#fun fact: i am in fact sitting alone in a bar as i am writing this! ;)

[zorosangell]

Hi!!! First off I wanna say how AMAZING ur writing is like truly WOW. I loveee how you write jealous Zoro, but I neeeedd some jealous, possessive reader. Reader don’t play about Zoro just as much as he don’t play about her. You can also totally add some spice if you want *wink wink*

⛥ﾟ・。 stall

synopsis: after you catch a girl trying to spike zoro's drink, all hell breaks loose... hell being you.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, a whole lot of profanity, reader's crashout is incredibly valid, reader is a BADDIE, nami is a down ass bitch, girl talk, zoro looooves his girl.

a/n: i'd be this crazy too if I had zoro as a bf

"Look at her! All giggly and shit... he's never said anything that funny his whole life," you huffed, brows furrowed and lip jutted in a pout as you watched from the window of the bathroom door.

"She is kinda hammin' it up," Nami agreed, peaking along with you. "But that doesn't explain why you dragged me out here."

"'Cause I needed someone to spy with. And I didn't wanna look crazy doing it at a table."

"Hon', you look crazy now!"

"Hey!"

With a harsh sigh, you came off your tippy-toes, your heels making a soft clack against the bathroom tile as you turned to your red-headed friend.

"I do not!"

"(y/n), you are in your best dressed while stalking your boyfriend from the grimy bathroom of a dive bar," she deadpanned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I love you... but this is insane."

Slowly, you deflated, shoulders slightly sinking at the facts presented for you.

It did look kind of crazy.

'A warranted kind of crazy...'

The girl out there with the annoyingly silky hair and infuriatingly beautiful dress had been practically throwing herself at Zoro since the moment she saw him.

And it had only been a week since you and the crew arrived at Asaashi.

The Sunny was in need of repairs, so the crew docked at a nearby port island in order to give Franky enough space and time to fix her up.

And guess who happened to be the harbormaster?

Every day, without fail, she had managed to tail your swordsman, following him and showering him with praise whenever she could.

You hadn't had not two seconds alone with him before she came barging in with some excuse like a pirate crew she needed help collecting from or boats she needed help destroying.

You knew Zoro had never—and would never—entertain her advances, but being his girlfriend, you couldn't help but feel some type of way.

"She knows exactly who I am, and she knows exactly what she's doing," you stated, firmly, pointing at the window. "I can't just sit around and do nothing, Nami."

"Well, hanging out in the bathroom surely isn't helping."

With a sigh, she stepped closer, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"You've got more history with that idiot than that girl could ever know. And if you actually think she has a shot with him, then maybe you aren't as smart as I thought you were..."

"Hey!"

Amused, Nami let out a small snicker, before focusing on the task at hand.

"You're his girlfriend. And you've got every right to walk out there and plop yourself down on his lap. Kiss him! Shove your tongue down his throat! Lay your claim, girl! Men do it all the time."

Surprised, your nose scrunched.

"Really?"

"You think Zoro starts getting hot and heavy with you whenever Sanji's around just for fun?"

She paused a moment, thinking about her statement.

"Well... yes, for fun, but it's also a power-play."

Shaking her head, she returned to her point.

"So be bold! Take charge! Show that bitch who's boss!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

With new determination, you turned on your heel, throwing the bathroom door wide open and storming out.

Only to immediately rush back in.

"She's coming! Hide!"

"(y/n)!"

Quickly, you snatched up Nami's wrist, dragging her into a stall and shutting the door just in time for the woman and her friend to walk in.

"Oh, my god, Siva, the guy you're talking to is so hot," the friend commended, audibly plopping her bag down on one of the sinks. "Where did you find him?"

"At work," she smirked, going straight for the mirrors to check her makeup. "His crew's been docked here for about a week. We've been getting to know each other better."

"I'm surprised a man like him isn't snatched up already," the friend remarked, slowly gliding the bright red lipstick across her lips.

"Oh, he is," Siva grinned, her lips curling in an almost witch-like expression. "But she's practically out the picture already."

At that, anger began to bubble in your stomach, your brows furrowing at the statement.

'Oh, she fuckin' didn't.'

Just as you were about to open the door, Nami looped her arms under your armpits, frantically holding you back.

"Clearly not enough. He hasn't touched you all night," the friend reminded, beginning to touch up her eye shadow.

"All week," Siva corrected, annoyed, as she grabbed something out her dress pocket. "But this little baby's gonna change all that."

You and the navigator paused your struggle for a moment, brows quirking as you both peeked in the crack of the stall to see what she was holding.

It was a small bottle.

"Few drops of this in his sake and he'll be up for anything."

"Few drops? He'll need ten bottles just to get a buzz," the friend scrunched her nose.

"Nuh-uh. Whole bottle's enough to kill a dragon."

You were clenching your fists so hard, your knuckles were turning white.

"What about the girlfriend?" the friend asked, amused.

"What about her? She'll be old like last week's shoe sale. Tossed out and left with the trash."

"Girl, you are bad..."

"It's good to be."

"Y'know what's gonna be really good?!"

Without hesitation, you kicked open the stall door, the resounding boom scaring the shit out of them

"When I kick your fucking ass!"

Seamlessly, you kicked off your heels before launching forward, grabbing Siva by her silky hair and letting off a rapid-fire round of punches, her poor balance easily taking you both to the ground.

"My extensions!" Siva shrieked as you tossed a clump of fake hair, attempting to lift her arms in order to shield her face.

"Siva!" the friend gasped, quickly moving to assist. "Don't worry! I'll get her!"

"Get who?" Nami scoffed, hopping on one foot as she attempted to take off her heels and take out her earrings. "You're not jumping my girl, bitch!"

Stalling for time, Nami stepped on the girl's toes with the point of her heel before finally managing to get it off, promptly snatching her up before she could grab you.

"Get the fuck off me, you fucking cunt!" Siva spat as you continued to throttle her head.

"Shut the fuck up!" you barked, tossing her into a tiled wall.

"Oh, that is fucking it!" she growled, brows furrowed and newly invigorated.

"C'mon, bitch! I'm right here!"

With a roar of anger, she charged you, slamming you both against another wall before you flipped her over and tackled her out the bathroom, taking the door completely off its hinges.

"Keep fuckin' trying me, hoe! I'm not scared of you!" you spat, the two of you right back where you started as you grabbed her hair once again, slamming her head against the hard wood of the door—Nami still being in a fist fight with the friend in the bathroom.

"Ohhhh, shit! Cat fight!" a random patron exclaimed, calling the attention of the entire bar.

Everyone cheered, letting out shouts of oohs and aahs as you whooped the woman's ass, the sight honestly a marvel as you did so effortlessly, without devil fruit powers nor freakish strength to back you up.

Just will and a whole lot of grit.

Though, it wasn't long before a certain pair of strong arms grabbed you, pulling you away from the woman as you frantically thrashed around like an angry cat.

None other than your boyfriend.

"No, Zoro! M'not done beatin' her ass!" you whined, attempting to wiggle out of his tight grip.

"Yes, you are," he shut down, instantly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're leaving."

"Nami-swan, please! A goddess like yourself shouldn't dirty your hands with things like this!" Sanji pleaded, attempting to pry your red-headed friend off the other girl.

"Fuck that! This bitch tried to pull my hair out!"

"Yeah! Run away, bitch!" Siva taunted, sitting up from the ground with a painful wince.

"Run away?!" you scoffed, eyes wide. "Oh, hell nah! Zoro, let me go!"

"No," he denied, tossing you over his shoulder before starting toward the door. "Let's go, cook! Hurry the hell up!"

"Give me a damn second! She's got a death hold on her!" Sanji grunted, finally managing to loosen Nami's grip on the friend's neck before pulling her off.

"My fucking teeth!" Siva screeched, cupping at least five in her palm with horror.

"Thank my man, bitch! He's the only reason you're still breathing!" you barked, grabbing a nearby man's drink and tossing it at her. "Have fun suckin' sailor dick, toothless!"

"Fuck you!"

"Eat my ass!" you pulled down your eyelid, sticking out your tongue as you waved around a humongous chunk of hair. "Bald-headed bitch!"

The following shriek was high enough to shatter glass, but it sounded like music to your ears as you laughed, tossing her extensions on the ground as Zoro finally exited the bar.

With a sigh, he started in the direction of the Sunny—per Sanji's instructions—glancing back at you with a raised brow.

"You wanna tell me what all that was back there?" he asked.

Slowly coming down from your high, your shoulders slightly sank, arms crossing over your chest.

"She won't be coming around you anymore," you huffed, firm and final.

At that, Zoro finally realized what this was all about, forcing a small smirk to curl on his lips.

Letting out a chuckle, he pressed a soft kiss against your thigh, his large palm giving your ass a quick squeeze.

"Crazy woman..."

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

🎀 in the late night of june, you sit beneath a mystic moon. well, rather, you're in a bar, all by your lonesome, pondering on what to order. in your daze, you didn't even see the strange man watching you.

yandere oc! x fem! reader

Despite being late June, the weather could not seem to make up its mind on how it was going to go. For the past few days, the sky kept going back and forth between being a beautiful blue to then suddenly changing to a gloomy grey, the air growing heavy with the threat of a downpour on any unsuspecting pedestrian.

You suppose you were no better than the weather, you figured. Toying with the the menu between your fingers, you noticed how it was filled to the brim with various drinks ranging from alcoholic to non alcoholic, hot or cold drinks, all of which was printed out on a pristine piece of jet black paper.

What to drink , what to drink?

The stress of exams was too much to bear, perhaps you could blame that for being so damn indecisive.

You let out a shiver as you noticed the waitresses cranking up the air conditioning to an insane degree. What was she trying to do, freeze you to death?! How inconsiderate...!

With a huff, you focused your attention back on the menu and came to the rational realization that perhaps it was for the best to get a simple fruit juice. But which kind? The offer was diverse and each flavor would surely satisfy your aching throat.

Just as you were getting ready to call out the waitresses, she seemingly beat you to the punch as she scurried towards you, a mysterious drink in her hand. The crystal glass shimmered softly against the dimly lit bar as the woman placed the drink in front of you, along with a scrunched up piece of paper. It couldn't be a bill as you had not ordered anything yet...

Seeing the confusion swirling in your eyes, the waitresses gave you a wink, beating you once again in terms of speed.

"See that guy in the corner over there?" she asked you, her tone laced with a sort of excitement. You nod, albeit slightly dumbly.

"It's from him!" she chirps happily.

Odd. You could have sworn that seat was not occupied just a few moments ago.

Taking the piece of paper in your hands, you unfold it to reveal neat handwriting, each letter and syllable written gently with a basic blue ink pen. It was a string of numbers, most likely his own phone number. Raising your head towards his direction, you noticed him eyeing you up and down, a boyish grin on his face.

He seemed normal enough, you reckoned. He seemed to be around his mid 20's, average height. He wore basic blue jeans and a cozy looking black t-shirt, which had no print on it. There were little to no accessories on his person other than a string which was hanging around his neck, most likely a necklace but was hidden from your view. Another thing worth taking note of was his phone case, which had a print of the Ghostface mask from the Scream franchise.

Ah, so he was a horror fan. How neat.

Feeling a little bold, you grabbed both your drink and the note and made your way towards him, never once breaking eye contact with the mystery man. Without a word, you shimmied across from him as you placed everything on the wooden table. A strange silence hovered in the air as neither one of you spoke for those few moments, but the man was clearly amused. Something was going on inside his head and he made no attempt to hide it, his light brown eyes basically dancing with pure glee. As if to ease the tension, he lightly smacked his lips and spoke:

"So. How are you on this fine evening?"

His tone was casual, as if he had known you for years, like he was chatting with an old pal back from the good ol' days. His entire demeanor was calm, dare you say friendly even. He raised his glass to his lips, the amber liquid in it swishing away as he took a sip, his gaze still not leaving yours.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

You couldn't help but to giggle a little.

"Ah, she speaks! Such delight!"

His tone was sweet like candy, lulling you in to feel safe. It was embarrassing how there was a part of you that actually seemed to be enjoying this encounter, but how could you not?

Life was so stale sometimes, so dull. The most exciting thing that would happen were the occasional outings with friends, all of which you loved dearly but... You craved more. It was unsure what you craved exactly, what you needed to get your heart beating and pulsing, but regardless you needed some excitement.

It was good to change the pace every once in a while.

The evening went on and you came to learn that the name of the mystery man was Will, an engineer student who transferred recently. He liked horror movies, mystery novels, cars and good beer. It was easy to chat and you shared many things with Will, even going as far to express the desire to see him again.

The sentiment was very much mutual.

As closing time was due, you exited the establishment with Will, his hand playfully linked with yours as he talked your ear off all of the fake guts in horror movies. He was so fascinated with the way films handled the production of those fake body parts, gooey blood and potential inducing nightmare fuel.

You made your way down the street together, the darkness of the night sky being slightly broken by the old street lights.

"Y'know..." he trailed off. He was still smiling.

"I always wondered what it would be like to actually kill a person."

It took a few seconds for you to realize just what he exactly said. Stopping dead in your tracks you turned towards Will, a flabbergasted look on your face. You felt the hair at the back of your hair stand up as the wind picked up, the leaves around you going in every direction, a warning of what was potentially to come.

Suddenly, the sound of loud and absurd laughter came bursting out of him, you soon following suit. It was borderline manic as he held your hand in his own, but being so lost in the sweet comfort of earlier you chose to not think about his worrying statement. Most horror enthusiasts were a little quirky anyway, Will was probably like that too.

And just like that, you parted ways for the evening, both parties promising to get in touch as soon as possible.

The walk home was swift as each step made you feel like a silly schoolgirl who just had her first kiss.

It was just so refreshing, like gentle rainy dew on a hot day.

Making your way back home, you fumbled with the keys inside your bag and opened the door with lightning speed. Kicking off your shoes and tossing the purse on the bed, you grabbed your phone and the piece of paper, pondering on the thought of whether you should just save his number or not. You were clearly going to be seeing him for a while, so -

Ding!

The text message was so sudden that you almost threw your phone on the ground. One mini heart attack later, you saw that the string of numbers were the same ones from before, so you quickly opened the message.

"What's your favorite scary movie ;))"

You snorted. He was so cheesy but damn it all if it wasn't cute.

"I like Scream a lot, if that makes you happy :D"

It took him a few minutes to respond.

"Good choice. But, personally, I'd really like to make my own scary movie with you... I could make you the main star."

Oh... Well. You're not sure how to respond to that. You stop and think, only for the sudden feeling of unease to come back. You remain still and try to brainstorm a response, but Will is faster.

"What wrong baby? Did I scare you? :)"

Ah. He's really committing to the part, isn't he? The best thing to do would be to just call him out.

"Haha, very funny Will! And no, you did not scare me, I'm just a slow texter!!!!"

Perhaps it was time to call it a night. It's been a rough week and you were not in the mood for these games. Halfway as you were turning away, your phone suddenly rang. You sharply turned your head back, wondering why Will was calling you so late. Perhaps he didn't get social cues? Your discomfort should have been obvious from the get go, but you still decide to pick up. Parting your lips, you started to talk but a male voice interrupted you instead.

"This isn't Will baby. But I'll be more than happy to make you my Sidney Prescott."

All the air was knocked out of your lungs as your eyes bulged so hard out of your head, threatening to pop like cheap balloons.

He was right. That was not Will's voice. The mystery caller cackled, his voice ringing loudly in your ear, the sound almost too painful for your mind.

"Didn't think you'd actually pick up." he continued. "I kept an eye on you all night, and you didn't even see me! Now that baby, is skill! "

He sounded so proud, like a child who just got a high mark on a test, as if he didn't even see just how wrong this whole situation really was. Mustering up the courage, you spoke up:

"Where's Will?"

Silence. The other line was dead silent but the caller didn't end the line.

You really did not like where this was heading.

"And why would you care where he is?" inquired the man, his voice changing from menacing to serious. Your silence spurred him on, making him more mad.

"You're my girl, even if you don't know it yet. I won't have you sweet talkin' with other men."

You let out a shocked scoff and quickly hung up. You smacked the phone against the table as an audible smack! echoed across the room. Crossing your arms close to your chest, you sprawled across the cozy bed with worry on your mind as the heart in your chest beat like crazy, pumping and pumping sheer adrenaline.

Despite all that, you somehow managed to fall asleep.

You didn't even get to see the last text the creepy caller had sent.

"I'll make you my girl, even if it's the last thing I ever do."

That was not a threat. But rather, a promise.

[shunsuiken]

HOW THE GENSHIN MEN FIND YOU DRUNK

pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, tighnari, kaveh, wanderer x gn!reader

genre. fluff + mentions of alcohol use ofc + reader is a lightweight (welcome to my life guys <3)

wc. 400-800 for each character

an. SOOOOO this was inspired by a cdrama i watched back in 2021 and when i saw it i just HAD to write about it <3 also i think i had a bit too much fun on zhongli’s and childe’s i hope its not so obvious dear god. also??? for some reason the ones i had the hardest time writing for ended up being the longer parts omg

kaeya alberich

after spending some time upstairs with a couple of treasure hoarders who were completely unaware of being thoroughly deceived by the cunning cavalry captain, kaeya decides to head down and run over the knowledge he collected with mond’s famed beverage, death after noon.

but as he walks down the staircase, he spots a familiar figure sitting by the bar. he squints his eye slightly, almost not believing the sight in front of him. is that y/n? on the high stool by the bar? dozing off to only a few shots of liquor? tonight just became even more interesting. now he’s starting to wonder what things you would say under the influence—for no shady reasons, obviously, as he genuinely enjoyed your company and witiful mouth. he’s just a curious man with the goal of unveiling a few other things about you.

he makes a beeline to the bar, setting himself on your right side so you’re in his line of vision. glancing around, he motions for charles for his death after noon. kaeya only turns to you once his drink arrives, quickly giving you a once over. seeing as how it looked like you came to angel’s share after work he might as well stir up a conversation.

your vision is blurry but you can definitely feel the presence of another person beside you. as you lift your head from your crossed arms, your brows crease in irritation. which imbecile decided to disturb your time alone? you’re literally brooding over the fact that captain kaeya would never be yours, so you irresponsibly decided an hour ago that some liquor would magically help you forget your worries.

you’re ready to scare the person off with a glare but what you’re met with is quite literally, much worse (because your glares don’t work on him and also because he's part of the reason you’re in your drunken state).

kaeya chuckles at your expression. “why the long face? it’s just me.”

you rub your eyes, groaning from the bitterness lingering in your throat. of all people, you weren’t expecting him. “you never stop by on wednesday’s. is something up?” you ask drowsily as kaeya watches you pick up your glass, clumsily squinting at the bottom of it to see if there was any more of your liquor left.

kaeya dodges your question, humming, “y/n sweetheart, you look like you’re on the brink of passing out.” he tilts his head, observing your flushed expression. if you can’t handle your liquor, he doesn’t mind taking you back home if it means securing your safety.

“am not,” you reply, turning your gaze to him. it’s all thanks to the alcohol that you can do so when in reality you actually struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “you… you haven’t answered my question yet. why’re you here?” your voice is hoarse and you’ve made enough voice cracks to entertain a crowd, but kaeya finds it rather endearing instead.

kaeya could reply honestly. but this conversation is one to be forgotten after you woke up tomorrow morning. he could lie and you would never know he did, but for a reason unknown the lie he was supposed to tell never left his lips. instead he blurts out the plain truth.

“somebody has to be responsible for you, y’know,” kaeya teases you with a grin but his actions are the opposite of his tone. he stands from his seat, pulling your arm over his shoulders to support your weight even when you attempt to resist his help. he keeps your body close to his so you don’t fall over. hopefully you’re drunk enough to be oblivious of the erratic beats of his heart alongside the cautious and warm touch of his hand on your waist.

diluc ragnvindr

he still can’t believe he has such a massive crush on you. it’s almost embarrassing to let others know about this secret because nobody would expect someone like diluc to have a thing for you. it’s even harder to hide that fact when you’re sitting at a table with venti and kaeya. they’re laughing their asses off at some joke you told them.

“cheers to y/n!” venti hollers, cheeks undeniably pink. “you are paying for this, right?” he leans back down momentarily, making you release another burst of laughter from your lungs at the way he mentioned it. “of course!”

after chatting, you decide to greet the man of the house by the bar. it’s been a while since you’ve seen the master diluc of dawn winery anyway. as you get up from the table to make your way over, you accidentally bump into a crowd of big, brawny adventurers who’ve just arrived.

“oh—!” tripping backwards, your hands fail to find something to keep yourself on your feet before your fall is cushioned by someone.

they hold onto your shoulder as your back collides with their chest. the force from being pushed aside has you breathing unsteadily, and it doesn’t help that you’re pretty tipsy right now too. however, despite how tipsy you are, you feel as though air is sucked right out of your lungs when you spot a tuft of crimson red hair from the corner of your eye.

you stand right up immediately, facing the person you fell onto.

“master diluc!” the dazed and naive look on a drunkard's face normally doesn’t appeal to diluc but this expression on yours actually makes you look rather adorable. your eyes are half-lidded and your smile is lopsided, and oh if he could squish those cheeks of yours-

“uh, master diluc?” you blink, toning your voice down a bit.

“oh.” diluc slides out of his mindscape, paying attention to your words. “yes? would you like a drink on the house?” because if you actually asked that, he would have sent one your way on the spot.

you wave your hands dismissively. “n- no no, not that! i was just asking how you were doing. you haven’t stopped by angel’s share since last month, i thought something was up so when i heard you were here today i…” you trail off, realising that you’re rambling and that diluc probably didn’t want to be greeted like this after taking a month off but when you look back at him, he’s still looking at you (and has been since you fell into his arms).

diluc raises his brow when he no longer hears your voice. but when he sees an expectant look in your eyes, he offers you his arm with a smile. “how about you tell me everything by the bar? that way i can serve you properly.”

your cheeks burn like a wild bonfire as you take his arm, now struggling to find excuses to somehow change the topic of conversation because if you continued your sentence from a minute ago, you would have exposed your secret attraction for the man in front of you.

(funny how you don’t even need kaeya or venti to expose you, you’re already the man for the job!)

diluc senses your sudden nervousness at the invitation. he does his best to bite away at the fond smile making its way to his lips. if he can help calm your nerves then maybe you’ll tell him about how much you missed his company at the tavern.

zhongli

zhongli didn’t know that his late night stroll around the streets of chihu rock would include witnessing your drunk state at third-round knockout. the streets have thinned out and it’s rather late too. he wonders what brought you over to the distinguished tavern.

the curious adeptus makes silent haste to peer over your shoulder. a cup in your hand and your head is lolling over. putting two and two together, you must have had your fill of alcohol for tonight.

zhongli finds himself chuckling before neatly folding his hands behind his back. “i wonder how y/n is faring on this wonderful night?”

your head snaps out of your drunken state momentarily, the coherent cells in your brain recognise that voice immediately but your vision is blurry. so instead of being able to greet the gentleman with dignity and grace, you end up tripping over the levelled bricks below you. 

“oh—!”

zhongli is quick to open his arms and catch you, his reflexes still polished despite his retirement as the geo archon. your head bumps into his chest as you grunt at the slight fright. and after regaining your foothold on the bricked ground, it comes to your attention that your body is flat against the man in front of you. more specifically, his arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you steady and your hands are fumbling awkwardly in the air because you don’t know where to put them.

looking up to meet zhongli’s eyes is exactly what you expected but you can never maintain eye contact with him. it’s not your fault he’s so handsome! his kind gesture makes your cheeks warm up, and he probably doesn’t even mean anything out of it but sometimes your mind likes to be a little creative and indulges you in a variety of impossible scenarios.

“archons, zhongli i’m sorry—i didn’t see you i—” 

“it’s not a problem, y/n. shall i walk you home?” zhongli offers, voice gentle and non-judgemental, like you didn’t just trip over a couple of bricks.

you shake your head, earning a raised brow from him. “i only live a few minutes away. plus, look at the time, we’ll look weird.”

“holding you in my arms will not make us look weird, rather i believe this is appropriate for us both. don’t you think?” the way zhongli tilts his head to the dominating tone in his voice makes you feel so small.

“i mean—sure but,” you reply, not daring to look directly into his eyes unless you were going to expose your hidden feelings for him. “but i’m drunk. it’s my fault, i can take myself ho—” your words are caught in your throat when zhongli lifts you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the steps and continuing down the street to bring you home.

this extra pinch of boldness is something that lays dormant within zhongli. but it always comes alive when you’re around. he has spent enough time around mortals to pick up the signs of the heart. your reactions to his touch, your flickering gaze and the heat from your face is no brainer. however, he will have to properly communicate with you when you’re sober.

for now, he only hopes that you will disregard the warmth radiating off his neck when you lean in to rest your forehead there.

childe

he’s dancing. dancing to his heart’s content. the band plays the second to last song but the harbinger barely feels like he’s lived up to the heights of the night. he requires more vigour, more energy from his dancing partners. sure, they were all wonderful dancers but he’s really only waiting for someone else to enter his field of vision.

childe knows you’re around here somewhere, you told him personally a week before the ball that you and your father were invited. after all, only the most distinguished noblemen and women were eligible to attend. and you, being the one and only child of one of the leading snezhnayan trade merchants, are an obvious guest on the list of invites.

childe dances, switching and gliding between different and eager dance partners, secretly hoping that the next gloved hand he would take would be yours. unfortunately, for the second to last song, he still doesn’t manage to find you amongst the crowd of participants dancing. so when the music stops he makes sure to return everyone a wave and entertain those who greet him warmly, doing everything in his power to stop the itch of impatience showing on his sweaty face. thankfully, he manages to maintain a calm and composed expression.

childe’s head perks up to a certain sound. amongst the music, the cheers and the clings of wine glasses he recognises a laugh. a laugh, to the extent of his knowledge, only he’s able to get out of you. he brings his wine glass away from his lips, licking the remnants of it from his bottom lip as he captures the sight of you chatting away with other guests.

scanning the guests’ faces, he concludes that they’re harmless thanks to information he was told prior to the event. so he makes his way over, smoothly including himself in conversation just to make an excuse to the other guests to ‘borrow your attention’ for a moment.

you take his arm that he offers you, holding your wine glass in your other hand. childe has always been a gentleman towards you, such a passionate person with excellent manners. you’re almost always guaranteed to have a grand time whenever he invites you out (obviously as friends, which you two have made known to the entire town).

“so ajax, tell me about your journey to liyue—” your throat interrupts your speech with a very clear hiccup. “—harbour.” your cheeks burn, quickly apologising for your lack of manners under your breath.

childe hums, loving how you used the name he told you to use when it’s just you and him. “your grace, are you drunk?” he gazes at your flushed face and how your styled hair looks more undone. he thinks you look better this way actually.

“i might be,” you sigh, wanting to hand your glass over to a butler but childe stops you before you can, taking your glass to quickly down the last sips of your beverage.

“ajax, what are you doing?!” you tap his arm repeatedly with concern, telling him to slow down.

you just got that glass a few minutes ago! but besides that, he’s drinking the wine you just had?! what if his lips touch the part yours did on the glass? not that you mind at all—you wouldn’t dare say that out loud but your thoughts are as clear as day on your expression.

childe enjoys the look on your face, satisfied and relieved that you didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction. “i’ve not had the honour to dance with you tonight.” he passes the empty glass onto a passing butler’s tray. “shall i have the pleasure now?”

kamisato ayato

by this time in the evening, you, thoma and ayaka are probably done playing the hot pot game. which is alright since ayato knew he would return home from business later than usual tonight, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on all of you. so when he slides the door open to see his faithful retainer, his sister and you sleeping soundly in the designated hot pot room at komore teahouse, the lord cannot help but stifle a fond laugh.

it then comes to his attention that the room reeks of alcohol. oh dear. that explains why everyone’s blacked out.

“‘yato?” he watches you lift your head from the table. ah, you’re still awake… and definitely drunk. no wonder you dropped the formalities all of a sudden. if you were sober you would have rushed to greet him by the door and refer to him by “my lord” despite all the protests he’s made to call you by his first name instead.

ayato hushes you gently, ignoring how his heart skips a beat at the mention of his first name leaving your lips and sits himself beside you. he’s almost taken aback by how you immediately lean onto his body for support. he knew you were an affectionate person but you normally asked before proceeding with anything just in case he felt uncomfortable (surprise! he never did). so seeing this side of you is rather refreshing to his eyes.

“what’re you doing here?” you blink hardly at him but it’s to no avail as the alcohol in your veins distorts your vision.

he brings you closer, gloved hand rising to caress the back of your head. “i just came to visit. however, it didn’t occur to me that you would all have so much fun without my presence.” 

“nonsense!” you claim dramatically, a satisfied smile immediately appearing on ayato’s face at your predictable reaction.

you poke his arm you don’t realise is already sat on your waist. you’re too ready to defend your lord from his own words to notice anyway.

ayato scans your face. lavender eyes find your plumped lips, the thin sheen of sweat along your cheeks and your hair attempting to escape the confines of your hairpin—hold on a moment, he got you that hairpin!

the way ayato has to physically restrain a grin from showing on his face is uncharacteristic of him. he’s noticed that he uncovers new parts of himself whenever you’re beside him. such an interesting person you are…

“we were waiting for you—hic—however, we got a little distracted.” you admit, gesturing at ayaka who sleeps soundly on thoma’s jacket. you look up at ayato through your eyelashes, giving him a lopsided smile.

“i remembered your—hic—advice when you said ayaka can’t drink more than a glass. she might even have it worse than me. but thoma, on the other hand, was a completely different story. that man was a mess!” you move your head to look at thoma’s body sprawled over the floor, ugly giggles leaving the back of your throat at how much of an idiot he looks like right now.

your hair tickles ayato’s chin but he pays no mind to it when he’s so immensely amused by your relaxed nature when drunk.

thoma

thoma mentally checks his list of things to do before retiring for the night. his lord is in his office, accompanied by a freshly made pot of tea, his lady should already be sound asleep and the other retainers are also readying to retire too. he sighs to himself, patting his jacket down as he heads to the kitchen to finalise his cleaning.

when he enters the kitchen, he is baffled at the sight in front of him. he stares blankly for a moment to process it.

there’s remnants of sake dripping out of a tipped-over tokkuri and his lover who plays with the o-choko absentmindedly with their finger, drawing invisible lines along the rim. thoma stifles a giggle, a curled finger covering his lips.

his giggle sends your consciousness back into focus. you only have the power to tilt your head ever so slightly to the right, your movements pausing on the o-choko when your gaze falls upon the view of your lover.

“tho—ma,” your cracked voice calls for him, making him rush toward you in such fondness so he could pinch your cheeks.

“oh, y/n, what are you doing?” thoma asks as giggles leave his lips, watching you squint at him dazedly. “it’s dripping from the corner of your lips as well!” he takes a napkin, sitting next to you to wipe it away gently.

“wh- where’ve you been, pretty?” your words are slurred but thoma hears you perfectly well.

the pet name makes him blush, but you’re too drunk to notice. “i’ve been doing my job—oh, honey—” he huffs when he brings you to lean on him instead. the longer you lay your head on the table, the more you’ll want to throw up later (and thoma makes sure to prevent that from happening).

you giggle at the little voice crack you hear when he calls you by your pet name, leaning onto his chest as your head rests on his shoulder blade. taking advantage of this position, thoma presses a cool ceramic cup filled with water by your lips and when you lazily open your eyes, you see that it’s the glass that’s been sitting on the side from earlier.

“drink up, honey.” you can’t refuse such a request when it’s mumbled so affectionately by your ear. you’re probably even warm at your cheeks from it, but then again, the sake has kept your cheeks warm for a while. you can’t even tell anymore.

after taking a few sips of water, your throat feels fresh and renewed—if thoma heard your thoughts, he would deadpan at you and say “y/n. it’s called getting hydrated” in a sassy little voice. this scenario amuses you and it causes a small laugh to leave your lips.

above you, thoma is confused. “what are you thinking about?” he asks curiously with a smile.

as you rest your head on thoma’s shoulder again, you reply, “you. i’m just thinking about you.”

tighnari

a shout from outside tighnari’s lodging brings his attention away from his documents, brows furrowing and pushing himself up from his chair to see why his forest rangers are making such a fuss at an ungodly hour (yes, tighnari was awake at said ungodly hour but that wasn’t because he was with his fellow rangers after a night out!).

“tighnari, we’re back!” a drunk forest watcher waves and yells at the figure of tighnari, who has his arms crossed in front of him.

a sigh leaves tighnari’s mouth, one of exhaustion, to be precise. “do you intend to wake all of gandharva ville up? go find yourselves home and rest.” he turns around to head back inside until another forest watcher pipes up.

“wait, tighnari! y/n’s black out drunk!” a female forest watcher, who’s eyes can’t even look at a single point any longer due to the alcohol running in her veins, displays your figure with your arm dangling over her shoulders. “you need to take them back, i don’t know where they live!”

tighnari raises a brow and chuckles, shaking his head. “yet you’re sober enough to tell me this.” he walks towards the group of drunkards and collects you easily from the forest watcher, carefully placing your arm over his shoulders while his other hand holds your hip.

you barely know where you are and what’s happening but it appears that your assigned guardian angel for the night has retired and put you in more capable hands—or, arms. you blink in an attempt to gather knowledge of your surroundings but it’s to no avail when everything is a blur of darkness with hints of warm light from the dew lights.

a grunt escapes your lips in slight frustration as you walk away with this other person, but they’re quick to hush you gently and in a soft voice you hear, “i promise we’re almost there, just walk with me, okay?”

“yeah, okay,” you reply promptly but to tighnari’s ears, he’s never heard such a tone in your voice ever since you were recruited. his heart skips a beat and his ear twitches along. it’s rare to see you so vulnerable and he can tell you have no idea that he’s the one carrying you back to… well, his lodging. because your lodging is simply too far away (it’s only a bridge away) and he can’t have you walking any longer when you look like you’re on the verge of passing out! 

he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when his gloved hand holds onto your forearm to keep your body steady against his as he walks you to his lodging. his body is going against him and his heart can only take the blame for such ridiculous delusions. what does he think he will get out of this?

he’s just your chief forest watcher, that’s all he will ever be to you—is what tighnari thinks. but in reality, you only went out with the others to spiral in alcohol due to your failed attempts of romancing your handsome superior. it seemed that the sumeru roses and the letter you left at his doorstep were blown away by the wind (you had to commit blasphemy on that day and curse the anemo archon), the pita pockets you made for him were stolen away by some petty treasure hoarders when you weren’t looking and overall, your thoughts were a mess thinking about your failed attempts. it was like your beloved archon forgot to bless you with wisdom to avoid these situations.

“see! i told you he had a soft spot for them!”

“it’s so obvious the feelings mutual, i can’t believe they didn’t believe us.”

“they’re literally the only one who can’t see it!”

tighnari clears his throat loud enough for the group to hear him. he turns around and gives them a pointed look until they’re all skipping away to their respective lodgings.

he glances at your drunken face for a brief moment and smiles to himself, continuing to walk you back.

it appears that all his worries were meaningless.

kaveh

the sight of you leaning against the door to his home almost makes his soul fly right out of his body.

“hello y/n, i thought we were meeting for dinner?” but when kaveh finally makes it to where you are, you are nowhere near sober. no wonder your figure was leaning against the wood so flimsily. you were akin to a ragdoll at this point. “great heavens, is the end of the world upon us? why are you drunk before me?” he hesitantly collects you in his arms while mehrak hovers beside him. he can’t have you just leaning like that!

“went to… birthday party… drinks…”

that’s enough information to bring kaveh up to speed with the situation. but also… why did you decide to go to his house?! was it instinctive?

kaveh cringes at his thoughts and opens the door with his free hand while his other hand supports you by your waist (he can feel his palm warming up to the touch on your body and it’s making the poor man sweat). “come on in, let’s sober you up.” 

when you’re sat nicely on the couch, your eyes are still closed with zero awareness of your surroundings. how your head suddenly tilts backwards at such speed almost brings the most horrific yelp out of kaveh, he’s relieved to know his reflexes are still sharp enough to have caught your head before it snapped right off your neck.

“archons, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he holds the back of your head and somehow manages to bring your body to lean against the spine of the couch. he doesn’t forget to put a pillow behind your back either, because you being drunk doesn’t mean you’re drunk enough to not feel discomfort.

after collecting himself from that scare, he returns with a cup of water, hands carefully hovering it in front of your lips. “here, drink up,” he says but you keep moving your mouth away from the cup that it’s slowly beginning to irritate him.

“y/n, you need to sober up if you’re going to walk home later,” he tells you in a more serious voice which makes you groan, throwing your head forward into your hands.

“you don’t understand.”

“what don’t i understand?”

what am i doing here? i swear i was in front of my friend's place… how is it that my drunk feet led me here? out of all the places on this continent, why did i take myself to the one place i’m trying to avoid?!

kaveh raises a brow and puts down the glass of water. “is something wrong, y/n? i haven’t even seen you since last week.”

“i’ve been… busy…” trying to keep my feelings at bay!

“i see,” kaveh responds before adding, “do you still feel drunk?”

“i wouldn’t say i’m drunk to the point of passing out—i did feel like that earlier but now that i’m sitting i can at least participate in conversation.” you remove your face from your hands.

why is his face so pink? you think to yourself, grabbing the glass of water from the table to take a sip before leaning back with your free arm supporting you. you grin to yourself, feeling a little cheeky.

you offer the glass of water you just drank from to kaveh, hovering it in front of his lips and you swear you almost watch his eyes fall out of their eye sockets.

“what—what are you doing?!” kaveh’s voice shakes and you let out this cute drunken giggle that makes his heart leap. 

“i know i’m the one drunk, but for some reason you look drunk without even having drinks!”

kaveh touches his face and he purses his lips. his cheeks are so used to being hot from being in your presence that he didn’t even realise!

“allow me to assist you.” you lean your body a little closer so you can press the chilled glass of water against kaveh’s cheek.

his bottom lip falls and quivers when you lean closer towards him. last time you were this close, you were putting medication on his face after a run in with fungi.

the coldness of the glass somehow gives him time to think to himself—rationally. maybe in this moment right now he could…

“thank you, y/n.” you’ve never heard this tone in kaveh’s voice, it’s unfamiliar and so… tender. what he does next makes you finally meet his scarlet eyes.

a warm hand wraps around your wrist that holds the glass to his cheeks, your skin immediately lights up in fire at the contact. it makes you gulp so embarrassingly loudly before him.

he leans into the coolness of the glass, gazing at you with such gentle eyes that it’s tempting you to look away. as his thumb gently caresses your skin, he smiles. “it helps.”

wanderer

wanderer returns to his home a little later than usual tonight. he made sure to leave a note on the dining table to let you know of his whereabouts for the day. he knows you have the propensity to worry about him, despite his claims that he’ll be perfectly fine because of how well-versed he is in the arts of defence (and nasty attacks). which is why he left the note on the table, and he acknowledges how it was moved to another spot on the table from this morning.

you’ve seen it. he thinks to himself and now he wonders where you are. you’re not normally out at this time and from your cute daily schedule reports you tell him before bed, he doesn’t remember you mentioning that you would be out until this time. or if you were going out with friends.

that’s alright. wanderer can wait.

the tapping of his own foot is driving the man on edge. it’s been two whole hours—the sun is far beneath the horizon and the birds are already snoring. where the hell are you? wanderer cannot do this anymore, he rises from his seat and takes flight with his anemo abilities.

the city is rather easy to navigate at this height. in the dark, the city is at least still lit up by streetlights and with the help of one nearby lambad’s tavern, he spots your curled figure sitting on the floor very easily.

he hovers over the cement before landing smoothly on his feet. “what are you doing here at this time? it’s so late,” wanderer remarks with irritation, standing in front of you with his arms folded. he stares at your figure with a frown.

“h-huh?” your voice comes out hoarse, lifting your head and your eyes slowly make out the figure of wanderer. “o-oh it’s youi… where’ve you been?” you manage to say despite how the world shakes around you.

“tch, what do you—” wanderer stops himself, raising a brow then finally taking the time to scan your face and posture and it hits him.

you’re fucking drunk.

“you’re insane,” wanderer scoffs, kneeling down to silently take a closer look at your face and body for any drunkenly bruises. “do you even know what time it is? i was waiting for you.” he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands but he decides to offer you one to help you get up on your feet.

“you think i’m insane but really, you’re the one doing insane things all the time! you know, like fighting fatui agents in the rain… to avenge a bird!” you put emphasis on the word ‘bird’ and wanderer scoffs at the finger you point at him.

“it was in danger,” he replies simply before sighing, “but that’s not the point. you’re drunk outside at a time like this so i’ll be taking you home now.”

talking to him magically makes you more sober with every passing second. you decide to play with him a little, leaning back on the brick wall as the crease in your brow melts away. “ooh, shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

wanderer groans, pulling his hand back. he’s never had to deal with you drunk before! so he thinks for a moment, and he stands tall on his feet, turning his head the other direction. “if this is how you will continue to act then i will leave you to your own devices, however if you come back crawling to me—”

wanderer almost gasps at your figure suddenly standing beside him, steady on your feet as you give him a hard and long stare. “you don’t have to tell me twice about how you wait for me at home, i’m well aware of that. complain all you want about me but your words aren’t consistent with your actions, my love.” you slide your hand down his arm to reach for his hand as you lean your head on his shoulder.

you feel him tilt his face in the other direction. curious, you briefly lift your head for a moment to spot your pretty artificial lover gritting his teeth as a sheet of pink blankets his cheeks.

“fool,” he whispers, but there is no malice behind it.

[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hiii I love Ur judgment day x readers they are so adorable

Could you please write a JD (Platonic) x Reader where Y/n gets in a bad fight with their partner and they comfort them

the judgment day x reader (platonic)

‼️cheating and gaslighting, your bf name in this is alexander bc my ex name is alexander and now i hate alexanders

(i love this pic btw)

i don’t wanna love

“you’re overacting!” your boyfriend alexander kept screaming at you.

overreacting?

“so you’re telling me there’s nothing between the two of you? that i’ve been hallucinating for the past month?” you screamed back, tired of trying talking with him.

“there’s nothing between me and her” he said, lying. because of course you had the proofs that he was cheating, that he was seeing someone else while you were out touring.

“how can i fucking believe you when i have proofs!”

“what proofs?” he asked, not caring about the whole cheating part.

“the pictures of you two together? the messages? the-…”

“you went over my phone without even asking me?” he was angrier that before.

“i did! because you wouldn’t tell me the truth! you can’t deny what i just found!”

“okay, fine! i cheated, is that what you wanted me to say? i did it, and i wasn’t proud of it but you were always gone and i was here alone waiting for you every week to come home, i got tired and i wanted to have some fun and one night i went to this club where i met her, and she was always there for me, it wasn’t just sex, there was a connection…she understood me, she was there when you were out wrestling with your friends!” he said, not feeling guilty at all.

you couldn’t believe he was blaming him cheating on you on the fact that you were away from home because of your job.

“i can’t believe it that you are blaming your fucking childish behaviour on me being away because of my job!”

“i needed you and you weren’t there!” he kept screaming.

“so the best solution was fucking some bitch you met at the bar uh?” you were done with it “you have ten minutes to pack your things and get out of my house!”

“what are you talking about? where am i supposed to go?” he asked you.

“i don’t know, ask my replacement if you can stay at her’s, i don’t care, now, move before i call the police. this is my house, do you remember?” you said locking yourself in the guest bedroom and waiting for him to be over with packing.

you were sure you heard him closing the door once he was done packing and leaving your house. you were too tired to even go back into the master bedroom that you cried yourself to sleep right where you were.

the morning after you were supposed to go at rhea’s as you guys needed to prepare your upcoming match but you were drained and had no energy. you felt like shit and all you wanted to do was staying in bed and cry.

the team immediately knew something was up when you didn’t show up at her place. so instead of calling your or texting, you found them in front of your door.

“what are you doing here?” you asked them.

“we were worried. you didn’t show up, you didn’t call or text, we thought you were sick or that something happened…wait, were you crying?” rhea stopped when she saw your red eyes.

“no” you lied.

“whats going on love?” finn soft voice almost made you want to cry again. he always had a soft spot for you, treating you like a daughter.

“i just…i wanna be alone today…now, can you please go?” you almost begged them but they got it as an invitation to come inside so now you found yourself with your friends sitting on your couch, waiting for an explanation from you.

“what is going on uh?” damian asked you again.

“alexander and i broke up…” you whispered and waited for them to talk but they let you continue “he was cheating on me and i found out…instead of apologising he blamed it on me, saying that it was my fault because i was away touring and he needed me here…i just…what did i do wrong?” you cried again and now rhea was sitting next to you, holding you in her arms.

“you didn’t do anything wrong y/n…” she whispered.

“he was saying how much he wanted to marry me, to have a family with me just to find out that he was fucking someone else behind my back…it fucking hurts because i was ready to be with him for the rest of my life…i really loved him” you cried harder and rhea swore that alexander was a dead man.

“hey…” finn, the parental figure inside the whole group sweet talked to you “it’s not worth it…crying for him? it’s not worth it, he’s not worth it…i know you’re hurting right now and it will hurt for a while but eventually it’ll pass…it’ll get better, trust me…”

“thank you…” you whispered.

still crying in rhea’s arms as she let you. you never experienced such heartbreak and the pain you were feeling was too much.

“i just don’t understand how it went so downhill…everything was going perfectly…i would have noticed if something was wrong but i swear, everything looked normal” you cried.

“it’s not your fault love” finn said.

“finn’s right, you couldn’t have noticed…if he was acting normal, you couldn’t have noticed the sudden changes in his persona…i’m so sorry it happened to you, you don’t deserve it…” dominik said while sitting on the carpet, in front of you.

“i swear… i don’t wanna fall in love anymore” hearing such words coming from you hurt the group. you’ve always been the sweet and romantic one, you’ve always dreamed of a fairytale life and now you believed everything was a lie.

rhea looked sad “don’t say that love, it’s just a phase but you will feel better, i promise you”

of course. you were complaining about your disastrous love life with dom, who just got married, rhea, who’s gonna get married soon, finn, who’s been married for years and damian, someone that wasn’t looking for love and couldn’t understand anything about love.

“it’s easy coming from you…you’re all happy and in a healthy relationship, you all trust each other and i’m pretty sure you’ve never been cheated on” you regretted immediately saying that but you were hurting.

“we had our painful break ups too honey…” rhea said. she knew you were hurting so she didn’t mind it.

“did they cheat on you?” you asked them.

“no but…”

“exactly” you said, drowning your head in your pillows.

“what rhea was trying to say is that break ups are always hurtful, whether you get cheat on or not…and this pain you’re feeling, will get better, in a month or two you’ll be feeling better…” damian spoke softly to you. knowing that you were already in pain and that he didn’t want to upset you more.

“we will leave you alone if you want to…” rhea said, not wanting to leave you alone but she knew you probably needed time for yourself.

“no please…” you said shocking everyone.

“okay…then we’ll stay here…we can watch a movie if you want to” finn suggested and you all agreed.

“no rom com please” you said making them laugh.

rhea’s idea was to watch a horror movie but while they were all watching the movie you ended up falling asleep, too tired for all the tears you’ve been crying.

[httpiastri]

author's note: this is extremely self-indulgent and based on a boy i used to like (i've been over him for like two months already. i promise), who loves drinking. we went out together a few weeks ago (with our other friend, it wasn't a date) and oh how bad i felt for holding him back when he and i sat in the far corner of the bar alone. my mind started spinning, and i ended up with this. possibly a follow-up to this other blurb i wrote on this topic.

and with that, i just want to say happy birthday to two of my favorite people, clement and @lovelytsunoda. i hope you've had a lovely birthday so far darling! the day may be over where i am but it isn't for you (right?) and i hope it ends just how you want it.💗 (and obvs i was thinking abt you and our chats abt booksmart reader x partylover clem when writing this sooooo this is dedicated to you, my dear)

"opposites attract."

you grew up hearing the words, like an overplayed pop song on the radio, the most frequently used trope in romance movies. the nerd and the jock, the american with the brit, the dreamer and the realist; coming from two different worlds seemed like the best recipe for true love.

you never really believed in it fully, however. you couldn't understand how it would actually work in reality. wasn't it just something they say, that differences in people help even out and complement each other?

but then, you met clement, and it suddenly made sense.

you'd never before met someone so different yet so perfect for you. while he's all uptempo and impulsivity, you're serenity and thoughtfulness. when you first met him at that party one day, you'd half expected someone so free and careless to find you uninteresting. but he found himself drawn to you, unable not to fall for your unexpected wits and peacefulness. over the weeks that followed, you got to know how similar you were – but also how your differences in lifestyles affected your relationship.

to you, weekends are sanctuaries, sacred hours carved for stillness and recovery. to clement, weekends are an open invitation to laughter and neon-drenched nights. your perfect saturday consists of a good book or movie, wrapped in blankets on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate; clement's perfect saturday includes a symphony of footsteps and dj mixes, a kaleidoscope of noise and strobe lights that never seems to stop.

he's not really an alcoholic, and you're not a complete sober; he just enjoys drinking and partying in a way you likely won't ever be able to wrap your mind around. you just don't see the fun in it. how could fleeting lights and crowded rooms ever compete with nights of laughter woven into stories or the gentle comfort of a shared silence?

your friends, ever the overprotective guardians of your poor heart, had been skeptical when clement stepped into the picture. they knew how your laidback lifestyle would clash with the party animal inside of him. they said that there would be thousands of flirty strangers out there willing to lure him into going home with them instead. they explained to you that a guy like him wasn't looking for a relationship like the one you want. but you assured them that it would work.

you trusted him.

you trusted him with a certainty that felt almost reckless, as if your heart knew before your mind could even begin to argue. he had always sent you updates throughout the night; you had not once heard a single story about him crossing a line on a night out (even his female friends confirmed the fact and swore on girl code that they would tell you if anything happened); and he had always come home at the time he had promised, with a big, goofy smile on his lips and stories of his adventures.

when you first started dating him, you had tried to follow his rhythm and step into his world. however, you soon realized how you were holding him back. while you enjoyed sitting in the corner of the bar, sipping on your drink and discussing book plots, clement had a need to mingle, dance, charm. if it was possible to befriend and impress every single person in every room, clement would see it as his personal mission every night out.

it all just makes you cherish the times that he does stay home and cuddle with you, just like he treasures the times that he gets to bring you along with him out into town.

there's also a very specific upside to it all; drunk clement is adorable. you're reminded of it at this exact moment, actually. he has just stumbled into your shared apartment after an evening with james and marcus, not completely surprised to find you under the covers of the bed, some random christmas movie playing on the computer next to you. his tired eyes crinkle in the corners with his grin as he analyzes your pajamas – a pair of shorts and one of his hoodies – and he tosses his jacket toward a chair in the corner of the room before making his way over to you. he doesn't waste any time falling into your embrace, his nose tracing the soft arc of your neck, sighing contently when your nails graze against his scalp.

"mmm, missed you," he mumbles against you, beard scratching your skin whenever he moves. "so much."

you can't hold back from laughing, despite how you know he doesn't approve of you laughing at him when he's drunk. "we saw each other like five hours ago..."

"doesn't mean i can't miss you anyway." the pout is clear in his tone, and he presses a quick kiss to your jaw before removing his face from you. "did you have a good night?"

you nod, one of your hands reaching up to push his fringe back. "you and james behaved?"

"macus kept us in check."

"of course he did."

clement feels a strong urge to kiss you, and he can't deny himself the satisfaction. you stay there for a while, lips locked and hearts intertwined. when he pulls away, he flops down next to you, eyes droopy and cheeks flushed. "i want skin care," he whispers.

"i think you're too tired."

"i think you could do it for me."

"i think you always complain when i do it and you can't help out."

"i think i'm scared to admit that i just want your love and affection. and touch."

"i can touch and love you even without skincare if you want."

he stops, thoughts swirling at race car speed and yet snail pace. he shuts his eyes, sighing, nodding. "all the time?"

"every second, every day."

the answer drags out a satisfactory hum from him. "i will love you until forever." he chuckles at himself. "is that even a thing i can say?"

"you said it and it was perfect. now come here..."

and drunk clement will cuddle into your side forever, slow breaths tangling with yours and fingertips brushing against your skin. and there's no place he'd rather be – no club, no bar, no party – even if he's scared to admit it.

[endofradio]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — PROLOGUE

WARNINGS: not really any except for alcohol consumption

NOTES: sooo i’ve decided to rewrite the ao3 fic (fragments of fear) i was working on because i felt like the current draft i was writing could’ve been better and i’m a perfectionist sooo i am trying something different here! let’s see how writing this on tumblr goes. i’ll make a custom hashtag for this work on here that way the chapters are more easily accessible. in the future i’ll make a new work on ao3 and post the rewritten chapters there too. i’ll have to think about it.

while obviously this version is going to be a rewritten version therefore tweaked and all that, i’m still going with the idea of having everything set in the 80s. i already plan on writing a sequel to this shit and i’ll try to make the whole 80s au thing more obvious there. for now, i’ll try to make it work 💀 i just think an 80s abigail au would be interesting, at least for this fic.

SUMMARY: it’s been five years since frank’s last seen sylvie, yet somehow he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about her. how can some random woman he arrested affect him this much?

turns out, he’ll be crossing paths with her again.

WORD COUNT: 1,497 (i have a headache okay)

TAGS: @shawsfinalgirl @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs @witchy-weve-monbebe @simpingforclaudette

Tonight was just another night — another night of bad decisions for Adam. There were plenty of seedy dive bars to get wasted in, and of course, he had planned to take full advantage of that. Anything to drown out his thoughts, right?

Unfortunately for him, even the strongest liquors couldn’t keep his brain quiet. With every shot of whiskey he did, he was still thinking about her — that damn fucking brunette. Adam could still picture her big, brown eyes that always stared at him with that look of defiance that was simultaneously infuriating, yet… encouraging. He had loved visiting her jail cell just to tease her and get her all riled up. She never hesitated to snap back at him with that feisty, snarky attitude of hers. It pissed Adam off, dealing with someone with such a stubborn attitude who refused to back down to him. He was a man who thrived on power. He craved having a sense of control over somebody, and that girl refused to give it to him, that sense of control.

As much as it bothered Adam, it also… intrigued him. Plus, he thought she was even more attractive than she already was when she was pissed off. Right from the minute he met her, he knew he was going to be giving her a hard time.

A few months later, she was able to go home, and… strangely enough, Adam felt a tinge of disappointment. The fun was over.

Five years later, he wasn’t a detective anymore, now a criminal. Five years later, he was a deadbeat father who had abandoned his now ex-wife and his son, sitting all alone in his pathetic apartment and drinking. Five years later, he was driving himself insane over some woman he’d most likely never see again.

What was her name again, anyway? Sylvia? Yeah, Sylvia… or, as he liked to call her, “Sylvie.”

After a period of time, Adam managed to return to his apartment, but with an excruciating headache from clearly drinking too much. He felt lightheaded and had a tinge of nausea. It didn’t help that he hadn’t really eaten anything at all today. Alcohol and an empty stomach — a very poor combination, Adam.

He stumbled into his apartment drunkenly grumbling and swearing, and eventually managed to take a seat on the couch. His surroundings were blurry, even despite wearing his glasses.

Adam’s apartment was quiet and lonely. Once upon a time, he had a family. He had a wife, he had a son. Now, he was alone again, and he had brought it upon himself. He had decided that being a family man wasn’t the life he wanted. Another bad decision, Adam.

He could only hear the sound of the clock on the wall ticking, and it only served as another bitter reminder of the fact he was alone, leaving him to struggle with his thoughts by himself. Sylvie ended up in his mind again, and it was only making him increasingly agitated.

“Fuckin’ damn it…” Adam grumbled, massaging his temples in an attempt to try and relieve his headache. He didn’t even really give a fuck about Sylvie, so why was she stuck in his mind? He couldn’t recall the last time somebody had gotten under his skin like this, really under his skin.

There was a knock on the door, causing Adam to flinch. He was tempted to get up and answer it, see what the fuck it was about, but he couldn’t do it in the drunken state he was in. He simply just remained seated until the knocking ceased, and that was when he decided to get up and investigate. Maybe it was mail. That was usually the only reason why he’d get somebody knocking on his door.

Sighing, Adam forced himself to stand and staggered over to the door, desperately trying to keep his balance as he reached for the doorknob, his unsteady hand trembling just a little. Then, he turned it, carefully opening the door.

Sure enough, there was a plain white envelope waiting for him in his mailbox. “The fuck…?” He murmured, snatching the envelope. Quickly, he closed the door and headed back inside, placing the envelope on the kitchen counter. Sure enough, it was addressed to an “Adam Barrett” — him. When he saw the address information of the sender, his eyes slightly widened. Lambert?

Adam tore open the envelope, revealing a piece of paper inside. There was no “dear, [NAME]” or any other formalities, just a simple, to-the-point message. He tried to focus his gaze on the letters, trying his best to decipher what had been written.

“Adam — I’ve included a list of five addresses. I need you to deliver a message to each of these addresses by mail. Tell them that they’ve got a bit of a job offer for them — kidnap the daughter of an incredibly wealthy man, and they’ll all be rightfully rewarded. If they accept, I’ll call them individually. — Lambert.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. God, he hated being told what to do, but he knew damn well that Lambert wasn’t a man who was meant to be crossed. He also knew Lambert well enough to know that if he needed something, it was urgent.

“I’ll do this shit tomorrow…” He muttered, and he tossed the piece of paper aside. Right now, he didn’t feel like fucking doing anything. However, as frustrated as he was right now, he’d undeniably do anything with the incentive of money.

“Why didn’t anyone say we were kidnapping a kid?” A dark-haired woman muttered as the group headed inside the mansion in front of them. A taller, more muscular man was carrying the kid in question over his shoulder.

Adam turned around to shoot the woman a sharp, cold glare. “It doesn’t fuckin’ matter. It’s a kid. Fuckin’ deal with it.” He snapped, before turning back around. “Alright, get the fuck inside.”

Once everyone was inside and the doors were closed, they all looked around, gawking at the place. The guy who had been in charge of driving the group to this place seemed especially impressed, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “Damn!”

“Like it, huh?”

Everybody turned around, and sure enough… Lambert was standing there, a smirk on his face.

“Find a room and get the girl situated. Set up a lookout position. Meet back here in five. For those of you who don’t know, I go by Lambert. You all came highly recommended, and so far, those recommendations are paying off.”

Lambert’s eyes surveyed the group, and as they started to disperse, he narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t… right. He could’ve sworn there was supposed to be another person amongst the group. If he had forgotten to mention her, he remembered now. He’d wait until the group had returned.

Once they did, Lambert continued to speak. He gave the group members new names: Joey, Sammy, Peter, Dean, and Rickles. As for Adam, he was now “Frank.”

“The only one to be allowed in the room with the girl is her,” Lambert gestured to Joey, “so the rest of you… make yourselves comfortable. Any questions?”

“Who’s the girl?” Joey questioned.

“You don’t need to know her name,” Lambert responded.

“I don’t care about her name. Whose kid is she?”

Frank rolled his eyes. “The fuck’s that matter to you?”

“A very wealthy man who’s about to be $50 million poorer,” Lambert answered matter-of-factly. His eyes then darted between Frank and Dean. “Frank, Dean. Come over here.”

Frank rolled his eyes as he followed Dean over to Lambert. “The fuck is it now?” He asked, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

“We’re missing somebody.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Frank questioned, his tone one of confusion. “You gave me five addresses. I brought five people.”

“There’s one address I forgot to write down. 7871 Lantern Drive. You know where that is?”

At the mention of that address, Frank felt as though the wind had been knocked out of his chest. Wait a second… it couldn’t be the same person, right?

“Yes, I do.” He responded, attempting to keep his voice steady.

“Good. Track her down and bring her here. Don’t hesitate to use the tranquilizer if you have to. She’ll be referred to by ‘Ava’ while she’s here.”

Before Frank and Dean could say anything, Lambert turned around and began to head for the doors. He gave the group a final look before speaking one last time.

“There’s clean bedding and lit fires in the rooms. Kitchen’s fully stocked, so is the bar. See you in 24 hours, my lovely pack of rats.”

And just like that, Lambert was gone. Frank exchanged an annoyed glance with Dean.

“Jesus Christ…” He muttered, before leading Dean out the entrance.

“Where are you both going?” Sammy called out.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it.” Frank curtly responded. “We should be back in a few. All of you, behave.”

[renhaswritersblock]

hello!! could you do w, i, and o for abner on the nsfw alphabet? i am so desperate for content abt him lmao 😭😭 thank u for still writing him

Abner Krill (Polka-dot-man) - NSFW Request (I, O, W)

Me: Oh boy, Abner! I’ve always been wanting to write something about this colorful dancing king queen since I watched TSS. This is going to be fun!

[Two/half months later.]

Me: *Staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures and notes with red string connecting to them, not knowing what time or day it is.*

Life [Walks in.]: Hey, uhh– friendly reminder that you still have that Government paper due tomorrow.

Me: MUTHERFU–

[Weeks later.]

Me [On the floor, defeated by the heavy mass of writer's block, reaching towards laptop to press enter.]: Finished– *Get’s crushed by an anvil of more writing tasks.*

—

A/N: I had made a Venn Diagram of Abs, Bob, and Lonny to differ the boys since they all fall under the meow meow category. So, thank you for the wait.

Ima say this takes place after the TSS movie – don’t care if he died, as James A. Janisse would maybe say, “No body, no count.” (Same with Flag. *kicks book of Necromancy For Dummies under bed*)

Warning: Usual NSFW stuff, nothing too extreme. Made some parts long (cause I do what I want). Some head cannons that totally didn’t come up to me randomly while I was halfway through finishing. No proofreading, I go down in style. Is there anything smutty in the first half? No, not really. Did I get carried away again and build a oneshot sort of story? Perhaps. Will I ever make a long smutty moment in any of the alphabet requests? Idk. Hotel? Trivago.

Leans toward female reader pov, but mostly towards gender neutral.

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

I: Intimacy (*looks over at the letter C* Perhaps, I misjudged you.)

Abner lacks physical and emotional intimacy – and you can’t really blame him for it. Being locked up in Belle Reve and made fun of by the other inmates for so long – and to top it all off, his condition and past – he doesn’t have good social skills nor the confidence to approach someone for friendly/flirtatious banter. Even when he and his Task Force X friends go out to celebrate their new freedom at a local club, he still remains reserved and hidden. So he thought.

Throughout the night, Abner watched everyone have fun while sitting in a booth next to a large – totally not a man-eating shark – distinguish gentleman with a mustache, staring intently at a fish tank behind them. Cleo was out dancing wildly on the dance floor with a group of people, Harley sat across the room drinking with three intimidating women, and both Flag and Dubois went somewhere private to chat and drink alone. He consistently looks around the large room, scanning the neon interior and dancing occupant exotically swaying side to side, sipping his drink until his eyes land on a certain someone sitting by the bar. You.

You idly sat on one of the empty stools, swirling your drink in apathy and wearing the most eccentric, colorful outfit that made you stick out of the crowd. Abner nearly choked, spitting his drink through his nose, and erupted into a coughing fit. He didn’t notice Cleo returning to the booth, rushing to sit beside him, gently hitting his back. You were alone – in fact – you looked like you were waiting for someone, glancing at your surroundings and at your phone every minute. 

Supposedly, your date should’ve been here an hour ago. They texted you the address to this place to meet you at a time that was way past your curfew. Without a second thought, you agreed. You spend your whole evening prepping yourself to look nice. The only attire suitable for your first night out was the one that made it look like a clown puked on you. Looking around once more, you scan the room in hopes of seeing your date, not spotting Abner a few feet away staring gawkily at you, swiftly ducking his head to avoid glances.

Abner could feel his face burn red hot, he couldn’t hear Cleo’s muffled words over the sound of his heart pounding in his ear. He finally drew his attention towards Cleo when he heard her say, your glowing. Instantly, he slaps his face out of instinct to check if his glowing rash started popping up – knowing already he expelled the dots before they left. This is a first… Cleo gaped as his face began to flare up into dim hues of blue and red to green and yellow. His eyes move back to you, staring at your phone with a bleak expression. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised when the screen showed they left you on read. You figured they would bail at the last minute, wasting half of your night to embarrass yourself. Thoughts began running through your head as you felt your chest grow heavy. I think that’s enough for one night. Holding back your tears, you took a shot of your drink and tapped the glass on the counter, going to spin your chair towards the exit when a tall man wearing what seems to be also a colorful button-up blouse blocks your way, startling you. Abner stood stiff as a board, nervously smiling at you. There was a moment of silence between you two. You watched as he glanced over and back at you, sending you mixed signals. Curious at what he was looking at, you turned and spotted two girls looking directly at you, one waving shyly, the other giving a thumbs up, and a– Wait is that a shark in disguise and a rat also waving at us?

You snap your attention back to the man in front of you, hearing him clear his throat out of discomfort before introducing himself as Abner, reaching his hand out towards you. To your dismay, you mindlessly took his hand, shaking it while telling him your name. Abner’s heart flutters at the sight of you smiling softly at him. You catch a glimpse of his cheeks glowing strangely, thinking it could be the lighting in the room. He takes a seat next to you, mumbling if he can buy you a drink, his smile widening when you accept the offer.

Shortly after your second drink, you hit it off pretty quickly, talking about certain things the two of you like, such as movies, and him introducing you to the group – keeping a very close eye on Nana– Bob doesn’t do anything to you. 

Soon you two were on the dance floor, swaying and bobbing your heads to the music, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face. Abner remembered sharing a long gaze with you, feeling as if time suddenly froze. He felt his cheeks boil achingly, noticing your expression contort into a bewildered look. Random patches of colorful glowing dots appeared and disappeared on his face. His eyes seemed to change color, following the primitive colors. 

Although you admired the way he looked, Abner on the other hand took it as a sign of being repulsed, causing something to trigger in his mind. But before he could let the imagery into his head, he hears you call out his name, slowly approaching him. You ask if you could hold his hand, reaching out for it when he accepts. You both stood in the middle for a while, only listening to the music playing on the speakers. Once he felt himself subside, he pulls towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You did the same, putting your arms around his neck, whispering reassuring words. He burrows his face into your shoulder, embracing the unknown feeling in his chest as his face emits a dim glow once again.

O: Oral 

*Abner: Clitoris?! Labia Majora?! Damn girl, how many pussies you got?!*

Abs is ok with giving oral to his partner. He’s a lil’ confuse at first, but he got spirit. He isn’t on the top 3, but somewhere around maybe 4-5. Krill prefers to use his hands to stimulate you than his mouth – since he can be flamboyant. It’s also a way for him to be slightly dominant and in control, edging you as soon as you near climaxing. 

When receiving oral from you, he melts into a whimpering puddle – he’s squirmish and restless at times, but only because you keep teasing his tip and shaft for revenge. To him, the sensation never gets old.

W: Wild Card (*cracks knuckles*)

*inhales*

Liiiiisten.

There’s a hc I have for this guy, but I prefer not to say what it is since it’s quite…vulgar. That and it also goes with a letter that rhymes with see. So here’s two headcannons that are pretty tame. Also, I hc Abner to be a vers.

Anyways.

Whenever Abner is having sexual intercourse with his partner, showing his emotions can be rather complex than his platonic relationship with you. Thus when he’s trying to gaze into your eyes, all you receive is a wide-eyed stare as he thrusts into you. Another aspect of his is uncontrollable giggling. At any moment, when you're riding him, something in his head switches and causes him to be a laughing mess. You remembered briefly stopping to ask him why he keeps laughing every single time you ask that question his response is the same, it feels good.

===

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for liking/reblogging. I find it hard to express my emotions sometimes and overthink it. When I see that I'm getting positive remarks on a couple of stuff I wrote, I acknowledge and appreciate the kindness, but never respond to it. So again, thank you so much for the support. Next one's gonna be a Johnson request, and then whatevers on the to-do list.

[dreadsuitsamus]

U Got It Bad | Kensei Muguruma x Reader |

author's note: i'm testing the waters here. this is a modified version of one of my personal selfship writings i've done, and i've changed it up into a reader insert rather than the kensei x ellie story it originally was. i am very tentative about this lol but i figured i should at least try it. this is an au, and if you have any questions feel free to ask! it's based heavily on my own imaginings, obviously, and there are many details not mentioned as this is part of a series of events i've already written. it's inspired by the song u got it bad by usher, as that is mine and kensei's song

pairing: kensei x fem!reader

warnings: au, first date, mentions of sexy selfies but that's as nsfw as it gets, fluff

When Kensei wakes up on an early Saturday morning, he begins his normal routine of breakfast and prepping his protein shake. And as he sits down to eat, he checks his text messages and snorts softly as there's a new one you sent to him just a few hours ago. That alone is the difference between you both, he thinks. He's up early at five a.m., and you were up late at three a.m.

He likes you, he truly does! How could he not? You're mischievous and witty, not to mention quite cute, an extreme flirt, and sexy too! He hasn't seen you since that night at the bar when you ‘met’, but he turned on just a bit of his charm to get a picture of you to ‘refresh his memory' the day after he got that napkin with your name and number scribbled onto it.

Now, did he use it with intentions of maybe getting a sexy picture? Yes, yes he did.

He's not exactly proud of it, but he did get what he wanted! Your mirror selfie of you in a tiny robe had Kensei's mouth practically watering at the image of your gorgeous legs, and the cleavage naturally drew his eye as well! Your friends chided you when you showed them the picture that you'd sent him, but with the encouraging words of a particularly wonderful friend, there was no room for any shame in your heart. Plus, Kensei’s opinion and returned selfie certainly boosted that confidence. He was at the gym at the time and took a perfect picture just as he finished his shower! Towel around his waist and no shirt to be found, with that silver hair all mussed and that wet body—

Though that's when you admitted to him that you are, in fact, a virgin, and God if that didn't shake Kensei to his core. Beyond the how the hell has nobody ever fucked you senseless part of it, it's a stark realization of the maturity difference between you. You may only be four years apart in age, but when you were fourteen, Kensei was eighteen! He was in the military for a year at that point! It makes him feel weird.

Twenty-one and twenty-five is different than that, though the playing field between you still isn't exactly even. He's a grown man with the PTSD to show for his military tenure, and he's in college with a full time job under his belt. You're a young college girl who still has her bright eyes!

Gorgeous, glittery eyes that is…

Kensei shakes his head and opens up the text, snorting at the contents.

stop being stubborn and give me your saturday night!!!!! 😤

He can't fight the smile that pulls his lips. You've been talking for about a month now and have been prodding him to take you on a date for weeks. Kensei's been on dates, but he's never really been on one he liked or ultimately wanted to be on. To say he's had girlfriends in the past isn't a complete overstatement of the relationship status, but they were ultimately never anybody he'd consider taking home to his mother.

He thinks it's cute how badly you want to go out with him though. And he's run through all of his go-to excuses by now, and if he wanted to he could probably find another… But he doesn't find himself wanting to do all that. It's been a while since he's had some fun and his classes and job keep him busy and stressed, so why not take a pretty girl on a date? It'll certainly only be the one date, that's for sure. You're far too precious for his usual tricks, and he's not sure he should be the one to take your virginity. You should save yourself for someone special, like you said you wanted to when he asked why you hadn't taken that step yet.

Send me your address and I'll pick you up at eight o’clock tonight.

Kensei laughs out loud when you text him back within a handful of seconds, quickly typing another message out. Get some rest. You want my Saturday night, you're getting the whole night.

fiiiiiiine. but tell me this first— what color dress should i wear?

Ken hums thoughtfully. That black dress you wore at the bar was so sexy... But he'd really love to see you in something red.

And the thrill that runs through him when he picks you up and lays eyes on you has him lit up from head to toe. Not even his wildest dreams could have prepared him for just how good you look for him. Red dress, as requested, matching stilettos, and a fresh gel pedicure with shiny red nails, gold jewelry and shiny lips that just scream vanilla cupcake lip gloss…

You have so much fun together that the night’s come to a close before you've even realized it. You had dinner, took a walk, bar hopped… And Kensei can't keep himself from willing the clock to slow down, just a bit. This is your one date he agreed to… But as he watches you sing Mr. Brightside with a vodka cranberry in one hand and a chicken tender in the other, he just can't stop thinking about more.

More time together. More dates. More… Everything.

Two a.m. rolls around and the last bar you stopped in closes, and Kensei takes you back home then. The ride to your apartment building, which isn't too far away from his own, is the quietest it's been between you the whole night. You've sobered up quite a bit, thanks to Kensei ordering regular cranberry juice for the last three drinks you asked for. Humming along to the music on the radio, soon Kensei’s parking the car and coming around to the passenger side. He's slow, savoring the final moments of the best date he's ever been on. Casually yet boldly slipping his hand in yours as you walk inside and to the elevator, you carefully rest your head on his arm as you head up to your floor.

Glancing up at him and smiling warmly, your eyes sparkle. “Thank you for tonight, Kensei. I had so much fun.”

God, he's melting. “Me too.”

“I told you you would! We could've done this weeks ago!” You laugh, and Kensei just shakes his head. It wouldn't have been this perfect any other time but now, he thinks.

You gradually approach the door to your apartment, and you stop before him and squeeze his hands. “Goodnight. Get home safe, okay? You better text me!”

“I will, I will.” Kensei murmurs. How the hell does he cut this one off? Can he?

Your hand gently slips to the back of his neck as you get on your tiptoes to place a sweet kiss on his cheek, your red lipstick leaving behind a perfect stain, the gloss on top making it shiny and even more obvious. Swiping your thumb over his jaw, you go to turn towards the door to unlock it. Kensei cups your face, though, with one of those large palms, pressing a soft kiss to your temple first. And next thing he knows, he's in the car that smells like your perfume and is on his way home.

The first song to play as he leaves the parking lot feels like a bullet to his chest, and he finds himself looking in his rearview a little too often, just to see that gorgeous proof of your kiss on his skin.

You got it, you got it bad.

[nerdieforpedro]

Day Nineteen - Kite

Word Count: 694

Warnings: anxiety, brief mention of alcohol, FEELINGS

Notes: I enjoy writing about this female reader and Marcus Pike, did this inadvertly become a mini-series?! 👀 What am I gonna do with these two?

Main Masterlist / March Spring Prompts 2024 / Writing Challenges

Your therapist is always coming up with some tasks for you to do. First it was the paintings which were quite fun and led to Marcus Pike, the sort of man in fantasy books who’s alive and an FBI agent. You find yourself questioning if he’s real or if you may need to talk to your therapist to recommend to your primary doctor that a serious change in meds is needed. Your reminder that you in fact not clinically insane is not when he kisses you, that’s a dream-like state he puts you in. 

It's moments like this when you’re doing something that you’d never think to do alone. Like the other night when he found some bar that you’d never heard of, the food was delicious, and the music was perfect. The band even had a CD that the two of you purchased. You didn’t tell Marcus that you haven’t owned a CD player in well over a decade, but you didn’t want to not support that band, they had been awesome! Plus, Marcus not only had CDs but cassette tapes so you could listen to it over at his place. You’ve been to his apartment, not for that, it was late and you really enjoy your tequila it was regrettable showing Marcus your sleepy drunk side, dozing off in the car and not remembering how you made it into his bed. 

Thankfully, you were able to salvage that mishap by offering to help Marcus with something he promised his nephew the following weekend: flying a kite. Two educated people could figure it out right? One just needs wind, some speed, and a goof grip on the string thing, right?

Both you and Marcus found this to be incorrect. The sacrifice of three kites wouldn’t be forgotten as both you and Marcus plop down in the grass park near his apartment complex where many of the agents live. The laughter at the situation and yourselves was loud as it was frequent. Two adults could not figure out a children’s pastime that’s been done for generations…well pretty sure it has. You roll onto Marcus’s chest and bop his nose gently.

“You’ll just have to tell your nephew and you, and your girlfriend couldn’t figure it out. It’s a lot more difficult than it seems. Even FBI agents have trouble.” Marcus’ eyes go wide for a moment, and he places his hand on the middle of your back.

“My girlfriend huh? That’s the first time you’ve said it and we’ve been at this nearly two months.” Tilting your head, you want to correct him, but damn he’s right. That’s a problem.

“Um…It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I just, didn’t feel the need to say it. Though, I guess I should be more forthcoming with these types of things, huh…” Shaking your head, you choose to bury your face in his warm chest and Pike, being the man he is, softly plants a kiss on your forehead and lets you stay in place. Hiding however feebly for a few minutes. He usually picks up on small tells and ticks that tells him your mood and what you might need from him. It’s then you realize that you’re not sure of what his might be. Looking up, he’s just gently smiling. “You should ask me for more. Not just this kite issue and given that we’ve damaged three of them I owe you at this point.” A nervous chuckle has the agent sit up and pull you to sit next to him with his arm across your back at your hip.

“I have plenty, I have you sweetheart. It’s more than enough.” 

You can hear your therapist telling you to weight your options before speaking and ‘pause for the cause.’ Even you know you shouldn’t say it, just keep it next to your heart. The need to ask this incredibly kind man to marry you. Still might be kinda soon for that since you haven’t told him you love him, but that would be implied right?

Wait did you ask him to marry you? Did you just ask Marcus Pike for his hand in marriage?

[streetkid-named-desire]

2024 in fic

inspired by @luvwich's own post i'm doing my own 2024 in fic. These are just the stand outs, I published a lot and a lot of half-finished stuff lol.

i wrote so much this year and i'm so proud of myself. like if i dont look it as wips stopped and started or rewrites, i wrote SO much. i mean the two rewrite of streetkid i started alone total over 80k words. thats insane!!!

January

A Streetkid Named Desire (First Revision) - 103,383

The beast. The one and only. The first revision of A Streetkid Named Desire at a whopping fucking 103,383 words!!!!!

DON'T READ IT THO WAIT FOR THE DEFINITIVE EDITION!!!!!!! Please my writing was not my best and I have learned and grown so much and I am rewriting it. Plsplsplsplsplkasjdhbf

Eitan Ezra ben Guerra - 1,734 words

1,734 words of VG backstory. The first standalone backstory fic! This one was great and I got to do a lot of Jewish research lol. The spooky fucking thing though, the fuckin thing...it haunts me. The Haftorah, the portion VG would have read for his bar mitzvah, is from Exodus 27:20-30:10 where God instructs Moses to appoint Aaron and his sons as...priests. And where does the fuckin' name Cohen come from? From Kohanim, the Jewish priests.

I LOST my fucking mind when I found that dude. I like had to get up from my desk and walk around my apartment.

He took the stairs two at a time up to their level, and a loud buzzer sounded in his head as he walked through yellow digital NCPD crime scene tape. A cop grabbed him by his lapel and dragged him to the wall, "Can't you fucking read, scop?" V spat, "I keep kosher, talking to pigs is treyf."

March

Shut Up, Skippy! - 2,528 words

Technically my second ever smut as I published Secretary as a standalone fic.

I got the idea from a photo I took of them fuckin' and the apartment preset had Skippy sitting on a chair. One thing led to another and I was researching infection rates of bullet wounds and the metal used to make katanas for random facts for Skippy to spout off.

It's really funny and I'm proud of this one, it's so silly and so fun.

They drove each other closer and closer, a growing cacophony of sighs and slapping skin as Bea impaled herself on V's cock over and over and ov— "Sex can decrease a man's risk of a fatal hea—OH NO!" Bea stopped what she was doing and made good on her threat. V propped himself up on his elbows, eyes wide, watching helplessly as she skillfully disassembled the AI-infested HJKE Yukimura, Skippy's voice becoming crackling static until all the pieces were neatly displayed on the netrunning chair. V looked at Bea, looked at the metal guts, looked at Bea again. She wrapped her arms around V and rested her head in the crook of his neck. He shifted his weight to get his feet under her and wrapped his arms around her waist as he pushed them both off the cliff of what Bea called, "murder fucking". They lay there together for a few moments catching their breath. Bea sat up and reassembled Skippy as V's cock softened inside her and their fluids cooled against his testicles. "Oh wowza!" Skippy said. "V was right, your hands are so soft!" Bea held Skippy in her hands and looked at V in horror. "That felt so good. I don't think I'd ever been taken apart like that before. Hey, is that what you humans feel when you—"

April

Teenage Depression - 1,872 words

Another V backstory, this time the story of/meaning behind the ritual scars on his face and back. And! The first time I used a song title for a fic.

When David finished the second row V's head lolled back and he stared up at the stars. In the haze and delirium from pain he saw his life laid out before him. His mistakes, his triumphs, his conquests. He never wanted to die. He wanted to live forever, to experience everything life had to offer even if all it offered was pain.

Honorable mention to

Who else would ever stay? - 743 words

From one of the Writer's of Night City song week challenges and the plot to the FOURTH fucking novel where they find a cure and get Johnny a body.

V, Johnny, <and Bea>, against the world.

June

A Streetkid Named Desire - Definitive Edition

The final and total draft of the main fic. Currently at 44,073 words. It's REALLY REALLY GOOD AND YOU SHOULD READ IT PLEASE GOD READ IT I AM POURING MY BLOOD SWEAT AND PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA INTO THIS THING sorry who said that

He wanted to create an astronomical anomaly with her the likes of which any universe had never seen. Something that would finally satisfy and quiet the black hole. He wanted to consume her as she consumed him.

July

Breach - 5,277 words

SMUT!!!! The collab I did with @luvwich I had an idea but I didn't have what it took to make it better and she gratefully accepted the challenge. I do have a second netrunner chair smut fic partly drafted for our second collab.

Bea's dissatisfaction was ripening. A glinting strand of saliva bridged her bottom lip to the head of his cock for a moment as she slid him out of her mouth. She scurried to the weapons room and grabbed V's KA-BAR off the wall, weighing the heft of the blade in her hand as she gripped the handle. Back in the living room, she stood behind V and… Just couldn't fucking help herself. With the softest scrape of blade against dark stubble, she placed the sharpened edge beneath his Adam's apple with a featherlight touch and bent to whisper in his ear.  "Do you feel that, V?" V swallowed. Beneath the blade's tip, a thin, red laceration formed on his throat, barely perceptible.  <Inside his interface, panicked alerts warned V that the emergency protocol would begin waking him soon. He quickly punched in the override and maintained his focus.> "Every single time you're like this," Bea sighed, "I think about how easy it would be to slit your throat." She kissed his ear lightly. "Carve you up into little pieces," she kept the knife against his throat as she kissed his temple and over his forehead. She looked down at his cock, still glistening with her saliva, and smiled at the way it twitched. "I would like to see you try," V whispered.  That was what he always said, but for Bea, it never grew old. With each bounce of his Adam's apple, a new, slender cut appeared on his throat. She felt an ache between her legs as she watched him bleed for her.

Then a couple one offs, WIPs, and since July I've just been working on the definitive edition of the main fic.

Total word count: 225,916

Well, 80k of those were written November-December as I worked on the main fic but that still leaves a fuckton written and that's not including WIPs.

[eatsleepbreathefutbol]

Am I not that important?

You and Dele had been in an on and off relationship for at least three years. Every time you were off you noticed Dele always had one specific girl he would "rebound" with.

You found out about her a couple months ago, and you didn't let it bother you since you guys are technically not together when he "rebounds" with her. But the weird thing is he still texts with her while you guys are together.

Dele, you and your group of mutual friends went out because it had been a while since you guys went out. You and the girls were talking about how you guys wanted to get drunk like the good ole days. You were several tequila and Red Bulls in, so you were vibing with the music. You and the girls were on the dance floor because they had started playing Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy, but you were wanting to be with Dele but the guys were still in the vip area sitting on the sofa just vibing. You looked over to the group and Dele is looking down at his phone.

This immediately made you mad because he's probably texting that bitch again. So you went to the bar to get another drink to ignore the fact that it might be a possibility.

Dele looked up from the phone to see you ordering another drink, so he made a beeline to you...he stood behind you with his arms around your waist. You wanted to enjoy the moment but you being drunk and mad you pushed his hands off of you, walked away when the bartender gave you your drink. Dele followed you to where your friends were, and was trying to dance with you but you got frustrated and went back to the VIP area to sit.

Of course Dele followed you back, and you just frustratingly tell him to leave you alone. Dele is annoyed, and whispers into your ear "Babe what the hell? What did I do to you? I'm here trying to have fun with you but you keep brushing me off and I am starting to get annoyed". You got up to walk away but Dele grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the bathroom.

Dele locked the door to the bathroom, "tell me what the fuck the problem is, because all I have done has been trying to be with you". You basically inhaled the rest of your drink before you start speaking, "well Dele I know you keep texting that bitch Lucy while we're in a relationship but I thought she was only a bitch you rebound with. Like I was dancing with the girls and when I try to look for you, I see you looking at your phone instead of having fun! If you're going to fucking go out to be on your phone the majority of the time what the hell is the point of going out if you're not going to have fun with your freaking friends!" Dele rolled his eyes, you grabbed his face, "I swear if you roll your eyes at me and tell me I'm crazy, I swear I will walk out of here" Dele slapped your hand away from his face.

Dele was frustrated at this point "you're too drunk let's go home, we better not cause a scene cause I don't want the paps to have something to write about". You started fuming at this point, "oh so you care more about what the public thinks than what I think, you're so fucking selfish because last time I checked you were in a relationship with me and having issues with me and not the stupid paps or fans. Like I am confused about how me being drunk has anything to do with this, I came out to have fun and not see my boyfriend text his side piece while dating me and telling me that he loves me." Dele tries to walk out the door, but you stopped him "y/n literally let me out of the bathroom because I don't want to argue" "really Dele you don't want to argue, well admit that you're not fully committed to this relationship and that you keep texting that bitch Lucy" If looks could kill you would be dead with the stare Dele was giving you, "I don't know why I have to admit to something I am not even fucking doing y/n!" Your eyes start tearing up, and you start walking out the bathroom.

You did a beeline to the bartender for another drink, this time halfway there Dele stood in front of you "babe it's time to go home, you don't need more to drink. Let's get you home" you push past him and go to the bar flagging the bartender down and ordering a double tequila. Dele rolled his eyes and went to sit down with the boys, after you take your shot you go back to the vip area.

You grab your purse, phone and keys to go back home as you're walking out of the area you feel Dele put his arm around your waist to try and help you to the car. You push his hand off "I'm going to take a cab home, and I'll be sleeping in the guest room", Dele at this point is annoyed "no I came here with you so I am leaving with you and you do whatever you want when we get home but in the morning we are talking" you're drunk self starts pouting and start speed walking to the entrance, while forgetting that Dele was sober so he easily caught up to you.

Dele told the valet to bring the car before you could flag a cab down, he's holding your hand with a firm grip and in the other one he's texting the guys a goodbye since he didn't get to properly do so since he was chasing you down. The car came around and Dele went to the passenger door to open it, but you got into the backseat and you laid down trying to take a nap.

On the drive home Dele is asking if you want to hear a specific song, you request Sobrio by Maluma. It's your favorite song about a breakup, as you're feeling this song you say without hesitating "Am I not that important to you? Like if you love me why do you still talk to her. Because I feel disrespected with the fact that you still talk to her, like if I were to have a rebound that I still talked to, you would flip out and be acting worse than me." Dele sighs frustratingly, "y/n can we drop this, I texted her asking her about something that she went through just to check up on her and I haven't spoken to her since...that was like a month ago" you're looking at Dele's figure, and you feel a tear slip down "but still why do you care about what she's doing or what she's going through if she's not your girlfriend or the 'love of your life' like if she's a side piece it shouldn't matter to you because she shouldn't be that important". You guys get to a red light, and Dele looks at you and looks worried because of the tears in your eyes.

He reaches out to grab your hand to caress it and you reluctantly let him grab it, and you close your eyes to try to soak in the moment before your drunk ass ruins the mood again. The minute the car pulls into the driveway you get out of the car immediately a beeline to the bathroom to throw up from all the liquor, Dele follows behind you to hold your hair and rub your back. As you finish you sit next to him and put your head on his shoulder "God I need to not drink that much ever again, so next time to piss me off Dels" Dele starts to chuckle a little awkwardly "can we move past this like babe I blocked her number and won't talk to her again because I now understand how much it bothers you". You get up to brush your teeth and wash the make up off, when you're done you go to the closet to change into Dele's shirt and then you get into bed.

Dele tries to cuddle and you look up at him then grab his face and kiss him while caressing his neck. You then put your head on his chest, and you close your eyes "I'm sorry for accusing you of not loving me or caring about me babe" you whispered. Dele kissed your forehead and turned the lights off "it's fine we all have a drunk moment, and Im sorry for not understanding you...also for thinking it was ok to talk to her without telling you or thinking about how you'd feel". You both went to sleep at peace knowing that you guys weren't mad at each other anymore.

I hope you guys like it :)

[antisociallilbrat]

The Williams Part Two

Part One

Read on Ao3

Summary: It's their first date! Doesn't start off on the right foot but the night is young so it can still recover...right?

A/N: Yes I am reposting this bc for my last couple writings I was like 'aw shucks my posts sure aren't getting the interactions like they used too' ... it was bc i am an I D I O T who had my privacy settings set to keep my posts hidden in the tags/search results. Anyways.

The bar is too crowded, the music is too loud, and it has an undercurrent smell of fake cheese. Like the kind they'd serve over nachos at The Palace. Back when Will was a kid and videogames were more important than dates.

Now he’s twenty years old, crammed into a booth that has a couple of mysterious stains, and sipping lukewarm beer out of sight of the bartender. They’re probably too busy to notice- or to even care, but he’s always been a little on edge when it comes to breaking the rules. 

During the afternoon he spent with Bill at The Bean he was really hoping it would end with Bill asking him out. Luck was on his side; for once. 

It’s just that he wasn’t exactly picturing their first date with all of their friends in attendance. Maybe he was a little presumptuous to assume that their first date would be a private affair. 

Bill invited him to Richie’s open mic, implying that his friends would be there. It left him feeling a little…put out because maybe Bill only wanted to be his friend. But then Bill told him they could sneak off afterward to go do their own thing, that he had an idea. He followed it up with a wink, one that looked ridiculous yet charming in a weird way that only Bill could pull off. 

But things are never simple in Will’s life and he later learned that Richie also invited Mike. Apparently, while they were scheming in his and Bill’s love life. What was surprising was that Mike was going - and was bringing El; at Richie’s instance. 

He had a lot of questions but he’s starting to see the answers. Richie isn’t on stage yet, if you could even call that a stage, it’s more like a literal soap box set up by the bar. Some other act is on right now, trying desperately to speak over the music. Mike, El, and Stanley are standing around a table by the stage. 

He doesn’t have an opinion on Stanley yet, this is the first night they’ve ever formally spoken but it’s obvious why Richie insisted they bring El. The man with the chocolate neat curls keeps biting back at the poor comedian, getting a rise out of El every time he does. When El laughs, her eyes fleetingly closing, Stan is smiling at her like he’s made a great accomplishment. He’s only poking fun at the comedian to make El laugh. Will wonders if El has noticed…probably not. She never notices when someone’s interested in her.

Along with Stanley and Richie, he’s met Bill’s other four friends. Ben and Beverly, a couple, Eddie- Bill’s first friend as he introduced himself as, and their own Mike. Their Mike is much sweeter than Will’s. 

Those four are at the bar. They were sitting in the booth with them but when Bill came back with his and Will’s beers, they each started making excuses to get up. None of them came back and they’re not even trying to hide the fact they’re hanging at the bar. They left him and Bill alone on purpose. 

In the booth Bill shifts in his seat next to him, his jeans making that awkward sound when they rub against the plastic of the seat. He looks vaguely uncomfortable and while Will has been sipping on his drink Bill has almost finished his. 

Bill is rubbing at the disintegrating label of his beer bottle, an awkward silence filling the void between them. They’ve already run through all the safe questions, ‘did you find this bar okay?’, ‘how were classes yesterday?’, ‘do you like your drink?’.

It’s such a tonal shift from their conversation at The Bean. Bill had had more…confidence if Will had to pin it down to something. They talked about Bill’s writings- he’s a horror writer, and Will had shown him some of his paintings. They had connected so easily then and he doesn’t understand why now is so different. The whole thing has him feeling a little anxious. 

Bill swishes his bottle, running empty, “Guess it's time for another,” he says as he stands. He nods towards Will’s bottle, “Do you need another one?”

Will shakes his head and just like that he’s alone. He deflates in his seat when Bill is out of sight, letting his head thud against the back of the booth. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe Bill was better off being ‘The Writer’ that he got to pine over from a distance.

“What’s shaking my second favorite William?” Richie cuts him out of his quickly spiraling thoughts, sliding into the booth across from him. 

Richie has cleaned up for tonight- but his definition of ‘clean up’ is far from what the normal person would consider. He’s wearing a silk blue button up with a black vest loosely tied in the front. It’s flattering in a weird way. Light smudges of eyeliner line his eyes behind his magnified lenses and there’s a cigarette tucked behind his ear, almost hidden in his barely tamed curls. At least Will thinks it’s a cigarette.

“It’s fine, nothing much,” he replies, hoping his dejection isn’t showing on his face.

Richie just hums, rapping his knuckles against the table. He just now notices that Richie has freshly painted his nails black. He jerks his chin towards the bottle in Will’s hands, “Didn’t take you as a fan of Bud Light.”

He sets his barely drinked beer on the table, “It’s fine, not my first choice but Bill ordered for us.” 

“Makes sense, Bill’s always been fond of his piss water,” he makes a move to stand, “I can get you another drink if you want, we don’t gotta tell Big Bill.”

Will snatches Richie’s wrist before he can fully stand up. Slowly he sits back and down and watches Will with curious eyes. Will starts back peddling, “It’s fine, really. You’re supposed to go on soon right? I’d hate for you to miss your cue because you're stuck at the bar getting me a drink.”

Richie ignores most of his weak statement, “Ya know, for a guy who’s supposed to be on a hot date, you’ve said 'fine’ three times in the last minute.” When he can’t find anything to say, Richie does so for him, “Billiam is being horribly awkward isn’t he?”

He gives, sighing, “Just a little- and I don’t understand. We were having a nice time back at The Bean, I don’t get why this time is different.”

Will is entirely unprepared for what Richie tells him next, “It’s because this is a date and Bill hasn’t been on a date in two years, not since his last, horrible, boyfriend,” He leans forward on the table and it throws Will off a little at how serious he’s being, “Look, Big Bill? He’s good at being charming and swooning with people, but dating? He’s worse at it than I am. He over-thinks it. Sure, he’s a hopeless romantic, but he struggles with new people when they aren’t so new anymore. Been burned a couple of times because of them.”

“I- I see…and I understand that. I don’t date often because new people intimate me,” Will takes another sip of his beer, feeling a little overwhelmed. He doesn’t have any exes, he’s barely gone on dates before. 

But then Richie snorts, “So you’re both bad at dating. Great.”

He frowns at him, “You have any advice then?”

Richie raps his knuckles against the table again, in a drum roll manner, “Matter of fact I do. Make him talk- and not about the boring stuff. Ask him when he had his first beer or better yet find out if he’s an actual monster fucker for me if you will? His stories are telling but I need evidence,” Will’s about to inject because he is not asking about that but Richie continues, “Fine leave the monster fucking questions for date two- but I’m serious, ask him about the fun stuff, the important stuff and show you have a genuine interest in him and he’ll be waxing poetics about ya by the end of the night.” 

This makes him feel better, gives him a look into Bill- one he wasn’t expecting, and lets him know how to get to know Bill better from his own words…it’s just there’s one anxiety of his lingering. “So it’s not me? I didn’t do anything to make him not interested in me anymore?”

Richie chuckles, “William, my William hasn’t shut up about you since he laid eyes on you. No offense but it was a little insufferable. You could probably spit in his face and he’d still be interested in you…actually, maybe he’d be more interested in you then, I don’t know what he’s into.” 

His face suddenly feels hot, “Shut up,” he mumbles, looking down.

Richie just smiles back, “So what are you going to do when Bill comes back?”

“...Ask him about his first time drinking piss water?”

“There ya go!” he shoots finger guns at him, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go flirt with my date before my show.”

His what-  “Are you talking about Mike?” 

“My future one true love? Yes absolutely,” he replies without missing a beat. 

He looks back at him incredulously, “Does Mike know he’s on a date right now?”

“He will, it’s all part of my master plan. Wait ‘n see.”

Part of him thinks he could do the responsible friend thing and warn Mike of Richie’s intentions, let Mike decide from there- but Mike did dig his own grave when he decided to meddle in his love life. So instead Will says, “You said you were bad at dating too so some advice; Mike likes to play hard to get, and he’s dramatic in the way he likes to be chased.” 

Richie’s eyes twinkle, “Well Papa likes a good chase,” he winks at him as he flies out of the booth, not even giving Will enough time to internally cringe at him calling himself ‘Papa’.

He watches Richie join the others at the table in front of the stage. Richie throws a haphazard arm around Mike’s shoulders…who looks annoyed and snaps something at him that Will can’t hear from here but he doesn’t shake Richie off. 

“Everything okay over huh-here?”

Will snaps his head towards Bill, he’s standing by the edge of the table, fidgeting on his feet. There's a new bottle in his hand- this one’s label is still intact, and it’s half drunk. He must’ve been waiting for Richie to leave before heading back. 

“Yeah, Richie was just seeking my advice,” he white lies, scooting more into the booth in a way that he hopes comes off as inviting, “Stop standing and sit down with me.”

Bill smiles, sliding in, “What advice were you giving him?”

“On how to woo my Mike- speaking of which, did you know Richie was going to trick Mike into going on a date with him?"

He just shrugs his shoulders, “I didn’t but that s-sounds like Rich…did he say anything else?”

“Why? Worried he spilled some of your embarrassing childhood secrets?” Will smirks.

Bill scoffs, “He wouldn’t do that,” Will meets his gaze, eyebrow raised and Bill starts to feel not so sure, “He didn’t do that- right?”

“No he didn’t do that, I’m waiting on you to tell me those.” When Bill smiles Will takes it as a small victory. The tension between them is already lessening and he’s determined to keep it rolling and not let them fall back into awkwardness when this spell has run its course. “Though he did tell me to ask you about the first time you tried beer?”

The tips of Bill’s ears turn red as he ducks his head, “Shit you don’t wanna hear about that.”

“Oh but now I really do,” he leans closer to him. The smell of a woody cologne and lingering cigarette smoke invades his nose and he wonders if it’s possible to miss a smell after only experiencing it once. 

He can already see the bravado seep back into Bill as he gives in with a little smile, “It was freshman year and all us Losers thought it would be a cool idea to sneak into Eddie Corcoran’s seniors only party,” his voice has taken on that slow, smooth, tone again and he’s not tripping on as many words as he was, “We were successful too…until Eddie Corcoran confronted us and tried to kick us out…” Will nods for him to go on, “Well let’s just say the moment Corcoran confronted us the beer we had been stealing all night decided to vacate the premises of my stomach…onto his shoes. Got my ass beat that night.”

“And you still drink it?” he teases.

“It was my first love, what c-can I say?” Bill lays an arm across the back of the booth. It’s not on Will’s shoulders but it’s close enough, “Tell me, what was teenage Will like? Any raging parties?” 

He snorts, “The only parties I was going to as a teenager were Dnd ones.” He’s not afraid of Bill thinking of him as a nerd, he saw the Battlestar Galactica keychain on his laptop bag. It was cute.

“Like with elves and shit? Were you an elf?”

Will shakes his head, laughing, “No I wasn’t just an elf! I was also the Party’s wizard.” 

“A wizard huh?” Bill takes a slow sip of his beer, glancing towards him, “You sure put a spell on me.”

Will’s brain short circuits. Bill just stares back at him, a small blush climbing his neck. He just has to shove Bill in the side with his elbow, “That is the worst pickup line I have ever heard!” 

He gives him a mock offended look, “I was trying woo you, William!”

Will’s about to retort when a speaker comes on to announce Richie as the next comedian. Mike, Ben, Bev, and Eddie all rush to cram back into the booth with Will and Bill. Eddie snaps at Bill to scoot in more so that he can sit down. 

Bill’s thigh ends up pressed against his- in fact, his whole body would be if Will wasn’t leaning a little bit forward. There’s very little space between them and Will…he’s not mad about it. At this proximity, he feels the heat radiating from Bill, can feel the vibrations of his chest when he laughs, and honestly he just falls more into the encapsulation that is Bill.  

The arm Bill had resting on the back of the booth comes down to rest across his shoulders very lightly. Almost as if Bill is asking for permission. Will leans back, securing the arm more around his shoulders in answer. There is so much heat radiating between them he feels like he’s going to combust. He’s never cared so much about a guy liking him before and he thinks Bill does like him like that but also he always carries around a seed of doubt about anything good happening to him.

It makes it hard to focus on Richie’s act as he starts his act, clearly in his element. Will tries to pay attention, he does, but his mind is fogged by the smell of Bill’s cologne and the rumbling of his chest against his side every time he laughs at one of Richie’s jokes.

Stan, El, and Mike (Will’s Mike) opt to stay around the table near the stage. If Stan was heckling the last poor guy, he is absolutely ruthless toward Richie. Who throws it right back his way. It was more amusing than Richie’s jokes. He has a hunch that they were both showing off for Mike and El. 

Bill and his friends sitting in the booth aren’t safe from Richie’s terror either. He throws a joke out about Eddie’s mom, one only they laugh at and he pokes fun at Ben. Something about The New Kids On The Block? At this point, Will was too wrapped up in Bill to register it completely. It isn’t until Richie targets him during his act does he get Will’s full attention back.

“Now now, I’m not the only love bird on a date tonight,” he whistles while Mike makes a small protest from the table, “My good friend Big Bill is here tonight on a date. Ironically! With a guy also named William,” he pauses for a dramatic moment, “You see if I was on a date with a man named Richard it would be double the Dick but you see with my friend Bill, he’s the one getting double the Willys tonight.” 

There's a modest amount of laughter that he earns from the bar patrons. This is one of his more successful jokes of the night. Beverly is dying in their booth and Ben gives Will an apologetic look but he’s still smiling. Will wants to curl up and disappear before his face turns into a tomato. 

“F-fuck you, boy!” Bill yells but he’s barely fighting back a smug smile. He nudges Will with his hand resting on his shoulder, “Just ignore him, he’s a dickwad. We’re about to luh-leave anyway.”

A mixture of excitement and trepidation fills his stomach. On one hand, he has no idea what Bill has planned for them for the rest of the night which is exciting, and on the other, that’s exactly what worries him. Will Byers is a virgin. It’s just…never came up before. Being gay in a small town can do that.

But they just got over their awkward conversation bump, surely Bill isn’t expecting that to magically segway into them having sex? Because if so they’re just going to land right back into an awkward conversation when he has to fess up he’s a virgin and he doesn’t plan on losing it after one lukewarm date and even more lukewarm beer. 

Richie’s set comes to an end and everyone starts to part ways. Mike Hanlon, Eddie, Beverly, and Ben were going to another bar on the side of the city, and Mike Wheeler and Richie were going to tag along. Will’s Mike isn’t a bar person so he’s continuing to be surprised tonight by his friend’s decisions. El wants to go home- no surprise there, because she really isn’t a bar person and Stan insists on driving her back. Hopefully, she notices Stan’s obvious flirting on the drive.

Bill asks if he’d like to go with everyone to the next bar and it’s clear that he’s giving Will an out of being alone together. But the thing is- despite his reservations, he wants to see what Bill has planned for them. Bill doesn’t act like a guy who is going to try to pressure him into doing anything he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t seem like his style. 

He takes Bill’s hand, acting braver than he feels, “I just wanna hang out with you.”

The smile Bill gives him in response is beautiful. 

-

Bill doesn’t disclose much about where they’re going when they crawl into his silver truck. Will didn’t know he had a vehicle, he never drives to The Bean and when he asks about this, Bill just waves him off, saying that driving in New York is too stressful for his tastes. 

On the way over Will tries to get some information out of him about where they’re heading as the excitement builds. Bill appears very sure of himself that this is a place that Will is going to be very happy about. To say he is intrigued would be an understatement. 

Curiously it’s some type of office building Bill drives them up to. He jumps out of the car without a word and heads towards the doors, leaving Will no choice but to follow him. The temperature has dropped significantly and even with his large coat, he crowds close to Bill as he unlocks the glass doors. 

Bill gets it unlocked and heads inside, turning back to Will when he doesn’t follow him, “You coming?”

He nervously glances at his surroundings, reading the sign “Gray’s Design Company Coming Soon,” painted onto one of the front windows. Trespassing wasn’t something he considered he would be doing tonight. 

“Are you sure we should be here?” The last thing he wants is to be is a ‘Nervous Nellie’ as Mike has called him before but…they’re trespassing. 

Bill must somehow read his mind, dangling the key he used to get in, “It’s okay, we have per-permission.” He’s still a little nervous but he follows Bill inside. 

The inside of the building is gutted, and clearly being renovated. Plastic sheets litter the floor and hang from the ceiling and briefly, Will is reminded of that one episode of Dexter Max had forced him to watch.

Will only glances away from Bill for a second but when he looks back Bill’s gone. Okay, now he’s starting to panic. “Bill?! Where’d you go?!”

A hand on his shoulder startles him, making him yelp. Bill looks down at him with a smile full of mirth, “Keep up, I want you to s-see this.”

“You’re not taking me somewhere to kill me right?” He’s only half joking. 

Bill rolls his eyes, and takes his hand, “Come on.”

They push through two more plastic sheets and Will sees why Bill was being impatient to show him. The sight before him takes his breath away. 

It’s the first actual room they’ve walked into and it is filled to the brim with art. There are canvases in stacks leaning against the walls, sculptures on pedestals, and tables filled with sketches. The art styles are all different signifying this isn’t the collection of one person. He just has to touch. 

The first table he approaches has sketches all done in charcoal. They’re smudged from rubbing against each other but he can make out the sketches of the people. Just strangers that are going about their everyday life, probably unaware of their portrait being created. 

On the next table are unframed works of watercolor. All vivid and seeming to leap off the page. Some depict still life while some are settings. Places pulled from the artist’s mind, maybe places that they wish they could visit or just simply places that are not real but still beautiful all the same. These are his favorites. 

He swivels on his heel, a watercolor work of a river still in his hand, to look back at Bill. He’s still standing at the entrance, watching him with a small smile. It makes his whole heart flutter.

“What is this place?” he asks, gesturing to the whole room.

Bill comes to stand by him, taking the painting in Will’s hand to examine, “Ben’s boss bought this place for his architecture firm and apparently the basement was filled with this stuff. Whoever owned the building before ap-aparently was an avid art collector.”

“A ‘collector’ is putting it lightly, this is more like a hoarder’s work. This is insane,” He walks over to a sculpture of a woman’s head made from clay, “This stuff belongs in an art show or a museum! I have never seen so much art in one room before!” He pauses for a moment, “What do they plan on doing with all of this?”

“Well Ben’s boss planned on tossing it all since most of it isn’t from any famous artists,” Will’s heart sinks, “But Ben convinced him to donate it to an art school, make the business look good,” he finishes.

“Yes, good publicity in exchange for not throwing away a collection of people’s hard work,” he doesn’t mean to sound bitter but some people will just never understand art. It’s just a thing that takes up space in their new office building. 

Bill just hums, “Well I did manage to convince Ben to let you take your pick of the art here before it gets donated.” He hands Will back the painting. 

He feels as if he’s a kid in a candy store and his mom just said he could get whatever he wants. “I can take whatever I want? Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent, you have a deep appreciation for art and you’ll actually care about these pieces,” He stands in front of him and Will realizes how close they've gotten. Bill reaches out and tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, his hand lingering, “I’m really suh-sorry about earlier by the way. You make me nervous.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I don’t date often because most people also make me nervous,” he leans into Bill’s hand, remembering what Richie had said earlier about Bill’s ex and how he has hesitations about people getting to know the real him. He's not going to be one of those people that 'burn' him.

“I’m honored to be your date tonight then,” Bill murmurs.

They’re so close their breaths are mingling and right when Bill’s eyes flutter shut and he leans down to kiss him, Will slyly ducks out from under his arm, “Come on! We got art to go through!” 

Bill sighs, amused, “Okay where do you want to start?”

For the next hour, they go through every canvas and every sketch. Will pays no attention to the sculptures as he doesn’t think he’ll have room for them in his dorm.

During this he learns that Bill used to sketch a lot when he was younger before diving into writing and like his writing, he would draw horror. Bill ends up taking home a sketch of a rib cage with flowers blooming through the ribs. He still has a passion for macabre works of art. 

Will on the other hand takes home a painting of a lonely cabin scene and two sketches, one of a beautiful man with wings and another of a bed of flowers. Plus he took the watercolor painting of the river that he first grabbed. Honestly he was holding back.

“I can’t believe you didn’t want that painting of the naked chicken,” Bill says as he loads Will's painting into the backseat of his truck.

“It was a featherless chicken, not a naked one,” he corrects, still a little disgusted by how detailed it was. He jumps into the passenger seat as Bill is getting into the driver's seat.

“That st-still counts as naked.” 

“Why do you do that? Trip on words sometimes?” He realizes how insensitive that sounds too late, “Wait! You don’t have to answer that! I’m sorry!”

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re a lot nicer about asking about it than s-some people,” Bill reaches over and takes a hold of his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I used to have a horrible st-stutter and I’ve almost got it under control, it still comes out I guess.”

Will squeezes his hand back, “I think it’s kinda cute- if that’s okay to say?”

“That’s okay to say,” he raises their entwined hands and kisses the back of Will’s hand. His lips feel soft. 

He feels the need to share something intimate about himself. What did Richie say, talk about the deep stuff? Fuck it, he’s going to do that.

“I’m a virgin.” Well, that’s one way to say it, Will.

Bill’s eyebrow furrows, “I wasn’t planning on trying to get into your p-pants if that’s what-”

“No no no,” shit he made Bill get defensive, he honestly could have said that better, “I didn’t think that you were! Just you shared something personal about yourself and I wanted to do that too! Earlier Richie told me to talk about the ‘deep stuff’ with you and- God I don’t know; I feel like I just messed this all up.”

A big hand cups the side of his face, forcing him to meet Bill’s eye, “You didn’t mess anything up,” Bill soothes, “And Richie is an idiot but I’m glad he told you we should talk about the deep stuff. Eventually, we’re going to have to have a conversation about your luh-limits in the bedroom and what you’re comfortable with and you will be the one to set those,” Will positively colors at that but it takes a weight off his chest he hadn’t realized was there, “I’m happy you shared that with me, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

Will knows that when he loses his virginity, he wants to lose it to Bill but like Bill said, that’s a conversation for another time. Right now all he can focus on is, “You said ‘eventually’ implying you want to see me more?”

Bill smiles at him boyishly, “As if that was a question. I p-plan on annoying you for a long while, hope you’re okay with that.”

His entire being is beaming. The boys Will likes aren’t supposed to return his feelings- especially not boys like Bill Denrbough. “Yeah, I think I’m more than okay with that.” 

Neither of them wants to move despite how late it’s getting. Foolishly the romantic side of him is thinking about how he doesn’t want this night to end. Their hands are still linked over the middle console and Bill’s hand is still cupping his cheek, his thumb brushing against the side of his face. 

“Can I kiss you?” Bill asks softly.

In lew of words, Will just nods his head. Sure he’s been kissed before. Once in middle school by Sally Mae behind the bleachers, the kiss that solidified that he liked boys, and then once in a game of spin the bottle with Lucas. Both of them were chased and lacked any of the emotion that Bill has when he kisses him. His lips are soft.

He has to remind himself to close his eyes. Bill takes the lead and presses and disconnects their lips a couple of times, pulling back minutely to nudge his nose against his and he gets the hint, he starts to move his lips as well. He can feel Bill smiling. It’s when he’s getting the hang of this that Bill swipes his tongue against his bottom lip. It felt foreign yet good and he gasps when Bill does it again. Bill’s tongue travels into his mouth slowly, licking and mapping it out. Will lets go of his hand and grasps his shoulders, trying to ground himself. He doesn’t have much to compare this to but he thinks Bill is a very good kisser. The noises he’s making he would find a little embarrassing any other time but right now he's not in any capacity to care. 

Disappointedly, Bill breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against his, “I really like you, William Byers.”

Will blushes, “I really like you too, William Denbrough.” 

A/N: AHA okay you can tell that for some reason I really struggled to find my footing writing this and with the dialogue but,,,this is my second draft of the chapter and I'm still not happy with it and I didn't have it in my to start over.

That being said I am really happy with how the ending turned out. I love soft boys.

This is the last chapter for WillBill as in part three we will be seeing how the rest of Wheelzier and Elstan's night went...that one will definitely be at least rated M bc Wheelzier :0

Thank you for reading! I always appreciate the people that read my rare pair nonsense!

[strifesolution]

The last chapter was so good!! And since you were talking about the fic's details, I was wondering about the playlist (I am listening to the main one on a daily basis) and I imagine that every songs were carefully chosen. I can guess what some songs mean about 5r6c. Like, From Eden is probably about Eden and Callie. You also mentioned that Genghis Khan is Dan and Wilbur's song.

Would you mind explaining how did you choose these songs and how some of them are related to the fic ?

(If this is too bothersome or would spoil too much of the fic, feel free to ignore the question)

LET’S GOOOO we’re so happy you like the playlist :D you’d be correct, most of the songs are chosen pretty deliberately, though a handful are more just there for the “vibe” of the AU rather than specific lyrics.

Link for anyone who hasn’t seen it; we update pretty often! I added Flu Game last night actually. Expect... a lot of art for this AU with the new Fall Out Boy songs LOL

Since there’s… a lot of songs, and a good amount of them would be kinda spoilery, we’ve both chosen one of our favs and wrote up a little analysis.

Here’s Van’s (@irished-lads) of Neon Moon by Brooks and Dun copied straight from our DM’s

~~~

fun fact, this is one of the songs i listened to on repeat while writing the earlier chapters. this is the ideal chapter 16 song in terms of story and vibe, and while an early 90's country song may have not intended to talk abt the intricacies of gay cowboy polyamory, I Sure Can Make It Do That.

peep the beginning;

There's a rundown bar 'cross the railroad track / I got a table for two way in the back / Where I sit alone, and think of losing you

thinks about kevin and sean having their degrees of feeling alone at this point. sean's always had a little bit of a thing for dan (not to mention kevin flirting with sean nigh all the time- note that kevin's only had to pay for one drink), and while kevin may be. erm. Physically Intimate (this is a pg-13 blog) with dan,he also wants more. its that disconnect that him and dan has that feels a mile long. Now. see the chorus:

Now if you lose your one and only, / There's always room here for the lonely

well hey. look at that. some of the loneliest guys in aurora sitting next to each other in a bar sharing a bottle of whiskey. they're friends, sure, but in that moment (ch 16), they recognize that they both can be more than that. to each other, and to dan. theres always room here for the lonely.

~~~~

And here’s mine (Emma here!) of STRIKE 3 by Ferry

This song is where the lyric in the fic's description comes from; it’s one from the PMV series Parties Are For Losers. You don’t need to watch the series to get the gist of the song (it is really good though!) but within the context of the narrative, the singer is voicing their frustrations as they desperately try to help those they care about who keep putting themselves in harms way. “You spin the barrel of a fully loaded gun” is just a fancy way of saying “STOP BEING RECKLESS!!!” because, y’know, it’d be a literal death sentence to play roulette if the gun is fully loaded...

In terms of 5r6c… well, one of the fics' central themes IS protecting the people you love. Dan continuously worries about what life Daithi and Brian had before this that made them criminals, and Sean and Kevin are protective of Dan, thinking Daithi and Brian are dangerous in arc 1, and suspicious of Spiff in arc 2. Here’s a bit from the first chorus…

"If there's no winning, might as well just have some fun." I want to scream, when will you get it through your skull that I will not let you drown? "The light is gone, the thought keeps running through your mind, but fearing life is easier than fighting, right?" Oh please, just hide behind this back of mine and save your helpless spite.

Which is peak sheriff’s office argument back in chapter 7...

I also really like the first verse relating to Daithi and Brian in the gang.

Channeling love through the fear of being torn apart by crowds of your barbarian peers. The human filth around us wants to trample all that is dear under the guise of watchful reason.

We learn from…pretty much every time one of them brings up Evan that it is NOT a very happy place to be, particularly in Brian’s POV of chapter 9.

Lastly, we have the pre-chorus.

A thousand years ago, it was a tepid autumn day. A lock has sealed this door— But no more.

If you recall in chapter 16, we learn the raid on the farm where Dan’s family died was in the fall (not directly, Dan always visits the bar on the anniversary and Sean makes the connection himself…but anyway)

...this is because ding ding ding of this song!

Unfortunately I can’t really talk about the last chorus and outro without SPOILING EVERYTHING so you’ll just have to guess from there ;>

~~~

Hopefully that's some food for thought! Honestly we COULD go over every song on the playlist but then this ask would be WAY too long. Just really quick: Hell's Comin' With Me is a HUUUUGE full story song but I really can’t say who it's about without giving away everything, Ambrosia Wine is the Kiwo/Mango dynamic, and Devil's Train (not on Spotify but would be on the playlist if it was) is gonna fit really well for the next few chapters!

[melslittleworld07]

Trying to be honest

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・

Hiii cuties, how are you today. ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*

Why is being honest so hard, this is my 3rd time writing this and the first 2 times I found myself wanting to straight up make up lies to make it interesting , I thought if I’m honest people would find it boring and maybe you will because I definitely do. I’m new to tumblr and I love it so far . I got tumblr for something new , to meet people , a ‘community’ . Nobody here know me irl so why hold back . I promise from this point on I’ll be honest, so real and just hope it’s interesting to read and you don’t hate me.

Reminder: this is a judge free zone if u feel like hating on me don’t just leave my page 🫶

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As an autistic person I’m always pretending, watching how other people act , how they talk to Each other hoping I can copy them and have a conversation with someone and it’s exhausting. I remember sitting in school and feeling awkward, I’d look around a see how other people were sitting and I’d copy them but in the end I just looked like a robot and I left like one too . I felt like a alien trying to fit in and not let anyone notice I wasn’t like them , I didn’t fully understand this till I was diagnosed and then I found myself watching YouTube video of people talking about their autism and trying to figure out how to act as a autistic person exactly like how I would in school and in public with neurotypical people . I sometimes don’t believe my diagnosis because I’m not like other autistic people, my autism test wasn’t very long and because I had been researching autism for the 2 years I was waiting on a diagnosis I thought I was subconsciously answering the questions how a autistic person would , but I have to tell myself I am and those people know what they’re doing.

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I even find myself lying in my journal , that no one is even gonna read, maybe I’m not Lying maybe I just don’t know myself . Like in school when they’d ask everyone to say their name and three fun facts even now I wouldn’t know what to say , as a shy anxious person this made me panic , I’d sit there panicking about saying my name let alone facts about myself and why would teachers do that they wouldn’t even give us time to think about what to say . It would make me want to just die

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭ ₊˚⊹ ₊˚⊹

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I feel like you wouldn’t understand unless you have crippling anxiety like if I told that to someone with out anxiety or someone who isn’t shy they’d say to just say your name to just do it I remember when I was 8 to maybe 12 I couldn’t go into a shop and get something on my own and my mum just couldn’t understand it she’d say “ just go in , grab the milk and pay at the till , it’s not hard” for me it was . Even now when I’m at a shop standing in the line I’m thinking what if I don’t have enough money , what if my bank app is lying and I don’t have that much or if they ask for if for whatever I’m buying and it would be like a chocolate bar or makeup.

I’m 18 and even now if I’m out with my mum shopping I’ll get her to go to the till and pay and I’d give her the money , boys at my school actually thought I was mute for like a month they were like woah she can speak and laughing Yeah I wish I had of just kept quiet now. If anyone can relate let me know or if anyone has advice and how to help.

˚₊‧꒰ა ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚much appreciated.

sometimes i wonder how different things wouldve been if i hadn’t went through my entire time in school undiagnosed and drowning until the point of depression, i’ve had anxiety my whole life but being completely failed by the system every single day and constantly feeling like i couldn’t breathe and just being told to “have breakfast” or that i need to attend just fucking crushes your soul.

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I stopped going to school when I was 16 it was the last couple months of the year and I just couldn’t do it anymore , I then tried to do a course on childcare but couldn’t get in because I didn’t have to qualifications so I did heath and social care instead and I did that for 2 months and then quit .so funny how i’ve actually never regretted a second of leaving school at 16 literally ever. now the depression is horrible but my heart isn’t about to jump of of my chest all day while I sit in a classroom constantly wanting to jump out of the window. I plan to post like this every Friday

Song of the week ~

freakum dress( live at the I am world tour)

☆ ☆ if you’ve made it this far thank you ☆ ☆

I hope you have a amazing rest of your day

Feel free to message me anytime

.⋆₊˚⊹༺Mel༻₊⊹ .⋆

[parasocial12]

Clubs, my Past, and more Whining

[transcribed from memo book as is] McD is expensive! I can't really think of what to write for today's entry. I had to speak to my professor last class. Very scary! No friends made in any course. Sad! They say to join clubs to make friends, but the Anime Club is the only club that is truly applicable to me. Unfortunately, those are not my People. They are simply too cringe? I don't mean that in the sense that I don't understand wh the jokes, but they're simply all too unfunny. Their tastes are too Reddit. I'm in the most vexing position. I'm too strange for normal people, but too normal for the weirdos. I suppose in one-on-one interactions I fare decently, but in a club setting I feel locked out. Band kids is what they feel like! The type to think Rick and Morty an is the funniest show ever. In a way, I am also too radical for them too. My years spent on 4chan as a Youth have a left permanent mark on my psyche. Not on /pol/ or /b/ or any of those places where the Election Tourists. /r9k/ was such a nice place to vent to older anons. Sure, I was underage ban, but ain't nobody knew that. I miss that comradery, as toxic as they were. The Youths of today are so lucky to have Tiktok. I admire TT as a space where the Youth can experiment and be themselves while using the algorithm to find communities to connect with. I missed out on that train. That's not to say I don't use TT or have my own spaces, but TT as a youth must be a hell of a fun place. Oh well! I had the experience of being underage on anonymous imageboards at least (wow!). Let me finish my fries now ~~~~ On the walk back to the SC, I passed by some sort of Christian group- a club? I know not, for I avoided eye contact- and as I did, they spoke to a duo of girls walking next to me. The usual invitation for a Bible study. They kept walking of course, and while doing so joked about how one of them was the target lol. Very funny duo- almost chuckled before remembering that I was merely walking alongside them, not with them! On that walk as well, I passed many cute girls. Idk what it is about college, but so many ppl are beautiful. It doesn't help that they are all serving- I didn't know uni was a fashion show! Now, I sit at the usual spot of my writing and jot down in my little memo book. Makes for such unworthy penmanship. Ahhhh! It's so frustrating seeing all the cute gals. I'm not terrible looking monster w/ a horrible personality, but I can't muster up the nerve to act upon my romantic delusions! How I wish I was less of an overthinker! Oh well. Since I am too passive to pursue, I must accept the fact that I will end up alone. Tragic! The best and easiest years to make friends and lovers and I cannot. What a failure I am! It is concerning that the majority of the ppl I have cordial relations with are women- and of them all are either taken or lesbian. I've nothing really against it. I'm proud that so many ppl can confide in me. Yet, I feel lonely. I realize I'm too emotionally immature to date, but I've fallen so far behind the curve that I feel that I will never catch up. I'm just a fool. Dreaming the best years of my Life away! I don't blame anyone, really. If I was a woman, I wouldn't date myself either. I'm a nice guy, but that's such a low bar- the bare minimum. What do I have to offer? I'm not rich. I'm mildly funny at times, but no comedian. I'm not some attractive guy. I don't like going out. I'm insecure. My Future is bleak. I have Nothing! Oh well. Always an oh well. I apologize to my future self for having wasted our Time, and I damn my younger self for the same Crime. [end of entry] Author's Note: It appears that no matter what, I will always end up writing about being lonely and cute girls I see. What a creep! I'm not an incel or nothing, but damn if my writings don't make me seem like I am