you-” another. “I’d do anything for you.” He was smiling then, leaning up to meet you. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

“Yeah?” He murmured against your lips, chasing you in a bid to kiss you longer. 

“I’d marry you tomorrow if you asked.” The words stumbled off your tongue before you could stop them, but you didn’t care, you were too wine drunk and in love to think about them.

Pedro caught them though, kissing you again with a smile and waiting for you to lean back. 

“Tomorrow huh?” 

You blushed as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well in that case I need to call the jeweler and see if they’re still open this late.” He dramatically pretended to check his watch, making you roll your eyes at his antics.

“Ah yes, nothing like a Friday night ring shopping escapade.”

“Who says I still need to shop? I bet they’d let me pick it up, it should be done.” 

You felt your mouth drop open, but you couldn’t quite find the muscles to close it. Pedro kept his smug smile for a moment, basking in it as he reached up with his finger on your chin. 

“You’re worth it,” he returned your words, leaning up to kiss you again. “I’d do anything for the future Mrs. Balmaceda Pascal.”

#my writing #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal writing

[poraphia]

hahahaha angsty idea. Reader vigilante reveal but this time siren is furious. He starts fighting the reader— but they don’t fight back. They don’t move a single muscle as he pushes them into a wall. They sit there, and accept it

i just wanna mention i love writing for these little prompts they're like little warm ups for me hehesheehe

---

A vigilante and a supervillain.

One minute, they watched the moon rise with the stars. Their fingers near centimeters apart as they rested against the textured stone.

The next minute, screaming and loud thuds echoed through the night, yet not a single soul dared to approach the pair.

The vigilante fell back, their body sliding against the cold granite. Bits and pieces of their outfit tore from the friction. Siren stood a meter away, but his shadow engulfed them like flames. Tears stained his blindfold as he was forced into a blurry haze. His head throbbed, but it was nowhere near close to how hard his heart pounded in his chest.

"YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR, (Y/N)! A GOD DAMN LIAR." He screamed in agony. Slowly, he stepped toward the limp figure. A figure so weak they coughed out blood as their head rested against an arm.

"Get up."

With his honey voice, the vigilante was forced back onto their feet.

"Look at me."

Their head whipped up. Tears and blood trickled down their face. Their body was scratched, damaged, and bruised, but Siren, you couldn't find a single imperfection on his body.

Siren pushed them against the wall of the fire escape. The same location where they had their first encounter. The same location where (y/n) decided to take Siren's heart before shoving it in a grinder. He slammed his hands on either side of their face, digging his palms into the tiny rocks that nearly pierced his skin.

But he didn't care.

No, he couldn't care less.

Siren stood there, near breathing down the vigilante's neck, while all they could do was stand there and take it. His heaving chset was consistent with rage. An audible and visual show to his confliction. He stood there, silent for a minute. (y/n) dare refused to say anything because they knew that any word, no matter how wrong or how right it was, would ruin the man even more.

After some time gathering his own words, Siren took one deep exhale before ripping off his blindfold, revealing puffy and horribly glossy eyes. His eyes searched their face, searching for any sign to tell him to cut this shit out, but instead, it filled him more with rage and sorrow.

"I... I fucking loved you." He choked. "I loved you before we started talking. I loved you when we were running around being silly teenagers."

Siren forced both his hands back on either side of their head. "I loved you EVEN WHEN YOU WENT MISSING FOR YEARS BECAUSE I HAD SOME TYPE OF HOPE." (y/n) remained speechless and only stared back with the most pained expression on their face.

"AND TO THINK--!" Siren backed away now, running a hand through his hair as nothing but manic chuckles escaped his throat. "To think that I was finally getting over you?! That I had found someone new," He whipped his head back to face them. "THAT I CAN FINALLY HEAL, (Y/N)."

Chuckles turned into giggles, giggles turned into laughs, laughs turned to harrowing cries of pain as he crouched down onto the ground, hugging his knees.

He had fucking lost it now.

Siren's noises of distress soon died down. He stood up straight again, staring straight through the vigilante.

"I'm going to make sure you are never in my life again." He uttered softly.

"They don't call me a super villain for nothing."

(y/n) nodded, closing their eyes. If this was the relief Will wanted, and if this promised him to be happier in the future, then by all means, he could do whatever they wanted to them.

"(y/n)," His cold, icy stare pierced through their heart like an icicle. "jump o--"

"WI- SIREN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #clinic!wilbur x reader #clinic!wilbur #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 tags #fanfiction requests #poraphiainbox #will gold #wilbur soot angst #im feeling a lil angsty #angsty wilbur hehe #angst

[aniesvision]

hii anie, I hope you're doing well! 🙏🏻 can I request a johnnie fic where they're going out with friends after a huge fight, the others notice that something is off bc they are different with one another and it's just very angsty but also fluffy? 💞

Other girls (Johnnie G. x f! reader)

warnings: angst, suggestive jokes, crying, drinking, jealousy, I guess that's all!

a/n: heyy, I'm so happy to write my first request, and I just loved the idea!! thank you for sending it, I hope it's good enough 💕 just remembering that english is not my first language so if anything's wrong please correct me 💜

synopsis: basically the request!

🪻🪻🪻

-Are you fucking serious? -I ask, standing from the couch and making my way to his room.

-I said I'm sorry!

Johnnie follows me, watching as I gather my stuff. I was pissed. I've been working hard this last few days and didn't realize spending some days away would result in him talking to another girl non stop to fill the emptiness of my absence. But, he didn't stop talking to her even now that I'm literally right in front of him. I'm not the jealous type, and I know mostly all people he talks to is about business, but I can't deny it stings a little to see him ignoring me to be on his phone talking to another girl.

I don't even respond his apologies, my focus is on getting out of his house and going back to mine. He's just standing by the door, processing what was happening, knowing that arguing with me when I'm like this is the worst the could do. After successfully gathering all my stuff, I give him a look and pass through him straight to the front door.

-We can talk about it later. -I say, in a serious tone, before leaving.

I drive back to my house, collapsing on my bed as soon as I see it. I didn't want to cry, but I was so mad that the tears were inevitable. I knew from the start that being with Johnnie was going to be difficult. He's famous, he's always busy, he's always with girls around and they're all so beautiful, it's so hard not to compare myself. It's so hard to believe that he wants to be with me sometimes, and it hurts me to know that maybe seeing him so entertained talking to someone else might be the beginning of the end.

I waited until the tears stopped to try and talk to him about it. I wanted to feel a little less angry to avoid making things worse. When I pick up my phone, he was already calling me. I sigh, sitting down and wiping the rest of my tears before answering.

-Hello?

-I'm coming over, we don't need to talk, but you promised you'd be there with me and they're all waiting for you.

I furrow my eyebrows, confused, his tone was low and it was clear that he was upset.

-What?

-Jake's birthday. Tonight's Jake's birthday.

My eyes widen when I realize I totally forgot about it. I stand up, one hand holding the phone against my ear and the other searching for an outfit.

-Yeah, sorry, I forgot, I'm getting ready.

I can hear him sighning on the other line, witch makes me even more upset about forgetting it.

-Right. I'll be there in 20.

He hangs up before I could say anything else. I put my phone on my nightstand and focus on getting ready for the night. Deciding on a mini black skirt with some belts and a red and black crop top, I start to decorate my body with some accessories and big black boots to finish the look. Already on my bathroom, I clean my face and try to do some makeup that covered the sadness of my face. I opted to do a simple sharp eyeliner, mascara and some red lipgloss.

After making sure I was ready, I waited for Johnnie. He knocks on my front door a few minutes later and I walk straight to it, meeting him. He didn't even smile, just looked at me up and down and carefully guided me with him to the car. It was awkward and not even the music playing helped me to relax.

As soon as we get there, Johnnie gets out of the car and I do the same, just mimicking his actions. He didn't grab my hand, or wrapped an arm around my waist, nothing. We walk side by side, like we're just friends, and get in the party. I see Jake and Tara and point at their direction so Johnnie would know where I'm going, and he follows me.

Tara is quick to know something's up and immediately hug me, whispering in my ear so the guys wouldn't hear us.

-Hey, what's up?

I give her a small sad smile and she just nods, grabbing my hand and announcing that we were gonna get some shots. She guides me to the bar, asking for two tequilas.

-What's wrong? Wanna talk about it?

She asks, handing me one of the tequilas. We drink it and I shake my head a bit with the feeling of the alcohol burning my throat.

-We had a fight. He's been talking to a girl and I've been a bit distant, but today we were supposed to spend the day together and all he did was stay on his phone talking to someone else.

I explain, sighning and leaning against a wall nearby. Tara nods, rubbing my arm carefully.

-I'm sorry to hear it, babe. But try to talk to him, maybe it's just a misunderstanding.

She hands me a beer that I'm not even sure where it came from, but I accept it, nodding to her advice.

-Yeah, I'll try. Thanks.

She hugs me again, disappearing right after. I drink a few sips of my drink, looking around and trying to find Johnnie. When my eyes finally meet his, he was on the other side of the room, with Jake and two strange girls. I take a deep breath, standing in my place, just watching it from afar. Is it worth it? Is it worth all the pain and insecurity that this relationship gives me? Is he ever going to prefer me?

-What's a girl like you doing all alone here?

I hear a man's voice and I turn my head to look who it was. I've never seen this man before in my life, and I was definitely not interested. Not just because he was a random guy, but because I have a handsome boyfriend and even though we're not on good terms he's still the only one I want.

-I'm not alone, my boyfriend's right there.

I point at Johnnie, and the guy follows my finger, laughing when he sees it.

-Your boyfriend left you alone to be with other girls?

I sigh. Honestly, valid point. But it's complicated, I know it's not what it looks like, but it sucks that that's what it looks like to anyone. I need to talk to him, and this guy is just the perfect reason of why I hate to be on bad terms with Johnnie. With my lack of response, the guy continues.

-Maybe he's not fucking you right, huh?

I look at the guy with a disgusted face, rolling my eyes at him and starting to walk in Johnnie's direction. Not the time to deal with creepy randoms. I stop in front of Johnnie, giving a quick look and trying to be nice by smiling at the girls and Jake before meeting his eyes again.

-Can we talk?

For the first time I see a small smile on his lips and he nods. I guide him outside, standing by the garden and taking a deep breath. He starts talking before I do.

-I'm sorry.

I feel his hands interlocking with mine, making me relax immediately. He has such an effect on me, it's crazy.

-I just... feel like I'm not your girlfriend anymore sometimes.

My voice is low and shaky, he could see how upset I was, and I could see that this wasn't what he wanted for us. The guilt was evident.

-I know, I'm sorry, I was mad that you were always at work, so I tried to make you jealous and it didn't exactly work. The girl I was talking to was an actress to my next music video and those girls right there were just Jake's friends, I just want you, I promise.

He pulls me into a hug, making me smile. I fight the urge to cry and just hug him harder.

-I'm so sorry, I should've worked from home or something, I was so caught up on what I had to do. I'm sorry, I love you.

He pulls away and cup my cheeks with his hands, kissing my forehead gently.

-It's okay, we're good, I'm sorry too. I love you.

I smile, feeling finally relieved. It was definitely nothing that I was thinking about and the fact he wanted to make me jealous it's actually kinda funny. He pulls me into a soft kiss, making me melt into his touch.

-So, what did that guy said?

He asks, making me laugh and shake my head a bit.

-That you're probably not fucking me right.

I shrug, laughing at Johnnie's annoyed expression.

-We'll see if I fuck you right or not after the party.

My eyes widen and I feel my cheeks turning red. I push his arm playfully, rolling my eyes.

-Johnnie!

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie x reader #johnnie x you #fanfic #imagine #youtube #tara yummy #jake webber #jake and johnnie #request

[anjelicawrites]

To honor and protect

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader x Osferth and all the combinations thereof, I mean there’s three of them, so…

Synopsis: filling this prompt from anon (thank you!!!!) “hiii! so, I'm absolutely LOVING the aemond x reader x osferth fics and had a request of my own that I wanted to share for the pairing. kinda angsty, maybe so smut and good ol fluff too.I was wondering if you could do an aemond x reader x osferth fic where the 3 of them have been super comfortable about their relationship with each other. however, there's always those times in public where others like to ruin their fun. that happens one night while they're out and reader gets upset the most about it. osferth is the one to comfort her first and soon brings in aemond. the two of them tell reader that it doesn't matter what others think, they'll still love each other no matter what. they end up having a love session too. please? thank u”

Warnings: 18+ only please. Body shaming, doxxing, talk of bullying. Smut, lots of it. P in v sex, oral (f receiving), talk of blowjob, rough (ish) sex, overstimulation, dom!Osferth, sub!reader, service top!Aemond.

A/N: I am not sure this is what you wanted? I’ve let the muse roam free and that’s what I got so let me know!!!

A/N 2: it’s >7000 word. I am so sorry. One day I’ll learn how to write less, I promise!

You and your boys have hectic schedules and rarely have the chance to go out together. It doesn't help that you and Aemond are a bit reclusive and would rather spend time home chilling, than being out and about. Osferth is usually the one who has to convince the two of you to go out and you both love him too much to deny him this small happiness. 

Tonight, you all meet directly after work in front of this new, fancy restaurant freshly opened and that's all on Aemond: he wouldn't want to go to one of those pubs you and Osferth love so much, because he is classy like that. For your outings he wants only the best, he wants the pride of knowing that he had managed to book in a reservation in zero time, in a place where it takes weeks to obtain one, because he is Aemond fucking Targaryen, who will do anything for his lovers. You and Osferth would be happy anywhere: the fanciest place in town or a picnic in a small park, as long as Aemond is happy you both are. If flexing his muscles is a way he prefers to express his love for you two, neither you, nor Osferth would stop him, not after all the work he has been doing on himself and his self esteem.

The place is impressive and you feel a little out of place, even with Osferth by your side as you both wait for Aemond. From the outside you see big mirrors, warm lights and a huge amount of metal, the people going in just ooze money, you can smell how rich they are and you feel uncomfortable in your vintage clothing. You have always found Edwige Fenech and Florinda Bolkan, in those ‘70s gialli movies, style icons and started copying theirs and the other amazing actresses's dresses from the moment you had a paycheck to support yourself. You are, most of the time, proud of how you look, but you have to admit the amazing clothing you see on all these stylish people, makes you feel self - conscious and painfully aware that one of the dresses you see on any of these women, is worth your annual earnings. You think you should have made a pit-stop home to change into that Valentino dress Aemond gifted you for your first birthday you celebrated together, that was probably more appropriate than the suit and blouse you are wearing now. Are your boots too old? Is your make up ok?  

Almost on cue Osferth hugs you from behind and kisses your cheek, the smoky scent of his leather jacket is comforting as is his body heat

“You look ravishing, my love - he says - I might just steal you away on my bike and have my wicked way with you”

“You look dapper yourself - and he does, he manages to rock the hot youth pastor style and the leather jacket without effort - and your suggestion is enticing, but I fear Aemond might have killed someone to get us a table here. You can steal me away any other time, though!”

“I count on that”.

You bask into one another’s presence as you people watch the fancy businessmen and models entering the premise. You have always felt a bit out of place in Aemond's world, most of the time you try to approach it with the eyes of an anthropologist, but sometimes you feel like the odd one standing out. Tonight, you feel like your anthropologist goggles are harder to wear and you are not really sure why.

Osferth, on the other hand, has a fuck it attitude. On birth alone, he should have been one of those wealthy people, but his father had never stepped up and he had rather ignored his child out of wedlock. You know it is a complicated matter between the man you have never met and his lawful wedded wife and you are not sure how much his absence had been his own will, and how much his wife’s, the result is the same, though, Osferth suffers from this and his reaction is to double down on being himself and ignore those people's judgemental stares. He had chosen to forego the life his father had decided for him, sheltered and where Alfred didn’t risk meeting him, for a more complicated one, but where Osferth can be himself, with all his contradictions. 

Your reverie is interrupted by Aemond's arrival in his posh car. He gives the keys to the valet and smiles when he sees you and Osferth. Aemond is an extremely private person, the public doesn't know his face, since he has no social media and prefers to leave all the PR to his sister Rhaenyra and her gaggle of children. This permits him to enjoy the perks of being part of Targaryen Corp., minus the harassment from the press. The downside is that he doesn't do PDAs and is always a bit aloof in public, even when in your company. 

He saunters towards you and Osferth; he looks a bit tired around the edges and you muse that he might need this night out, just to break from his routine. When he gets to you, he kisses your hand like the gentleman his mother has raised him to be and hugs Osferth briefly. 

"Shall we go in? - you ask - it's a bit early"

"Drinks on me, raqiarzy, we celebrate" beloved in High Valyrian is one of his favorite pet names for you

"No dead and no injured today?" Osferth knows Aemond has had a big meeting with the stakeholders and was afraid of Rhaenyra's side of the family messing up

"None. Daemon has been his usual unpleasant self, but I haven't canceled to bake a Kek Lapis Sarawak, so I'd say we should celebrate". 

Aemond stress bakes and his whole family stresses him a lot. Usually, according to the amount of stuff he prepares, you can easily understand who has been a problem. When it's his uncle Daemon, he goes with the Kek Lapis Sarawak, which are extremely difficult to prepare and require all of his concentration. You and Osferth both love this kind of cake, but you would rather buy it than eat Aemond's, just because it means that Daemon has been terrible with him. 

You are having drinks while waiting for your table to be ready, sitting in a nestled corner where you can talk without being overly disturbed by the people walking by; you are sitting between your lovers, just chatting about your respective days at work. You are telling your boys about one of your student's outrageous translations of Herodotus, when you feel a sensation between your shoulder blades, as if someone is staring at you with intent; you glance at the big mirror behind the bar, but there's too many people chatting so you decide to ignore the weird feeling, even though it is persistent and it bothers you, forcing you to act more natural than you truly feel. It's between Osferth's recollection of a funny story concerning Uhtred's offspring and Aemond's telling of that one time Helaena scared one aunt with her collection of crawly friends, that you notice the sheer amount of beautiful girls casually bumping into your men, it is almost like the floor around your table is all potholes and those women feel the need to use your men's shoulders to keep their balance. Or are you being paranoid in this environment? 

Aemond's work phone rings and he has to excuse himself for a moment, he has been waiting for some important news from one of the international branches and has to leave you to get this call, it won't be a moment. 

The moment he is not by your side, you start hearing chatting coming from your right side, a little behind you: a group of beautiful women is sitting around a table, staring at you openly with aggression and hate. You hear easily how they are commenting on your body and your clothes; you recognise them as the girls using your boyfriends' shoulders for balance and you try to ignore them, talking a bit louder, hoping that between the general chatting and your voice, Osferth wouldn't hear their words. 

Aemond is still on the phone somewhere when Osferth excuses himself for a moment and you are swamped by these women’s hatred: how your hair is too frizzy, your figure too full, your clothes so out of fashion you must have raided your grandma's wardrobe and why are you with such handsome men? They were surely with you here out of pity, you must have pestered them that they must have felt obliged to be here with you, no wondering why they have already left you alone, they must have already gone home, what a fool you were to be sitting at the table, nursing your drink, waiting for two men far above your station who would never come back. And who has a date with two men? Are you that desperate? Or are you a whore like all ugly women are?

You have been bullied mercilessly from elementary well into high school and you have learnt how to build an armor around yourself to let awful comments slide. Most of the time it works; those are not the first women commenting on why two beautiful men such as Aemond and Osferth are with a normal looking woman like you and you usually laugh in their faces. The ugly truth of trauma, though, is that it might come back whenever you least expect it to be; just when you start believing you have healed the young girl you once were, these jabs seem to hit you where you still have unknown open wounds and you feel tears stinging in your eyes. You want to run to the bathroom when you feel Osferth's voice behind you

“My lovely lady here might not conform to your standards of beauty, but you are the ugliest women I have ever seen in my entire life. You might look beautiful on the outside, but you are hideous on the inside”.

He walks to you, his hands are on your shoulders, big and strong, but his voice is cold. You have never heard him be like this, your Osferth is sunshine, always and now he is a hailstorm, cold and destructive.

One of the women tries to retort but is stopped by Osferth’s words

“You work for a feminist publishing house and you go around belittling another woman. I bet this would make a great publicity stunt for your bosses”.

You see the color drain from her face, you want to say something but Osferth’s hands curl tighter on the meat of your shoulders and you keep silent.

“Mmmh, it is quite stupid to go around freely giving your phone numbers to complete strangers. In this day and age it is too easy to find out every information about someone using only that”.

Aemond appears out of nowhere behind those women, who jump out of their skins. This Aemond is also a stranger to you, cold and cruel as he reads off his phone all the personal information about them: names, addresses, marital status, job position and random information about their families. 

You know he can be ruthless, but you have never seen it happen in front of your eyes; even when he didn’t know you, he was aloof but never this cold, his voice had never dripped venom the way it does now. He is scary and imposing. Even the stare he exchanges with Osferth is foreign to you.

“We should have you on your knees, groveling for our beloved’s forgiveness, but you are undeserving even of that”.

Osferth? You want to ask, but you stay still, trying to recognise the compassionate man you fell in love with, in the emotionless voice coming from behind you; it’s the voice of someone who knows he can cause damage, both physical and psychological, and would act on this knowledge, if pushed. You never knew he could be like this and you wonder if the people he sometimes have to deal with at work, get to see only this side of him. 

“Go, before we make you” Osferth says matter of factly and the group just scampers away, one of the brunettes in tears.

As soon as the women are outside the big, glass doors, the cold spell enveloping your lovers breaks and you see your Osferth and Aemond revert back to the gentle people you know them to be.

Osferth’s hands leave your shoulders to grab your left hand in a concerned manner, his voice soft as he asks you how you are feeling. Aemond surprises you with a kiss on the crown of your head, him who has issues with expressing his affection in public

“I think I might need to go to the bathroom” you say with a shaky voice

“Raqiarzy…” Aemond starts to say, but you stop him with a hand on his chest

“I need to be alone for a moment, please my love” he lets you go, but his stare is weighted by his concern for you.

In the bathroom, you check that the stalls are free and you lock yourself in one to cry in peace. Those awful women’s words and the reaction from your lovers have rattled you; you know a good cry will help you and so you let the tears run freely down your cheeks until they stop on their own accord and you feel better, even though you know your next session with your psychologist will be a valley of tears, because of tonight.

Once you stop crying, you manage to salvage your makeup with the products you have in your bag and hope for the best. 

You don’t really feel like eating anything but you don’t want the comments of those awful women to taint the rest of your evening; your lovers have different plans though.

“Let’s go home” Aemond says the moment you reach him

“But the dinner?”

“I thought this place was worthy of your presence, I was wrong - he says with contempt - a restaurant like this should vet its clientele, not let anyone book  a table. The lack of manners of half of the patrons is not excusable”.

He has lost you at that. You have always thought that only one’s earnings were considered in a place like this: if you are poor you are out, if you are rich you are in, you never thought that not being an obnoxious asshole has ever factored.

“Let’s go” Osferth takes you hand and starts heading for the door

“Really baby, I am fine” you are not, not completely at least, but you don’t want to rain on your collective parade

“We’ll go somewhere else another day”

“And you are not ruining our night” Aemond whispers in your ear 

“You promise?”

"I swear. I want only the best for you and Osferth. This place is not the best" and with that he helps you with your coat. 

The sudden coldness of the night makes you shiver and huddle yourself closer to Osferth, who happily hugs you tight as you wait for yours and Aemond's car to be bought in by the valets, Aemond stands tall and proud in front of you, almost like a protector, ignoring the cold wind whipping your bodies.

When Aemond's fancy Mercedes arrives, he opens the passenger door for you

"I'm driving you home, raqiarzy. Give Osferth your car keys"

"But I can drive, my love, I am fine"

"I know you can - he lets out a soft mmh - but I want to drive you home". 

Your old jeep is waiting behind Aemond's car and the valets stare at you funnily. You decide to bend your stiff neck and give Osferth your keys. It's when you are already in the Mercedes that you ask, your head hanging out from the window 

"What about your bike?"

"It's light enough to strap on the back of your car, love. I'll see you home" his smile is tight and you know he is still angry; from the way Aemond clutches the steering wheel, he is still fuming himself, but keeping it under wraps for your sake. 

Aemond drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, possessively, the heating is at full blast for you, he usually runs too hot and rarely needs to turn it on. Even if angry, he drives with grace and doesn't get mad at the car cutting right in front of him; at the first red light you scoot closer to him and kiss his cheek

"Thank you. You shouldn't have done it though. They were nobodies, not worth your rage and I really don’t know why I let them hurt me so"

"Those nobodies insulted my dāria, my queen. I don't take that kindly. And you are still suffering, I can see that". 

You can hear the controlled rage in his voice, his stance rigid again; you caress his thigh to relax him

"How did you manage to know all about them?"

"Osferth's useless friends. The wonders Sihtric can do with only a handful of phone numbers and one internet connection". 

You put two and two together easily. Osferth had overheard the chitchat you had tried to drown and went looking for Aemond when he had left you alone. A chirurgical operation, so to say. 

"You shouldn't have done that. Those women could have gone to the police"

"It's their word against mine, and mine weighs far more than theirs". 

The way he says it gives you chills. You know that the Targaryens like to spread around the rumor that they have dragon blood running in their veins, but this is the first time you see that in action. He would have burned those women to a crisp, if he only could, you think, he just settled for the next best thing.

"You and Osferth showed me a life I never thought possible and it's only my duty to protect you two". 

You burrow yourself closer to him as physically possible in the moving vehicle. 

“Not at yours of Osferth’s risk”

“There’s really not much in this world that can be a risk for me. I come from very old money, that still counts in many important circles - he adds with a hint of regret in his voice - I wasn’t there for you when you were hurt, in the past. I know it’s something I can’t change but I can be here for you, now”

“You know I won't accept to be a damsel in distress. Tonight those words cut me deep but it’s not going to be always like that”

“I know. Tonight you needed to be protected, the same way I did when we first met. That’s what we do, we keep one another safe in our time of need”

“Do you really want to make me cry tonight?”

“No - he slows down to look into your eyes - I want you happy, always”.

By the time Osferth arrives home, you and Aemond are on the sofa, all the pets but Santanico are huddled around your forms. You are not completely asleep, more lulled by Aemond’s body warmth into a relaxed state, even though he is not: you can tell by how Vaghar has still not settled for the night. You can hear her enormous form move about. Every once in a while she would let out a huff and change position and the house would slightly vibrate with her. 

Osferth has used the longer drive home, an old dirt road, since he needed time to decompress. Once he locks your jeep, he sees how dirty the car is and makes a mental note to wash it during the weekend.

He opens the back door in the kitchen and walks silently, unsure of whether or not you and Aemond would still be awake

“Osferth?” Aemond’s voice in the darkness makes him jump out of his skin

“Are you two awake?”

“Yeah - you answer, reluctantly leaving your lover’s warmth - how are you feeling?”

Osferth has to dodge the dogs’s attempt at being petted and the cats unwillingness to move from their positions; once he has reached your outstretched hand, he kisses your palm and proceeds to lie on you, thus loading your collective weights on Aemond

“You ok on the bottom?” “I’ll let you know when my legs start to numb Os”

“Are you good, my love?” you ask again, concerned

“I am, ish” he adds, unbuttoning your blouse to kiss your tummy

“Osferth… - you try but your words are cut short by Aemond’s lips on the side of your neck - boys…” you try again and it goes nowhere, their lips and fingers seem able to strain any line of thoughts you have. 

“We really need you” Osferth murmurs against your belly button, before blowing a raspberry on the soft skin there, forcing a laugh out of your mouth

“You can have me, always”

“Now - Aemond says as his nimble fingers go for the zip of your skirt, his voice heavy with despair - please raqiarzy”

The pieces go together in your brain as your lovers undress you with care: they need the comfort of your embrace after tonight’s fiasco, the oblivion only your body can provide them, to know they are safe inside of you and that you feel the same in their arms.

You don’t protest when Osferth removes your boots, skirt and stockings before helping you on your feet, Aemond’s fingers unhook your bra and his hands mold around your breasts as the garment falls on the floor; only your panties remain and Osferth makes a short work of them, after he has kneeled in front of you. 

There’s nothing as erotic as standing naked between your still clothed lovers and they know how much you like this, how many goosebumps bloom on your skin where the elegant material of Aemond’s suit touches you, how much your legs tremble as Osferth kisses over your mons pubis as his fingers splay on the front of your thighs.

You don’t know where to put your hands, all of the sudden, as if this is the first time with them

“Hold on me” Aemond whispers in your ear and your hands go to the nape of his neck, fingers crossing there, leaving you gloriously exposed to your lovers.

“You have the most delectable pussy, my love” Osferth’s hot breath tickles your mound and you know this is going to be a long night, where fight as you might, you won’t have the upper hand, even with Aemond who is usual the subbest of you three

“And the best hips to grab a man could have ever asked for and the softest breasts” Aemond says, his left hand on your hip, the other making his way slowly from you neck to your bosom

“You… you planned this” you manage to say, your voice already broken with need

“Teamwork” Osferth beams, before burying his face in your pussy.

HIs tongue kitten licks your clit and your hips move forward on their own accord, giving him the chance to grab your ass to plaster your cunt against his face. He wants to eat you out slowly, with long licks up your slit, using the flat of his tongue as his nose moves against your clit with each of his moves until you sob, the stimulation not enough to bring you to orgasm and he decides to have pity on you, his tongue licking your bud with broader strokes until his lips curl around it, sucking harshly on the hardened nub without pity and you orgasm for the first time tonight. You are thankful that your lover’s hand are there to support you, because your legs quiver as Osferth doesn’t stop, his long fingers in your pussy entering and moving in and out at a slow pace, meant to prolong your orgasm as Aemond keeps kissing you neck, his fingers spreading you lower lips for Osferth to see how your hole clenches around his fingers. You keen at that, feeling exposed, seen in your desire. A long litany of please fall from your lips as Osferth finds your g-spot and focuses all movements there, wanting to make you come just by his fingers only, as you move your hips desperately, knowing he won’t stop until you finish, but you are not sure if you are capable, not after your first orgasm being so close; he seems to know and his free hand pushes against your lower belly as Aemond’s hands pinch your nipples and he is whispering in High Valyrian in your ear. It is too much, too much pressure, it is too hot to breath, your nipples sending shockwaves of pleasure directly to your clit as pleasure builds and builds and builds until you squirt violently, the pleasure makes you knees bend 

“You are so good, love” Osferth’s praises come from far away

“You did great - Aemond kisses your sweaty temple - do you think you have another one in you?”.

You shake your head while he helps you on the floor and kisses your trembling lips the moment you are both lying there, his tongue softly playing with yours as you try to focus, but you can’t, not with the way his hands roam your torso and lower belly. The moment he helps you spread your legs, you realize Osfeth’s fingers haven’t left your pussy and your hole is still contracting around his digits.

“I believe she does Aemond, she just needs a little push” he says, his fingers curling while his lips attack your clit again.

You try to move your hips but there’s nowhere to go, pinned by Osferth’s arm over your belly and Aemond’s scorching hot body behind you, his lips kissing your neck, his hands keeping your labia open for Osferth’s fingers and lips again. You can only let your head loll on his shoulder as you cry out, your hands instinctively scratching Osferth’s back until another orgasm crushes you and you scream, incapable of understanding how this one is even stronger than the other two before.

Your lovers curl around you, their caresses delicate as they help you come down from the high, their body heaths lulling you into relaxation

“Was it too much?” Aemond’s voice is laced with worry, he is still scared, after all this time, of bedding you too hard, of hurting you unintentionally

“I… I’m ok” you slur

“Do you want to be carried to the bedroom?” Osferth knows you can endure so much more, but he is going to give you nothing less of the best care, in between lovemaking sessions

“Yes, please”.

Both men help you on your feet and Osferth carries you bridal style to the bedroom, where he lies your body on the sheets 

“I haven’t kissed you yet”

“Not this set of lips, at least”

“I should rectify that immediately”.

His mouth slants over yours, his tongue already seeking entrance, which you give with a moan and he ravages you, he is still too wired up to be gentle, needing to use you to vent his frustration; if it was just the two of you, you’d already be bound and pinned like a beautiful butterfly  and he’d be listing all the depraved things he’d wanted to do to your body, with your permission.

Your hands tug at his clothes the moment he is on you, you need to feel his skin over yours and you don’t care about the ripping sounds you hear, you want him naked, you want Aemond naked as well, their bodies yours to explore, their cocks ready to be buried inside of you.

You loathe that he has to move backwards, away from you to remove his trousers; you try to follow him with your lips on his and this warrants you a laugh from him and a tiny slap on you cunt, which makes you moan and fall back on the bed, your legs splayed, your core already glistening. 

You notice Aemond at the end of the bed, naked, eye patch off and cock erected, the pupil of his lilac eye swallowed by the black of desire

“Seeing something that you like?” you ask, fingers opening your lower lips, he groans

“Everything” he answers, one hand cupping his balls, his teeth worrying his lower lip. He needs you so much

“You look like you might need a hand with that - you say, trying to go on all fours - let me suck your cock”.

Aemond lets out a strangled hmm as his fingers curl tighter around his balls; you are such an erotic vision he’s not sure for how long he is capable of resisting coming just by seeing you crawling towards him. You would have happily sucked him off but Osferth’s hands wound around your hips, forcing you backwards against his body

“Be good love” he chastises you

“But I really want to suck cock” both men groan at your words, the phantom memory of your lips around their manhoods is a threat to their composure

“Later, if you behave”.

You want to pout, but you don’t have the time to, since Osferth lies on the bed, with you stretched over him and Aemond crawls towards you until he is over you, his cock straining for your pussy

“May I?” he asks

“Yes” you moan.

Slowly he grabs his member and guides it to your slit, moving it up and down to collect your juices to lubricate himself before breaching you. He moans as if this is the first time your pussy welcomes his cock, your warmth intoxicating; in truth it’s the intimacy provided by the position you three are that makes him shiver, the fact that he can kiss the two of you at the same time, your soft moans as his hips move deep and slow inside of you give him the guidance he needs to know he is doing good. Osferth’s praises directly into his ear are heady and the way he cups your breasts to offer them to his hungry mouth, make his control crumble and his hips move faster in your heat. You are a trembling mess, sandwiched as you are between your lovers, your clit continuously stimulated by Aemond’s pubic bone, his thick cock tearing you in two as he pushes and pulls against your G-spot; God you can feel every inch of him searing inside of you, molding your pussy into the perfect sheath for his cock and you hands fly to his buttocks, forcing him to go as deep as he can, to split you in two, to ruin you for anyone else but him and Osferth. The moment his hips pick the faster pace, the only thing you can do is cant your hips and moan, his lips ghosting over yours as broken High Valyrian spills from his mouth, a string of “Kessakessatolīkessakostilus'' yesyesmoreyesplease, against your lips as the friction increases as does the brutality of his peace and the squeeze of your cunt’s muscles until you come, kick starting his own orgasm. You both scream, your body curling around his, never wanting to let him go and he loses all strength, falling inside your embrace, his breath short and Osferth is forced to turn all of you on the side, before you crush him.

You frantically kiss Aemond, your hands still on his hips to prevent him to leave your cunt, needing to feel that connection as both your orgasms subside; you don’t need to ask him if he’s all right, the joyous way he kisses you lets you know he has enjoyed himself

“Avy jorrāelan” he whispers against your lips

“I love you too, and you as well” you say, burrowing against Osferth’s front

“You were both beautiful - Osferth says with a soft smile, even though his cock hurts - perfect”

“Kirimvose issa jorrāelagon” thank you my love, spills from his lips, the pleasure forcing him to revert to High Valyrian, until his brain starts working normally.

You reach backwards into Osferth’s hair to grab the blond strands to press your lips against his; your body is tired but you need him as well, wanting him to find peace in your depths

“Osferth, please”

“Are you well enough to have me, love?” as much as he likes fucking you until you are midless with pleasure, he knows he is walking a thin, fucking line here

“I am. You need this, do whatever you want to me”

Your submission is heady now, as it had been the first time; it sucks the air from his lungs, the knowledge that you are happy to have him, even though you must feel tired and sore, that part of your pleasure derives from him using you to pleasure himself. It’s convoluted and not many people would understand that, sometimes, this is what you two need. He can’t torment you the way he would were Aemond not here, he would have you dangling from your delicate wrist, your feet barely scraping the floor as he prepares to mingle pleasure with pain, but that doesn’t really matter. His other lover's hard limits are a way for Osferth to be creative with his use of you like his personal whore.

He lets you kiss Aemond one last time and then helps you on your knees, he spreads them open and keeps you in this position using his, bearing the weight your legs cannot right now. You let your body against his, safe in the knowledge he will not let you fall, while his right hand travels to your navel, to dip in your pussy to play with it and with the combined comes dripping down your tights, tortured moans escape your mouth. His fingers breach you long enough to collect enough spunk to lube his own cock and then he enters you with a swift movement that makes you scream in pleasure and pain, your walls still reeling from the orgasm Aemond has given you. Osferth’s right hand flies to your neck and curls there, his left grab you hip to make you start to move on his shaft. Every upward movement is met by your hips going downward, each pass forcing a bit more of his cock inside of you as your hands scrabble uselessly at his arms, trying desperately to release his hold on you, but you are not allowed to go anywhere, not until his cock has breached you open completely and you sit on him, his manhood buried completely in your heat. The hand around your throat constricts you airflow and you feel dizzy, torn between moaning and breathing

“I should keep you like this for the rest of the night, warming my cock, would you like me to use you like this?” his hand uncurls to let you speak

“Yes, please, whatever you want” 

“Or shall I fuck my load inside of you, mindless of your pleasure? I made you come with my mouth, haven’t I? You had your fill for the night”

“Yes, I love you” you start feeling your mind unraveling and fight to answer his questions

“I think I shall fuck you like this, see if I can make you come again - your cunt clenches violently at his words, you know he is able to extract orgasm after orgasm from your body, even when you think you don’t have any more to give - Your cunt is far more honest than your mouth, I shall expect that from you, my beloved whore”.

His hands curl on your hips to move your body in tandem with his and your knees give up after the first pushes, the pleasure too great for your body to compute and you let yourself feel, your head lolled back on his shoulder, your lips seeking his. Each and every thrust tears you asunder and knits you back together, never quite pushing against your G-spot, keeping you dancing on the edge as your nerves scream, too overwhelmed to properly carry on the right message. It’s pleasure, it’s pain, he’s killing you and making you feel alive and you start screaming, mindless, animal-like wails as your mind takes off and the mixed signals of your body make you quiver and shake. You don’t really feel Aemond’s forehead against yours, his words don’t register in your ears, but his warmth does and you let yourself grab at him, scratching the delicate skin of his shoulders as he helps Osferth move your spent body. The moment Osferth decides to focus on your G-spot, your body starts thrashing violently, every cell screaming that you can’t come any more, but the heat builds and builds and builds the moment he fingers your abused clit and you scream and beg that you can’t, please and he just continues, his thrust focusing on that spot inside of you; he needs you to come around him for him to sink into oblivion with you. When the knot in your belly snaps violently, your brain blanks and you don’t feel Osferth coming inside of you, his groans of pleasure as his cock spurts ropes and ropes of cum inside your walls, you are just a rag doll in their combined embrace, your body too heavy for you to move and you close your eyes, not even shivering when his cock leaves the embrace of your spent cunt.

You come back to your senses in the bathroom, sitting slouched on the counter, Aemond in front of you, making sure you don’t fall over

“Hey” you croak, trying to smile

“Welcome back, raqiarzy. How are you feeling?”

“Like I have run three marathons at the same time” this elicit a quiet smile in Aemond, who kisses your nose

“Do you think you can sit without my help?”

“I should - your body feels loose, every muscle overused - Why is the water running?”

“Osferth is drawing us a bath”

“Get you a man who can do both: fuck you into unconsciousness and then bathing you.”

“You looked like a goddess - his forehead finds yours - so beautiful. I couldn't stop staring. You, being taken like that… you were the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life”

“You look quite dashing yourself when we manage to fuck you into unconsciousness - you smile at the way he blushes still, after all this time - I love you, I’ll love you always”

“Nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao” I will love you forever; how are you supposed not to cry?

Osferth joins you in the bathtub after a while, you and Aemond already chilling in the hot water. When you had bought this home, the boys were not part of your life and you still compliment yourself for choosing such a big tub that three adults can fit without a problem.

Osferth stares at you two for a moment, you look so relaxed, eyes closed and hair up (God forbid Aemond gets his hair wet, his ridiculous thirteen step hair care routine would take all night to complete) and his heart swells with love for the two of you. He is not sure what he has done to deserve you both, but he is simply grateful that you are in his life.

Gently he slips into the water and you and Aemond open your eyes lazily. Slowly you lift your arms so that he can hug you and he is mesmerized, as usual, by your breasts: the delicate skin and the darker hue of your nipples make his brain short circuit

“Earth to Osferth? Do you copy?”

“Yes” he burrows his face against your neck as Aemond’s long arms embrace you both.

You stay like this for a while, Osferth needing the closeness after the gift of your submission, after your lips desperately seeking his as he fucked you brutally, as if you needed him to own you in every way. The whole experience gives him a high nothing else can compare to and requires him to be close to you afterwards, his body seeking yours as a safe haven.

“Let me wash your hair, Osferth” you say softly.

You are still so surprised of how much of a softie your Osferth can become, after dominating you. It’s not only his need for close contact, it’s his whole posture, the soft sounds he makes, how sleepy he looks and how thicker his accent becomes. It’s like there’s two men sharing his body: one cruel and domineering in the bedroom, the other delicate like a dandelion; the first one you can’t win against, when he decides to pop up, the second can fold just by the push of your full breasts against his chest.

“Yes, please, I would like that” Osferth says with a mellow voice as he turns in your embrace.

You try to reach for his shampoo but it’s actually Aemond who passes it to you with a grimace (he just hates the stuff. The ingredients list only gives him a rash and how good can a product be, when it’s shampoo, conditioner and body wash, three in one?), reminding himself that he truly needs to kidnap Osferth for a full day, in order to teach him some skin and hair care routine; but that’s for another day, at the moment he only wants to lie his head back on the rim of the tube and listen to Osferth’s moans of pleasure as your hands massage and caress his scalp. Oh boy does he moan after every single time your hands work the lather in his short hair, your fingertips pushing in the right places, relaxing him even more than he already feels and you keep going for longer than it should be needed to wash someone’s hair, just because he needs this form of closeness as he does need to dominate you and it’s a way for you to show him how much you care about him and how grateful you are for the way he protects the gift of your submission.

The only reason you decide to dry yourselves and go to bed, is the cooling water, making you all shiver, even Aemond who usually gives off ridiculous amounts of body heat. You can stand, even though your legs shake a bit and you thank God tomorrow is Saturday and you don’t have to go to school; kids are way too good at noticing things.

You dry one another with love and care, you and Aemond focusing especially on Osferth, who is still in that headspace where he is soft and needs to feel loved and cared for. 

You let Aemond take your hand to guide you back to bed, Osferth is plastered against your back, his breath hot against your cheek; he’ll need a good chunk of the night to come back from the drop of endorphins he is experiencing right now.

Your lovers still need you, thus you are positioned in the middle, so that they can sleep with their heads on your chest and belly. Their anger is gone, drowned by the depths of your body and now they need your softness to reach their balance again. You are the only person capable of quiet the storm inside of them and they are never letting anyone hurt you. You’ll ask them tomorrow to delete all information they have gathered about those women, they kept you safe when you needed to, their job is done for tonight.

#aemond targaryen x reader x osferth #aemond targaryen x y/n x osferth #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #osferth

[ughgoaway]

So glad that you’re feeling up to writing! Have we seen Matty and teacher’s first fight? Feeling angsty today. Or if you’re feeling more fluff, maybe first time they have to build something together and she’s trying to focus on the directions and well we know how that prob goes….

ahh, thank you, my love! and omg, I love both of these concepts, so I am gonna talk briefly about both of them hehehe.

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The first fight would definitely be tour-related, I think. Matty is stressed at the idea of leaving you after you've only just got together. Time apart is hard for any relationship, let alone a new one. But Matty doesn't communicate that. He just mopes around and keeps on starting petty fights. He's trying to avoid you a little bit, too. If he starts spending less time with you now, then it won't be as bad when he really goes.

He thinks that if you're fighting before he leaves, he won't miss you as much, and it won't be as hard. He's wrong, of course, and if he said that to anyone, they would tell him that. But he hasn't told anyone that thought process because he knows that, and he needs to live in denial a little longer.

And if you're honest, you're freaking out, too. But in a very different way to Matty. You're just scared of how much you're gonna miss him. So you want to spend as much time with him as you can. Which doesn't work so well when he's trying to avoid you.

One week before tour is when it finally boils over. It's 11 pm. when Matty gets home, and you're kinda done with him. So you’re waiting on the sofa when he comes in. He drops his jacket on the kitchen chair and sits next to you with a huff, rubbing his eyes with his hands and sighing heavily. 

So, in the weeks coming up to the tour, it's weird. Matty is leaving home early and arriving late, claiming it is tour practice, but you know that the other boys are home way before him. You try to cuddle with him in bed, but he gives you a quick squeeze and rolls back over.

But you rationalise it to yourself by telling him he's more involved as a creative director, so maybe that's why he's home at odd times and is acting off. You choose to ignore the fact that he comes home smelling of wine and someone else's perfume.

You don't beat around the bush, “are you cheating on me.” You ask bluntly, facing Matty with a blank look on your face. 

Matty choked on the air immediately, coughing out his answer as quickly as he could, “What? No. why would you think that?” he looked at you with wide eyes, and he could tell you were on edge and trying to keep a strong facade up still.

“You've been avoiding me for weeks. You’re leaving for tour next week, and every time I try to spend time with you, you fob me off.” Matty tries to cut in and defend himself, but a sharp look from you shuts him up. 

“And you come home smelling like a bar and some random woman. So please, just be honest with me, Matty. I can't do this anymore. Im exhausted.” Your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. The wall you had tried to build was quickly crumbling as you just became more desperate for an explanation. 

Matty feels his heart shatter as soon as he sees the tears forming in your eyes, and he cracks immediately. “I promise im not cheating on you. I could never do that to you. I've just been freaking out about leaving you when I go on tour. I know my job is hard to cope with, and my leaving for months at a time doesn't help. It’s practically ruined every relationship I've ever had, and I just can't cope with losing you” Matty pours his heart out as he speaks, dropping his head in his hands and rubbing his face. "And it's just some random perfume I found in the studio, I was trying to cover up the fact that I've been chain smoking cigarettes. didn't want to freak you out."

“Oh,” Matty says dumbly, trying to process how you can always be so mature and adult in situations like this. 

You sigh in relief at his words, but can't help yourself from blueting out what you really think. “Well thats stupid.” You say bluntly. Matty shoots up and looks at you confused for a few seconds until you keep talking.

“Matty, I came into this relationship knowing what you do. I knew tour would happen, and I knew everything that would come with being with you. And I still wanted to, because I care about you.” You pull one of Matty's hands away from ringing together and hold it in your stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. 

“Yeah, oh,” you repeat, giggling at Matty's choice of words, or more choice of word. He smiles at your laughter and pulls you into his side. You settle in quite happily, laying your head on his chest and looking up at him. 

“M’sorry for freaking out on you. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I promise to talk to you about it if I do.” You nod at Matty, leaning up to peck his lips and coming back down with a content smile on your face. 

“Thats okay,” you start, “now. We have like 3 episodes of bake off to watch because you've been avoiding me, so can we watch them now? I want to see susan fuck up pastry week and laugh at her with you."

Matty laughs and nods happily, flicking on the tv and pulling a blanket over the both of you, humming as you both settle into the sofa.

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Now, as far as building stuff together, I think you managed to avoid it for a good couple of years. Until you're pregnant, and it's time to build baby Healy’s nursery. 

Matty is on the floor and is flipping around the ikea booklet, trying to figure out which way is up. You're sitting on the chair behind him, trying to secretly google a YouTube tutorial despite his many protests. 

“Wait. That's part b? I thought that was part d?” You hear Matty mumble to himself, and you can't help but burst out laughing at his words. 

Matty looks at you, annoyed before whining and moving the floor to come and sit in front of you with the book in his hands. “You're a teacher. Can you teach me how to read again? Apparently, I've forgotten how.” he pouts and rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you with a mopey face. 

“Mm, im not sure I can. Why don't we just hire someone, baby? What's the point of being rich if you don't use your money to do things you don't wanna do” you say, stroking his hair and fiddling with the ringlets.

“But I wanna build it for them. For Annie, my dad built everything because I was busy freaking out every five minutes. Thought I could build something for this one” Matty explains, placing his hand on your bump.

You didn't actually need to build anything yet. You've still got almost half of your pregnancy left, so there's time. But when Matty puts his mind to something, he's doing it. 

You hum thoughtfully as Matty continues to stroke your bump, and suddenly, you feel a weird flutter you haven't felt before. You scrunch your face and look down to Matty, who is staring at your bump with wide eyes.

“Did you feel that too? It felt weird. Maybe my acid reflux is back or something” You had been having a hard time with heartburn your whole pregnancy, and assumed it was that again. But Matty sitting up and placing his ear against your stomach tells you it must be something different.

“What are you doing? Matty-” You try to figure out what your boyfriend is playing at, but Matty holds his hand up and shushes you. 

“Wait stop talking for a sec.” You pause and huff at being told not to talk, but that fluttery feeling comes again, and before you can question it, Matty pulls away from you with a gasp.

“They're kicking! That's what that feeling is. They're kicking. C'mon, feel.” Matty grabs your hand and holds it to your stomach, and soon enough, you feel a pair of tiny feet pressing against your hand.

Your jaw drops, and you look down at Matty, whose eyes are glassy. He has a massive smile on his face as he places his hand over yours, watching your bump as you both feel your baby kicking for the next 10 minutes. You are both silent apart from the odd gasp when you feel them kick again. 

Matty soon takes his hand off you and grabs the IKEA booklet again, determined to make this crib with no help. And you don't try and get him to give up this time, sitting back and watching happily as he sticks his tongue out to focus as he builds.

#first fight and building a baby nursery in one post #talk about emotional whiplash #these might be kinda bad as i do feel a little delusional today #not enough sleep combined with mental illness is a funny thing #ask! #teacher au!

[kkongdakz]

“ YOU'LL BE FINE. ” ft. kim jiwoong

jiwoong x gn!reader, genre : angsty, comfort writing, warning : crying, low self esteem, wc : 0.6k

author's note : my little mona, this one is for you 🩵 never forget how precious you are, okay? okay.

by pushing the door of his apartment after his work day, jiwoong did not expect to find the latter deprived of any light source. getting rid of his shoes and jacket, he walked in the near darkness until he reached the door of your shared room, pushing it slowly without making any noise. but when he heard sniffling in the room, and your curled up figure in the middle of the mattress, he hurried to you, placing his warm hand on your shoulder.

« love, you're okay? » — your silence and your tears redoubling in intensity, answered instantly to his question. so he pulled himself up beside you, slipping his arms around your hips to slide you into the reassuring warmth of his arms. his second hand was lost in your hair, playing gently with a few strands to help you feel better. « bad day, uh? » he whispered against the crown of your head, on which he placed a light kiss. you nodded slowly, clutching your hands to his jacket as a kind of inking, to make sure he doesn't move a millimeter away from you.

« i hate this day. » you end up saying between two sobs, hiding your puffy face in the hollow of his neck. jiwoong tighten his grip around you, as if he were wrapping you in a protective cocoon — and you felt your panicky heart calm down slightly. « you don't have to talk about it. » he said softly, letting his fingers slide gently down your spine. it was comforting, and despite the fact that you were mad at the whole world right now, jiwoong knew exactly how to calm you down.

jiwoong moved slightly away from you, placing his hands against your cheeks. he wiped the tears from your cheeks, chasing them away with his long fingers, before offering you a warm smile that made you want to cry even more, « it's okay now. you are safe. » then he continued gently, observing the smallest delicate particle of your skin, his fingers tracing the contours of your face, « you’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. »

biting your lower lip, you didn't expect him to place a butterfly kiss on the tip of your red nose, « you can cry, yell, whatever.. i’m not gonna leave your side, » his tone was soft, reassuring, like the way his lips pecked your face, and his fingers danced on your skin, « just let it all out. because you don’t have to pretend to be fine with me. »

but the tears never seemed to leave your eyes, although your heart was hurting. but the softness of his words and the delicacy of his touch, made you believe that in your storm, there was a sunny spot, through which you could escape and enjoy a moment of respite.

« i’m sorry you have to go through this, my love, » he whispered against your cheek, and then the smell of his cologne tingled your nose, « but, i promise that everything will get better soon. » and you decided to believe him, at the precise moment when he closed the distance between your lips, giving you a comforting and warm kiss. one that you sorely needed.

then he slipped his arms under your knees, carrying you lightly to lay you on his legs — his face lulled by the glow of the moon, seemed to make him a marble status. little by little, your negative thoughts fade away, letting you breathe calmly and slow down the previously frantic beating of your heart. « please don’t give up now, » he added suddenly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, watching your eyes in the most tender way, « you'll be fine. »

and you suddenly realized that you were very lucky to have jiwoong with you, because no one else could ever find the right words to soothe you, reassure you and make your problems seem slightly less painful. jiwoong was the little fairy hand that came to remove the thorn in your heart.

·˚ ༘ taglist (fill out this form to be added to the taglist) : @invuwrld @snowflakemoon3 @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @ilovechanhee @neroislost

#jiwoong imagines #jiwoong scenario #jiwoong drabbles #kim jiwoong imagines #kim jiwoong scenario #kim jiwoong drabbles #kim jiwoong #zb1 #zb1 jiwoong #zerobaseone #zerobase1 #zb1 drabbles #zb1 imagines #zb1 timestamps #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone timestamps #zerobaseone scenarios #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #jiwoong x reader

[peppermintsparker]

this kiss [ E.MUNSON ]

SUMMARY -- you've been in love with your best friend for a while now. it takes almost losing him to confess your love. WARNINGS -- kind of angsty, literally tooth-rotting fluff, first kiss but kind of badly written because i don't know how to write them, explicit language AUTHORS NOTE -- first eddie fic babey!!!! dedicated to my fellow twisted sister (who somehow puts up with my chaos) @starbxcks

It had been Dustin to tell you what happened. You had already known all about the towns supposed curse, and you knew what happened to Chrissy Cunningham, but what you didn't know was that Eddie and the others were going to the Upside Down to stop Vecna.

In all honesty, you're pretty pissed that he didn't tell you before he went.

"Y/n." Steve stopped you before you entered the room they had put Eddie in to recover. He could see just how worried and angry you were, and he knew it could be detrimental to Eddie's recovery if he let you in like this.

"Don't try to fucking stop me, Harrington" you snarled. You were not in the mood for games, or talk to anyone that wasn't Eddie. But the anger came second place to the worry that threatened to completely destroy you. "Just let me go and see him. I need to see he's okay."

It was a thirty second stare down before Steve relented and moved his arm from blocking the door. He catches you by the wrist as you're about to walk through it, "just be prepared okay Y/n? It looks bad."

You thank him, taking a deep breath in and out before you walk in. Eddie's laying in bed, eyes closed with his wounds cared for. At first glance, you'd assume he was asleep but you knew him too well. "Oh Eds." You whisper, sitting on the chair next to his bed and carefully holding one of his hands.

"Hey, sunshine." Eddie whispered, gently squeezing your hand before he opened his eyes. He tries to smile, but you don't miss the wince as he does, nor can you stop yourself from crying. "Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Just a little banged up, see."

With your spare hand, you wipe your tears away before smiling at him. "You idiot, moonlight." Your voice is thick, and you're in disbelief that he survived. Especially if the attack was as bad as Dustin described to you. "I thought I'd lost you. What Dustin had said. Please, just tell me before you decide to do anything like that again."

Eddie just about garners the energy to nod, and you can tell he's worn out, "Go to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up, I promise."

It's five hours before Eddie wakes up again, you had dozed off in the chair. Head lolling backwards, mouth open with a tiny slither of drool at the side, but Eddie swears you're still the most beautiful girl in the world. "Hey, sleepyhead." He squeezes your hand again, hard enough to wake you but not hard enough to hurt you.

"You feeling a bit better now?" You ask, Eddie nodding earnestly in response. He looks better, you admit, less exhausted and more alert. It's the sleep, and the IV rehydrating him, which does it you suppose, but Eddie knows that it's your presence making him feel better. Not that he'll tell you anytime soon.

"They're saying they might discharge me soon. They want to do one more wound check, make sure there's no infection, and they want to administer more antibiotics but then I should be good to go." Eddie tells you, a hopeful smile on his face.

You know what that smile means, "good." You express your pure relief at the news, "I hope you don't mind me staying. Because I'm not leaving your side until you're recovered."

Eddie doesn't say it, but he doesn't mind at all. He'd do anything to keep you by his side forever.

It's a long one and a half weeks before the discharge papers are signed. Whilst he's being instructed on wound care, you pack up everything that the two of you had to keep you going during the stay. "Come on, let's go home." You sling the bag onto your shoulder, car keys in one hand and Eddie's hand in the other.

Part of you knows you should take him back to the trailer, but luckily for you, Wayne already knew Eddie would be staying with you for the foreseeable future. "This isn't the way to the trailer park?" Eddie reminds you, evidently confused as you drive in the wrong direction.

You don't say anything as you drive home. The surroundings became slightly more obvious to Eddie, and he doesn't miss the way your breath hitches slightly. It's another fifteen minutes before you reach home. Turning the engine off, you grab the bag from the back seat before helping the man beside you out the car.

"I thought you lived with your parents?" Eddie questions, as you take him on a general tour of the small one bedroom house. He knew he might have missed some things whilst he was hiding out, and then in the Upside down, but he also knew you'd have told him if something happened.

"They kicked me out. But aunt Marjorie left me this house in her will anyway, so I would have left sooner or later." You shrugged, kicking your shoes off before flopping backwards onto your bed. Eddie removes his shoes and joins you, letting out a sigh of relief to be laying on something other than an uncomfortable hospital bed.

Eddie hums in acknowledgement, before trying to conceal a very obvious yawn. The unspoken suggestion of a nap was thick and heavy in the air between you, but neither one of you were weirded out owing to the countless nap dates you'd had before.

Eddie's quick to shed his jacket, t-shirt and jeans before climbing into bed and you join him once you're in more cosy attire. Both exhausted from a weeks worth of lost sleep, you're out like a light in seconds.

"Y/n!"

It's the yell of your name which wakes you up thirty minutes later, and you're confused before you feel Eddie thrashing about. "Y/n. No please. Don't leave, Y/n! Wake up!" Eddie yells again, face screwed up in his nightmare state. Fear wraps its cold, clammy fingers around your heart, and you shake him in a desperate attempt to wake him up.

Eddie wakes with a start, eyes darting around the room until they settle on you. It's easy to see that he is so clearly afraid of something, and it hurts to see him like this. "I'm safe, moonlight." You soothe him, the two of you now sat up. Eddie's not shy about placing his hand on your fabric covered chest, feeling your heartbeat to convince himself.

"I thought Vecna had got to you and I was too late to save you. I can't bear the thought of ever losing you, it'd be like losing half of my heart." He admits, and you can see it now. Eddie's so in love with you.

You don't say much, just adjust yourself so that you can rest your forehead on his with ease. Eddie's in love with you, and you're in love with him. And even though it feels like the wrong time and place, you ask the question anyway. Because you nearly lost him, and it felt like losing half of your heart.

"Can I kiss you?"

But Eddie doesn't answer. Instead, he cups your face in his hands and you could have sworn your heart was beating so fast it felt like it would explode. Eddie's breath feels warm, and if you were living in a cartoon you're almost positive sparks would be shooting off the two of you. And then finally, not a moment too soon, Eddie's lips meet yours.

You had plenty of first kisses with boys over the years, but none had made you feel as safe and loved as this kiss.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson #stranger things oneshot #stranger things #peach writes

[elslovers]

the one - E. Williams

a/n hello my loves apologies for falling off I have just been in a writing slump but I decided the perfect way to pull myself out was with a series I had been wanting to write for awhile of on shots inspired by Taylor swift songs - as ur certified switftie tlou writer it is my duty this is angsty but no better way to start off than some Ellie folklore angst I hope you enjoy

" and if my wishes came true it would've been you"

Your hand clutches the stem of your wine glass, makeup-caked eyes, and a weaker spirit than you possessed less than twenty-four hours ago. Chaos is so intense it's almost peaceful, like when something moves so fast the human eye can't see it. That's how losing Ellie has you feeling, spinning so fast you almost think you are standing still pacing, and you know your pacing, but your mind is somewhere else. You only stop when you catch a glimpse of yourself in your vanity mirror.

" I guess the greatest loves of all time all time are over now"

Your body sinks into the memory of your meeting you'd always been a romantic dreaming up the great love affairs you would have with the cute barista because she said she liked your bangs or the pretty girl who lived down the hall from you freshmen year it wasn't uncommon for you to fall fast and hard which is what made Ellie so Wonderfully different you weren't free falling into fantasy you were content in reality with her from the moment you met you were her waitress and she and her friends who would soon become chosen family had been hogging a table all night at the shitty little diner you worked at ordering nothing but hot cocoa and fries for the table you usually would mind but from the moment you saw her you started saying a prayer that shed be there till close she would smile at you every time you brought fresh cocoa for the table finding a new aspect of you to compliment shyly each time, you saw the eyes her friends made giving her a look of stop fuckin around and make a move and when she saw you dip into the bathroom she made her move.

you remembered it all feverishly a little hazy in some parts but some moments so sharp with hurt you were washing your hands when you saw her walk in from the mirror a smile turning up on your lips - was she here for you? You recall thinking these moments were fuzzy, her mind racing too much to remember the small talk you made, but when her lips crashed onto you with hunger, you made sure to remember everything the way her calloused hands held your cheeks, the way she didn't hesitate the way she backed you against the wall and after what felt like only a second pulled back and gave you a smile that seemed to say she already knew she had you and then kissed you again just as starved as the first Ellie has a talent for kissing you every damn time as she might never kiss you again

from that moment on it was just you and Ellie

until it wasn't

"and if you wanted me you really should've showed"

The problem with loving someone like Ellie is the love being loved more than their lover, or at least that is what you had gathered after six months of loving and losing at the same time she has a wandering eye, always had, always will, but she was yours. That's what you assured yourself of when she started hiding her phone more. She was yours. It's what you told yourself when she stopped asking you to accompany her to the house parties she sold at. She was yours, but Ellie belonged to everyone and no one all at once. She was never really anyone. Her friends would say how impressed they were. She'd made it so long that she was never good at monogamy, and you would always say she was good with you.

because god was she good with you

good until she wasn't until she was good with the girl she promised was just a client turned smoke buddy you prided yourself on being cool unattached the type of girlfriend Ellie wanted the kind who didn't panic (or at least didnt let her see) you kept yourself so cool the girl she told you not to worry about found her way into the bed you shared found her way inside the girl you thought would make you never be shared again

good until it wasn't

The screaming her begging you not to leave you, throwing her shit into the hallway of your apartment, demanding she get the fuck out. The girl who Ellie could still taste on her lips, running for the hills as fast as she could, was all still fresh in your mind, an open wound bleeding out memories you try and drink away. 'How could you be meant to sound solid and angry like a proper woman scorned would sound? You try to sound like the hell these women are supposed to give, but it comes out weak and broken, followed by a sob and trembling lip as you try to preserve whatever dignity you have left - how could you be so blind? "Baby- she's nothing. I swear she's nothing." ellies pleading, but it is disregarded because, at that moment, you feel like the one who's nothing "Honestly, Ellie, if that's how you treat girls who mean nothing, then what the fuck am I- six months, and then you meet some girl and take her home." you sun onto the bed sobbing for her to leave until she shut the door of your once-shared home for the last time

"but if you never bleed your never gonna grow"

you spend the next three weeks bleeding day drunk in your bed cycling the five stages of grief one after another day in day out it hurt in a way you'd never felt pain before the betrayal the worst of it all it hurt more then losing her

but you let yourself feel it all because somewhere a part of you knows if you don't feel it now you'll be feeling it for the rest of your life

" I'm doing good i'm on some new shit"

Two months feel like a lifetime, like you've been walking around watching your whole life on a film screen with a projector that never entirely comes into focus - but after two months of grief, you want to bloom again. You want to be the version of yourself you were before Ellie broke your heart and took your light with you. The pains are still there, but it coexists alongside a fury to not let her win

so step one is to do your hair how you used to big rollers, pulling them out into perfect curls. Step two is to do your makeup in a way that makes you glow light and airy as the sun gave you her blessing to outshine her, and three, go to a party knowing there is a 50/50 chance she'll be in attendance and not caring either way

the music is loud in your chest, the bass a welcome replacement to the pounding go your heart. You always made it a rule never to go out alone, but getting over Ellie seems to require breaking some rules 

you take one shot after another, stopping when you reach the happy place of drunkenness of not being too sure you are standing on solid ground 

you dance alone, and you dance against people. You dance with people until you've settled your eyes on a girl who could make you forget who made you like this in the first place

she's pulling someone by the sleeve of their flannel, and after a moment, Ellies figure steps Into the red and blue led lights of the dance floor

god, Williams, you always did have good taste

the familiar feeling of emotions flowing out of you serves as a reminder that no amount of bleeding will heal this wound

not yet, at least

your frozen mind is willing your body to move before she has the privilege of seeing you of being in the same space as you, a privilege you swore to both her and yourself she would never have again - but you rooted to the floor, and in an instant, her eyes are on you filling with an emotion you can't place

before you know it, her strides are strong coating across the dance floor, leaving the girl who two minutes ago you were plotting to take home in the dust

she's by your side in an instant, and you want to run - you need to run, but you can't bring yourself to feel the spark you just got back draining faster than you can stop 

"Angel," her voice is loud but gentle over the music, and her words make your stomach churn Ellie and alcohol have always been a sour mix

"you don't get to call me that anymore" There's no gentleness in your words, no harshness, neither its matter of fact, which somehow hurts Ellie more than if you were to scream at her

"I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, but it's months, and your all that's on my mind. I see it; okay, you're the one. I got caught up, and I lost sight of that," her voice is begging, a sound you used to adore but now just makes you want to vomit

you were the one

but she wasn't

"your right- I was. I was the one, Ellie, and we- use, this fuckin love was something, and if I got everything I wanted, it would've been you. It would've been sweet if you could've seen it was me all along, but you couldn't, and now I'm the one that got away, not the one you get to have"

whatever force that had been holding you there let go allowing you to walk out of that party prepared to finish the bleeding and move on to the growing.

#iriswrites #tlou fic #ellie williams #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #Ellie williams angst #ellie x reader #taylor swift #folklore

[andiwriteordie]

Hey!!

So, this is a prompt for you to write (if I’m not late?) and I got this idea from a post a few moments ago (forgot the name of the tumblr account) SO I thought I’d send it in as a little bit of a challenge? You can sort of do what you want with it I guess, I’m just suggesting it!

Prince!Will Byers and Knight!Mike Wheeler. I do LOVE the idea of Mage!Will Byers BUT I don’t see a lot of Will being a Prince and stuff. Just like - they’ve been raised in the palace together dancing around their feelings because Will is obviously a Prince and Mike is a commoner who is in knight training so… Mike feels like he isn’t good enough for Will but Will feels like whenever he’s around Mike the weight of the crown lightens and he can be himself and not worry.

NOW. The prompt idea. I was wondering if you would like to write some angst…? 👀

Will has a list of suitors from across the country, and Mike - knowing this - is obviously jealous and sort of hates his role in society, thinking he isn’t good enough for Will to love. But to Will, Mike is just Mike and he’s always been that, and that’s exactly why he loves him.

So, was wondering if you’d be up to write an argument about Mike explaining that he isn’t good enough and Will explains that he isn’t and this whole angsty argument starts about the suitors, society and Will and Mike as a whole.

Just a suggestion! I just don’t see a lot of Prince!Will and Knight!Mike, and I also wanted to let you write some angst since your writing is insane! ❤️

hello! i think the post you are referring to is this one by @messrsbyler who actually sent me an ask based on that same premise! so, i wrote a little fluffy piece here that is part one of this prince will/knight mike au. you can read them alone, but i recommend reading part 1 first!

enjoy!

—

taking mine, but it’s been promised to another

Will’s twenty-first birthday is almost here.

His twenty-first birthday is almost here, and though Will isn’t the crown prince and there isn’t necessarily that same pressure for him to get married as soon as possible, Will knows that it’s coming. Over the past six months, his father has forced him to go through an incredibly long list of suitors and meet each and every single one of these women, making careful notes of which kingdoms and territories would be the most advantageous allies.

It’s been an exhausting six months full of meeting after meeting and ball after ball, and Will knows that it’s only going to get worse from here. Once he turns twenty-one, he’s certain his father will place even more pressure on him to find a bride, which means Will’s life is about to become even more miserable than it already is.

He’s always known this day would come. From the day he was born, the crown has weighed heavy on his head—though not quite as heavily as it has weighed on Jonathan. His older brother still carries the largest burden and still is forced to work most closely with their father, and Will feels sorry for him. He wishes he could do something to help his brother, but Jonathan is adamant about protecting Will as much as he can from their father. 

So, Will does the bare minimum as the second born prince. His interactions with their father are less frequent than Jonathan’s own, but they’re no less brutal. After all, to their father, they’re nothing but the mechanism by which their family line will continue. He doesn’t care for them as his sons, and he barely even cares for them as people. All he cares about is maintaining their image and the power within their family.

It’s an exhausting life to live, and as the days pass by, his birthday draws closer and closer, Will just feels even more exhausted. 

Nowadays, the only thing that keeps him going is the fact that he has Mike.

… 

Yeah. The two of them have been courting in secret for six months about—ever since the very first ball Will’s father had thrown in attempts to find Will a suitor. After that ball, the two of them had gone back to Will’s room and danced together, and they’d shared the first of many kisses at the start of their courtship.

And since then, they’ve been carefully playing a dangerous game, hiding from everyone and stealing any moments alone together that they can. It’s risky, and Will knows it. It’s why he never let himself entertain the idea of courting Mike, even though Will had a sneaking suspicion of Mike’s own feelings for him for years before their relationship began. 

But eventually, it just became too difficult to resist Mike. And with the prospect of a lifelong marriage to a woman Will knows he’ll never love looming over his head… Will had decided to take the leap of faith and allow himself this little bit of happiness. 

Oh, how Will wishes he could go back in time and convince his younger self to take the leap of faith sooner. He can’t believe he and Mike missed out on so many years of stolen moments and passionate kisses and nights shared just between the two of them, simply because both of them had been too scared.

He doesn’t know how much time the two of them have left together. The future is simply too unknown now, and Will can’t think about it without getting overwhelmed. So, for right now, all he can do is lean into this feeling and enjoy every moment he can get with Mike.

Most of the time, Mike is more than happy to go along with this, and as much as Will is falling more and more in love with his best friend, he knows in his heart Mike is falling more and more in love with him as well. They’re both in too deep now, but there’s no turning back. 

Besides, Will would never want to turn back. He never wants to give Mike up—not for anything in the world.

Today is strange though. Today is strange, and Will’s is exhausted, and Mike… just doesn’t seem like himself. He’s oddly silent on their walk back to Will’s chambers, and he remains quiet, even when he shuts the door behind the two of them.

Something is wrong, but Will… doesn’t know what.

“Are you alright?” Will asks quietly, turning back around to look at his best friend.

Mike won’t meet his eyes. He remains quiet for several moments, staring at his shoes, but then, he finally looks up at Will. “What are we doing, Will?” he whispers.

Will blinks. “What?”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat. “What are we doing?” he repeats, quieter now. “Or… or rather, what are you doing?”

“I… I don’t think I understand what you’re asking,” Will says with a frown. “What are you talking about, Mike? What do mean, ‘what am I doing?’ Just tell me what’s wrong. Talk to me, please—”

“I’m talking about us, Will!” Mike shouts, and Will can’t help but flinch. His voice is desperate and pained, and all Will can do is stare at him. “I… I’m talking about us. What are we doing here? What are you doing here?”

Will frowns again, and he takes a step towards his best friend, giving him a look. “I’m not doing anything,” he says, a bit stubbornly. “I’m not doing anything but loving you. What are you doing, Mike? And why are you suddenly so upset about this?”

Mike clenches his fists; then, he gestures to the door. “Because we just got out of another meeting, Will,” he reminds, his voice impossibly quiet now. “Another meeting where your father reminded you that you’re supposed to… to be finding a bride. Because you’re the prince, Will. You’re supposed to… to be marrying some princess or other fancy noblewoman who will be exactly what you need. And I… I’m not that. I’ll never be that, and by the very nature of who I am, I can’t be what you need, Will! I can’t! So, I’m asking you again: what are we even doing? Why are we doing this? When we both know how this is going to end.”

The words feel like a gut punch. Suddenly, Will feels a bit breathless and a bit like someone has knocked him right off his feet in the middle of a training session. He and Mike stand less than a couple feet away from each other, eyes locked on one another and edging towards a precipice that might change everything for them once again.

And there’s only one damn thing Will knows for certain.

He doesn’t want to lose Mike.

“Don’t you dare say that,” Will whispers back, and he’s surprised at how badly his voice is shaking. “Don’t you dare say that… that you can’t be what I need, Mike.”

Mike swallows the lump in his throat. There are tears in his eyes now. “You know it’s true, Will,” he whispers, his own voice breaking. “We both know that I can’t be what you need.”

“Then, forget what I need, Mike!” Will shouts, taking a step towards his best friend and pushing on his chest firmly. “Forget what I need, Mike! What about what I want? Have you ever thought about that? Because no one else does. Everyone just thinks about what I need, or what I need to give them. But what about what I want? And what about what you want?”

There’s a surprised look on Mike’s face, and for a moment, all his resolve begins to crumble so Will can see him more clearly now. He’s scared—God, he looks as scared as Will feels right now. Mike doesn’t want to lose him. As much as Will doesn’t want to lose Mike, Mike doesn’t want to lose him.

“I know what I want,” Will says, his voice dropping to a whisper again. “I want you. I don’t care about anything else, Mike… I don’t care what my dad wants or… or what our kingdom needs… or what everyone thinks. I just want you, because I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

Mike’s breath catches, and he takes a step towards Will now, so they’re barely inches apart. “You’re more than enough for me,” he whispers, his breath warm on Will’s face. “God… Will, that’s all I want too. I only want you. I just… I didn’t know if you… if I… was enough for you.”

Will reaches out, cupping Mike’s face gently, and he presses their foreheads together. “Of course, you are, Mike,” Will murmurs. “I love you. I need you to know that. And… no matter what happens… we’ll find a way to be together. Okay?”

“Okay,” Mike whispers back, and he leans forward, kissing Will slowly and intentionally. The air between them feels charged with a familiar energy, and as Mike murmurs, “I love you too, by the way,” Will can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah?” he says, raising a teasing brow. “Prove it.”

A grin forms on Mike’s face, and before Will knows it, Mike is picking him up and holding him close. “Anything you want,” he whispers.

Will just laughs; then, he reaches up, kissing Mike again, more deliberately this time. “I just want you,” Will whispers, and the two of them just share a smile. 

Maybe the future is uncertain right now, and maybe everything will change in a matter of weeks. Maybe the promises they’ve made to each other will have been made in vain, and maybe there’s nothing they can do to fight the inevitable.

But right now, all that matters is the two of them.

And so, Will just falls, and Mike falls with him.

They give everything to each other, and they are everything to each other. 

And in the end, that’s something no one else can ever take away from them.

#andi's asks #byler #byler ficlet #andi writes not dies #except andi is dying rn #bc i am so sleepy

[flowwochair]

please do elaborate on angsty bessimu!! you are selling me on this ship very fast

also do you have sources for bessieres’ depression i’m trying to learn more about this pretty man

OMG GLADLY!!! THE MORE BESSIMU FANS THE BETTER!!! To begin with, like I've mentioned before, Murat and Bessières met by attending the same school (the exact age at which they met I am a bit confused on since according to biographies on Murat he started attending when he was 10-12 but I'm unsure when Bessi started attending, I assume around the same age but I am unsure on that due to lack of info on Bessi), I assume Murat must've been somewhat attached to Bessi given they soon afterwards went on to serve in the same guard (both of them dropped out, Murat because he wanted to, Bessi due to financial reasons), which makes their later separation in years between their early 20s and the Italian campaign even more odd to me, I'm not sure what happened, maybe Murat promised to find them better jobs after the guard they were in disbanded, maybe they had a fight, maybe Murat didn't want to leave but something happened so PRIME ANGST TERRITORY!!!!!!!!!!!! Murat managed to reunite with Bessi in Italy around 1796 after which Bessi was promoted and put under Napoleon's command, Bessi would also go on to serve in Egypt, Spain, Prussia, Russia, and Austria with Murat (those are the ones I remember for sure, so I may be missing some due to being unsure whether they were together or not). Their separation after Murat's betrayal was definitely sudden regardless of whether Bessi may have known Murat's intentions or not, we also don't know exactly how Bessi himself felt towards Murat after Murat, but I assume he presented more grief than hostility, or at least that it contributed to worsening his depression. Once again PRIME ANGST TERRITORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Regarding Bessi's depression, you can find info on it in a couple of his biographies (including his surface level wiki, although there it is mostly implied), some writings from his ADCs for 1810 onwards, and some surviving letters dated from 1810 onwards. Even before the Russian campaign in Spain Bessi was already demonstrating some signs of worsening depression due to his unwillingness to cooperate with colleagues and general apathetic attitude. Bessieres seemed miserable, and the Russian campaign would only go on to worsen this due to him having to witness so much death around him, not to mention the tremendous losses suffered by France during the campaign. To make things worse, after Murat's betrayal, Bessieres, who was already carrying Bernadotte's duties, now also had to carry Murat's, this would overwhelm anyone let alone a person already described as emotionally unstable as Bessieres. From 1811 onwards, Bessieres was consistently disgraced by frequent defeats and failures. By 1813 he seemed to have been at his worse psychologically), although I don't believe he knew he was going to die nor planned his death (the way it played out at least), it was certainly suspicious he showed less commitment and went out of his way to order a great deal of his personal correspondence to be burned.

#rhodo answers #rhodo rambles #jean baptiste bessières #joachim murat #bessimu #i am ever expanding my bessimu army

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 16 - "I'll Follow You Down" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

I have to write at least one angsty GioTrish fic every Whumptober, so here it is.

~~~~~~~

Prompts Used: Flatline, 'Don't go where I can't follow' Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Character: Giorno

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~~~

Trish took a taxi straight from the airport to the hospital, small carry-on bag and all. All it had taken was the sound of Mista's voice over the phone for her to get on the first flight out of Milan and head back home.

She flew through the doors to the emergency room, finding Mista sitting there, one arm in a sling, bloodstains on his coat.

"Mista!" Trish cried as she saw him.

"Trish," he stood, hurrying toward her and holding her close with his good arm. "You got here fast."

"I took the first flight out as soon as you called," she said. "Is there any news?"

Mista shook his head, and slumped back into the chair, Trish taking the one next to him. "He's still in surgery. They…they haven't updated me. I guess no news is good news but…god."

"What happened, Mista?" Trish asked, trying to keep her panic down at the moment.

Mista ran his hand over his face. He looked awful, exhausted—he didn't even have his hat on. "We've been having trouble with this rogue group of Stand users. A couple weeks ago, they hit one of our places and took out a bunch of our men. Giorno, you know how he gets, he wasn't going to stop until he had taken them down. And he didn't. He kept going and going until he tracked every one of them down and took them out. I did what I could, Trish, I did, but he would just leave in the night when I passed out from exhaustion. He just…gets so driven about this kind of thing."

"I know," Trish replied.

"If one of the other men out on patrol hadn't tipped me off, I never would have known and I—god." He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. Trish looped her arm through his and squeezed before he continued. "Fugo and I got there in the thick of a fight. We fought through the goons and got to Giorno and that was when all hell broke loose. Our plan was to get Giorno out of there and let Fugo go nuclear with Purple Haze, but the guy's Stand basically had a mirror effect. I tried to shoot him but the bullet got me instead. And then he was right behind me, and Giorno…Giorno shoved me out of the way and…" He swore, squeezing his eyes shut. "Bastard punched a hole right through him. Like—you could see the…you know, never mind. But it was bad. Really bad. So bad Gold Experience doesn't seem to be around right now so…"

Trish covered her mouth with a hand but before she could ask any questions, there was some kind of alarm and doctors began running down the hall. Mista and Trish were on their feet at once, following to see what was going on, fearing the worst.

A doctor stopped them before they could get to the room all the others disappeared into.

"You can't be back here."

"At least tell us what's going on!" Mista demanded. "Is it Giorno Giovanna?"

"Yes, he flatlined as soon as we got him into recovery after surgery," the doctor said seriously. "His injuries were extreme to say the least. And we are not very optimistic. I'm sorry."

"What the hell does that mean?" Mista demanded. "He can't die! Don't you know who he is?"

The sounds from inside the room became less frantic and the blaring of alarms slowed, giving Trish back just a little of her breath. The doctor looked over his shoulder.

"Let us in there," Mista snapped.

"I can't do that."

"You can and you will," Mista growled. "I'm his freaking bodyguard, and this is his fiancé."

The word caught Trish off guard more than she could have imagined. It hurt, deep down, the flavor of daisy chain promise rings and chocolate flavored kisses; of drunken confessions and soft blond hair wet with tears that glinted in the moonlight. A lie that was so false and bitter where it should not have been.

Because of moments just like this.

She barely noticed as the doctor moved aside with a baleful look and Mista ushered her in.

Giorno lay in the bed, white as the sheets, doctors fussing over him, adjusting wires, checking his vitals. Trish could hardly be comforted by the steady beeping of the heartrate monitor because Giorno certainly looked dead, another machine even breathing for him at the moment.

"Giorno," Trish breathed and left Mista's side, instantly rushing to the bed, grasping one limp hand in hers as she pressed her other to his cheek.

"Miss, you can't…"

"Work around her," Mista snapped.

But Trish was already pulling away. "No, I'm sorry, please."

She returned to Mista's side and he held her as they watched the doctors finish up before one came over to them.

"Well?" Mista asked.

"He suffered extreme internal damage, and we're going to have to put him into surgery again in a couple of days. But I will warn you, in the condition he's in now, there's no guarantee he'll survive that long. It will take a miracle for even a partial recovery."

Trish and Mista were silent as the doctor left. A couple nurses continued making Giorno comfortable before they left as well.

Mista sagged and ran a hand over his face. "We have a miracle waiting, he just…needs to make it long enough for Gold Experience to manifest again."

Trish silently left his side and pulled a couple chairs over to the side of the bed.

"He will," she said, but with little conviction. "He'll live, Mista."

The gunman's wan smile betrayed his own worries about that. Because they both knew just how bad off Giorno was. How often he threw himself into danger as if he didn't care whether he lived or died—only that a job got done.

Were they enough to bring Giorno back from the edge? Or had he finally stepped too far, with no hope of being pulled back?

"Are you okay here?" Mista asked hesitantly. "I need to call Fugo. He's still…cleaning up everything."

"Of course," Trish replied then, "Mista, you should go home and get a shower, sleep if you need to. I'll be fine here, and…I call you if anything happens."

He pressed his lips into a thin line but the sag in his body told Trish just how exhausted he was. "I'll grab a quick shower, but I can't sleep right now."

Trish nodded in understanding and squeezed Mista's hand before he left.

The gunman stopped at the door though and turned back. "Trish? Talk to him," he said sincerely. "You might be the only one who can get through to him."

Trish was silent, a lump in her throat keeping her from speaking. Alone, she reached for Giorno's limp hand, wrapping her fingers around his. She reached out with her other to stroke the lank, blond curls from his face. A face weary and worn beyond his years, dark patches under his eyes giving his face a hollow, deathly look.

"Why do you have to do this to yourself, Giorno?" she whispered, voice breaking before she swallowed it down, shaking with anger and fear and a million other emotions. "Don't you see what this is doing to everyone around you? Don't you know what it's doing to me?"

There was, of course no reply, but she continued. "Don't you remember when you promised that someday we would be together? Well, that someday never came, Giorno, and it never will if you keep doing this kind of shit." She ground her teeth together. "I love you. And I'm never going to stop loving you just because you push me away. I will always be here waiting, waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and say you love me back. Say it when you're not drunk and you're not—not dying." Her breath hitched and she ducked her head until her forehead rested on his knuckles. "Because I'm going to keep coming for you whether you like it or not, so don't…" Two tears rolled down her cheeks and wet his hand. "Don't go where I can't follow, Giorno. Just don't."

She started sobbing silently, clutching his hand. But Giorno remained silent, clinging to life, the machines breathing for him, and Trish wasn't sure how much longer she could be strong.

XXX

Trish left the room briefly to grab a coffee and it felt like all hell broke loose as she came back. The heartrate monitor started blaring the second she got into the room, alarms going off, and her heart dropped to her feet, as she rushed over to grab Giorno's hands again.

"Giorno! No, don't do this!" she demanded, pleaded, as the doctors rushed into the room and practically pulled her away.

Trish stumbled into the corner, watching as they pulled Giorno's hospital gown open, preparing the paddles to shock his heart back to beating.

"Clear!"

Trish watched in agony as Giorno's body arched off the bed briefly, but the monitor continued to blare in one steady beep.

"No pulse," one nurse called obviously.

Trish couldn't do this anymore. This wasn't happening.

"Gold Experience," she called, voice hidden in the chaos. "Requiem. If you can hear me, show yourself."

To her surprise the Stand materialized beside her, eyes trained on its user.

"Do something," Trish demanded, eyes wet.

"I am weak right now," the Stand said, speaking in an odd, flat version of Giorno's voice. "But I can save him."

"Then do it," Trish hissed. "He's dying!"

"Yes, and so am I," Requiem said simply, tiredly. "I cannot heal him alone, I will need your help but you have to understand something."

"Anything, just save him," Trish whispered hoarsely.

The Stand stared at her with its uncanny eyes. "I will have to borrow part of your soul in order to be strong enough to heal him. It will bind the two of you irrevocably—even I do not know what that will entail."

"But it will save him?" Trish asked.

The Stand nodded.

"Then do it," Trish said firmly.

Requiem disappeared and reappeared hovering over Giorno, the doctors oblivious as they worked to bring him back.

"Take his hand, Trish," the Stand commanded.

Trish didn't hesitate, she rushed to the bed, pushing through the doctors who cried out in warning, reaching out to stop her. Trish ignored them and stretched, latching onto Giorno's hand.

Energy surged through her and Giorno both, a burst of golden light that threw her backwards, the ring finger on her left hand burning.

"Miss, please stay out of the way, you—"

The constant blare of the monitor stopped and continued in normal paced beeps, the doctors regrouped, shocked as they looked Giorno over again.

"He—he's completely stable!" one of the nurses cried in surprise.

"Heartrate, sinus rhythm—all completely normal."

"What the hell?"

Trish looked down at her finger and saw a small golden band wrapped around it like a ring. Her hand shook, dizzy, but she didn't have time to think of that because Giorno suddenly gasped, choking on the tube in his throat.

XXX

Trish sat once again at Giorno's bedside, staring at his hand clasped in hers, two identical bands on their ring fingers. Trish remembered the promise ring Giorno had made her a long time ago, crafted from tiny daisies, a sweet blush on his face as he had Gold place it around her finger; a promise that someday they could have the life they wanted.

But maybe that was a foolish wish spoken by children who didn't yet understand the hardships that the life they led could bring. Who didn't realize what the weight of loss could do, when it kept coming and coming, constant reminders of fallen comrades, and only more names added to the list of victims.

But Trish had grown beyond that happy ending fantasy. She had grown up, and so had Giorno, and perhaps she should have been more clear to him that she didn't mind the blood and the dirty deeds. The danger, and the long nights. As long as she could be the one to wash the blood away, as long as he would come back to her bed when his work was done and she could hold him while he slept, there was nothing more she wanted.

But perhaps now she had tied them together closer than that. She didn't feel any different, but there was an undeniable bond to Giorno now, her own heartrate synced up to his.

A twitch of fingers before his hand finally curled around hers in turn.

"Giorno?" she asked, heartrate picking up as she looked up quickly, seeing his eyes flutter open.

"Trish," he whispered, eyes pools of earnest green. "I should have told you this a long time ago."

Trish couldn't speak as he reached up, cupping the back of her head to pull her close, pressing their lips together. Trish melted against him, twining their fingers together, the two golden bands pressing against each other.

Giorno pulled away and pressed his lips to her ear. "I love you."

#whumptober2023 #no.16 #flatline #don't go where i can't follow #jojo's bizarre adventure #fanfic #hospitals #soul bonds #love confessions #giorno giovanna #trish una #guido mista #giotrish #jjba part 5 #post canon #gold experience requiem #vento aureo

[mamamittens]

Alright, ngl, I fully planned on writing this week but work decided it was time to do inventory again. At the literal last minute.

I. Hauled. Ass.

And tomorrow I'm probably going to be counting a fuck ton of shit sooooo RIP IG

Anyway, as a small apology lemme talk about the au of Sweet Child, Grow (now the nickname for "How our Seeds Grow"). And fittingly, I'll start with the name!

I actually didn't think too much about the name before rolling with that but it's kinda genius in hindsight because now the two read as "Oh, sweet child of mine, how our seeds grow" which sounds awful wistful don't it? And sweet. I like it. And it's very poignant considering the au is all about little reader growing up with the WBP.

Also! I did write a fair bit for the next chapter but it felt short and I thought I could more or less squeeze in a few chapters now that the narrator (child reader) is way less angsty about being kidnapped and not as observant so there's less wordage to get across here. And as I did I realized I accidentally wrote in a little plot hole in the first one.

See, reader's supposed to really love animals. But what happened to their den den mushi? The snail from the beginning? So I'm taking a moment to answer what no one has asked.

They didn't get to keep the snail until well after they returned since it's apparently pretty easy to convert them into 'phones' so to minimize shenanigans, they just withheld it until they felt they could trust reader.

And since in Grow the reader is just a scared kid, they get to keep the snail with a normal shell. Reader named him 'Cream' even though they weren't supposed to because it's not 'their' snail. It's the marine's snail. Little reader has gotten better at hiding how attached they are to their issued snail at whatever base they're on but not very well.

As a treat, here's a little snippet!

Oh! And before I forget!

I'll try to remember y'all that asked to be tagged in the next update but I make no promises! If you're super concerned about it though as soon as it comes out you can also read not only Sweet Child but Grow as well on AO3! Or maybe follow the tag for the story??? Idk how reliable that is, I don't really follow specific tags on Tumblr ngl

AO3 is currently experiencing some minor issues (8/30/23) though, so please be patient if it won't work immediately and perhaps check back later!

Anyway! Thanks for being patient everyone, as well as the fairly positive-ish neutral reaction to my new rule concerning asks for updates! It's a lot less stressful thinking about which fics to update now that I have a hard line. I'm afraid the personal clash between pathological demand avoidance and people pleasing is incredibly uncomfortable to grapple with at the best of times. And it leaves me feeling like either a raging bitch or a doormat 😬

I'm hoping to get some writing done soon but with inventory in full swing tomorrow I won't be surprised if I just pass the fuck out when I get home. Istg I opened cult of the lamb for a quick sesh and next thing I knew it was 9 (my bad entirely. I know damn well that game is very hard to put down- always one last thing I can do before going to bed but it's never just one is it???)

Speaking of which! I gotta go to sleep now lol

#one piece #platonic yandere #oh sweet child of mine #how our seeds grow #mittens update

[awkwardtortilla]

Hcs for when cami gets sad??? Xoxo

Awe hell yea

Sad!Camilo hcs

This was a lot less angsty than I had in mind but I still love it and loved writing it

warnings: sickeningly sweet; kinda heartbreaking; gender identity crisis; Camilo being a sad puppy; not proofread

It’s really obvious when Camilo’s upset

He mopes

It’s so goddam pitiful you can’t help but want to hold him

I mean you were gonna do it anyways but his sad puppy eyes and droopy head just make it more compelling

He’ll keep up an act for the crowds and the kids, smiling and playing

But as soon as he waves goodbye the grin fades and his shoulders slump and he crosses his arms across his chest

Yes Ik it’s very angsty teen

But it’s also very Camilo

He’s not gonna try to hide his feelings if he doesn’t feel like he needs to bc it seems stupid

Why would someone bottle up their feelings?

Why hide them?

That just creates more problems

And not the fun kind

So when you approach him and ask if everything’s alright he doesn’t try for a smile and nod his head

Camilo looks right at you and shakes his head with the saddest look it makes your heart ache

So you offer him your hand and lead him somewhere secluded

You sit down on a bench or the ground and either A) gently pull him onto your lap or B) let him sit next to you

It depends on the temperature and your moods

It doesn’t matter which position tho he’s still gonna curl up there and flop his head onto your shoulder which prolly hurts you both a lil but you don’t really mind as he nuzzles into you and breathes deep

You wrap your arm(s) around him, rest your chin on the top of his head, and trace the tips of your fingers up and down his arm(s)

Or you might do that to his back

Or you might rub his back

Or a combination of the above

But anyways

As Camilo heaves a sigh you quietly ask if he wants to talk about it

Welp I was gonna say that toward the beginning of your relationship he wouldn’t but I honestly don’t think it would matter

If he doesn’t need to get it out or if he doesn’t have the energy to talk about it then he shakes his head

So you’ll just chill there with him, comforting him wordlessly, pressing tender, loving kisses anywhere and everywhere

Neck, forehead, temple, hair, hands, arms, shoulders, everywhere

If he’s on your lap with his chest to yours you’ll slowly comb your hands thru his hair and twirl the ends around your fingers

Ayyyy mierda [shit]

Camilo loves every bit of it

He’s so goddam grateful for you and your endless affection

He loves that you aren’t pressing him for answers and instead just provide this silent but strong wall of comfort that he can lean on

Then again

Camilo will definitely talk to you

He trusts and loves you with all that he is and will have no issues with opening up

I’m sure you’ve heard this a million times in all the other hcs and imagines and fanfics but a main cause of Camilo’s upset-ness is that ppl in town are always asking for him to be other ppl

No one asks for just Camilo

So he’s often left feeling unwanted and used

So you’re there to remind him that you and the other Madrigals love Camilo for Camilo

He’s more than his gift

Then another huge source of mopey behavior is an identity crisis

With his gift it’s easy for all the appearances and genders and changing to go to his head

Camilo is also, without a doubt, a he/they

I don’t know a single he/they or she/they (including myself) that has not had multiple gender identity crisis’

And even after they come out and have it “figured out” there are still lots of times when they question it

So when Camilo has his he’s very confused and feeling vulnerable and probably second guessing everything every time someone calls him “he” or “they”

There’s honestly not much you can do for this

No solid advice you can give

No definite or clear solution

But you can offer support

You can promise that you’ll be there no matter what

It doesn’t matter if Camilo is a guy, gal or nonbinary pal

You’ll always love him/them for him/them

And Camilo is infinitely grateful for it

You have no idea

Camilo’s heart swells- no- bursts with love and gratitude and adoration

He holds you a little closer

Squeezes you a little tighter

Falls whole stories deeper in love with you (if that was even possible)

#camilo headcanons #camilo imagine #camilo madrigal #camilo x you #camilo fanfic #camilo fluff #camilo x reader #fluffy shit #identity crisis #gender identity crisis #actually kinda sad #not proofread

[aringofsalt]

uhhhh 12 for the song fic challenge and steddieeeeee (what a cool idea!!!!)

thank youuuu 💕 i had two options in mind for this, but this one was the less angsty one lmao. hope you like it!!

12 | FALL OUT BOY - HEAVEN, IOWA

Kiss my cheek, baby, please Would you read my eulogy?

“The truth is,” Steve began, then paused, trying to clear the lump from his throat. “The truth is, I didn’t know Eddie very well until recently. He annoyed the shit out of me at first, to be honest. He’s so loud, and he just never stops. But I got to know him better, really quickly, and what I learned was that he really just never stops caring. He had everything against him, the whole town wanted his blood, and he stayed with us to the end. He saved my brother. He helped save me, helped save this entire godforsaken town and—and died for it, and you’re still talking shit about him.”

He stopped then, levelling the pair of cowering housewives with his best, bitchiest King Steve stare. Most people in Hawkins by now knew better than to speak ill of Eddie—or any of the Hellfire crew, for that matter, even the ones he didn’t know personally—to or around Steve; he’d gotten in several near-physical fights in the months since spring break. But even now, some people hadn’t gotten the memo, and here he was, once again jumping to defend his dead friend to a couple of absolute strangers in the middle of a grocery store.

Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile.

“Anyway. Have a nice day, ladies.” Turning his back, he forced himself to walk at a leisurely pace towards the checkouts at the front of the store. Distantly, he heard Dustin’s footsteps behind him; he’d almost forgotten the kid had been with him. They paid in silence, waiting until they got back to the car before Dustin was pulling him into a crushing hug.

“I’m really glad you’ve got our backs, Steve,” Dustin told him, uncharacteristically softly.

“Always,” Steve assured him. “Now get in the car, I need to get you home.”

—

“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he crossed the threshold.

“In here!”

Steve followed the voice through the house and into the kitchen, pressing his face into its home in the mess of dark brown curls. “Missed you,” he breathed.

“Missed you too, baby,” Eddie replied, turning to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist. “A little birdie told me you were getting into trouble in the Big Buy.”

“Of course he did,” Steve groaned. He returned the hug, sighing happily. “He was probably on the walkie the second I drove away.”

“Of course he was,” Eddie confirmed. “But hey, it’s not every day my knight in shining armour delivers my eulogy to the townsfolk, defending my honour from those who would besmirch it—”

“Sure feels like every day,” Steve grumbled back, his grip tightening around Eddie’s body. “I wish we could tell the whole damn town. Show them all the truth. I’m tired of you having to hide, I can’t even imagine how you feel.”

“Soon,” Eddie promised. “We’ll be able to tell the truth soon. And in the meantime, I have you to keep me company, and the others, and that’s pretty great.”

Steve hummed in agreement, nuzzling his head into Eddie’s and dropping a kiss on his cheek.

Pretty great, indeed.

---

send me a number 1-100 and a character/ship and i'll write you a mini fic 💕 original post

#asked and answered #juicinmyjams #steddie #spotify wrapped drabble challenge 2023 #sarah writes #steddie fic

[universallychaoticpan]

Hello! I really love your writing, you're doing an amazing job! I have some request (if you ofc feel like writing it, if not than feel free to ignore it or modify however you want! no pressure).

So I thought about something where Dazai during mafia era was in a relationship with y/n but he broke up with her when left without a word. He actually somehow regrets it and tries to find her but she completely dissappeared after the break up and also left the mafia. And then some years later, he meets her again when they both joins fyodor during dead apple and they have to pretend to not know each other but it turns out that she is one of the decay of the angel now. I leave the ending to you, they can have a some sort of reunion, dazai is heartbroken that they are enemies now or whatever you feel like writing. Thank you in advance and ofc no pressure in writing it!

I hope you have an amazing day!!

Hello there!! Honestly this was such a cool request so ofc I had to try my hand at it. Also you gave me an excuse to rewatch dead apple at two am so thanks. This ended up being very angsty damn- anyway hope you enjoy! <333

You hadn't changed; even after so long you could be nothing less than angelic; surrounded by white, nearly glowing silver as the walls of polished..glass? Stone? Whatever it was, it could not rival the brightness of the stars that had seemingly settled in your skin, the sun that now resided in the pools of your eyes. You hadn't changed; you still watched his every move, silent as the grave he had chased since he had abandoned the Port Mafia

And abandoned you along with it.

And despite yourself, despite your fury at seeing him again after evading him for so long and running from the pain that the very thought of him caused, you found that you too were starving for the sight of him. You hated how you kept stealing glances at his dark eyes, now fully exposed as light shone upon his pale skin. You hated him and you loved him still and as much as it pained you to know what he still did not, you could not help to adore the soft hope that you saw simmering in those eyes. You wanted to believe that maybe you could try again; even when you stood in a place far beyond him ever hurting you again. Even when you knew you stood somewhere so safe he would never touch you again. He would never wound you, but he would never kiss you, hold you, trace the lines in your palms like he was memorizing you because you mesmerized him. You wanted to save that hope and those eyes and the man who still held your heart even after he had left you.

You wanted to save it forever; for the rest of your life that you would lead after Fyodor rose from his seat and rested his cold hand upon your shoulder, siphoning the warmth from your skin as Dazai's eyes once again grew dark with apathy and the touch of sorrow that seemed to follow him like a loyal friend.

"I leave you now in the capable hands of my second in command, miss y/n l/n. And though we know you are smart enough to not try running, if you should attempt such a thing, just know that she knows ten ways to kill a man before he can bat an eye.

I know, he thought. I taught her some of them.

Still, neither of you spoke until he had gone. You just sat and waited for nothing, for a pin to fall and shatter your quiet battle.

"I tried to find you. After."

"I know. I was the reason you never did."

Your matter of fact tones did nothing to hide the sadness leaking into your voice; he could hear it's low melody, underlining the smoothness of your words.

"I left the Mafia after you did," you continued. "No one there would have told you anything if they had known where I had gone even if you had managed to not get yourself killed for what you'd done. But Yokohama hurt too much. You never left, though, did you; Why?"

"I wanted to," he replied. "I thought as soon as I had left the first thing I'd do was get out of Yokohama." He laughed bitterly. "Hell, probably get out of Japan. But I made a couple promises; and try as I might I couldn't break them."

You nodded carefully. "Promises to the dead seem to carry an odd weight for someone who flirts with dead as though no one would care to stop him."

Again, he laughed. "They knew well there were few I would listen to as it was; only one was not dead and I was dead to even her."

He may as well have slapped you with how his words stung. Your throat was tight, your fists curled as though you could bring yourself to hurt him; like it would help at all. You turned your head away from those terrible eyes that had once threatened to pull you in and hold you in their suffocating gravity, those lips that had tasted your tears and your laughter- you couldn't bear to see any piece of him.

"You don't get to do that. Not anymore." You could feel bile in rising in you, your stoked anger hissing under the storm of your mourning. Your tears began to brim up in your eyes when you finally faced him again, your legs nearly failing you as you stood a world away from him. "You don't get to hurt me like that after what you did- you don't have the right to pretend like I was the villain for running from the man who broke my heart. I loved you; and you knew that and you still left me and now you have the audacity to pretend like you weren't the bad guy."

You were tired and it showed; down to the way your head fell and hung between your shoulders as he came around and tried to touch you. But he regretted it almost instantly; because you no longer opened to his touch. You no longer fell into him when your strength was gone; you no longer trusted him to hold you.

But you didn't push him away. You let him hold you as he whispered apologies into your ears that you both knew were far too late to mean a damn thing. You didn't push him away so you could both close your eyes and pretend, for one last time, that you were not too late.

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