#I hate tagging things. so long and goodnight

[abandonedtelevision]

she never fixes this, but at least she..-

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[seithr]

Randomly remembered the half-reason i call my oc-verse by the name it has while laying in bed. One-half of the reason i still knew, but I had forgotten what had truly, really cemented it jointly until now

(it was a song from my favourite band I haven't listened to in a while.)

(the song fit so well at the time, still does, that i needed to hold onto it for the main protagonists forever, by partially naming their story in reference.)

Does this explanation make any sense? Does anyone know why I'm tearing up remembering this. Aahh

[flockrest]

y'all don't know how grateful i am that tu.lin takes up so much of my brainrot honestly, because if it was kido who was at the helm of this. fooey!

[phagodyke]

had a very weird dream the place I worked was in the marine exploration industry and I was presenting a review of a deep sea probe we were retiring and then woke up extremely abruptly bc my body started digging my uterus out with a million tiny blunt spoons YOWIEEEEOWWW

[aycius]

JJK MEN AS DADS !‧₊˚

feat. satoru gojo, nanami kento, & toji fushiguro

SATORU GOJO

literally the kids’ best friends. satoru’s parents weren’t necessarily the most active in his life so he made it a goal to have children with someone he genuinely loved — you. he is such a supportive dad and tends to overindulge in his children’s interest… one of those dads that buys boxes of mangos just because their child said they liked mangos. they wanna learn how to play a sport? satoru’s already got multiple personal trainers in his contacts to make sure your children have the best form of education when it comes to said sport. you thought satoru was playful before? oh, when he’s with his children, he’s even worse. tag, hide and seek, tic tac toe, satoru’s allowing the kids to stay up LATE, because he’s not giving up until he wins one of those games. you argue that the kids are still young, and satoru should be the bigger person and allow the kids to win but satoru isn’t hearing NONE of that. def the type to let the kids stay home just because they said they’re feeling “sick.” you kinda had to step in at a point because the kids got on and started lying just to stay home. regardless, this man loves his kids and is willing to do anything to ensure that they, as well as his lovely wife, you, live a happy and comfortable life. one time after a long family trip, you and satoru were settled in your room while the kids were asleep and he started getting emotional because he genuinely wondered what he could have done to deserve such a loving family :(( poor baby. underneath the playful facade he puts on for the kids, he just wants to make sure they never doubt that their father loves them. you always reassure him that you and the kisses are blessed to have a husband and a father like him.

NANAMI KENTO

you and his daughter are the light of his life. there’s no place he’d rather be than home. he loves it here. he has a portrait of you and his daughter playing in the backyard at his office and always looks at it to cheer him up when he’s having a bad day. recently, your daughter has been clinging and missing him more and she absolutely hates it when kento leaves. your daughter literally takes your phone to text nanami and is constantly checking up on him at work. it’s one of the things he looks most forward to when going to work. he also loves facetiming her when he’s on break because she is always asking for nanami at home and he feels so bad.. always reads her a bedtime story before kissing her forehead and tucking her in goodnight. you and nanami recently started doing road-trips every summer to the beach because your daughter has had a recent infatuation with fish. after a long day at the beach, you, him, and your daughter walk on the boardwalk as nanami carries the little one in his arms, your hand in his as you all admire how pretty the beach is at night. it’s so sweet because nanami loved the beach growing up. the fact that he has the opportunity to go with his new family now, he couldn’t be more grateful. never fails to tell you and your daughter that he loves the both of you more than anything in life. you guys are his purpose and motivation.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

… ok so i’m sure we’ve seen how he has been as a father but—hear me out! toji loves you and his kid severely. toji has always been one to not wear his heart on his sleeve and guard himself but he’s been working really hard, and constantly does, so he can be the best husband and father for his child. although toji is seen as this tough guy in front of others, he has the softest spot for his child. everyday when he comes home from work, his face instantly lights up when he sees his little kid run up to him and give him the biggest hug. scoops the kid in his arm and kisses them on the cheek while he talks about how much he missed the child. he’s def the type of dad to enroll their kid in a sport, and for some reason i can see him being a serious soccer dad. like that man does NOT play. the type of dad to get really loud on the bleachers if another kid on the opposite team LOOKS at his kid the wrong way. constantly makes bets with his kid that if they score a goal he’ll them candy and you’re just like… ykw i’ll let them handle this. you’re just happy to be there tbh. i can imagine toji being the coach to your kid’s traveling team, so weekends are always full of road-trips to the destination where they’re playing at. teaches his kid discipline and respect at a very young age. sometimes he can be a bit tough and you know it’s out of love but sometimes you do have to step in. truly, toji means no harm—he was just brought up roughly in his household. toji parents weren’t the best either so everyday he’s happy that you’re there as a guide to him so he can be the best father possible.

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 3 | long (and a little bit of mutual pining but the kind when they're literally dating which i think is even more pathetic)

tags: modern day, famous au, actor!steve, rockstar!eddie

Eddie stayed longer than he should have. 

He was supposed to leave Chicago with the rest of the band yesterday after their show at Credit Union 1 – opening night for a year-long national tour.

Eddie didn’t leave yesterday though. Instead, he insisted on spending one last night with Steve, one last morning pretending like they would actually get up and go to that breakfast spot they like even though they both knew they’d be spending the time wrapped up together in their bed, in the home they share, refusing to disentangle themselves until they had no other choice.

No other choice meant Eddie waited so long to leave that he ended up on a flight which would get him into Ohio with barely enough time to make it to the venue in Cincinnati before showtime (and he was missing soundcheck completely – sorta shot himself in the foot with that one, in Steve's opinion, though he won’t be caught complaining).

He won’t be caught doing anything – not publicly, anyway.

Steve and Eddie’s relationship is kind of in the halfway-stage between secret and private, where Steve posts vague, faceless photos of the two of them every now and then but still deflects questions about his romantic life during interviews because – look. He and Eddie are both at weird high-points in their careers at the moment, and that means there’s a lot of eyes on them whether they like it or not. Steve had a public relationship turn sour years ago and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen again.

Not with Eddie. Not when it counts.

There are speculations, obviously (and after Steve dropped Eddie off at O'Hare, he posted a photo of the Kiss n’ Fly sign to his IG story with the caption i hate this place :( – mostly for his own amusement at the specific way his notifications implode afterward), and they’ll probably get around to an official hard-launch someday, but for now Steve likes that they’re keeping things to themselves, especially when they don’t get to make that choice with much else.

Steve gets a just landed text from Eddie a few hours after he boarded his plane.

(Steve knew. He’d been tracking the flight).

Before he could respond, Eddie added, miss you so fn much

i miss you too, Steve texted back, and before either of them could wallow in it too much, he sent, gonna make it on time?

probably, Eddie answered. Then, getting ready in the car lol

He goes quiet after that (the getting ready, presumably), which is fine.

Steve gets it.

He’s busy too. It’s why he’s not following along on Eddie’s tour like some glorified groupie, and it’s not like the distance is anything new. On the contrary, it’s been an element of their relationship since they met at an awards show after-party four years ago. It’s more that this time around, they were supposed to only have four-and-a-half weeks together before Steve headed off on a press tour for the movie he filmed last year, but then that got pushed out a bit further, and so that four-and-a-half weeks together turned into a glorious nine, the longest Steve and Eddie’s calendars had ever been aligned without some serious planning beforehand.

He just got used to it, Steve supposes.

He got used to having Eddie around all the time, under his fingertips, under his skin. He got used to saying goodnight in person, in their bed together instead of over phone lines, got used to waking up in Eddie's arms and hearing sweet nothings whispered in his ear rather than reading the texts Eddie would leave for him to wake up to when they were apart.

He'll adjust just like he always does, and the worst part will be over tomorrow morning – that moment right between sleep and wake when Steve will realize Eddie isn’t in their bed with him.

Like it or not, the distance is their normal and they make it work (except it’s not even making it work, because it’s not like that. Any situation, any set of circumstances will work without question because it’s Eddie).

The start time for the Cincinnati show comes and goes. A few minutes into the opening act and while Steve is mindlessly flitting between Instagram and TikTok waiting for the algorithm to fill his feed with clips from the concert (ones of Eddie, preferably), his screen lights up with a call.

“Hey,” he says the second he slams his thumb on the green accept button.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, his tone nothing short of grim.

“You geared up for the show?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie answered, “I’m quitting.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I need you to come tuck my pockets in,” Eddie said, and it’s a goddamn wonder Steve didn’t break down then and there, because Eddie always managed to tug his pants on in a way that made the front pockets stick out just a bit, and throughout their years together Steve had gotten into the habit of tucking them back in for him, squeezing Eddie’s hips a little when he was done and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Steve manages a wet laugh, “I – fuck, man, I wish I was there to tuck them in for you.”

“I want you here so bad, Steve," Eddie says, "I really, really miss you."

“I miss you too,” Steve nodded, even though miss isn't a big enough word for the homesick feeling in his chest, “Only a week until the Indy show though. And I’m coming with you for the Michigan one after.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, and if he sounded a little morose about it, Steve was right there with him. Sure, it’s a comfort knowing he’ll be seeing Eddie again so soon, but when those two days are over…yeah, it’s gonna be a long goddamn while until next time, because Eddie will be playing the Midwest while Steve’s press tour is mostly on the East Coast this time around, and after that he heads up into Vancouver to shoot a period drama mini-series while Eddie plays the southern half of the US, and then…well, Steve could keep going. They’re both taking a short break for the holidays, but that and the rare weekend one of them can fly out to the other is about it for the foreseeable future.

Which, yeah, Steve loves acting, loves that he gets to make a whole career out of it, and he knows that Eddie feels the same way about his music, but…the love he has for Eddie definitely edges out the rest of it – enough that he feels the distance between him like a dull, ever-present ache whenever they’re apart.

Eddie only ends their call when his manager practically has to yank the phone out of his hand and shove him onstage, and then Steve settles back into bed, back into scrolling mindlessly on his phone waiting for his finely-tuned algorithms to do their jobs.

Sure enough, it takes less than thirty minutes for Steve’s FYP to start showing him TikToks from Eddie’s show, and amidst all the hair and leather and silver chains and chunky rings and eyeliner and manic energy, Steve sees something else, something that has the hurt of missing Eddie increasing ten-fold, something that has him seriously considering taking an ax to all his contracts and his career and his livelihood and getting on the next plane to Cincinnati.

Eddie left his pockets untucked.

[lostsyren]

Could you do.....maybe Sofia canceling a date with Rafe because her paycheck got delayed, and she feels to embarressed to go on dates in the same clothes and had plan to buy new things. She tells him that she is sick, but then he sees her at a bonfire party. He feels heartbroken thinking she lied because she is tired of him while he is head over heels, he walks off, she runs after.....ANGGSTTT <3

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ date night

{a/n: sorry for taking so long to get to my requests but I hope it was worth the wait!!}

{summary: sofia can’t make it to date night, and rafe’s not happy about it…}

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

“You really like that dress don’t you?” Ruthie said with a slimy smirk across her face.

Those words echoed through Sofia’s mind as she stared at her closet trying to figure out what to wear with her date with Rafe.

She hadn’t even thought twice about the clothes she wore in front of Rafe and his friends before– having enough confidence in her sense of style. Sofia had carefully curated a wardrobe from lucky thrift store finds and the occasional designer splurge when she had some of her pay check left over.

So when Ruthie had teasingly poked fun at her favourite dress (a satiny, floral slip that she adored), her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

“It’s so cute though, if you like that sorta thing, I can understand why you wear it so much,” Ruthie had continued, hiding her bitchy words under a guise of tooth-aching sweetness.

She hadn’t thought about it again until Rafe had asked her to come out to dinner with him a couple nights later. Sofia enthusiastically accepted– it was only when she got home to get ready, seeing her limited selection of clothes, did the stirring regret begin to overwhelm her senses and Ruthie’s words begin to engulf her brain.

She still had time to go out and buy something new, something Rafe would like (and something that would shut Ruthie up), but when she checked her account balance, she realised she didn’t have enough. After the bills for her siblings tuition and the chunk of her wage she’d spent helping her parents fix the car, she was left with nothing. And she wasn’t getting paid again till a couple weeks.

Sofia huffed exasperatedly, sinking into her bed. She hated feeling like this…feeling inferior. What if Rafe through the same thing? That he was taking her to all these flashy places, driving her around in his shiny car and she couldn’t even dress up a bit for it?

With a sinking heart, Sofia grabbed her phone to call him.

It went through instantly.

“Hey baby, everything ok?” He asked, his voice eliciting somersaults in her stomach.

“Hi Rafe, I just…I don’t think I can do dinner tonight, I’ve got this horrible headache and I think I’m just gonna go to sleep,” she fibbed, biting her lip.

“We don’t have to go out, I can pick you you up and we can just chill at mine– order from that place you like?”

Sofia didn’t like lying to him, it almost physically pained her, gnawing at her bottom lip and playing with the dead skins around her thumb. “I think I just needs some rest.”

“Ok then, get well soon yeah? And text me if you need anything alright? Goodnight Sof,” he said, disappointment toning his words.

“Night Rafe.”

She ended the call quickly, burning hot with guilt– she hated lying. Especially to her boyfriend of all people.

And now she had nothing to do for the rest of the night all because she was too embarrassed to wear the same thing twice…it was honestly so stupid. Sofia huffed and turned around in her bed.

As if sensing her impending boredom, her phone buzzed with a text from her friend, talking about a bonfire party at the Boneyard.

Sofia smiled too herself, slipping on her worn trainers and getting ready to head to the beach.

She didn’t have to worry about what to wear there.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

Rafe, along with Topper, Kelce and Ruthie drove down to the Boneyard. He wasn’t supposed to tag along, but with Sofia cancelling their plans, he had nothing better to do.

As they rolled down the rocky beach in Topper’s jeep, Rafe pulled out his phone, sending Sofia a quick text.

R: Hope that headache goes away soon then maybe we can reschedule? :)

Rafe was surprised at how disappointed he felt after she said she couldn’t make it. All he could think about sitting in the back of the car, watching the Stygian waves roll onto the coast, was how much he’d rather be with her right now.

“Yo Rafe, I thought you were busy tonight?” Kelce pestered with a smirk.

Topper chuckled lowly, “oh yeah, wasn’t it date night tonight? What happened to that?”

“She wasn’t feeling too good so now I’m stuck with you idiots.” He muttered.

“Oh come on, you’ll see her again the club. I’ll make sure to ask for doubles so she’ll come by our table twice, yeah?” Ruthie goaded, twisting her body around so she could see him.

Rafe brewed with a dull anger– he always thought Ruthie was a bitch.

“Two drinks Ruthie? You sure about that? Aren’t you a lightweight?” He scoffed.

“Hey hey hey, let’s have fun tonight yeah?” Topper mediated, parking up the jeep next to the arsenal of vehicles.

The four of them hopped out, heading to the kegger, quickly getting pulled in by their kook friends, enveloped in the heady flow of gossip and conversation. Rafe just stood quietly, sipping at his third cup, enjoying the warmth of the fire on his face and salt of the air on his tongue.

His vision strayed over to the other side of the beach, where all the pogues had congregated. And that’s when he saw her. Dressed in her favourite shorts and sunset coloured hoodie– she looked gorgeous bathed in the glow of the bonfire.

Rafe felt his heart sink into the cavern of his ribcage. She lied to him.

Settling his solo cup down on to the kegger, he pulled out his phone and rang her number, watching her like a predator eyes its prey, his dilated pupils honed on to her unassuming figure.

She excused herself from her friends, walking off to a quieter area before she answered his call.

“Hey baby,” she cooed with a smile, Rafe seething in silence as he watched.

“How you feeling? Still got that headache?” He asked bluntly, his molars grinding down on each other.

“Yeah- yes, still hurts.” She said. Rafe saw her eyebrows furrow as she bit her lip furtively.

“You at home? It sounds kinda loud over the phone?”

“Yeah my siblings have the TV on,” she blatantly lied. Rafe breathed in deeply through his nose.

“Oh so you’re not at the bonfire at the boneyard?”

Rafe watched her face drop, her gaze darting around the beach as she stayed silent on the phone. She locked eyes with him from across the sand, her mouth parting slightly, lips forming a little ‘o’ shape, something that he usually found cute, but now it just irked him.

“Rafe,” she said, voice bordering a whisper.

“You fucking liar,” he hissed, before ending the call, and heading over to the cars, ready to call an Uber for himself and head home.

He tried to regulate his lurching breaths, anger beginning to flow hot through his veins, but it was hard to do when a heart rending sadness slammed into his nervous system, catching him off guard.

Sofia? A liar? No. She wasn’t like that. She wasn’t like everyone else.

His fingers struggled to order an Uber, shaking with the aftershock at seeing her deceive him with such disregard.

“Rafe! Wait please I can explain.” He whipped his head back to see Sofia approach him.

“Stop it Sofia, explain what? Huh? How you lied to me?”

A pang of regret reverberated through him when he saw her glassy, tear filled eyes, her quivering lip. Was he being too harsh? No. She was the one who was in the wrong– not him.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s ugh it’s going to sound so stupid Rafe, but I promise I didn’t mean to hurt or lie to you.”

“What’s going to sound so stupid? Why you made an excuse to get out of being with me? You hate me that bad huh?”

“No no! Of course not. Look, Ruthie said something the other day…” she began, her cheeks red and tear stained.

“Ruthie? What the fuck does she have to do with this?” He yelled. They were on the outskirts of the party, away from the crowds and crackle of firewood.

“She was making fun of how I wear the same thing all the time, you know? And it made me get self conscious…and tonight when I was getting ready, I just got in my own head, thought you would want me dress up more, not just wear the same things every time.”

Rafe’s face contorted in confusion. She couldn’t be serious right now?

“And I can’t just buy a new dress like that, I have bills to pay and stuff so I was just feeling sorry for myself and lied because of my own stupid feelings.” Sofia’s lips began to quiver, another bout of tears quickly approaching, before she shrouded her face with her hands, muffling her soft cries.

“Sof…” he said, tone gentle and kind, feeling like shit for shouting at her. He should’ve know Sofia had a reason for lying and he should’ve know Ruthie had something to do with it.

“Ugh it was so stupid, and I feel like an idiot.” She laughed mirthlessly, as he pulled her into a hug, letting her cry against his chest.

“Baby, you know I don’t care right?”

“Yeah I know. I care though.” She mumbled against his warm embrace.

“Come on, let’s get out of here yeah?”

“Yeah, ok. I’m sorry again, I feel terrible.”

Rafe slung an easy arm around her shoulder, leading her up to road where their taxi was going to meet them, “well don’t, otherwise I’ll feel like shit for shouting at you.”

“Fine. Truce?”

Rafe chuckled softly, looking down at her with a soft smile, as she gazed up at him with her glossy eyes.

“Yeah, truce.”

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

A couple days later, after Sofia had slept over at his place, she woke up to the birds singing on Figure 8, a sound lost amidst the cacophony of building work and barking dogs on the Cut. She sighed contentedly, turning around in the sumptuous sheets ready to nestle up against Rafe, to find the bed empty. She hummed in dismay, forgetting it was Sunday, the day he needed to go down to the office.

Eventually, after letting her eyes flutter shut for a couple more blissful minutes, Sofia rolled out of bed, slipping on Rafe’s shirt, a habit she was getting increasingly used to.

She pattered across the hard wood floors ready to get into the shower, before her eyes snagged on something resting on the drawers. It was a cream coloured bag, one from those fancy stores in Kildare Town Centre, the straps made of black silk.

On it was a sticky note, Rafe’s familiar scratchy writing scrawled across the paper.

Now you don’t have an excuse to miss dinner with me :)

Sofia’s eyebrows quirked up in curiosity as she read the cryptic note, rifling into the bag.

Inside was maybe a dozen items of clothes, from satin dresses to cashmere shirts, all in shades of her favourite colours– blooming pinks, soft oranges, cherry reds. She adored every single one.

Her heart soared with excitement and warmth, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush. Rafe could sometimes be so sweet it left her weak-kneed and gooey, her insides alight with joy.

A creeping sensation of guilt arose– these must’ve been expensive. Sofia noticed he’d removed all the tags off them, probably anticipating her qualms about the price. But she put it aside, ready to first try them on. She’d pay him back, she told herself, running her hands over the silken fabric.

Carefully unpacking each item, she laid them out on the bed, until her fingers skimmed the final one.

Pulling it out, she rolled her eyes with a small smile when she saw the two piece lingerie set Rafe had nestled at the bottom, comprised of black lace and gossamer.

Sofia laughed softly, as she put the piece along with the rest of her gifts– maybe she already had a way to pay him back, one that was much more fun than working double shifts at the club.

꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥 ｡𖦹꣑ৎ˚⊹ 🍥

[half-oz-eddie]

i'll believe you when you're sober

E Rating Tags: Drunk Evan "Buck" Buckley, Fix-It, Frottage, Reconciliation, Dubious Consent

Every night feels quiet and monotonous. No one to yap his ear off with random trivia. No one to insist on massaging his scalp in the shower after a long shift. No Evan.

It's all Tommy's fault, he knows, but he constantly tells himself that it was for the best. It was the right thing. Even if every sunset is a vicious cycle of endless darkness. He's not sleeping as well without the goodnight kiss…and another…and another…and one more. He's not eating as well with out the "is this sauce too spicy?" "no it's perfect" pasta. Tommy's just not the same anymore.

At 10:40, he dragged himself to bed and tried to sleep on what used to be Evan's side. All it does is make him miss him more. Dream about him more. Toss and turn without him more.

He stared at the ceiling, ready for another sleepless night.

He slowly turned his head toward the night table, following the sound of his phone vibrating.

The number on the screen was unfamiliar, but at 11 PM, it had to be a mistake, or an emergency.

He answered either way.

"Hello?"

"Hey, yeah…are you Tommy?" A man on the other end of the phone asked.

"Yes? Who's calling?"

"My name is Greg, I'm a bartender at Bigg's Bar. I've got a guy, Buck, at the bar who's been disturbing the patrons and crying over you. He's had too much to drink so I suggested giving you a call. Can you come pick him up?"

"…Buck? Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he almost got into a fight with some guy over…the moon, or something. Anyway, can you get him out of here? It's almost last call."

Tommy had to shake off the momentary shock. "Uh…Yeah, I'll be there as soon as possible."

The call ended and Tommy rushed to put on some clothes, any clothes. He put on one black sock and one white sock, some grey sweats that were a bit snug and Buck's favorite hoodie. He'd be sure to explain to Buck why he still had it once he was sober.

Bigg's was a 30 minute commute from Tommy's, but Tommy was sure to get there as quickly as possible.

He rushed inside and immediately approached the bartender. "You called me? About Buck?"

"Oh, yeah, he's over there." Greg pointed to the end of the bar to a man with his head resting on his arm and a glass of water in front of him. "Buck? Buck." Tommy nudged him.

"Mmh…" Buck mumbled as he slowly sat up. His heavy, glossy eyes went wide. "To-Tommy?"

Tommy nodded. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here before you get in trouble." Tommy attempted to help Buck off the bar stool, only to receive no cooperation.

Buck yanked his arm out of Tommy's grasp. "I don't…wanna go with you."

Tommy felt his heart sink immediately. He knew all along Buck hated him, but this was proof. "Why?" He asked, knowing the question was pointless.

"Because you hate me. You don't want me."

"Listen, I don't hate you, okay? And I'm not leaving without you."

Buck whimpered and put his head back down. "M'not going."

"Please." Tommy sighed. "You can't stay here all night, they want you to go."

Buck snickered. "So nobody wants me."

"Just let me take you home, okay? I promise I don't mind."

Buck slowly sat up and allowed Tommy to escort him out of the bar. Tommy strapped Buck into his backseat and handed him a plastic bag from one of his grocery shopping trips earlier that week.

"If you need me to stop or slow down, just say so."

Buck mumbled something as his head bobbed to the side, gently knocking against the window.

Tommy began driving, occasionally glancing back at Buck, who hadn't said a single word since they left the bar.

"I told him…" Buck slurred.

"Told who?" Tommy asked.

"The guy…at the bar. I told him…there were active volcanoes on the moon and he…he said I sounded stupid. You…never called me stupid." "You're not stupid, Buck."

"Can we go to your house?"

"Why my house?" Tommy narrowed his eyes into the rear view mirror.

"Wanna…use the white noise machine."

Tommy did not want to bring Buck to his house, but he also did want to bring Buck to his house.

"Fine." He acquiesced.

Tommy drove Buck back to his house, helped him out of his clothes and into the bed. He turned on the white noise machine and tucked Buck in securely.

"I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"No!" Buck exclaimed, grabbing his hand. "Stay with me."

Tommy shook his head. "I can't sleep here with you."

"Why?" Buck whined. "Y'don't wanna?"

He did wanna. Very much so. He craved nights like this every night since he broke up with Buck. But he didn't think he deserved it.

"No. You're drunk. I don't think you'd want to sleep next to me if you were sober."

"Please." Buck begged. "I've missed you so bad. I just want to lay next to you. One more time."

Tommy joined Buck in the bed, against his better judgement.

He let Buck flop into his arm and nuzzle against his cheek.

“Goodnight kiss.” Buck mumbled.

Tommy slowly turned to Buck. A kiss is just a kiss, right? No big deal. They’ve done it a hundred times. Maybe even more.

Tommy planted a soft, chaste kiss on Buck’s lips.

“Another.” He agreed. “Another.” Of course. “One more.” Anything he wanted.

Until Buck rolled on top of him, the chaste kisses becoming slow, passionate and sloppy.

It was the kiss he remembered. The taste he remembered. The tongue he remembered. The Evan he remembered. It was so good, it made him moan.

But they hadn’t discussed the breakup. This wasn’t something that could be left in the past and forgotten. They were too broken to be here. He didn’t deserve these kisses.

Buck slid his hand down, freeing their cocks from the restricting shorts that kept them separated from one another, grinding against Tommy slowly and lazily.

He didn’t deserve the feeling of Evan’s cock slowly gliding against his own, so slick and wet and eager to push inside him.

“E-Ev—baby. We-we shouldn’t.” He moaned, attempting to refuse himself the oncoming orgasm. He didn’t deserve this.

“Tommy.” Buck whined. “I needed you. Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” His moan was a little louder than he anticipated. His cock was sputtering and leaking weeks of pent up precome.

“You’ve never been this hard before.” Buck whispered with a smirk he couldn’t see in the darkness.

“We’ve been apart for a long time.” Tommy admitted, gripping Buck’s ass and grinding up against him, meeting his movements.

Tommy should have been focused on other things. You are so drunk, I had to scrape you off a bar stool. We aren’t together anymore. What are we even doing?

But all he could focus on was—

“I’m gonna come!” Tommy moaned. “Don’t stop.”

“Come for me, daddy. Yeah. You feel so good.” Buck praised. He leaned into Tommy’s neck, softly biting his sensitive skin.

Tommy let out a guttural groan as his cock spilled between them, and Buck soon followed, continuing to slowly grind against Tommy, kissing him until they both had nothing left.

Buck rolled onto the pillow and sighed happily. “Man. I really needed that.”

Tommy slowly sat up. “I’m gonna go get something to clean us up with.”

“Don’t be gone long, baby. I wanna talk to you.”

Tommy wasn’t in much of a rush to return. Buck was drunk. There was no way they could have a decent conversation like this.

He returned, hoping Buck was sound asleep, slightly disappointed when Buck turned toward him as he cleaned him off.

“Tommy.” Buck mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you so much. I love you…so much.”

“I’m sorry, Evan.” Tommy said sincerely. “But I don’t think you know what you’re saying right now. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“Mmh. I do.” Buck weakly argued. “I mean it.”

“Okay. I will believe you when you’re sober.”

“Kiss me.”

Tommy offered Buck one more kiss. Two more kisses. Three more kisses. Ambushed when Buck pulled him in for a fourth, smiling against his lips as if he’d won something.

Tommy didn’t deserve to feel like a prize.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Evan.”

Tommy lied flat on his back and Buck rolled into his arms, lazily peppering kisses on Tommy’s cheek until he fell asleep.

Tommy could feel Buck’s breathing evening out and his breath tickling his cheek.

It was nice. And he didn’t deserve it at all.

The following morning, Tommy woke up in bed alone. He’d be able to convince himself that last night was a dream if Buck’s cologne didn’t linger on his sheets and on his skin.

This is exactly what he deserved. Buck obviously came to his senses when he woke up and realized this was a drunken mistake.

Tommy dragged himself downstairs to make some coffee. There was no way he was going to make it through the day without a cup or two.

He didn’t expect his door to swing open the moment he reached the counter.

“Oh h-hey, good morning.” Buck greeted. “I thought you’d still be asleep before I got back.” He lifted the bag in his hand. “I went to get us some breakfast, to thank you and apologize for last night. I-I don’t remember everything, but I know you picked me up before I did something I would regret. So, thank you.”

“Thank Greg.”

“Greg?”

“The bartender. He said you were crying over me and asked me to get you out of the bar. I felt responsible.”

“Yeah.” Buck laughed. “I uh…I memorized your number in case anything ever happened. Since we’re both first responders…” He trailed off, sighing. “So. Hungry?”

“Yeah. Thank you. I’ll make us some coffee.”

“So…about last night.” Buck began. “I don’t really remember everything. Did we…”

Tommy nodded.

“I figured. Did I say anything stupid?”

“You told me you love me.”

“W—hey, that’s not stupid.” Buck frowned.

“When you’re drunk and don’t mean it, it is.”

“I did mean it.”

Tommy shook his head. “You don’t.”

“Tommy. I’m not stupid. Or confused. I do love you.”

“I never said you were any of those things. I just don’t think you can love me for everything I am when I’ve been holding so much back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I feel like I’ve…" Tommy sighed. "I've conditioned myself to be a good boyfriend. To be right. To be perfect. And in the process of all that. I don’t know if I’m ever really…myself. I’m afraid to let go. To unwind. To not be the confident, comfortable person. I’ve tried to be everything you were attracted to, but I can’t be that all the time. And when that veil is pulled away, I’ll lose you. You’ll lose interest.”

“Don’t you think I want to see more of that? It’s okay to fall apart in my arms, and give me a chance to love you unconditionally. That’s what I want to do. I want to see you. All of you.”

“You only think you do.”

“I know you’ll have a moment of weakness. Everyone does. I’ve seen it before. You’ve questioned your place in the 118 family more than once, and I’m always here to remind you how special you are. Beyond all the cool things you do. I just—I want to love everything about you.”

Buck nervously watched Tommy. He was quiet. Pensive. It made Buck’s grip tighten so much on his coffee cup, he could’ve cracked it.

“I told you last night that I would believe you when you were sober.”

“So…do you believe me?”

Tommy nodded. “I do, and I love you too. I don't ever want to let you go again."

Buck smiled. "Hey ca-can we have sex?"

"That's your first order of business?" Tommy snorted.

"I just wanna remember it this time! And maybe it'll help with my hangover."

"Can we finish breakfast first?"

Buck's sweet smile turned into a mischievous smirk that Tommy knew all too well. Before he knew it, he was being dragged upstairs by his collar.

"We can finish breakfast later."

Give me kudos <3

[leighsartworks216]

Not Tonight. Not To You. Never Again.

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader (can possibly be read as platonic)

Something something Astarion would kill anybody who tries to take your drink at a party something something

I started this while sitting in the car doing laundry, and I'm finishing this while very sleepy. It was half proofread, again bc I'm sleepy

THIS FIC CONTAINS THEMES OF DATE-RAPE DRUGGING AND SEXUAL ASSAULT

Warnings: drugging, references to sexual assault, swearing, blood, murder, slight protective Astarion, no actual assault happens, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,374

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You blinked as the world tilted on its axis, blurring at the edges of your vision, before it stood upright again, only slightly hazy. Had you really had that many drinks tonight? It didn't seem like it. Maybe this tavern's brew was stronger than you were used to?

"Everythin’ alright? You look a bit sick."

You look up at Karlach with a reassuring grin. You hated to worry any of your friends, but least of all the tiefling. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and you'd hate to see it crack. "I'm fine. Think I should head to bed - this stuff is stronger than I thought it would be."

She frowned. "Really?" She peered into her tankard, confused. "Seemed a bit weak to me."

You chuckle. It sounded distant. "Guess I'm a bit of a lightweight." You push your mug away and stand on shaky legs, using the table for support. "Goodnight, everyone."

Those who hear you bid you goodnight as well, some raising their ales in gratitude and others teasing you about not being able to hold your liquor. Astarion stares at you like he's studying you, brow pinched tight. You offer him a smile, before doing your best to stumble toward the stairs.

Halfway there, a waiter comes to your side, wrapping an arm around you and smiling brightly. You recognized him through the fog in your vision; he'd been the one to serve you drinks. "Need a hand there, hero?"

You laugh, world spinning once more as you allow yourself to lean into his support. "A hero that can't hold their liquor," you drawl. "Some hero, eh?"

He chuckles by your ear. He bears most of your weight as he helps you up each well-worn step, steering you toward your room. How'd he know which one was yours? "I hardly think it affects the world's view of you," he assures. "After all, you did save Faerûn."

"It-" Your body lurched forward, all of your limbs turning to lead. The world continued to swirl and wave and twist, until you couldn't distinguish up from down or left from right. Black spots began dotting your vision, blocking out some of the vertigo. Your stomach churned, your head ached. "'t wasn' jus' me..."

"C'mon, love. Your room is just here. Let's get you to bed."

A bedroom spun in your vision, but not for long. The last thing you saw was the waiter's grinning face as you fell to the floor, too weak to stand any longer and too dizzy to stay upright if you had.

Where....

........... Astarion.........?

-

"Tav?" Something cold touches your face. "Darling, wake up."

"Mmnf..."

"That's it. You're safe now."

You blinked open your eyes but winced at the light that greeted you. You heard a soft hiss.

"Is that better?"

You tried again, and were grateful to find it was no longer so bright. You looked around, trying to get a sense of your surroundings.

"You're in your room." Astarion sneered, glaring at something on the floor. "But we should move you to mine before you try sleeping again.”

“Mm? Why..?” You groan as you sit up. Your body feels so heavy, like it was made entirely of stone. Astarion helped you up with a hand to your back. You followed where his gaze had been. Laying face down on the floor, in a puddle of blood, was… the waiter? You blinked stupidly at the corpse. “What happened?”

Once he was sure you wouldn’t fall backwards, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Bastard drugged you. Gods know what he would have done to you if I hadn’t followed you up.”

Your brain was still slow, trying to piece together what had happened before this. You remember celebrating a battle won. You’d bought drinks for everyone, and… You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as bile rose to your throat. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped. “I-I thought the drinks were just strong, I-”

He carefully touches your arm. “It’s not your fault, love. No doubt he’d gotten good at tricking people.”

You shook your head, looking at him with wide, lost eyes. “What if he’d drugged you? Or Karlach or Shadowheart or- or-!”

He scoffed in disbelief, nose scrunching. “You just got drugged and nearly assaulted, and all you’re worried about is what could have happened if it’d been one of us? Darling, please, have a little perspective.”

You grimace as you glance back at the body. The sight of the blood or the corpse itself doesn’t bother you anymore. But the thought of what could have happened sat thick and unpleasant in your stomach. You grab his hand from your arm and hold it in your lap, fiddling with his long fingers to distract yourself. “How did you know to… To follow?”

“Well, for one, I trust Karlach knows when an ale is strong. Two, I’ve seen you hold your own against her in your little drinking games before. And three…” He curls his fingers around your hands, stopping your fiddling and rubbing a thumb along your knuckles. “I’ve seen men like him play this same game before. Too many times. I wasn’t going to risk it happening to you, too.”

A chill runs through your body. You lean forward to press your forehead against his neck. He hesitantly brings up a hand to run along your back, holding you to him. “Thank you,” you murmur. You bury your face further into him. “Gods, I can’t believe I…” You sigh, soft and shaky, dread overwhelming you as the reality of what happened sunk in. “Thank you, Astarion.”

“As much as I’d love to sit here all night, listening to you praise me over and over for the hero I am,” he teases, earning a quiet huff from you, “you need to sleep. And not here.” He gently pulls you away from him and stands from the bed, squeezing your hands before he lets go. “We’ll just tuck you in down the hall, I’ll go downstairs and scold the others for being too careless, inform the innkeeper of his employee’s exploits - perhaps even get paid for doing so - and then we can get the Hells out of here come first light.”

You chuckled softly. He helped you stand, an arm around your waist keeping you steady as he walked you around the body and out the door. “And if I want you to stay?”

He hums as though the thought never crossed his mind, before sighing overdramatically. “Then I’ll just have to get paid for my bold rescue in the morning. I suppose it can wait until then. I won’t be cleaning up that mess anyway.”

He unlocks his door at the end of the hall and guides you to the bed, setting you down on the edge. You clumsily kick your boots off and he sets them by the door, toeing his off right next to them. You plop back into the pillows, giving in to the weight in your bones. He huffs a laugh at how pathetic you look, but it’s far more endearing than he wishes to admit.

You do your best to get comfortable under the thick duvet the inn provided, sinking into the warmth it offered. He easily slithered in beside you, touching you almost pensively as you turn into him and cuddle close to his chest. You’re so warm. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, the other draped over your waist, keeping you close. Keeping you safe.

Even just thinking about what could have happened if he hadn’t had the good sense to follow fills him with rage. He should have torn that bastard apart, piece by piece, until he only knows pain and remorse for every single victim that came before. But you’re safe, and that’s what really matters, more than his own revenge.

You press your nose against his neck, hot breaths fanning across his skin. He could almost feel the brush of your lips as you murmured another thank you. Your arms slipped around his middle, wrapping around him so you were as close as possible. You muttered another thanks, and another, and another, until exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you fell asleep in his arms.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted

[mariariley]

how do you think the 141 guys would answer your ft calls?

141 x reader

answering your ft calls

Word count: 0.7k

masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3

Ghost

Probably won’t answer (hates fting (just like me))

If you’re pushy enough and keep calling him he just might answer because he would start getting paranoid it’s something urgent

Would tell you to fuck off if you just wanted to bother him (nothing personal, it would be sarcastic)

Will stay in the call though and it would probably end up being like 3 hours long

As time would pass perhaps he would start answering more often

He isn’t a fan of calling or texting or any of that stuff to be completely honest

But he just might do it for you

🖤

Soap

Is probably always asleep when you call him in his free time

Always answers anyway

It’s hard to get off the call though, blud just keeps talking

Will definitely bring his phone to the toilet and take a piss while still talking to you (you’d have to remind him to wash his hands every time)

Will always tell you to turn on the lights if you’re in the dark so he can see your pretty face

His fav thing to do is watch you show him what new stuff you bought

If you wear makeup, he would love seeing you do it

As your partner he would definitely be into freaky facetiming

Loves texting and calling in general, he’s a spammer when it comes to that

🖤

Gaz

Answers most of the time

Even when he doesn’t he apologizes over text messages and calls you back

Mostly outside when you call him so expect a journey through the city and subway with him

Loves staying with you on ft till late hours, just blabbering about anything

Would send kisses over the camera

Would watch movies and series with you while facetiming

You’d probably always be the first one to fall asleep because he would stay up on purpose to take screenshots and send them to you

Has a whole album of you being asleep on ft named “<3” (I promise it’s not creepy it’s just cute)

Though when he’d fall asleep first he would love you to do the same, he finds it wholesome

🖤

Price

Old bloke not a fan of ft

He isn’t that much of a boomer but definitely not a fan of some newer generation stuff

He would know how to answer but it would still look a little goofy because he’d always answer with “Can ya hear me/see me, luv?” or “How copy, luv?”

He’d ask you why you’re doing this because he doesn’t understand the point of face timing, he prefers regular calls

Though sometimes he would love to sit back and relax and just enjoy your blabbering and admire your beauty

Would always complain how he prefers seeing you in person because the front camera makes people look weird

🖤

Alejandro

Would always be happy when you call him

Is probably always cooking when you call him and, even when he isn’t, he would answer and go to the kitchen

Loves showing you new recipes he found and loves describing every ingredient

Probably one of his fav things to do with you when you’re physically distant - cooking facetime!

Loves dancing and singing while cooking so expect a ft concert too (you can never be bored with him)

Loves long fts so expect him to not let you hang up because he always finds an interesting subject to talk about

In the end he would always tell you how much he misses you being next to him

🖤

Rudy

Answers immediately. One ring and he’s there

The moment you call him he would leave everything and get in bed and ft with you forever if possible

Would also watch movies and series with you while facetiming

He knows how to play an acoustic guitar so one of his favorite things to do is play it and sing for you

It would mostly be some of his favorite slow and romantic Mexican songs

He likes to do this in the evening because it feels like he’s singing you a lullaby

So if you’d fall asleep to his singing, his heart would be full

He’d always whisper goodnight before hanging up

Divider owners already tagged in my previous posts, I don’t want to spam them 🖤

[rubyvhs]

blowing smoke [sam winchester]

masterlist request summary: you’ve liked sam ever since you’ve known him and now he’s interested in this ‘nelly’ girl.

tags: mutual pinning, cursing, said short but it’s a ‘jared’ short so you’re shorter than 6’4.

If you ever see Nelly Smith again, it’ll be too soon. Way too fucking soon. Granted, you’ve only met her a couple of times, but it’s more than enough to see her for who she is, which is nothing, she’s as shallow as they come. 

This isn’t to shame her per se, she's a great hunter considering each time you met her she’s saved your ass. And this time wasn't any different, except that she’s saved you, Sam and Dean, but she’s not an incredible human being either. 

Because, first of all, when has anyone ever accepted a ‘do you want to stay over’ invite? Sam and Dean were being polite after she saved your lives when Sam had offered for her to crash at the bunker till the morning. Completely polite. And you’re sure he assumed she would decline anyways. A usual, ‘thanks but I have a motel’. 

Instead she was all smiles and grateful as she stroked Sam’s arm to emphasize her thanks. Which, totally unnecessary, lady. She drives back with the three of you, behind your car, and parks just outside the bunker. She says she’ll leave in the morning when Sam shows her to Cass’s room that they never use, but at least it’s clean enough for a human being to inhabit. Dean says he’ll grab new sheets and you’re staring daggers at her. 

You’re not an unkind person, in fact, everyone that’s met you has said nothing but nice things about you, but she’s just not clicking. Everything she says and does makes you hate her a little more. Which is why you take Dean’s place and get the sheets instead as you tell him that he’s already tired enough as is. He accepts, hugs you quickly in appreciation and heads to his room. Probably for a shower. You’re all due a good, long shower after the ghoul insides decorating you. 

“Here,” you smile tightly, it’s less of a smile and more of you pursing your lips in challenge. She catches the sheets with a charming grin and nods, thanking you. Sam passes by the room after his five minute shower to catch the scene and rushes to help her like the sweet guy he is. 

He doesn’t scowl at you for being rude or anything, he just assists her with no complaint and then you both leave her room with a faint goodnight. That’s when you decide to ask what the hell is going on. You know you don’t have the right to do that, you’re as much of an intruder as she is— but still! 

“Is she actually staying here?” Sam’s eyes widen a little and he looks over at you as he walks you to your room, which is across from his. “I mean like, you’re so nice to her.”

“Yeah, she’s a hunter— a friend,” a friend? Might as well bake her a cake at this fucking point. A friend? What’s next, they’ll fuck?

Okay, in your defense, you were being sarcastic. You didn’t think you’d actually wake up at five in the morning to see a freshly showered Nelly walk out of Sam’s room. She spots you as you open your door, jaw on the floor, and buttons up her shirt, no, Sam’s shirt. “Morning, honey! Didn’t know you woke up so early.”

“Yeah,” you look her up and down, just once, and she looks great. Her hair’s perfect and she’s wearing her own jeans that fit just right, you can’t blame Sam. “Morning to you too.”

“I’ll head to my room. Sleep a few hours before I hit the road, you know.” You can’t even be mad at her anymore, you’re just upset, like there’s a churning in your stomach, deep inside, and everytime you think about it it hurts a thousand times more. 

Just as she’s about to bolt, you assume he heard the commotion, and Sam opens his door. “What’s— oh, hey,” he addresses you and you give him something that resembles a greeting for one second before you mumble about a shower and shut your door closed. 

What. Is. Happening. One night stands? Totally Dean’s thing, not Sam’s. Never Sam’s. And you were so grateful about it, too, considering you’ve been in love with him for years. But where do you find the time to tell someone that when they’re being attacked constantly? 

And now that things… well, they haven’t settled, but they’re not as chaotic thanks to Chuck leaving. Everyone’s hunting and happy, still on the lookout, but you guys escaped his ‘welcome to the end’ charade, the Winchesters are free to be happy, and you’ve been invading Sam’s space more often these past days. Trying to give him hints, trying to make progress. 

He’s been giving them back, or you thought he had. You’d even found Eileen and brought her back to life but instead of him jumping into her arms, she stayed for a few days and left to keep hunting. Everything is supposed to finally frickin’ click between you guys, you’re done! And yet, of course, it doesn’t.

You actually do decide to take that shower and it calms you down a lot more than you’d like to admit. You’d have probably done soemthing stupid if you didn’t take it before you left your room— like choke Nelly. Or kiss Sam. Both are equally catastrophic.

As you’re drying your hair in between a towel, walking into the kitchen, you see Dean already on the stove. “Hey, De.” Your eyes gleam as you notice the pancakes he’s hovering over. “No way, is there enough?”

He faces you, and nods. Looks like he’s still asleep. “You okay?”

“I couldn’t sleep a fucking second with Sam and Nelly going at it all night.” Your blood runs cold and you try to shrug it off. Oh god, seriously? All night? Come on, no way. There’s no doubt in your mind Sam can make it that good but he must’ve liked— practically loved Nelly to stay that long. 

“All night?” You repeat and its a little pathetic so you decide to straighten up and shake your head, willing the thoughts to go away. “What are we gonna do today?” You ask before he can comment on your first statement.

He gives you a look before going back to flipping the pancake. “Nothin’ that I’m aware of. I’ll try to find a hunt but we could wait until tomorrow.” You could, considering the only reason you took a hunt in the first place was because of the proximity, you’re in no rush to find another one. All of you kind of enjoy the quiet. 

“Why are you up so early, though?” He shrugs, placing the last one on a plate and turning off the fire. Three incredibly full plates of pancakes. Dean’s been awake for a while. “Seriously? Talk to me.”

“I told you.”

“Liar. You could’ve picked another room.” The only reason Dean heard everything is because his vents are connected to Sam’s, which is the way he likes it. So Sam’s far away from the entrance in case anything comes in, but He’ll wake up if anything tries to take him. 

“It’s fine.” You don’t push after that cause Dean’s  scary in the morning and if he has a serious problem he would let you guys know. He would let Sam know. 

Speaking of the devil (unironically), he comes into the kitchen, his eyes scanning the counter. You wave at him wordlessly and start on the, no doubt, delicious breakfast Dean prepared. Obviously it needs some white chocolate sauce, but to do that you’d need to stand up and go get it— not exactly appealing. Eating it half dry? Yeah, more appealing.

Until you find your favorite sauce container right next to your plate and when you look up Sam’s smiling at you. Yeah, not that easy, pal, but good try. You take it from him with a murmured thanks and add an unhealthy amount. Drowning your sorrows in chocolate, no better way to start the day.

It’s a slow day. No matter what Dean said you didn’t expect that he’d actually wait for a day before finding a hunt. But that not what’s actually bothering you, no, worse than all this sitting at home doing nothing is frickin Nelly sleeping in the bunker still. It’s been four hours. How long does she plan on sleeping? On staying? 

Someone should probably wake her up and make her leave. For her safety, of course, you wouldn’t want her to drive after daylight, what with all the things that go bumping in the night. 

Dean comes to sit next to you on the couch in the… entertainment room? Playroom? (You’re not calling it the Dean Cave if your life depends on it) “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” he offers his beer and you just shake your head. “What’re you doing here?”

“Why’s Nelly here?” Oh God. Someone shut you up. Immediately. “I’m sorry—”

“Nah, it’s okay. I knew you’d break eventually. She’s supposed to leave today anyway.”

“Break?”

“Yeah. You like Sam, he’s sleeping with Nelly, ‘course you want her gone.” Your eyebrows furrow and your pout deepens but the time you face him. He’s about to take a sip from his beer like it doesn’t matter when you snatch it out of his hand to drown most of it. 

When you’re done you aggressively place it on the table, “what did you mean?”

“Oh, come on!” You snap your fingers once in his face so he can focus on you, causing him to flap his hand to brush yours away, “you’re a bitch when you want to be, you know that? Come on, everyone knows you like Sam.”

“That’s bullshit—”

“Fine, then call Jody and ask her!”

“Dean,” You’re much more stern this time and he actually scoots back to answer.

“Look, it ain’t a secret. You like Sam, he likes you. That’s all.” You shake your head. “I don’t know why he slept with Nelly, okay? Stupid move, you should probably try to talk to him.” With an unspoken and leave me alone. 

Which fine, fuck you Dean, you will be doing exactly that. You look for Sam everywhere only to pass by his room, the last place you’ll be looking, and find an actual fucking purse on the door. Not even a sock, her whole damn purse. What does that mean? She knows it’s supposed to be a sock, right? 

And then you hear it. Her moans. Her “oh, Sam, oh!” And Sam’s grunts, his groans as he pounds into her and “so good, baby.”

God no. You’re a damn hunter, there’s no way you’re tearing up listening to people have sex. You immediately run into your own room to slam the door and fight to brush your feelings. He isn’t doing the one night stand thing, no, Sam is doing the ‘I like you so I’m going to fuck you’ thing. Which means whatever you thought you guys had, or whatever feelings you thought were there, you’d made up. Everything had been in your head. The touches and the kisses on the cheek— all strictly platonic in a ‘i see you as my sister’ way. 

Everytime he leaned down to kiss your cheek you were thinking about spending the night with him while his thoughts were more along the lines of: “love having a little sister”.

And of course it makes sense, why else would he let you stay at the bunker and be so comfortable around you? It’s because he doesn’t care what you think of him. Everything. The past years, every time it’s been a step closer to heartbreak. Every single time you thought you had a chance, you didn’t.

“Hey,” You hear none other than Sam’s knock on your door, shouting your name just loud enough for you to hear him, “you in there?”

“Come in.” You reply and wash your face in the sink quickly before he can notice your red eyes and teared up face. “Hey, Sam.” It comes out naturally with your eyes still shut until you grab the hem of your shirt to dry your face. What’s the point, right? He doesn’t see it that way.

When you open your eyes he’s staring at you. At you, since his eyes are on your body, not face. “Sam? You okay? What did you need?”

“You— I was worried about you. I heard the door slam and I thought something was wrong.” As if the only guy you’ve ever seriously liked not feeling anything towards you isn’t embarrassing enough, now he thinks you’re childish too. 

“No, I’m great. Thanks for checking in. Sorry for interrupting—” Oh shit. You slowly scrunch your face as if that’ll help you disappear. He didn’t even know that you knew that they were together. Wait, does that mean he left her to come check on you? Was she already finished? Was he finished?

“Interrupting what?”

“Your… alone time.”

“I wasn’t alone, don’t worry. But if there’s something wrong you should tell me.” He runs a hand through his hair so it’s out of his face and when you look at him, really look at him, you can see just how incredibly soft his features are. It’s always been such a drastic contrast from how sharp Dean’s are. Sam’s jawline is the only exception but somehow it doesn’t change the overall tone.

“Okay.” You retort quietly. It’s either that or scream at him to leave. “Did you need anything else?”

“Come on—” And then he stops, sighs and shakes his head, “meet us in the library, we’re looking for a hunt.”

“I’ll look for one in here.”

“Seriously, why are you acting like this?” He snaps facing you aggressively. Sam’s always talked with his hands which you found endearing, that and how expressive he is, tone wise and facial expressions too, it helps you read him which calms you down beyond belief, you don’t like to be left out of someone’s thoughts about a situation you’re both in. 

“Like what?”

“Like— I don’t know, bratty!” Bratty? Bratty is what Dean calls Sam. It’s not what Sam calls you.

You grit your teeth, “Fuck you, Sam. Get out.” He storms out like you asked but leaves the door open. Which means when you go to close it you spot Nelly sitting on Sam’s bed, on her phone. 

Naked. And alone. So where did Sam storm off to? The library leaving Nelly alone? You don’t know whether that rubs you the right way or not because on one hand, he left her to come check on you, on the other, he trusts her to stay in his room without supervision. Since when does he trust people two days into knowing them?

Well, the rest of the day doesn’t go any better, because after you see him retreat into his room one more time, you beg Dean to go out with you so you can leave the house to them. He agrees, mostly for your sanity, and you run to your room to get dressed.

Then, and this is completely normal, you stop in front of Sam’s room to see if you can hear anything and thank god you couldn’t. Again, totally normal to check, just in case. So you get dressed, run over to the garage where Dean is sending a quick ‘going out’ text to Sam. You’re both in the car and the second you’re out of the bunker you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hey, it can’t be that bad.”

“You have no idea how I feel with her in his room the entire day. It’s already three, shouldn’t she have left by now?” Dean chuckles as he takes a sharp turn, away from the road. The only reason cars don’t pop up by the bunker is because it’s a broken down road, unless you take the path the MoL paved in the forest behind it.

“Yeah, she’ll probably be gone by the time we’re back. But you shouldn’t let it bother you so much, don’t let him affect you like this.”

You frown and lean back against the window to face Dean who’s giving his full attention to the rocky road, “what is this, cheap therapy? No way! I am so letting it affect me. I’ve liked Sam for so long and it’s annoying that he’d just— I mean, he could at least hide it. Take it to her room or something, but instead it’s right in my face.”

Dean tries to say something before you cut in, another loud complaint, “Dean, I heard her. Heard.”

“Heard her? Why were you standing outside his room?” You roll your eyes and huff as you throw yourself against the seat. That’s not the point. “You’re letting it get to you and it’s not healthy.”

“Look, I obviously want him to be happy. He deserves it. And if he’s happy with Nelly I would’ve taken my complaints to the grave, but it’s a casual thing considering they’ve known each other for, what, two days?” 

“Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s fine, I’d want you to tell me what you’re thinking anyways. You’re not fun when you bottle things up.” Says the king of it. But you don’t mention that, just grunt when he gets back on the road. “We’re going on a supply run, by the way.”

You nod absentmindedly and get on your phone. You see a message from Sam and your heart immediately seizes up. 

You could’ve talked to me instead of running out.

About what?

Whatever is making you act like this.

Like what?

Bitchy.

If your dropped jaw was anything to go by, Dean knew you were texting Sam. Which is why he snatches the phone from your hand.

“Don’t let it—”

“If you say affect me one more time, Dean Winchester I will fucking—”

“Alright alright, calm down.” And it’s maybe the calmest you’ll get. With the smoke coming out of your ears and your whole face a tomato shade of red.

“No, I just don’t get it!” You say exasperatedly as you get out of the impala and walk with Dean as he unloads the groceries from the trunk.

“Seriously?” You were just talking about a hunt that he’d picked up on and somehow you’d found a way to make it about Sam. “I swear if you don’t tell Sam how you feel I will.” You gasp like he admitted to something much worse and he rolls his eyes, motioning at you to close the trunk since his hands are full and you haven’t bothered offering help. 

“You wouldn’t! He’s happy now with fucking Nelly or whatever. And you know what? I so don’t care.”

“You talk like a twelve year old.”

“You act like one.”

Sam stops you right before you both enter the kitchen, “Alright, children, let’s not fight.” Which makes both of you mock him as you walk past him. 

You can’t help it when the words tumble out of your mouth, “Where’s Nelly?” And you can’t exactly help it when you say her name like that either. 

“Gone. Found a hunt nearby and said to tell you both goodbye.” Oh thank God. Because no matter how confident you act in front of Dean, you were freakin’ terrified he’d actually end up liking her. Sex you can try to write off but keeping her here is more. “Sucks. Seemed like you liked having her around.” You say, giving him your back to put the groceries in their place, mostly just to have something to do with yourself. 

“She’s kind.” Kind your ass. Her moans? Way too exaggerated. She wanted you to know he was with her. Which makes no sense because in the end she’s the one who left and you’re the one who gets to stay. You don’t notice how close Sam is walking towards you until you turn around and he has to hold you so you don’t fall over in surprise, “But she pissed you off.”

You shake your head automatically. He’s standing way too close. Where’s Dean? You look around and— yeah, the asshole’s gone. “You called me a bitch.” Much like all your words, you blurt it. Like you don’t know what’s coming out of your mouth next and you want to make sure you can get all of it out.

“I didn’t. I said you’re acting bitchy. Which you were, and you wouldn’t even tell me why, pretty girl.” That’s a new nickname. ‘Sweetheart’ you’ve heard multiple times, even grown accustomed to. But it’s generic to the Winchesters. It’s what they call anyone with two legs (or four wheels… or a barrel).

“I— I don’t know, she was here and you…” and it comes to you again, forcing you back from his grip. He can’t put you under a trance like that! He fucked another girl, in the room opposite to yours and called you a bitch? No way were you forgiving him. Not without an apology, at least. “You called me a bitch!”

He lets out a small laugh, “I didn’t— whatever, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but you can’t avoid me when you don’t like something.”

“Sleeping with someone to make me jealous? How am I supposed to not ignore you.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you jealous.”

“Well Nelly was! With her— her, loud moans or whatever and she’s so whiny.” She wasn’t. Or if she was, you wouldn’t have heard it, but you’ve already made up your mind about this and there’s no way you’re taking it back now. 

You walk away from him to the library. It’s neutral ground, the kitchen feels like he’ll suffocate you in there. “Come on, she wasn’t trying anything,” he says, walking behind you. Before you reach the steps to the main door he pulls your arm, “stop it. She wasn’t. And I wasn’t either— why would you even be jealous?”

“Why would I— why are you clueless?” Maybe you do talk like a twelve year old when you’re angry, but it doesn’t change the fact that your argument is right. “We— i mean, I thought I was so obvious, Sam! I tried telling you how I felt, I practically all but threw myself onto you and you didn’t even care. And that’s okay, you don’t feel the same way, but don’t get angry at me for wanting to protect myself from—”

Sam Winchester is kissing you, as much of a kiss as anything. He wraps his lips around your top one, pulling you in closer by your waist and you let yourself melt in his grip. He doesn’t seem to mind, pushing you towards the table and you jump to sit on it, he takes a second to pull away and smile at you. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper, out of breath even if it’s only been a few seconds. He seems to recover faster, only to smirk and invade your space again. You let your hands wander in his hair, Sam’s best feature (no matter what Dean says) because you can feel just how soft and velvety it actually is, you run your fingers through it, using it to push him down to you. Even when you’re sitting on the table you’re still a few inches shorter.

“Sam,” you breathe out against his lips, he’s becoming reckless and quick, pulling you and practically carrying you away from the table. “Sam.” He slowly nods, pulling away before leaning in for a another kiss to solidify the others and then he stands up. 

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, confused. Oh, he’s talking about Nelly. 

“What does that mean? For us.” You ask, your hand coming down to rest on his cheek, as if it’ll make him give you a better answer. An answer that won’t result in your heart breaking because you’ve kissed. You’ve officially felt Sam’s kisses first hand. You can’t go back.

“That I— I want you here, always.” And it says a hell of a lot more than if he’d said he loves you. Because you already know that. You know it no matter how fucked up things get between you. “And I wanted you to see that.”

“I know,” it hurts to think he used Nelly to get to you but maybe it was the push you need. Not that there’s time to think about it because he’s already bringing your waist closer to his, slowly moving his hips against yours. “Sammy,” you let out, your head falling back. “Sam, my room.” 

He smiles like he’s won a prize you didn’t know was on the table before helping you to the ground, only to push you onto the wall right next to it, another deep kiss—

“For fucks sake, Sammy.” You laugh against Sam’s lips as Dean groans, walking into the kitchen. 

title: blowing smoke by gracie abrams

This was a request, hope you liked it! If you wanna be tagged for anything and everything Sam Winchester, comment! Also this is maybe as much smut as I’ll do, I’ll probably go a little further but I didn’t want to for this fix but next one maybe or remedy. Requests are open!

masterlist

[neallo]

YURI, that means GIRL X GIRL, don't like don't read!!!!!

a quick list of death note yuri fic recs. please note this is an off-the-cuff list & features genderswapped yaoi ships fairly heavily. this is because i write for and read for mello x near first and foremost. i DO have a few remisa and kiyomisa recs, PLUS canon x reader recs... so we are going for a good wide variety here <3

important: i am not listing content warnings of any kind on any of these. most of them fall under the AO3 category "No Archive Warnings Apply," but you alone are responsible for reading the tags and summary for yourself after clicking through and before reading!

encouraging everyone to leave kudos & comments on these! show authors your love! <3

[divider credit]

Misa Amane / Rem

gracefully strung by your hand rated E | 1,862 words

Rem often wondered if Misa’s pleasure was art; Rem certainly thought of it as an act of creation. She was convinced that no other human could create with their body in this way.

Made You Smile rated G | 816 words

“Hey, Rem?” Misa screws on the lid of the nail polish bottle she was fidgeting with, leaning back against her pillows to get a good look up at her friend’s face. “I have a question, is that okay?” “Of course.” Rem turns to her, as permissive as ever. “I will do my best to answer.” She always does. Misa smiles slightly, then beckons her closer. “Actually, I have two. Can I paint your nails?” Rem studies her like she doesn’t quite understand, but when Misa doesn’t clarify or take it back, she hesitantly extends one of her long arms. Her hands are entirely bone, with long thin fingers, and slightly cool to the touch. Misa approximates where Rem’s nails would be if she had any and unscrews the lid again, beginning to apply the red polish in a neat, round oval. “Okay, and my other question…” Misa looks up at Rem, then down again. “What makes you happy?” --- Amane Misa is endlessly endeared towards and endlessly curious about her new shinigami companion.

Misa Amane / Kiyomi Takada

Ruby rated E | 8,307 words

Sometimes she really hates herself. She'd invited Misa to dinner with the intention of maintaining a composed and calculated demeanor throughout, sitting tall with her head held high as always, cementing her position above her. Certain nothing could cause her to lose her footing. But as Misa smiles like a devil across the table, her lips painted like a berry, shining like a ruby in the low light, Kiyomi can feel the control slipping through her fingers. Misa chips away at her, strips the presentable image she so carefully crafted and reveals a side of her she'd kept under lock and key. Not like herself at all. ...Or maybe exactly like herself.

folie à deux rated E | 1,768 words

If Misa were truly devoted, like the sinner that she is, she would have confessed that night while writing her name in pink ink that, in the low light, would of course look red, bloody and terrible and real. Misa did none of these things; instead, this time she took the initiative to ask Kiyomi to dinner.

Canon / Reader

turndown service (misa amane x reader) rated E | 1,571 words

Misa wants a goodnight kiss from Y/N, and who is Y/N to deny her?

cloud (kiyomi takada x reader) rated E | 1,467 words

After a tryst with Misa, Y/N steps outside for some fresh air. Who do you find, Miss To-Oh herself, having a smoke and a midnight snack.

Mello / Near

(see here the neallo-only version of this list)

polar night rated M | 8,119 words

Mello still remembers the time when the collar in Near’s shirt had been twisted, and, without thinking, she reached to fix it, her fingertips grazing the warm skin of her neck. Mello had felt Near’s eyes on her the whole day, and her own hand burned until the next.    But Near's hair is something out of her reach; there’s almost no excuse for her to touch it, and the request is weird itself. Her pride works as a break, a halt in her intent of embarrassing herself by even asking in the first place. Because Mello knows very well that if she ever starts, she may never stop.  Sometimes, she really doesn’t trust herself. But Near does.   Maybe Mello isn’t the stupid one out of the two.  -- [the one where Mello's body is made out of nothing but a sadistic brain and a masochist heart]

Lay Odds rated M | 3,505 words

Nat River, a strange orphan girl adopted and brought to London by the Great Gentleman Detective 'L', is following the footsteps of her adopted father as the Lady Detective 'Near'. When L's case brings him to America, he insists on bringing Near with him to New York. There, the sensitive, shut-in Near is drawn into the wild parties and terrible violence of mafiosi, bootleggers, and drug dens. When a gangster's case practically lands in her lap, she must work to prove that old-world deduction can prevail among new money murderers.

Coast-to-Coast rated E | 796 words

"I miss you." "You do?" asked Near. "Fuck off," snapped Mello. "Get on a plane." "It's the middle of the night," said Near. "So? Airports don't close."

Powder Keg rated E | 2,014 words

Mello stops by Near's room for a late night visit after getting her photo back earlier that day. Near has a certain... fixation.

Steeplechase rated T | 1,025 words

Mello wakes up before dawn and finds the horses in the stables. The groom is already up. There's mist on the track. The barn is alive, and it's cool out. or; Horse Girl Near & eternally undone Mello.

Blur rated E | 2,765 words

Near calls Mello back to the SPK's HQ, but she doesn't want to talk.

L / Light

Lavender Haze [with podfic] rated E | 9,017

Freshly back in Japan, L lets Matt take her to their favourite lesbian bar, where she lays eyes on Light Yagami — a strange, petulant butch girl who may or may not have attempted to murder her own husband. L would very much like for Light to take her home. or L is unhinged levels of horny for a girl she met zero seconds ago.

Hear No Evil rated E | 4,497 words

Misa presses the elevator button and heads up, up, up, all the way to Light's room on the sixteenth floor. She gets halfway down the hall before she realizes that something is off. "Please," someone who sounds very much like Light is saying, from behind Light’s bedroom door. Misa pays her girlfriend a surprise visit after-hours at the Kira Task Force headquarters, and overhears what she believes to be a brutal interrogation. After a tense bout of worried eavesdropping, she intervenes to save her. Light puts the "light" in "gaslight." L is also there.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen navigate an argument with their s/o while away

requested by anon : "may i request how would svt react or what they'll do if they're having an argument with their s/o while they were away for work so they can't meet? thank you!!"

notes: i desperately wanted to write 13 different things for my first properly angsty reaction but my brain just said no :((

masterlist

seungcheol, joshua, wonwoo, dokyeom

he tries to solve it right there and then, in that same phone call, or on the same day. he hates fighting with you, hates it so much, so if he doesn't try and resolve the issue immediately then it'll plague his mind for ages and cause him severe anxiety. has to make up with you while hearing your voice or seeing your face, though, because otherwise it just feels so impersonal. honestly, he's reluctant to even start fights over the phone, because it's difficult to make up when you're miles away, but he tries to handle it as quickly as possible, because he loves you far too much and doesn't want to be arguing with you for too long

jeonghan, woozi, mingyu, minghao

just . goes MIA on you. partly because he wants to give you time to cool down, partly because he's overthinking everything, and partly because he's a little prideful and doesn't want to say sorry first. really, is it his fault that he's being worked to the bone and accidentally fell asleep before managing to text you goodnight? genuinely needs you to text him first after the argument, needs to hear or see that "we need to talk" line because even though it might terrify him, he knows it means you've both had time to think through the fight with a clear mind, and he hopes that you'll both be willing to stay together enough to get through it. 

junhui, hoshi, hansol, seungkwan, chan

you fight with this man over the phone, you break his heart. because this is him, in the middle of a busy schedule, making time to talk to you, and having to end a phone call feeling sour and bitter is the worst feeling for him ever. will be willing to apologise immediately, even if he wasn't in the wrong, even if he doesn't normally admit his faults, because this is you and he's terrified of losing you especially when he's not actually beside you. it's always scarier, for him, to fight over the phone because there's a certain detachedness that comes with physically being so far away and he would genuinely, genuinely hate to lose you like this. 

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reactions tags:

@jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @nakedgrapes @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @butiluvu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XIV

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: omg so the next part has over 5k words and its not even close to being done?? should i post it all at once or break it up?? lmk your thoughts! also!! i think there's only two parts left omg... BUT do not fear bc i'm also writing another little thing for this and i feel like i'll keep doing that :)

series masterlist

You run back out to the stage, just as the Covey band's song is about to end. It was the last one, you thought, if their at home rehearsals were any indicator. You climb back up the side with an exaggerated stumble in your step, drawing the attention of Lucy Gray. She gave you a confused look, having expected that you and Coriolanus would be quite busy, especially after your song. She didn't expect you back on stage at all that night.

You smile and take the mic before she can say goodnight to the audience. "How about one more? I've had a second wind!" You say, looking to the band for their approval. Everyone besides Lucy Gray just giggles at you and nods.

"Alrighty, well, we'd really love to but our Sage here has clearly had a bit to drink and needs to get home." Lucy Gray tries to save it with a joke.

"Oh, come on, Lucy Gray. Live a little!" You laugh, playfully nudging her shoulder. "Who wants one more!" You call out which is returned with whistles and claps of encouragement.

"Alright, alright. Just one more, though." She agrees, smile returning to her face as he shakes her head.

The song ends and the band is packing up, and you can only hope that Coryo is long gone. The floor empties out, and you watch as Maude Ivory hops off the stage.

"Hey, Maude Ivory!" You call after her, hiding the sense of urgency in your voice. "Hey, can you help me clean up the floor before you grab a drink? I'll grab you your water." You offer, hurrying behind her to keep her from going to the back room. You didn't want her to see the bodies you assumed were still back there.

"Yes ma'am." She nods, giving you a quick salute.

"It's not a lot today, just a few bottles we can reuse." You smile at her as she skips out to start at the opposite edge of the room. "Lucy Gray, c'mere." You call to her as she closes up her old guitar case.

"You okay?" She asks, confused by your sudden sobriety.

"Come with me." You whisper, leading her into the back hallway in front of the door.

She follows, worry creased into her brow. Suddenly, she notes the red spots across the front of your dress which were almost invisible under the stage lights and among the red accents of the fabric.

"Something happened, okay? You can't let them come back here." You insist, referring to her family. "And you can't tell anyone."

"What?" She asks in a hushed tone, glancing past you toward the door. "Is it Coriolanus?"

Before you can explain, she's pushing past you and shoving the door open. You follow her quickly, reaching your arms around her to cover her mouth to keep any kind of reaction from being heard. You effectively muffle a cry of shock, and she's shoving you away and turning to face you. "That's- that's Billy Taupe, and, and Mayfair-"

"Shh-" You hush her quickly. "It was self-defense, okay? She was going to get us all killed. You included."

"I- no, I don't-" She tries to articulate her thoughts as her eyes fill with tears.

"I know, okay? It's less than ideal. Coryo is handling it. We just have to stay quiet." You promise. "Let's just grab everything and bring it all out, pretend you saw nothing. Maude Ivory and CC can't see this, do you understand?"

She nods, sniffling and looking between the bodies. "Hey, don't look at them." You remind her, gently turning her chin toward you. "They hurt you. Now you can move on, okay?"

"Okay." She whispers shakily, nodding again as you gather all the Covey's backstage supplies to bring out.

The next morning, you're awoken to a pounding on the front door of the small home, the four of you who shared a room all shooting up at once.

You scramble to get a peek out the window, spotting the grey shade of peacekeeper uniforms and cursing.

"Who- who is it?" Maude Ivory asks, scared as she looks between you and Lucy Gray.

"Peacekeepers. Lucy Gray, we have to go." You say quickly, closing the shade and grabbing your dress and Lucy Gray's arm.

"What? What's happening?" Barb Azure asks, rubbing her eyes.

"They're going to bust in if you don't open the door. Just tell them Lucy Gray isn't home. Don't mention me and if they ask, you don't know who I am. Do you understand?" You ask frantically and the girl nods fearfully.

As quickly as possible, you and Lucy Gray are flying out the back door and making a sprint for the trees behind the house.

"Any sign of the guns, or the girl? Mayor Lipp is sure she did it, or at least knows who did." A gruff voice of one of the peacekeepers has you and Lucy Gray both looking at each other, hands clutched over your mouths to keep quiet.

"None." His comrade replies, standing almost directly beneath you after they searched the yard. Clearly not very thoroughly, if they didn't see you and Lucy Gray sitting only about ten feet above their heads.

You cringe as he walks right over your garden, crushing the blooming raspberry bushes. "They arrested Plinth. Just got word, apparently, he was involved with rebels." The first man speaks again, and your eyes widen.

"Plinth? He's two beds down from me. Didn't expect that from him. He's a nice guy."

"No, I know. Anyway, he'll be executed this afternoon." You have to bite your lip to keep it from shaking under your hand, as if somehow that could give you away.

"Whatever, we'll come back later to get her." One of them says, making their way back through the house.

You hide in the branches and leaves until you're sure they're gone before carefully unsticking yourself from the ridged bark you were sitting on for far too long. You carefully climb down after Lucy Gray, making a quick effort to pull any stray sticks of leaves from your hair.

"What are we gonna do? They think I did it, I didn't do it, they'll kill me!" Lucy Gray panics, and you think about it while you quickly change into your dress.

"I think you have we have to run. Like you planned to do. We just have to follow through." You tell her, nodding to yourself.

Lucy Gray sighs, tipping her head back to look up at the sky. "I didn't even really want to go, I just wanted to get Billy Taupe off my ass."

"Well, he won't be there now." You say, looking her over. "How were they going to break that girl out?"

"Lil?" Lucy Gray asks, confused as she looks back at you. "I... I don't know, but it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Did they have a plan? Did they write it down anywhere?" You ask again.

"Well, yes, but they didn't write it down. It was too risky."

"Tell it to me. Every detail you can remember." You urge her, trying to settle the panic rising behind your ribs.

Coriolanus had been out all morning with his team, looking for the weapon that killed the mayor's daughter and praying every moment that they wouldn't find it. After breaking down the doors of countless homes, he thought he would start to feel better. There was no way they would be caught, but he was regretting not taking the initiative to hide them himself. That way, he would at least know.

With his issued weapon in his hand, they were pacing down a desolate street. By now the whole district knew to lock themselves away, except for whoever he just saw in his peripheral vision through a narrow sidestreet. He turns his head fully, just catching the ends of their hair and the red in their short dress before they disappeared. He stops, quickly taking the turn into the side street and looking back to make sure no one had seen him depart from the group.

With the bag of tools thrown over your shoulder, you tried your very best to be quiet while walking through the city. Walking down a sidestreet, you found it was a challenge to be both fast and silent. At the sound of footsteps behind you, you hold the bag in your arms to prevent the tools from knocking together and step into a narrow doorway, back pressed to the wall.

You're breathing heavily, but keep it steady as the footsteps on the gravel of the road come to a stop. You hear them turn, presumably looking in both directions. You're in the middle of cursing yourself for being spotted when you hear a whistle. A calling one, baiting you to peek out from your hiding spot, but you don't budge. Another whistle. "Hey, Y/N? Is that you?" The whistle is followed by Coryo's voice whispering your name, and you're infinitely relieved.

You stepped out quietly, and you couldn't help but smile when you saw his familiar face. He meets you halfway, and you're quickly wrapping your arms around him. "Coryo..." You sigh, not ready to let go of him just yet.

"Hey, Y/N/N..." He whispers back, kissing your head. "Are you okay? What are you doing out? You need to get home."

"I can't." You shake your head, finally dropping your arms from around him. "Did you hear Sejanus got arrested this morning? He's going to be executed."

Coryo is in shock, jaw going slack as he tries to decide what to say. It must have been his recording, because there was nothing linking him to the murders.

"I'm going to break him out. Like they planned to do for that other girl."

Instantly at your statement, he shakes his head. "Absolutely not. You'll be caught and you'll be next. There's a poster of you in the head peacekeeper's office. I've seen it. They're looking for you here, it's too risky."

"I'm not going to let Sejanus die over something he didn't even do." You whisper, voice picking up in anger as you glare up at him.

"You can't, Y/N. I get why you'd want to, but it's not worth it." He insists.

"They won't catch us. I'm getting him out and we're running, just like they planned to do anyway."

Coryo scans your face for any sign at all that you may be kidding, but he finds none. "Don't. Don't go. I wanted to tell you this last night, but they're relocating me to Two. You can come with me. I'll get us both out of here."

"Closer to home?" You ask, a hint of hopefulness flitting in your eyes before it's quickly replaced with sadness. "Wait, no. No, they'll ship me back home, and then what? I'll be killed anyway, or worse." You sigh, shaking your head as you look down. This is probably about to turn into a goodbye you never wanted to say.

The idea of leaving him behind was breaking your heart, but would you really be leaving him? You knew what would happen to him. He'd go to Two, rise quickly in the ranks, and be elected president by the time he turned twenty-five. He would be okay, but would you be without him? You couldn't stomach the idea of taking such a bright future from him just because you had nothing left. "I have to go with them, Coryo. It's my only choice."

He can already see that there is no shot you'll be happy out there. You probably wouldn't last the week, either. He nods a little bit, taking your hand. "I'll come with you." He nods again, deciding it for himself. Coriolanus Snow is not about to say goodbye to the love of his life for the last time as someone she was pretending to be but never truly was, nothing more than a rebel from District Twelve.

"No, your relocation, it's your ticket home. You have to take it." You reply.

"It doesn't matter. If they find the gun, I'll be killed either way. Here, in Two, or back home. I can't escape it, same as you." He promises. "There's nothing for me there anyway. Not without you." Coryo says, rubbing his thumb gently over the side of your neck, warming the chilled skin there.

How could you say no? "Okay." You whisper, nodding slightly as your cheeks flush pink. "Can you leave tonight?"

"Uh, I, no." He shakes his head. "Earliest I can get away is sunrise."

"Shit... okay." You hum, looking around as if that will help you think. Undistracted from his all-consuming blue eyes looking into yours. "We can try and wait, then meet us at the hanging tree at dawn. If we're not there, hike to the cabin. We'll wait there if we can't hide here overnight."

He nods in confirmation, looking quickly over his shoulder as you both hear cheers and whoops of excitement making their way down the street toward you. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." He agrees.

"See you tomorrow." You give him a small smile, turning to continue on your way when he grabs your wrist. He's quick to pull you back to him, colliding his lips with yours. He always kisses like he's starving. God, you wouldn't be able to live without that.

"Be careful, Y/N/N." He warns as he pulls away. "Stay safe."

"Yes sir, mister president." You grin, kissing him again quickly before walking away. You turn as you walk backward to face him, giving him a salute.

Coryo smiles to himself smugly, nodding at you before rushing to rejoin the other peacekeepers in his squad as they drag Spruce back toward the compound.

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[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door Part 15 part 2: Porch Convo

Find Part 15: Here

Masterlist: Here

TW: Cursing, Steve is drunk, mentions of cheating and divorce and a tiny small bit of violence

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @idkjoequinn @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99

A/N: I didn’t wanna have to make y’all wait too long for this so I hope you enjoy and that it’s everything you wanted it to be😂✨

“Yo Steve you’ve gotta go man….you don’t live here anymore.” “Where did…did you come from?” “Uh…my house?” “Oh…figured you’d be moved in here by now…why aren’t you?” “What? Why would…you know what it’s pointless…you gotta go okay? She doesn’t want you here.” “I miss her.” “Cool…but miss her from somewhere else before I call Hopper.” “She loves you.” “No shit we are bestfriends…we love each other…” “no she’s in love with you…it’s fucking obvious…so so obvious and I…I married her anyway and now…now everyone hates me and Dustin won’t even talk to me…” “you have to lay off the whiskey dude…it’s not your friend…clearly makes you delusional.” “I’m not fucking delusional you asshole! My wife is in love with you and the only way I could…test if she cared about me was to…do this.” “What…did you just say? You cheated on her to see if she actually cares about you?” “She doesn’t…she just kicked me out…Chrissy kissed me you know? During game night…she kissed me because she knew you wouldn’t care.” “Stop talking Steve.” “Said that you only care about one person and we both know who that is….so Chrissy just kissed me.” “Steve…for the love of god shut the fuck up and get off her porch.” “I don’t want a divorce…I don’t want Chrissy…I don’t love her…I love my wife.” “You don’t get to cheat on your wife just to see if she loves you or not then say you don’t want a divorce….you fucking sleaze-ball…now get up.” “Maybe I can make her love me the way she loves you…maybe she’ll come around.” “Not gonna happen…do you not see where you’re at? You’re outside her house begging for her to love you…but why would she ever let you into her house or her heart again…when she was actually madly in love with you what did you do? You fucked my wife…just to see if your actual wife would care? You’re a sick motherfucker Steve and you need to leave.” “Madly in love with me? Are you fucking joking?” “Does it look like I’m joking?” “She’s never been madly in love with me Eddie…she’s just been too stupid-” “don’t you ever call her stupid you fucking asshole.” “Jesus Christ…I think….I think you broke my nose.” “I didn’t…we’d both know if I did….now fucking leave before I do actually decide to break something of yours…” “I just want her to love me…like she loves you.” “Well…can’t say she’s gonna love me when I go in there and tell her I punched you in the face…I just need you to know something Harrington.” “What?” “She doesn’t love me the way she loved you…she didn’t marry me…she married you…she didn’t pick me…she picked you…not because she needed a place holder but because she fucking loved you.” “What?…what? No…no that’s not-” “it is true…she loved you man…but you fucked it all up…” “I…I gotta…I gotta go.” “Bout fucking time…oh and tell Chrissy all this shit about not loving her will ya? She is convinced you’re in love with her and want your happily ever after with her…but do it..gently please…” “Uh yeah…okay…yeah I’ll…do it gently…tell her I love her?….please?” “No…now goodnight Steve…go take a cold shower and have a cup of black coffee and you’ll be fine…send me the bill for the dry cleaning to get the blood out of your shirt…”