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mistiell · 1 year ago

Note

If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

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“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.��

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #hurt/comfort

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redroomreflections · 2 months ago

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Sorry For Your Loss

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: What if WLWD met TLH but even more tragic?

Note: I was fighting my sleep to write this. Enjoy and don't hate me lol

Warning: Super angst, mention of drunk driving, major character death.

ONLY READ IF YOU LIKE PAIN

Note: I’m too excited for my flight in a couple of hours. I was itching to write when this came into my head.

The house feels suffocatingly quiet, an eerie stillness settling over every room. The absence of laughter and playful shouts from the children creates a palpable void that echoes in Natasha’s heart. It’s too quiet. The walls, usually vibrant with the sounds of life, now seem to absorb the sorrow that hangs in the air like a heavy fog. The television flickers in the background, casting an unnatural glow across the room, but no one is watching. It’s just noise—an attempt to fill the silence with anything, but it fails miserably. The news anchors drone on, their voices muted by the weight of grief that envelops them.

The clock ticks ominously in the background, reminding everyone that the funeral is only an hour away. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of fresh flowers and the faint smell of coffee that no one seems interested in drinking. The cars would be arriving soon. Six children and a host of in-laws—how would they all fit into the designated family car?

Chase, your older brother, paces restlessly near the door, glancing toward the driveway. “Where’s Natasha? We need to get going,” he mutters, frustration seeping into his voice. No one has a real answer. They can feel the tension thickening around them, a shared anxiety that clings to the group like a shroud. Melina rises from her seat and walks toward the master bedroom, her hand poised to knock when Natasha emerges from the house's shadows. Her face is fresh and unreadable, an expression honed by years of practice in concealing emotions. The light from the doorway casts a soft glow around her, but her eyes betray nothing—no hint of the storm roiling within.

“Is everyone ready?” she asks, her voice steady yet distant.

Melina pauses, taken aback by Natasha’s calm demeanor. “We’ve been waiting for you. The car will be here any minute,” She replies, her tone softening. Natasha nods and walks past her, her steps silent against the hardwood floor.

"Where are the boys and Paige?" Natasha takes a headcount of the children in front of her. There are several but a few of hers are missing. She spots Cara cuddled into her Nana's side.

"They're upstairs," Peyton announces lowly. "They're refusing to come down."

"What do you mean they're refusing?" Natasha's eyebrow quirks.

"Exactly what it sounds like, Tasha," Yelena pipes up from her spot on the couch.

Natasha narrows her eyes at her sister and turns on her heels, climbing the stairs with determination. She ignores the pictures lining the walls. She doesn't bother looking at your photos. It hurts too much. The house feels cavernous and hauntingly silent, the absence of laughter amplifying the thud of her heart as she approaches the children's rooms. She can feel the tension coiling in her chest.

At the top of the stairs, she glances down the hallway, her mind racing with thoughts of what you would say in moments like this—words of encouragement, perhaps a reminder that it was okay to feel vulnerable. But today, she is the rock, and she cannot falter.

“Boys! Paige!” she calls out, her voice firm yet gentle. “You need to come downstairs. It’s time.” She waits, hoping for some sign of movement, a response that might break through the cloud of grief surrounding them.

Silence.

“Please!” she adds, softer this time, her heart aching for them. She thinks of how you would have approached this, with warmth and understanding, coaxing them out with stories or gentle humor. But those tools feel out of reach for her right now. The air in Paige’s room is thick. Natasha stands at the doorway, taking in the sight before her: Luke, just three years old, is perched on the edge of the bed, his tiny legs swinging rhythmically as he absentmindedly fidgets with his loose tie. Beside him, James, eight and usually so full of energy, sits slumped against the wall, staring blankly at the floor, his tie hanging loosely in his lap.

Paige sits in the center, the picture of a little girl trying to be brave. She wears a sleek black dress that flares slightly at the waist, her hair intricately styled in braids adorned with delicate black clips. But it’s the hot pink sneakers on her feet that draw Natasha’s gaze, a stark contrast to the somber attire they all wear. They were the last pair you had bought for her, a small gift meant to brighten her day, and now they feel like a painful reminder of the joy that has been snuffed out.

Natasha's heart aches at the sight, a wave of grief crashing over her. She wants to break down and cry, to let the tears flow freely, but she holds herself together, knowing she must be strong for her children. The weight of their loss presses heavily on her chest, and she feels a knot tightening in her throat.

"Hey, what's going on?" She kneels before them.

“We are not going,” Luke answers first, his tiny voice filled with defiance, his brows furrowing as he crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“No. We are staying,” Paige declares with an earnestness that stabs at Natasha's heart, her small body taut with determination.

James pulls at the collar of his button-up shirt, a look of sheer discomfort painted on his face. “I’m not wearing this,” he complains, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“Why not?” Natasha asks, her voice cracking just a bit, betraying the emotion she’s trying so hard to suppress. “You all look so beautiful.”

James shakes his head vigorously, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t want to look beautiful,” he replies, his frustration spilling over. “I want to stay here!”

“We don’t want to say goodbye to Mommy,” Paige supplies, her voice trembling as she fights back tears. The admission hangs in the air, heavy and painful.

“No, no, no,” Luke utters his agreement, kicking his feet against the bed, each thump echoing his dissent. “I want Mommy to come home!”

Natasha feels the tears pricking at her eyes as their innocent cries pierce through her heart. “I know, I know,” she whispers, her breath hitching. “But this is how we show her we love her. By saying goodbye.”

"But why?" Luke asks, tears streaming down his face as he becomes increasingly upset.

Natasha sighs, her heart breaking for her young son. "Because that's what happens when we love people. Sometimes, we have to say goodbye. Remember where I told you Mommy is?"

Luke sniffles. "With the angels."

"That's right, baby. She's in a place with lots of love. But we still have to say goodbye." Natasha strokes his cheek softly.

"Will she be okay?" Paige looks at Natasha with wide eyes, her chin quivering as she struggles to keep her composure.

Natasha smiles weakly, her eyes misty. "Of course, she will. And we will too. Because she'll always be with us, right here," she places her hand on her heart, a gesture that was so you, and one they were familiar with.

"I already lost two Mommies now," Paige says solemnly. "It makes me sad."

Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "I know, my love, but your mom will never be gone. She's always going to be right here with us." She taps her chest again. "If you really don't want to go I won't force you. I will, um, I will see if we can get one of the neighbors to come and stop in. Whatever makes you happy. Where's Charlie?"

"She's already downstairs," Paige says quietly, her shoulders slumping.

"Okay," Natasha nods. "I, um, gosh. I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say right now." She admits.

"But you always know what to say?" James tilts his head. "Are you sad too?"

Natasha swallows, fighting back tears that threaten to spill. “I am,” she replies, her voice shaking slightly. “I would like to say goodbye to your mommy because it brings me closure. It gives me peace.” The words feel heavy on her tongue, laden with the weight of the reality they all face.

James looks thoughtful, his small brows knitting together. “Will it help you feel better?” he asks, searching her face for answers.

“I hope so,” Natasha says gently, placing her hand on his leg. “It’s important for us to honor her and remember all the good times we shared. It’s okay to be sad, but it’s also okay to remember the happy moments.”

“Like when she taught me how to ride my bike?” Luke pipes up, his voice brightening just a bit. “And we went so fast?”

“Exactly!” Natasha encourages, her heart swelling with love for her children. “And all the times she read you stories before bed. Kissed your booboos. We can share those memories today.”

Paige perks up slightly at the mention of stories, a small flicker of interest sparking in her eyes. “She always made the best pancakes, too,” she adds, her voice softening.

Natasha nods, grateful for the direction of the conversation. “Yes! And how she would let you pick the toppings. Do you remember that one time she made a huge stack and put ice cream and strawberries on top?”

“Yeah!” Luke giggles, his laughter a small, bright note in the heavy atmosphere. “And then I spilled syrup all over my shirt!”

"Exactly," Natasha breathes. "She's the reason we have all these memories. It's not goodbye forever. I promise. And she will always watch over us. It will never be goodbye." She reassures. "Just a see you later."

Paige seems to think about it, her expression contemplative. She looks down at her pink sneakers and then back up at her mother, a question forming on her lips.

"Can we tell everyone a memory at the funeral?" she asks quietly, her voice wavering.

"Of course, you can," Natasha says. "Everyone will love to hear."

"Good. Because Mommy loved stories."

"She did."

"How about you go and find your sisters and I'll help your brothers finish getting dressed," Natasha suggests. "The car should be here soon."

"Okay, Mama," Paige slips off the bed and makes her way out the door.

Natasha takes a deep, shaky breath, exhaling slowly as she turns her attention to her sons. She does Luke first and he doesn't put up a fight. He's quiet the entire time. Her youngest is still processing the grief.

Natasha moves to James. "Hey, kid. Let's get you looking good for Mommy. Do you want your black shoes or not?"

"Can I wear the ones Mommy bought for me too?"

"Of course, baby."

"The spiderman ones?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'll go get them."

James runs off to the closet and Natasha turns her attention to Luke. "We're almost ready. How are you feeling?"

"Sad."

"I know."

“Mama, is Mommy sad?” Luke asks, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

“What do you mean? Is she sad where she is?” Natasha asks, her voice gentle but steady, hoping to guide him through his thoughts.

He nods slowly. “She probably misses us so much. That’s what she always says when you go on vacation.”

Natasha feels a lump rise in her throat at his words, the reality of your absence cutting deep. “You’re right,” she replies, brushing a thumb over Luke’s cheek. “I know she misses you. She loved you so much, and I know she wishes she could be here right now.”

Luke looks down, the sadness etching deeper into his young features. “Will she come back?” he asks, his voice trembling.

Natasha swallows hard, knowing that this is one of those moments she wishes she could shield him from the harsh truth. “No, sweetheart. She won’t come back. But she’ll always be with us in our hearts, in our memories. And we can talk to her whenever we want. We just have to think of her and remember all the love she gave us.”

Luke furrows his brow, contemplating her words. “Like when I think about her making pancakes?”

“Exactly,” Natasha encourages, her heart swelling with pride for her son’s understanding. “You can always remember those moments. They’re special.”

Just then, James returns, a pair of Spiderman shoes in hand. “Can I wear these?” he asks, excitement creeping back into his voice despite the heavy atmosphere.

“Of course, baby,” Natasha smiles, relieved to see a spark of joy return to his eyes. “Let’s get you looking sharp for Mommy.”

As she helps James with his shoes, Natasha reflects on the gravity of the day ahead.

"Mama, why do there have to be drunk drivers?"

"I don't know, buddy. I really don't." Natasha attempts to focus on getting his feet in his shoes.

"That's what killed Mommy."

"Yeah. It is."

"I don't understand."

"There's a lot in this world we will never understand."

"Why?"

"Sometimes, life is cruel. And unfair." Natasha begins. "Sometimes people make bad choices that they have to live with."

"What if they can't live with it?"

"Then they can't change it. No time machine can turn back the clock. All we can do is remember your Mommy for the kind, loving, warm, funny, and brilliant woman she was." Natasha says.

"And how much she loved us."

"Yeah. She really did. And she was proud of all of us."

"Did we make her happy?"

"Very," Natasha nods. "Now, are we all ready?"

"Yes," James takes a deep breath just like you practiced.

"Good," Natasha exhales. "Let's go then. We can't miss Mommy's funeral."

Luke is the first to grab her hand. He squeezes her fingers tightly, the small gesture conveying a depth of emotion that words could never express. James joins in, holding onto her other hand as they descend the stairs together.

"I did Charlie's hair," Cara offers as they meet at the bottom of the stairs. "She was a little upset about it but I did it."

"Thank you," Natasha murmurs, squeezing her daughter's shoulder.

The doorbell rings, breaking the fragile calm.

"It's here," Melina announces, her voice thick with emotion. "Time to say goodbye."

As they gather by the front door, a heavy silence settles over the family, the enormity of the moment weighing heavily on their shoulders.

Natasha feels her heart racing, the tension coiling in her chest like a spring, ready to snap. She feels an overwhelming sense of emptiness settles in her chest. The warmth of Luke and James's small hands in hers provides some comfort, but it feels inadequate against the crushing weight of grief. Even with her family surrounding her, she feels more alone than she ever did when she was a spy or on the run, moments that, in hindsight, felt almost thrilling compared to this void.

The door swings open, and they step outside into the cool air. The family car awaits. Melina moves to help the younger ones, but Natasha remains still for a moment, staring into the distance as a rush of memories floods her mind—laughing with you in the kitchen, planning birthday parties, marking anniversaries that now feel like distant dreams.

Her heart aches at the thought of the anniversary circled in big red on the kitchen calendar, a day they had planned to celebrate together. Now, it serves as a painful reminder of the life that was supposed to be, a future now out of reach. The promise she made to you—to keep your family together—echoes in her mind, a vow she knows she must honor despite the challenges ahead.

“I can’t do this alone,” Natasha whispers to herself, though the words feel heavy and hollow. She hasn’t slept in her own bed since you passed; the sheets still smell like you, and the thought of facing that emptiness alone is unbearable. Her appetite has vanished, save for the muffin Cara brought her this morning—an attempt to nourish herself that felt almost futile.

“Are you okay, Mama?” Luke asks, his innocent concern snapping her back to the present.

Natasha forces a smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Just thinking about how much your Mommy loved all of you.”

James looks up at her, his face serious. “We can make her proud today, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha responds, her heart swelling for what felt like the millionth time today. “We will make her proud.”

As they approach the car, Natasha feels the weight of her family behind her, their collective grief palpable but also a source of strength. She knows she has to find a way to keep moving forward, not just for herself but for all six of the children depending on her.

mentioning that this is completely au and purely au and not real.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you

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thecapricunt1616 · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 6 🎃

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭): “The- the letter- the letter you sent me, ‘I’m too broken to love you anymore’ ‘you need someone who can love you how you love me’ ‘find something better’ “ you repeat, tears brimming your eyes and he crinkles his brows in that way you missed so much. He shook his head quickly

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Eeee! Welcome to day 6 of Kinktoberrrrr! Thank you so much for all of the heartwarming love on the fics so far! If you'd like to see my schedule/masterlist for this celebration click right 🎃here🎃; & if you'd like to also check out my masterlist for Promptober 2024 click right 🦇here🦇. & If you'd like to be added to the taglist for either celebration, comment on the according masterlist & I will add you!I kind of hate this one but fuck it lol! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:1.2k 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, Implied Smut, Swearing, No use of y/n 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐤𝐚-𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐬

You sighed deeply as you unlocked the door to your new apartment, conveniently the box you were holding full of new pottery samples you’d made fell off your hip to the floor and crashed with an awful cracking glass noise.

“FUCK!” You shouted in frustration, looking at the tiny broken pieces spilling out of the cracks in the box. The door next to yours cracked open.

“What the fuck how many times have I said I work until fuckin 3 in the-“ he stops when he meets your eyes.

“Bunny” he said softly. You felt equally as frozen, staring at him wide eyed and gawked.

“B-bear?” You stuttered out.

Your first love.

“What the fuck ‘re you doin’ here, Bun?” He breathed, the most confused he’d ever sounded.

“Uh- um- what are you doing-“

“I live here?” He said defensively and your cheeks feel a rush of heat. “Fuck- I-I’ll call the landlord first thing M’sorry- I-I’ll cancel this I’ll get an air bnb when he gives me my security back- I’m so sorry- I won’t bother you p-please I’m- I didn’t follow you- I’m not- I’m not what you think I am” you unlocked your door with shaking hands and quickly open it.

“See? Empty! Wasn’t a plan! Gonna move out asap” you pick up the lease agreement from the counter, ripping it in half. “Null and void- I promise Carmy, I promise” you assured, walking forward and gently nudging him out the door where he followed you.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He breathed, grabbing your wrist as you went to shove him back into the hall again. You stilled, shocked.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, resting your hands by your sides, panting at the stressed enraged feeling that had bubbled inside of you seeing him again. He had send you a letter, a long, painful, letter- in short about how he can’t ever heal the pain of being rejected by his father so viscerally, He couldn’t ever get passed Mikey’s death- and that means someone like you who was so kind and understanding didn’t deserve someone like him who ‘couldn’t love you properly in his brokenness’.

It absolutely crushed you to receive it, you cried, and cried, reading it night after night, wishing he would call you and change his mind.

That never happened though, and in his letter he specifically asked you to never call, or try to reach out- because it would be better for you, and your biggest fear was him now thinking that you followed him, after learning that he was back in Chicago- even though you just were learning now that he was back.

“What - what fuckin letter - what are you talking about?” He asked genuinely confused and you shake your head, putting your hands up in confusion

“The- the letter- the letter you sent me, ‘I’m too broken to love you anymore’ ‘you need someone who can love you how you love me’ ‘find something better’ “ you repeat, tears brimming your eyes and he crinkles his brows in that way you missed so much. He shook his head quickly

“No. No. I- I never sent that-“ he muttered “I- I never sent that. I - I left that in my desk- at home-“ he swallowed thickly. “When did you get that?” He stepped forward and you took a step back, shaking your head and swallowing, nearly breathless as tears fall down your cheeks.

“I- I got it when you moved - like 3 weeks after you left me. And you didn’t fucking say anything like- like we meant nothing. And that’s when I knew. You really didn’t fucking care” you sniffled, quickly wiping your tears and anger growing.

“Bunny- I never would have sent it. It was just- it was just in case. I couldn’t fucking bring myself to do it” he took another step forward “you have to believe me, bun” he said softly. You shook your head again and push past him, rushing to the kitchen to get a glass of water before you threw up. You had grieved, you had been angry, you had fucked random people to simply get over him. And here he was, standing in your apartment, telling you that he never meant it.

“Who sent it?” You asked after you downed half a glass, slightly panting from stress and gulping down so much at once.

“I don’t fucking know- I- I left it, in my fucking desk right next to my school shit- my yearbook…it- it had all the shit, it was addressed it had a stamp- I just couldn’t fucking do it. It had to have been mom.” He came over, gently touching your arm and you flinch away, knowing if you let him touch you, that you would break.

“Why did you never call?” You asked, voice weak and quiet.

“I thought you wouldn’t pick up- I- I wasn’t thinking when I left, I thought you’d fucking hate me.” He reached out and touched your arm. “Y’gotta believe me, Squish” he said and your lip began to quiver.

“You stopped loving me when you left, Bear” You whisper and he shook his head, pushing your hair back from your shoulder.

“Nothing could ever make that happen.” He gently wiped your tears “I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you” he said softly. You shut your eyes, taking a deep quivering breath, taking in the scent of his new unfamiliar cologne and the same American spirits that come in the yellow pack.

“You don’t wear 4711 anymore” you looked up at him with teary eyes and he swallowed thickly.

“Can’t uh….I can’t. Not anymore, yeah.” He cleared his throat, stroking your jaw with his thumb. “I’m sorry- you gotta believe I’m sorry” he said softly and you wrap your hand around his, curling your fingers around his palm and you sniffled

“Is what you said true, you never stopped?” You whispered and he looked down at you for a long moment before leaning in, resting his forehead on yours

“Let me show you” he muttered before bringing his lips to yours. You practically melted into him, the feeling of his lips on yours again after so long sending sparks of lust and joy and love shooting through your chest. You could barely hold back the moan that fell from your throat at the feeling.

You couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and giving in, once he touched you again, it felt like you never wanted him to let go. The kiss got more heated, more hot, more needy. When you finally disconnected your lips to breathe, he got straight to work kissing down your neck with fevor, nipping and sucking at the skin.

“Please baby - let me show you - I missed you so fuckin much” he breathed into your neck, rucking up your fall sweater and running his calloused hands over your ribs and hips, squeezing the flesh of your love handles - you couldn’t help but whine. You were torn, he could up and leave again- he could tell you right after the entire thing was a mistake, that he really never wanted to see you again, but if this was your only chance to get a proper goodbye, you would take it.

“Fine…Show me how sorry you are”

Fin

Tag List: @carmenberzattosgf - @daysofyellowroses - @mouseymilkovich - @gallaghersgal - @carmybrainworms - @maggiesarchives - @l4long-winded - @babyspiderling - @southsideserendipity - @djlnkaled

#Capri's Kinktober 2024 #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #Carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto blurb #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy the bear

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that-dam-heartstopper-fan · 7 months ago

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Welcome! You have found the madness of my blog.

You can call me Darcy, Darce, Ash, Angel, or a nickname. I do not care (also if I tell you that my name is Angle, I meant Angel, I just can’t spell 😭)

I use she/her and they/them pronouns. I am a demigirl :)

I identify as asexual and panromantic and a burden

I reblog a lot, put random polls, and post random things about my life.

My other account: my oc: @a-poetic-apollo-kid

Lee Fletcher: @the-forgotten-apollo-kid

Naomi Solace: @best-country-singer

Naomi Solace for a closed rp for demigod’s mortal parents: @all-time-alt-country-singer

Cabin 7 ask blog: @cabin7-chaos

I created different Naomi blogs cause they are apart of two different closed rps, and I run the second one

how I run my blog:

Feel free to message me, i promise I’m nice, if you just want to talk or need to vent. I support everyone, (unless you’re a dick - homophobic, racist, sexist, etc)

I use ‘girl’ ‘gurl’ ‘guys’ ‘dude’ and ‘bro’ as gender neutral terms, if you’re uncomfortable with it or sm just let me know :)

also I use <3 platonically, again let me know if you’re uncomfortable with it :)

Moots:

a list of my moots here lmk if you want to be added (as long as we are mutuals)

poll tag list if you want to be apart of my tag list for polls please comment on this to be apart of that

Things I follow:

(There might be more tbh)

There’s more, I’m just forgetting lol

I love music and books- please if you want to, send in recommendations. music peoples I listen to:

(These people all have more than one song on my main playlist)

Tags: Darce has a question - for polls

Ash shares their vast knowledge - for asks

Angel shouts into the void - for vents

Darcy needs you to see this - for reblogs

rambling Darce - for rambling

Darcy has a lot to say - for my headcanons

I’m going to try my best to use these :)

Extra: I have a YouTube channel… I post edits/videos of heartstopper and Percy Jackson

picrew: here

I think that’s it, please be nice :)

I do it for the girls and the gays

(gays being anyone in the LGBTQIA+)

credits: thank you soooo much @bleep-bloop-boo for the name and @ ideas

Thank you @homocidalpotat for my tag names

#Ash shares their vast knowledge #Angel shouts into the void #Darcy needs you to see this #Darce has a question #Rambling Darce #Darcy has a lot to say

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myokk · 3 months ago

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20 q's for fic writers

tagged by @crushribbons love you Laney😙😙😙😙💓💓💓

How many works do you have on AO3? I am a humble baby writer so I only have three...so far

What's your total AO3 word count? 99,211...before I joined tumblr and fanart hell (affectionate) I was writing SO MUCH...I started in January bahahahahhahahahahahahah

What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts Legacy, but in the future I'll probably do Tomione…beginning of death eaters super evil but sexy 1940s Tom Riddle making Hermione turn evil… (among others). Tbh (fanart-wise NOT writing) I also want to draw harvest moon…stardew valley…x files… I would love to attempt writing for P&P bc I have so many ideas, but I am too lazy to make sure they're historically accurate and it would drive me crazy if they arent so I'll just enjoy them hehe

Top five fics by kudos? I only have three published so far, but the most popular is my Ominis oneshot, legilimency. I have no idea how that one actually got readers...but I'm happy bc I really like it too and I reread it sometimes!! My main fic is actually doing a lot better than I expected too, bc when I started posting I was just shouting into the void and I wasn’t part of the community or anything🥹 the little excerpts I post here too, that go along with my writing, also do a lot better than I expected and it makes me so happy to read your comments💓

Do you respond to comments? yes!!!!! Comments/hashtags always make me SO HAPPY and these interactions are the fun of sharing these things with you all. I get swamped by notifications sometimes so I might respond super late but I always try to bc I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? my main fic...I have a horrible ending planned but I might chicken out at the end and make it happy. in my fanarts I can make them happy so that might be enough for me...and I’ll go with the evil ending muahahahahahaa

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? the Imelda/Poppy fic. Honestly it's not popular but it holds SUCH A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART...it’s popular to me😤 I reread it a lot...my love letter to Imelda

Do you get hate on fics? I don't think so...If I do I'm out of the loop bahahahhahahahaha. Honestly I've had haters before on other platforms and it's not something that really bothers me bc if I don't personally know someone, I don't care what they think...and like Laney said...if they don't like something they should just make what they want to see instead lol

Do you write smut? yes😳

Craziest crossover? None I Am A Boring Girl

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that I know of!!!!! But I also just started writing this year. I've had my art stolen sooooooo many times before though on IG and tiktok (not here yet that I know of…). If it's just copying my art I don't mind that much with these fanarts because that's how you learn and a copy will never look like the original but...

Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No but I'm collaborating with @versailles-black for fanart shenanigans bc our MCs are cousins🥹💓 plus the whole Leo/Bea thing with @the-ozzie …I’m actually considering writing a oneshot about the two of them so I think it counts!!

All time favorite ship I have two...Elizabeth/Mr Darcy have had me in a vicelike grip for my whole life...but so have Scully and Mulder...

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I really really really want to write my Ominis longfic that's a continuation of my oneshot, but it's hard to find the time to write lately bc I've been so busy!!! like...even finding time to do these fanarts is a struggle these days. I still have hope I'll finish it though bc apart from ME wanting to read it there are a few others who are also looking forward to it!!!

What are your writing strengths? no idea🥲

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I personally like it!!! But only if it's used correctly...I've seen Spanish in fics before where the person CLEARLY doesn't speak it and it drives me crazy, esp if the character is supposed to be Spanish-speaking. Or...when people add random phrases in with the rest English, bc as a bilingual person I feel like it doesn't really work like that lol. I added some Spanish to the Imelda oneshot I wrote and I like to read it when it's done naturally, and if anyone asks me for translation in the comments I’m happy to oblige🥰

First fandom you wrote in? Hogwarts Legacy is my first fandom ever bahahahhahahahahah

Favorite fic you've written? tbh I love all three that I've written so far!!!!!! I can't choose🥹🥹

Laney said there's no 20th question…I love you all😙😙😙

zerooo pressure tags for @kay9leo @writing-intheundercroft @heyitszev @noxxytocin and anyone else who thinks it would be fun to answer🥹💓😙💓😙

#tbh I don’t know many authors here but I want to change that!!!#bc it’s funny I actually started out writing #and these fanarts were just a way for me to add some illustrations #but then I got sucked in and here we are……..#this was fun to think about though bc writing was my FIRST foray into the fandom but I neglect it a lot🥹🥹#hogwarts legacy #hphl #hogwarts legacy fanfic #also it’s funny bc I went to the Imelda x poppy tag #and literally everything is just my art😆😆 I’m sketching up my next one of them NOW

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fr-likes-chocolate · 11 months ago

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THERE IS PHILZA ANGST AND I FOUND A SONG, LET THERE BE A ONESHOT lol not a oneshot I’m making more

(inspired by this song) (mainly the end)

Everyone was worried for Phil, he had dark bags under his eyes and scars that were too fresh to be from purgatory. Of course, the islanders had their rumors about why Phil was a wreck, he had a run-in with the federation, or the stress of single-handedly caring for two eggs was getting to him.

Phil only let the people he was closest to know why he was a mess, that meant Fit, Etoiles, and Missa. he did not want to worry others, they had bigger problems to worry about.

As the days dragged on, Phil’s hallucinations steadily increased in size, getting to the point where Phil would fall asleep on Quesadilla Island, and wake up in Endlantis. When this happened he shakily opened his communicator and call for Fit or Etoiles.

His hallucinations weren't all bad, sometimes he was in a large forest, feeling Rose’s influence all around him, or walking among quartz pillars in the nether, or by a beach, content to watch to ocean.

However, that didn't stop Phil from isolating himself from the others, making everyone worried.

After a full month of madness, Phil finally decided that he wouldn't hide anymore. He made his way to an abandoned field, waiting until the hallucinations started. It did not take long for the world to change, the ground condensing into endstone and the sky turning dark and cold.

“Ender king!” Phil screamed, “I've come to stop this torment!” He glanced around, waiting, no, praying for some sign of a response. The very air seemed to mock him, how naive he was to try and confront the Ender king!

Foolish crow... You dare challenge me on my own turf? You didn’t even bring anyone to help you, how do you expect to get away, let alone stop me?

Void tendrils seeped from the ground, pulling at Phil’s clothing, he pulled away from the tendrils and ran, this was a horrible idea! He pulled up the chat as he ran, clumsily typing for someone to help him.

Ph1lza: I need help

FitMC: where are you?

Etoiles: what happened??

Ph1lza: I cant type coords, find me on the map. Please come quick, its gotten out of hand.

Fit immediately jumped up, he knew what ‘it’ was, he quickly located Phil on the mini-map, he was over 500 blocks away from the closest warp, Fit cursed under his breath before warping. As soon as he got there, he checked what direction he was going before running. Minutes ticked by as Fit ran, he could see flashes of what looked like Etoiles, Bad, or Foolish. It hardly mattered as they all had the same goal, getting to Phil.

They wouldn't think anything of it, but when they ran, plants and trees moved to make a clear path, almost as if nature itself wanted to help Phil.

~~~~

Phil’s legs burned as he pushed himself to his limit, he couldn't keep this up for long. He was so tired...

As Phil jumped to avoid another void spike as he dashed into an open field, he looked around for the best place to run to when suddenly he heard someone call out his name. There on the left was Fit! He dashed towards him, seeing others break the treeline. “FIT!” Phil screamed, feeling the void tendrils trying to trip or pull him.

“Phil! Grab my hand!” Fit shouted, holding his hand out. Phil lunged for Fits hand, he was so close! Just grab on and-

A void tendril grabbed Phil’s foot, the teleportation magic working immediately, Phio disappeared into a shimmer of ender particles, leaving only his hat behind.

Fit gasped, searching the area for where Phil could have gone. “Phil?!” Etoiles looked around frantically. “What on earth?! He just disappeared...” Bad muttered. Fit sighed, “I think I know what happened... Tell me, have you heard of the Ender king?”

(part 2 here)

#Spotify #qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #hardcore philza #ender king #Hardcore Rose #< implied #qsmp fitmc #phil’s lore has a choakhold on me cant you tell?#Btw for the song it's like the hardcore deities talking to phil :)

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justmeinadaze · 2 years ago

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The King, The Bat, and The Runaway Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Not sure why this took me a billion years to complete but alas lol what's odd is I like writing for this three this way...maybe all the angst lol but it kills me to! I've said it before I hate (love) reading stories where couples have spent time apart for one reason another but pinning...ugh. Maybe it's cause I've experienced it with an ex and that hurt sucks lol

I do want to write like an alternate time line where she does go looking for them after like 5 years or something. Or even one where they do get on a plane and follow her to Europe to find her. Or both. Hey... I'm flexible lol

Warnings: Steddie relationship and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut for sure with angst and feels, they do have a conversation where they show off their scars to each other and talk about what happened within those 10 years, mentions of domestic abuse and shitty relationships (its brief), flashbacks involving Eddie first being in Hawkins so there are mentions of the bruises from his dad :(, um...I think that's it.

Word Count: 4559

You stare into the void of your closet, tuning out your boyfriend as he shouts at you from the bedroom.

“I don’t understand why you insist on avoiding this question every damn time! I get they are based on people you knew in high school but the way you write them… it feels like you were in love with them!”

Sighing you hang up your dress from that evening and come out in your pajamas.

“Let it go, Noah. It doesn’t matter. They are kids I used to know. End of story.”

“See, Y/N, it’s not ‘end of story’ because you’re still writing said story!”, he points at the manuscript on your desk. “Why won’t you tell me more?”

“Ugh. I’m done having this argument. I’m going to bed. You can either join me or go home.”

Noah exhales as he places his hands on his hips before sitting on the edge of you bed. “Y/N, baby. I love you so much. I just… You keep this locked up so tight. Should I be worried?”

You softly smile as you sit beside him and kiss his cheek. “Honey, you are the only man in the world for me.”

He smiles as he places a peck on your lips. “I better be. Okay, let me take a shower and then I’ll go to bed with you. Hey, you probably already know this but your favorite band released a new single today. You should listen to it. Tell me if it’s amazing.”

After he shuts the bathroom door, you immediately grab your headphones and search for Corroded Coffins new song. You leaned against your pillow, closing your eyes as Eddie’s voice filled your ears.

#################

You smiled tenderly in their direction, neither one of them making any real move towards you. After making a decision, you take one of Steve’s hands, bringing him to the bed and placing him next to Eddie. Your skirt falls to the floor as you kick it to the side before slowly unbuttoning your blouse and tossing it away as well.

“I’m, uh, I know I don’t exactly look the same but—”

“Don’t.”, Eddie cuts you off. “Don’t even finish that sentence. You’re still fucking gorgeous.”

“What happened here?” Steve’s fingers gently traced along a scar on your outer thigh.

“I’m an idiot.”, you laugh. “I went hiking on this remote island off the coast and tripped. They warned us about slick slopes but I’m me so… cut a big gash that bled everywhere.”

“What about this one?” Eddie points to a small but noticeable scratch on your arm.

“My literary agent and I were coming back from an event and someone hit our car. We were fine but some glass from the window cut me. Here to.” You lift his fingers to graze the much tinier scar on your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger on a circular scar near your ribs. “Oh, you don’t want to hear about that one.”

“Hey. Yeah, I do.”, he gently tugs on you so your more in front of him. “It looks deep.”

“When I got home from traveling, I met this guy…We weren’t together very long but—”

“He hurt you.” Steve’s voice filled with anger.

You hung your head. “He didn’t mean to. We got into a fight and he meant to throw something behind me but hit me instead. After that, I uh, did what I do best….I ran.” When you finally found the courage to look at them again, they both seemed extremely upset. “See, I told you didn’t want to hear about this.”

“No, hey, no.” Eddie pulled you so you were back in front of him. “We do. We just… hate that you experienced that…especially alone.”

“Because we would have beat his ass.”

“That’s for damn sure.” You grin as they both laugh.

The metalhead brushes your hair away from your face before leaning back to lift off his shirt. Your grin stretches further along your face as the pads of your fingers trace all the new tattoos, hovering over the heart you noticed when you saw him play.

“I got that one after we signed with our first label. If I had known you were going to refer to me as a vampire, I would have gotten some like Dracula teeth or something.”, he chuckled.

“What did you say when he got it?”, you asked Steve.

“Pfft. I didn’t even know he got it until over a year later. Mr. Sex Appeal here took off his shirt at the first concert I was finally able to make and I won’t lie, it surprised me. I don’t hate it though. Better than this other bullshit.”

“Wow. Rude.”, Eddie teases. He turns his attention back to you and twists his body so you can see the scar on his back. “We were playing at one of those festivals and I was fucking wasted. I jumped into the crowd and those kids fucking dropped me; landed on some glass on the floor. I kept playing though.”

He lifts his hips as he pushed his pants and boxers to the floor. Steve grabs your hand, tugging you out of Eddie’s way and onto his lap. You leaned your head against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You absorbed all the never-before-seen tattoos on his thighs and calves as he points to a scar on his right leg. “About 5 years ago I was dating this girl who was just off the walls. We got into a bad argument in our hotel and she went full Sid and Nancy literally throwing a fucking knife at me! Jeff drove me to the hospital and I needed like ten stitches.”

“How come I didn’t hear about this?”, Steve asked.

“Probably because our manager kept it out of the papers AND paid her off as long as she agreed to stay away from me.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?”

“Sir, you’re a lawyer. I aint tellin’ you shit.” You giggled as Eddie laughed. “No, man. I was just a little embarrassed. Everyone warned me about her but… Plus you were doing so well with what’s her name at the time.”

“Ah, yes. What’s her name.” Steve grins sarcastically as he unbuttons his shirt and points to the long scar leading from the top of his belly button to just below his chest. “Yeah, things were going so well, I needed surgery to remove the ulcers she gave me.”

“Steve, oh my god.” You pushed him back as he balanced on his arms so you could get a better look.

“You told me you were getting your appendix removed, you asshole!”

“I told you that because you were on tour and I didn’t want you to cut that short to come stay with me in the hospital because I know you would have. It’s fine. The doctor said it was a routine type thing.”

“Did your mom or dad come?” You feel yourself start to panic slightly.

“Of course not. You know my family.” He chuckles but stops when he sees that look in your eyes. “Hey seriously. It wasn’t a big thing.”

“You were all alone in a hospital having surgery. I…I would have been there. I didn’t know. I…”

“Y/N, honey, it’s okay. I know you would have.”, he kisses your cheek. “That’s why I didn’t tell your parents either.” Steve sighs as he turns to Eddie. “I told Michelle—”

“I’m still calling her what’s her name.”

“AND she said I was being overdramatic. When I came back home, she was gone, thank God. That relationship was the worst. She was basically a 5’4 version of my father. I didn’t realize it till after I got sick.”

He taps your back with his fingers and you take the hint, sliding over to sit on Eddie’s lap as he slides off his slacks and underwear. “Do I have any on my legs?”, he mumbles as he looks. “Oh! That case you guys mentioned last night? I didn’t just add money to the settlement but a couple of weekends I went over there to help them with some other things if they needed it. One family had a roof that was leaking and damaging their ceiling. Me and some of the other people were able to help fix it for a cheap price but my dumbass slipped off the ladder. Thankfully, I just cut my knee.” Steve gestures towards the line along his knee.

“So, nothing has changed in ten years. We’re all still clumsy and we all pick terrible fucking partners.” You and Steve laugh but Eddie just sits there smiling up at you.

“I think I made a good choice in choosing you that night.” His arms wrap tighter around your waist as he leans his head onto your chest. “Shit, every time I chose you, good things always followed.” Your fingers tangled in his hair as his lips travelled up your skin to your neck. “I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.” His palm gently rested against your cheek as he guided your lips to his.

###################

“Class! Settle!”, the teacher claps her hands, trying to be heard. “Now I want you all to welcome our new student here. This is Edward Munson.”

“Freak.” Jason Carver pretends to hide his remark behind a cough as you roll your eyes. The teacher scowls at him as she lightly pushes the new boy towards an empty seat.

He definitely was different than a lot of the people around here; at least visually. The only contact he made with anyone was glaring at Carver as he passed him to his desk. His hair was buzzed to the point that he was almost bald. The black shirt he wore hung off his frame, seemingly two sizes too big but when he leaned over to put his backpack on the floor his sleeve rose and you noticed the bruises on his arm that looked like fingerprints.

Your heart broke from him as you connected those bruises to the black eye that was prominent on his face. This boy had been through something awful.

When lunch came around, you found him sitting alone at a table near the window, his arms folded across his chest defensively.

“Hi. I’m, uh, Y/N. Is it ok if I join you?” Eddie sighed through his nose as his jaw tightened. You slowly descended into the chair in front of him. “I see you didn’t get any food. You can share some of mine if you want. I never finish it anyway.”

You found yourself getting self-conscious as he continued to glare out the window. “So…how do you like it here—”

“Can’t you people just leave me alone?!” His sharp tone made you jump.

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me.” You get up and move a couple chairs down, away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches you pull a book out of your bag as you pick at your tray.

The table shuffles as he stands up and you keep your eyes on the pages in front of you as you hear the screeching of the chair being pulled back across from you.

“Have…have you read that book before?”, he asks. You glance over at him before placing your novel down on the table.

“Invasion of the Body Snatchers? No but in class they showed us the black and white movie. It was so cool so I begged my mom to buy me the book.” Eddie’s eyes meet yours for a brief moment before he glares down at the floor. “Have you read it?”

Eddie slowly nods his head. “Have you seen the 70s movie they made? It’s actually pretty scary.”

“There’s another movie!? I didn’t know that. You should come over to my house sometime and we can watch it.” His eyes widen in amusement at your excitement making you panic slightly. “I mean you don’t have to, of course. I just…I think you seem cool and I think it would be fun to hang out with you.”

“You think I seem cool?”

“Yeah, and don’t let people like Jason “douchebag” Carver get you down. Don’t let him make you think otherwise, okay?” For the first time since you saw him, a smile gradually paints his lips and you return it with one of your own. “Do you want some of my pretzels, Edward?”

He leans forward taking the snack that you offer him. “Eddie. I prefer Eddie.”

###############

You revel in the taste of him as his tongue invades your mouth and you gently guide him back against the mattress. His hands abruptly grip your hips when he feels you begin to grind against him.

“Wait. Wait, wait. Shit. I just… I’ve been wanting to taste you again so fucking bad.”

You smirk as you playful squint at him. “Are you not devouring me right now?”

“Not yet.” Eddie winks before lifting you, spinning you around so your hands and knees were on the bed, your ass displayed before him.

As you searched for the other man, Eddie’s tongue licked a long stripe through your sex causing you to close your eyes as you moaned. A strong hand reached for your face, pulling you to a set of lips that tasted like a mixture of mint and whiskey from the previous night.

Steve.

You reached for his neck pulling him closer to you as Eddie’s tongue moved in and out of your entrance, whining when you feel him abruptly move away.

“Shit, Harrington. I’m being selfish. You didn’t get to taste her pussy last time, did you?”

“Not directly. You coated my fingers so I literally only got a taste.”, he chuckles.

The bed jostles as they switch places and you cry out when you feel a tongue enter your body again. Steve’s technique was much different than Eddie’s. While the metalhead seemed to play with his food, the other man knew exactly what he wanted, hitting every sensitive spot with an aggressive passion that had you seeing stars.

“F-fuck, Steve. Just like…don’t stop. Ed-Eddie?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He came around towards your end of the bed, stumbling forward as you reached for his cock and wrapped your lips around him. “Jesus! Whoa. Slow down, baby. Mmm-- it’s ok.” Eddie’s hands lifted your hair into a ponytail so he could watch you take him.

You pulled back, pumping him as your eyes looked up into his. “Don’t—mmm—Don’t want slow. 10 years was—fuck—slow enough.”

He smirked at you. “Did you hear that, Stevie?” The boy didn’t verbally responded but you felt his head shake against you as his lips wrapped around your clit.

“Show me…show me the men you are now…please. Please, please. Fuck!”

Your body trembled as the coil snapped and you came, your upper half falling flat against the mattress.

##################

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Steven Harrington.”

You didn’t even glance his way as you continued putting books in your locker. You were supposed to meet Eddie near the front of the school so you two could bike over to the movie theater to see District 9 and you didn’t want to keep your best friend waiting especially for King Steve.

“I was thinking you and I could go out sometime. Maybe go see a movie or something.”

“Wow. I’m not sure why you would think that. Now fuck off and leave me alone.”

As you shut your locker and start to leave, he loops around you, blocking your path.

“Shit. Look I’m sorry. Believe it or not I’m not very good at this. I just…always see you at lunch with the other kid that makes you laugh and hearing it… I think you’re really beautiful and sweet so I thought I’d shoot my shot, you know?”

As you listened to him speak, you took note of his demeanor and words. What stood out to you most was that he didn’t refer to Eddie as a freak like the other kids did. He seemed so jittery as he bounced on the balls of his feet and as he said that last sentence his eyes shifted nervously to the floor.

“I’ll, um, leave you alone now. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

“Steve?”, you called as he started heading down the hall. “Eddie and I were going to go see a movie tonight. Would you want to tag along?”

“Oh. Um…is it ok with him? I don’t want to impose.”

“Naw, he’ll be fine. He may seem scary on the outside but he’s a sweet person. Plus, for some reason, he trusts my judgement. If I trust you than he will to.”

Steve flashes you a big toothy grin. “Ok. Sounds like fun.”

“And just so we are clear, Harrington! This is not a date. I don’t like you like that, okay?”

################

Steve’s hands roughly grabbed your hips, lifting your ass higher in the air as he guided his cock into your entrance. You both moaned at the feeling before he gradually pulled back until it was just his tip, watching between your bodies as he pushed himself back in. As your eyes rolled back, you clawed at the sheets underneath you, relishing in the feeling of him again.

He bent over you, placing his chest against your back as his hand came around to grip your jaw.

Opening your eyes, you were met with Eddie’s face as he kneeled in front of you.

“Does he feel good?” You nod your head as he moves some hair away from your face. “Tell him, Y/N. I think he’s earned it.”

Steve’s lips kissed your shoulder before he aggressively delivered slow, hard thrusts that pushed him so deep he punched the air from your lungs.

“Steve! Fuck… feels… amazing.”

He pushed up on to his knees pounding into you as you whimpered, your upper half collapsing flat on the bed, allowing him to take what was his. What was always his and Eddie’s. No matter how many men you had dated or been with, hell even before graduation night, your heart belonged to them.

“Steve, I…fuck… I love you. I love you both.”

His movements stalled as he and the metalhead exchanged a look. The man leaned over you again, his breath warming your ear.

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes. I love you so much. I missed you.”

He slowly began pumping into you once more, his hand sliding under your body and reaching to circle your clit.

“I love you to, honey. Cum for me, Y/N, please. I’ve waited so long to feel you again.”

With your body pushing back against his, the coil snapped and you mewled into the mattress below you.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck. Can…can we cum inside you?”

Your arm reached behind you to bring your lips to his. “Please, Steve. I need you to.”

His strong hand held the back of your neck, pressing you into the bed as he chased his high. The sounds of his grunts echoes through the room before his hips sputtered and you felt his spend warm your insides.

#################

“Yes! We are finally free! Ha ha!”, Eddie tosses his graduation cap in the air and away from you three.

“Really, Ed?” Wayne shakes his head as he smiles.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you guys!” Your mom excitedly hugs the three of you. “Steve, sweetie, where’re your parents?”

“Uh, Sweden, I think.”

You wrap your arms around him as he does the same.

“So…what’s the plan for the night?” Your dad quickly tries to change the subject which the boy appreciates.

“Well, Mr. Y/L/N, we are going back to my trailer—”

“MY trailer.”, Eddie’s uncle interrupts.

“And we’re going to sit on the floor, reading the bible and going over college applications.”

You and Steve laugh at the metalhead as your mom rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just stay safe and don’t do anything stupid. Now get together I want to take a picture.”

Wayne obnoxiously forces his nephew’s graduation cap back on his head before stepping out of frame as Eddie wraps one arm around your back as you do the same. As he holds up the rock and roll symbol with his fingers, you and Steve can’t help but laugh as the camera flashes.

###########

Steve collapses on top of you as you both try to catch your breath. Your hand reaches behind you, your fingers running through his sweaty hair as you gently place your lips on his. He rolls off you and as you turn on to your back, you are met with Eddie’s soft but passion filled kisses.

“You ok, sweetheart? Do you need anything?”, he whispers.

Grinning, you climb onto your knees and wrap your arms around his neck. “I need you.”

He smiles as he kisses you again, his own fingers running through your messy hair.

“Do you want me to show you how rockstars do it?” Eddie playfully sticks out his tongue when you giggle and nod. “Keep your arms around me, ok?”

“Always.”

His smile grew as he hooked his own tattooed arms under both your knees and lifted you into the air. After adjusting you slightly, he moved his hips, thrusting his cock inside of you. Your jaw went slack as your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, never feeling anyone this deep inside of you or at this angle. The muscles in his shoulders and chest tensed as he pumped into you.

“Oh…oh my god, Eddie. Please.”

His eyes scanned your face before your forehead fell against his. “Fuck, Y/N. I missed you so much. Mmm-I love you to, baby. I…I never stopped.”

You gripped your arms around him tighter as you lifted your hips to meet his, your pussy fluttering around him as you watch his eyes roll back and close.

Eddie swivels his body around falling flat with you onto the bed, unhooking your limbs from his neck and lifting your leg over his shoulder, holding it for leverage as he pounded into you.

You whimpered as his thumb abruptly came down to play with your clit.

“Please…please, please, please, Eddie!”, you begged; your body trembling as you came.

The metalhead hovered over you, his hair lightly brushing against the sides of your face as his beautiful eyes penetrated yours. Your palms reached up to cup his face as his pace quickened nearing his own release.

“Cum for me, baby. Please. I need you to cum inside of me just like Steve did.”

Just as he had on graduation night, his head fell into the nook between your neck and shoulder, his hips faltering before you felt him thrusting his seed deep into your pussy.

You try and cover the hiss that leaves your lips as Eddie pulls out knowing how he’ll react.

“Fuck, princess. I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you did I.” He smiles as he watches you laugh. “What?”

“Steve’s right. You’re a big rockstar yet you’re still exactly the same. No, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just sore.”

Steve comes around to the side with a rag in his hand and gently cleans between your legs. “Do you need anything? I’m sure Hugh Heffner here has a pretty awesome shower.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at his friend. “I do actually but I also imagine Elle Woods over there also has an expensive shower so he needs to calm down.”

#################

“Steve. Steve. Jesus fucking Christ, STEVEN!”

Steve rolled over onto his back slowly, trying carefully not to move you too much. “What, Munson? Lower you voice.”

“Y/N’s not here.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?” He fully opens his eyes as he reaches for you but to his dismay his friend was right. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in the trailer or outside anywhere but all her stuff is gone.”

The man immediately bounced up from the bed and started reaching for his clothes. “Maybe…maybe she went to go food or something.”

“Without telling us? Or hell even inviting us. That’s not like her.”

“Yeah but neither was last night…”

Eddie grabbed one of his shirts from the floor as he waited for Steve to get dressed. “Did we fuck up?” The other man was silent as he tied his shoes. “Do you regret it?”

He rose to his feet and collected his keys. “No. I mean… she’s our girl, right? I’ve never…cared about anyone the way I do her. She makes me feel—”

“Wanted.”, Eddie finished. “Yeah… I know how you feel. I don’t regret it either.”

Steve pats his back comfortingly. “Come on, dude. Let’s go find her.”

#############

Steve woke up to the sound of thunder crashing against the house. His head leaned back against the pillow as he listened to the sound of Eddie snoring next to him. A familiar sense of panic washed through him when he reached over and realized you weren’t in the bed with them.

He hastily tossed back his covers, grabbing his boxers as he flew down the hallway. His hand gripped his chest when he found you in one of Eddie’s band t-shirts, leaning against the backdoor as you watched the rain.

You smiled when you saw him standing there offering him the cup of coffee in your hand.

“You phone buzzed a few times. It may be your law firm but they can’t seem to get along without you.”, you giggle until you notice that panicked look in his eyes. “Steve? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I just woke up and—”

“And I wasn’t there. Fuck, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think. It started to rain and rockstar has a nice view.”

“You know, you two keep making fun of me and my house but I didn’t hear any complaints.” Eddie saunters into the room, coming up behind you as he wraps his arm around you and rests his chin on your head.

“Your phone kept going off too, Eds. To be fair, we did sleep all day but damn.”

“No one’s bugging you?”

“No one I care about more than you two right now.” You grin as Steve leans down to kiss your lips before Eddie gently pulls your hair to do the same. “I, um, I don’t actually have a permanent address I’m attached to. Before a book launch, they have me on the road. I was thinking, maybe, I could get an apartment or something near your firm.”

“Why don’t you move in with me? You and Eddie…if you guys want to. I mean I’m sure Munson has like 50 mansions but—”

“I’m not Mick fucking Jagger.”, he laughs. “I have this house and a relatively large house near the beach in California with the guys. All I have to do is pack a bag and my guitar.”

They both look at you with earnest, waiting for your answer.

“Let’s do it.”, you smile. “Geez, when word gets out, I guess people are going to finally figure out who The King and The Vampire are based on. Maybe now they’ll stop asking me who The Runaway is in love with.”

“Who IS she in love with?”, Steve grins snarkily in your direction.

You meet his sarcastic smile with one of your own.

“Both.”

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year ago

Note

Since 2016 I knew about the law of assumption, I was struggling hardcore with my mom and was looking for ways to make money and out of the blue a law of attraction video pop up, tried that, it was hell then search on google to get more info then I saw law of assumption, search it and apparently all I had to do was affirm ofc I didn’t believe my affirmation and the “law” but the person said to persist ( and I was desperate)so I decided to manifest my mom having 10k ( with fcking tears in my eye because we REALLY needed to pay rent plus my baby sis and I didn’t eat anything for a week) then boom 8 mins after my grandmother called and said she has 5k to give us and my mom was sooooooo fcking happy I was grateful but I wanted 10k( because I remembered the woman said don’t settle for less) then after the landlady called my mom and said she needs to collect her Cheque in the mailbox but the fcking thing is my mom check that same fcking morning and few minutes before to see anything for us and nothing just spiders, so my mom went and collect it only to see we have over 5k in the cheque and obviously tears was spilled and a lot of shouting my mom went on her knees to thank god but I didn’t tell her anything honestly just let her do her thing and she even made my sis and I thank god which I did obviously, then I decided to play a little greedy and manifest my mom to give my sis and I a little 100$ to shop ( for snacks and drinks)and few seconds after she told us to organize and then handed my sis and I a 100$ to buy anything we want,that day made me believe the law is real and I continue manifesting a lot of things from there, just affirming and persisting because that’s how I was taught it and it worked for me.

I downloaded tumblr because some people in the comments said it had more info and success story, downloaded it in 2017 and didn’t know how to handle so I deleted it then 2019 decided to download it again and I get a better understanding of the app and I did see success stories and other stuff about the law apparently but I choose to ignore I just search got7 stuff ( huge kpop fan back in the day) deleted and came back here in 2022 and saw stufff about the void and saw success stories to I decided to try it just to test it and honestly I got through because I saw a whole lot of affirmation and I was lazy so I only use one but I got in in the first try felt extremely comfortable but exit the fck out because my life is already perfect the way it is, I just lay on my back and said I am the void ( even though it was uncomfortable) while falling asleep and apparently I discovered I did the lullaby method but yeah, states vs a+p doesn’t make sense honestly because I see a lot of people write stuff in journals and got what they wanted an 369 method and so on, so it was very funny to me watching a+p and states fighting honestly they look extremely dumb and ignorant but it is what it is I’m enjoying life with my method which is a+p and just on tumblr for a fandom I’m in (yes K-pop)

Congrats! It’s wonderful how you used the law and changed your life for the better. I hope everyone takes something out of this post lol.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #my asks #law of attraction #void state #void success

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maydaydiaz · 5 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/maydaydiaz/752830417395122176/httpswwwtumblrcommaydaydiaz75282572274006425

I am genuinely fascinated in like a weird psychology social experiment kinda way, in what the bummy fans will do once Tommy is gone tbh lol.

Like are they going to try and burn everything to the ground? Are they going to try and just quietly slot themselves back into the buddie fandom and gaslight everyone into thinking they never left? Are they going to just stop watching the show and go follow Lou to swat or whatever other show he joins? Do they realize when Tommy leaves if they try and slot back to the USS Buddie, all the blogs that have blocked them, and all the people they hurt and burnt bridges with will still be there with them blocked and those bridges burnt? Will they just abandon their blogs they have had for years and make new ones in an attempt to regain those followers that blocked them? Like what is the game plan for them at the end here.

hi anon!!

same honestly at this point the entire relationship and the reaction from those shippers feels like some weird social experiment lol, like how can they genuinely believe what they’re saying and doing without feeling a little insane?? i don’t know

i’m exactly the same it’s going to be so weirdly interesting to see what they do because they’ve gone so hard for a ship that clearly is not going to last - they’ve painted themselves into a corner which is just going to be hilarious to see them try and worm their way out of when it does end

and they’ve been non-stop mentioning how buddie shippers are the toxic ones and alienated themselves from the rest of the fandom that i don’t see how they’re gonna rejoin the wider fandom, like some of the stuff they’ve said about other characters and actors, the things they’ve excused and the crazy hc’s they’ve come up with, there’s little chance they’d be welcomed back, they’d just be shouting into the void

i hope they follow lou and his wooden acting wherever he goes and stay far away from this show (which wouldn’t be hard for them bc we all know they’ve only been watching for like 6 eps) and the characters they clearly don’t understand

#anon ask #911 abc #anti lou ferrigno jr #anti tommy kinard

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simple-seranade · 2 years ago

Text

Repair My Broken Gears

Something is wrong with Scar. Cleo regrets signing up for this.

(That’s a lie. They’re terrified what would have been if they hadn’t.)

CW: loneliness, arguing? that’s about it

in which sera takes a single line of dialogue scar had about knowing loneliness and runs with it

(also i was thinking of @stiffyck the entire time i was writing this so like. sorry if this tag is unwanted lol)

>>>>>>>>>*<<<<<<<<<

Look, Cleo isn’t worried. She isn’t. She isn’t.

But-

It’s just-

She sighs, running a hand through their tangled orange hair as they watch Bdubs and Scar bicker and laugh by the animals.

It’s something about the way Scar seems so insistent on finding a way to be useful. How he makes off-handed comments about knowing what it’s like to be alone, accompanied by a flippant laugh that does nothing to quell the small pit that grows in Cleo’s stomach at the words. How his face will fall for a split second when Cleo jokes not to call them “mom” before bouncing back to that damn grin of his. How that grin becomes so much more real when she does something as simple as toss him some food or ruffle his hair.

So no, Cleo isn’t worried. Just… healthily concerned.

They can practically hear Joe lecturing them about emotional awareness. He is so lucky he doesn’t come to these things, otherwise she would be whittling his clock down without a second thought.

A shout rings out across entertainment mountain, and Cleo sees Scar holding Bdubs’ clock- the one Impulse gave him, not his countdown- above his head, well out of the shorter man’s reach. As Bdubs lets out a string of words that sound way cruder than they actually are, she sighs. She should probably go stop them before one of them falls off of the mountain. Again.

Void, she really did just pick two idiots to team with, didn’t she?

Still, as she approaches the two men, she can’t find it in her to regret it.

“Scar! Bdubs!”

Their gazes snap towards her, eyes wide. Bdubs is the first to start talking.

“Mom-“

“Not your mom.”

“-he took my clock!”

Scar quickly stuffs his hands in his pockets, trying and failing to look nonchalant. “What? No I didn’t!”

Cleo raises an eyebrow at him.

“… ok, I did, but he started it!”

“I DID NOT!” Bdubs tugs on Scar’s arm, trying to get his hand- and subsequently, the shorter man’s clock- out of his pocket. This, to no one’s surprise, does not work, mostly because Scar is a good foot and a half taller than Bdubs. This does not stop him from trying.

This also does not stop them from bickering with steadily increasing volume.

“Hey, hey, hands off the merchandise, Bdubs!”

“I put my hands where I darn well please! You keep your hands off my stuff!”

“I don’t have your stuff!”

“Bullcrap! I see it in your pocket!”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Jeez! If I had known I’d be getting conned with my own schtuff I’d have had second thoughts about this team-up!”

It’s almost unnoticeable, so quick that Cleo can almost convince herself she imagined it. But, for a split second, Scar flinches.

“I- Well, it’s what I do, Bdubs!”

“You con and lie and bully! This is bullying!”

Void, Cleo does not get paid enough for this.

“BOYS!”

The two men freeze in their tracks.

“Scar, give Bdubs his clock back. Bdubs, apologize for yelling- actually, wait, both of you apologize for yelling.” They cross their arms, staring the men down.

Bdubs sputters. “What- no, I’m not apologizing, why wou-“

He’s cut short by a soft clinking sound. With wide eyes, he looks between his hands, where his golden clock now sits, and Scar, whose gaze is fixed firmly on the ground as he turns away.

“Sorry, Bdubs. I’ll just- yeah. You’re good. Sorry.”

“I- sorry, Scar, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, no, you’re fine! You can just- you stay here with Mo- Cleo, I’m gonna go get- get some air.”

“Scar, wait-“

Bdubs’ words fall on deaf ears as Scar hops off the rocks, towards the base of the mountain. He turns to Cleo, brow furrowed. “Was it something I said? Did I-“

“I don’t know, Bdubs.” The pit in her stomach is back, gnawing and twisting as she stares at the spot where Scar just was.

“… what do we do?” His voice is quiet, so unlike how it normally sounds. It makes Cleo want to shake him until he’s back to his usual self.

“We don’t do anything.” She sighs, turning to face her friend. “You go ahead and get some rest. I’ll talk to him.”

“But-!”

“No buts.”

Bdubs sags, his shoulders slouching considerably. Cleo reaches forward, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Bdubs.” She waits until he looks up, meeting their eyes. “It’ll be ok, alright?”

Bdubs pauses before nodding hastily. “Of course, of course- I- I have no doubt. The great Bdubs just- just needs to go get some sleep.”

“You go do that.” They squeeze his shoulder one last time before letting go, turning towards the edge of the mountain.

“Goodnight Mom!”

“I will stab you in your sleep!” She tosses over her shoulder as she carefully slips down, doing her best to take minimal fall damage.

Scar is… much farther down than they expected. It takes a good minute of scaling down to finally see him, walking around with a frantic fervor and muttering under his breath. The words become clearer as they approach, and with them, so does the anxious feeling creeping in her mind.

“… can’t go back up to the chests. There goes my chance at a monopoly. Still, it’s between that or them being mad at me for taking stuff and then-“

“Scar?”

The man freezes in his tracks. Cleo takes a step closer.

“Scar, what was that up there for?” She tries to keep her words from being cruel, but receives a flinch nonetheless. She’s not sure how she expects him to respond, but…

“Sorry, I’m leaving. It- It’ll not happen again, no need to worry!” The upbeat tone has no place with the shaky voice and trembling hands accompanying it as he begins pacing again.

“You know Bdubs wasn’t actually that mad about the clock, he’s just like that-“

“No, no, he had every right to be, right? I was being a bad teammate. But- but don’t worry, I am getting out of your hair-!”

“Scar.”

Silence.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“But I do!” He faces them now, finally faces them, but they almost wish he hadn’t. His face is still in that wide smile, bright as the sun, even as tears run down his cheeks. “That’s how this works, right? Scar’s alone! Again! All he does is lie and cheat, he doesn’t care. Just betray him! You mean nothing to him anyways!” His chest heaves with unshed sobs, and his eyes are screwed shut.

“It’s not like I can bring anything else to the team,” he continues. “After all, I die and I die and I die, I die and try to make stupid deals that only an idiot would take! Which makes me the biggest idiot of all, right? I-“

No one knows what he was going to say next, because in the same moment, a pair of arms wraps around him impossibly tight. He can’t stifle the gasp that escapes him at the contact, the warm warm warmth that enveloped him as Cleo squeezes, making his ribs creak and his heart swell. His tongue feels useless in his mouth, any words he could say stopped up in his throat.

“Scar, I want you to listen to me.” Cleo murmurs, not letting go. “We don’t want you here because you’re useful, or pity, or any of that. We want you here for you.”

He tries to talk, void he tries, but all that escapes his lips is a high-pitched keen. Cleo- beautiful, crazy, kind Cleo- simply hugs him tighter, rubbing a hand on his back so firmly and gently that it makes his heart ache.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Let it out. We don’t want you to leave, the exact opposite.” She leans forward, resting her forehead on his. “We love you, Scar. We don’t want you to be alone.”

That’s all it takes for the dam to break.

Three games’ worth of pent-up sobs echo through the landscape as Scar sags, crying into Cleo’s shoulder. They hold him up, carding their fingers through his tangled hair. She doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t need to, because her arms are around Scar and she’s here and she isn’t leaving-

He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, how he’s atoned for all his sins enough that he has Bdubs to tackle him in excitement when Cleo leads him back to their home. He doesn’t think he’s done enough to warrant one person being stuck with him in one of these horrid games, especially two people.

He doesn’t want to let it go, though.

The universe ticks down. Their lives lose length with every passing second they spend like this.

But they aren’t alone, none of them, and they won’t be again.

(And if Cleo doesn’t chastise Scar the next time he calls her Mom? Well, nobody needs to know that.)

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espresso-ships · 3 months ago

Text

Idiots - Varganardi Oneshot

AHHH my very first self insert fanfiction! I usually write x reader ones, and this is the first one I write for me ashhshs Hope y'all like it!

Words: 1.8K Warnings: Hurt/comfort & lot of cussing lol (lmk if I should add something more <3)

“Can I tell you what I think?”

Sigh.

“...What do you think?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

Silence.

“So what? What if I am, what difference does it make?”

“Tell her.”

“You make it sound so damn easy.” He scoffed.

“Nacho, it is easy. Maybe she feels the same-”

“Feels the same?? What fucking fantasy world do you live in, huh?!”

Silence, again.

Nacho sighed and rubbed his forehead. He felt relieved that Domingo couldn’t see his face. That he couldn’t see the tears of anger or the pain in his eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just… Complicated.”

“I know, Nacho. But trust me. She feels the same.”

“How the hell would you know?”

Silence. Always the damn defying silence. After what felt like eternity, Domingo talked:

“Because she told me.”

Chaos.

That’s what the mansion feels like. Drunk - or high - people everywhere. It’s a new years party, after all. The music, laughter and screams makes it feel like the house is vibrating. And the heat - from at least 50 bodies trapped together in a room with bad air conditioning, and from his own nerves.

It feels like they’re all caged animals, locked together, waiting for tragedy. He doesn’t understand how people can enjoy being squeezed together like this - or maybe they’re all pretending. Just searching for something - someone - to fill the void.

He usually enjoys parties. He is usually one of the people dancing and laughing, with his arms thrown around a pretty stranger. Not tonight.

Nacho fidgets with the first button to the red shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning, over and over. He has barely touched the shot in his glass.

“Are you gonna drink that?” Domingo’s words are slightly slurred, and his grin is wide. He shouts to overvoice the music, but doesn’t seem to mind the volume. At least someone is having fun.

“It’s all yours.” Nacho hands his friend the glass, and he empties it in only a matter of seconds. He grimaces. “You’re gonna be sick, Dom.”

His friend rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, dad. Don’t look so bitter, man!”

Domingo nudges his friend, who rolls his eyes in return. Yet, he chuckles. His eyes wanders across the room, hoping to see his tall friend amongst the sea of people. No sign of her, so far.

“Relax, dude. She’ll be here soon!”

I really hope so. He still has to apologize to Laura, after that ridiculous argument they had last week.

“What did you two even fight about this time?”

Nacho’s mind goes back to the phone call with Domingo yesterday.

“It wasn’t a fight, damnit.” He sighed. “Just a… Disagreement.”

“About…?”

“About her shit-ex. I told her she was stupid if she forgave them after everything they put her through.”

“And?”

“I sounded too angry. She got angry, and we both said things we didn’t mean.” Talking about it made Nacho realize how shitty the situation was. He felt like screaming from frustration. “Fuck, Dom… I really messed up this time.”

“You both did.”

“Yea…” He dreads the answer, yet he asks: “When did she… Tell you?”

“Back when you dated Mona.”

“Dude, that was like 10 months ago! Why the hell didn’t you tell me earlier?!”

“Hey! I’m Laura’s friend too. Besides, she threatened to kick my ass if I told you about her feelings for you.”

“What a damn shit show!” He cussed loudly, almost forgetting Domingo on the other line.

“I’m sorry, man.” He sighs. “But then, Laura got together with… Them. And well, you still dated Mona back then.”

“Yea…”

“And you seriously didn’t know Laura had a crush on you? Like, at all?”

“No, Domingo! I didn’t.” Nacho hissed.

“You’re a damn fool, my friend.”

“Rubbing salt in my wounds.” he muttered, frustrated by Domingo’s teasing.

“You and Laura have been dancing around each other for years. You both are idiots, y’know?”

“I hate you. No… I hate this. This situation? It sucks.”

“I’m so sorry, Nacho.”

Silence, silence, silence.

“So what now?”

“Talk to her, dumbass.”

And that’s the plan.

Nacho refuses to start the new year whilst being in a disagreement with his best friend. Crush. Whatever.

“Damn, look at that girl over there!”

Nacho’s eyes follow to where Domingo’s glare is stuck. He grimaces.

“She’s way out of your league, dude.”

Domingo scoffs and begins a long, drunken rant about something…

That’s when he sees her. A tall figure amongst the crowd of people. Her brown wavy hair, that purple shirt he likes to see her in… And as usual, the high heels - as if being taller than him wasn’t enough.

“Shit, there she is!” He hisses, to gain Domingo’s attention. His friend whistles loudly, and Laura turns her gaze towards them. She looks pissed with someone whistling at her like that, until realizing it’s Domingo.

Shit, shit, shit.

She walks up to them.

“Hey, happy almost new years.”

She greets Domingo with a hug, and despite everything, she embraces Nacho too. He stands frozen, before slowly wrapping his arms around her. He breathes in the scent of her shampoo. Her scent. The hug only lasts for a couple of seconds, but it feels like hours. He wishes it was hours.

“Yo, thirty minutes left until the new year! I need to find someone to kiss.”

With that, Domingo walks off, stumbling forward onto the living room, which is used as a dance floor. And just like that, Nacho and Laura are alone.

Thank you for the support. Nacho will remember to give his friend hell for this. He turns his gaze back to her, and she gives him a sheepish smile. Her. His best friend, the girl he’s known since teen years. They’ve gone through up and down together, and shared so much. Laughter, tears, secrets…

And there it is, the familiar heartache. The urge to run away from the situation, to flee his complicated feelings. Yet, he stands there and looks at her. They both speak, at the same time, the same words. Like they’re telepathetic.

“I’m sorry-” Their voices harmonize.

“You-” Again.

“You first.” Nacho is quick to say.

“You were right, Iggy.”

I did not see that one coming - Nacho thinks.

“I… I’ve ended it with my ex. Once and for all. They’re trash.”

“Laura… I’m so relieved to hear that.” He gathers his thoughts. “I’m sorry, too. For being so harsh on you. I just care about you, Laura.”

“I know, Iggy…” She sighs and uses the nickname that used to drive mad early on in their friendship. But now? He loves it. “I know. And I care about you. And I don’t want us to fight any more.”

“Me neither.” Everything else fades. It’s only them. Laura, and Nacho.

Nacho and Laura.

“We need to talk.” At the same time, again.

“Alright, this is getting creepy.” Laura giggles. “Come on, let’s head out.”

The cold night air hits them, but it’s a nice change from the warm house. A couple of lonely snowflakes fall down to the frozen grass as they walk.

Nacho gathers his thoughts, mentally preparing for what he’s about to say - but he needs to say it. Now.

From inside the mansion, the guests are preparing for midnight. Preparing to celebrate the new year to come. 10 minutes left.

Laura sits down in a sunchair, next to the covered up pool. Nacho awkwardly stands next to her.

“Hey, idiot. Sit down” Laura says, holding back a laughter. She moves to the side and pats the spot next to her. He sits down, very aware of how close they are to each other. Their legs are touching and so are their shoulders. Their exhales come out as steam in the crispy air.

“The reason why I was so harsh, Laura, was because I was jealous. Jealous of your damn ex, because they got to call you theirs.” The words leave his mouth before he can think twice. The sound of the music inside feels louder, and he feels scared to breathe too loudly.

“I don’t know why I said that. I’m sor-”

“I never liked Mona, because I wanted you to be with me. Not her.”

Nacho’s heart skips a beat. He stares at Laura, blinking his eyes - as if trying to process what she just said.

They’re both silent again, but this time, it’s a comfortable silence. The beat of music echoes - or maybe it’s just the beat of his own heart. Her hand finds his, and her fingertips tap against his knuckles. He opens his hand, entwining fingers with her.

They’re so close now. So close. Yet, he wants closer.

“Are we done playing pretend now?” Laura asks.

“Yea. We’re done being idiots. Took us long enough, huh?”

They both grin at each other.

“Yea. You wanna head inside again?”

“Not really. Unless you have a midnight's kiss waiting for you…”

“No, you idiot.” Laura slaps his arm lightly. “Not yet, at least… Do you volunteer?”

His face heats up once again and he nods, failing at trying to act nonchalant.

From inside the house, they hear the shouts, as the countdown begins.

60… 59… 58… 57…

The two friends move even closer to each other - closer than they thought was possible. He can feel her hot breath against his face, and looks into Laura’s green eyes. He can almost see his own reflection in them. He squeezes her hand tighter and leans in. His focus is now solely on her, taking in details about her that he’s never appreciated before. The mole under her left eyes, the freckles on her skin, her crooked nose and the acne scars on her cheeks.

20… 19… 18….

“You’re so damn beautiful, Laura.” He whispers hoarsely. It’s her turn to blush now, too. The intensity that she looks at him with makes him shiver.

“So are you.”

8… 7… 6… 5…

The shouts are getting louder, yet it all seems to fade out.

Nothing else matters - no one else matters.

ZERO.

Their lips meet, and Nacho’s hands tangle into Laura's hair, whilst her hands rest on his back. They pull on each other, trying to be as close as possible. Both of them melt into the kiss and embrace. Now that they finally have each other - no one is allowed to separate them.

“Talk to her, dumbass”

The frustration in Domingo’s voice was clear, and even on a phone call, Nacho could almost see how he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t want to lose her.”

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Silence.

Domingo was right.

So Nacho realizes now, when he holds onto Laura. She rests her head against his shoulder, and Nacho has his arms wrapped around her. He can’t help but look at her. She is smiling, and her eyes are glued on the fireworks lighting up the sky. Realizing that he’s staring, he turns to look at the sky.

Yeah, I love her.

And so, he’ll tell her. Eventually.

AHHHH I hope y'all liked it :3 This idea has been on my mind for quite a while. I really love hurt/comfort stories and realyl like the concept of Laura and Nacho being idiots when it comes to love and relationships LOL So yea - this is basically how they offically became a couple

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