#he's worming his way into my heart oh someone help me

[solomiracle]

i think i'm going to faint–

[blacknight1230]

Healing Touches

(Y/n) is suffering from one of the worst migraines they had ever had, but luckily she has two wonderful partners to help her feel better.

poly!Halsin X Reader X Astarion

Everything hurt. Why does everything hurt? That was the first thing you were thinking of when you woke up that morning. The sounds of the birds singing their morning song, the sunlight breaking through the slit in your tent's opening, the reverberating throbbing of your head ... it could only mean one thing. You were suffering from a migraine. You tried to get up to try and find something to help you with your pain, but the slightest movement made a wave of dizziness and nausea to overcome you. Spots danced across your eyes, even when they were closed and your back teeth were even in pain. This is by far the worst migraine you have ever experienced, and you've suffered from quite a lot. This is what I get for not having my medication with me, you thought. Yet another thing you took for granted when you somehow managed to transport yourself from the modern world to the magical and chaotic world of Faerûn. How you did that, you still did not know.

The vertigo you were dealing with made it impossible for you to physically get help. So, you did the only thing possibly in this situation; you used your tadpole to connect with one of your companions. You psychically reached out to one of your nearby companion's tadpole, latching onto the first one your worm felt. You struggled to maintain the connection and formulate proper thoughts to convey your need for help. Before you were able to identify who you were connected with, said connection broke as you lost concentration, your head now pounding even harder. Everything felt numb as blood rushed in your ears and spots danced behind your eyes again.

The opening of your tent flap and sunlight pouring in signalled that someone had entered your informal abode. You sheltered under the layers of your bedroll and hissed at the brightness, not able to see who came to your rescue. "Are you alright, pet? I felt you reach out to me," a sauve cool voice asked. Astarion, you inwardly cooed. The silver haired vampire noticed your aversion to the light, closing the tent flap behind him as he shuffled closer to you. "Darling, please say something," he worried. You peaked an eye over the edge of your bedroll cover, met with the handsome face of your vampiric lover. His usual lustrous saccharine eyes were soft with concern, furrowed brows showing the hidden wrinkles of his forehead. "Migraine," you managed to say, voice coming out raspy and low. The slight movement of your jaw did not help the resounding pain in your back teeth, which in turn made your head worse. "Oh, my sweet little love," he cooed. He reached a hand out and brushed it across the apple of your cheek, the slightest touch of his cold skin providing you with relief. "Let me go get, Halsin. He'll surely know what to do."

"No, stay," you whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to wander his icy hands over your head and neck. Astarion let out a sad chuckled, kneeling over you to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. But I'll be right back, I promise." His icy touch left you as he careful made his way outside without letting any light disturb you.

You laid there, in silence and pain, for who knows how long. Time felt slower as the throbbing continued in your skull. Sleep refused to take you under its wings, and there was no way you could sit up and read a book. When the hulking frame of Halsin appeared in your tent's entrance way, you swore it was a godsend.

"Oh, my heart," the druid cooed when he laid eyes on you. "Halsin," you whimpered out. Tears were brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you wouldn't let him see them cascade down your face. "I've got some natural remedies to help you with your pain, my heart. But first you need to tell me where it hurts?" Halsin softly told you, kneeling down beside you. "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere," you told your hulking lover.

Astarion quietly shuffled himself into the privacy of your tent, situating himself to sit on the blanketed ground facing the other side of Halsin. "Darling, you need to be more specific so Halsin can help you? Can you do that for us?" he coached you, taking his hand to gentle rub away the furrowing of your forehead. You audibly let out a sigh of relief at the coldness of his fingers, losing yourself in his touch. "It looks like she enjoys that, Astarion. I suggest you continue while I prepare the appropriate remedies," Halsin cooed.

You just groaned in pleasure as Astarion's lithe fingers continued to massaged away the stress in your forehead muscles. You felt them relax, and in turn you stopped scrunching your eyes shut as the pain slightly lessened. But the back of your head, right where your spine meets your skull, was still throbbing in pain, so you grabbed Astarion's other hand and brought it to the spot. The vampire spawn seemed to understand what you wanted, slowly but firmly rolling the sore tissue under his pale fingertips. A small gasp was brought to your lips and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears lessened to the point you could now hear Halsin grinding some medical herbs in a mortar and pestle somewhere inside your tent.

Liquid sloshed in a container as Halsin returned to you, having finished what he was doing. "I made you something to help with your migraine. I need you to sit up so you can drink it. Can you do that for me?" he informed. You mumbled out a small yes, struggling to prop yourself up on your elbows. Astarion wrapped an arm around your torso and gently pulled you to lean up against his chest. You placed a chaste kiss on his hand as a thank you. You were able to open your eyes now, though you still squinted due to not being used to the light, still somewhat sensitive to it. But you were able to make out Halsin kneeling beside you with a glass bottle filled with some reddish liquid inside held in his large hand.

"Here you go, my heart. Drink as much as you can," he said as he brought the glass rim up to your lips. You opened your mouth, humming as the first drop of the medicine hit your tongue. Mmm, chamomile, you thought. There was a hit of sweetness to it, as if Halsin added spoon of honey to the mixture., that craffy bear. You hummed in enjoyment at the taste, signalling to Halsin to tilt the bottle some more so you could drink more its contents.

When you almost finished the mixture, Halsin pulled the bottle away. "Not too much, my heart. There will be plenty more for you later," he teased. You mewled as you leaned further into Astarion's chest, eyes starting to feel droopy. Astarion let out a light chuckle at your affections. "I see the herbs are already working. Would you like us to stay with you while you nap, my darling?" he playfully ask. You nodded, looking up into his ruby eyes with a child-like pout on your lips. "Please. I want some cuddles," you pleaded. "Oh, darling, how could we ever say no to a face like that," Astarion cooed, placing two light kisses against your eyelids.

You repositioned yourself so you were laying on your stomach with your head on Astarion's chest. The vampire wrapped his arms around your middle and laid a kiss on your head, before settling himself back onto your sleeping pillow. Your druid partner threw an arm over the both of you as he laid on his side, his muscular chest warming your side while his chin rested lightly on Astarion's white locks. You could feel the tangling of your legs with your partners, a smile making your way to your face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet," Astarion whispered in your ear. "Rest well, my love," Halsin purred, rubbing soothing circles into your back. The scent of your loves and the sound of their rhythmic breathing lulled you back to sleep, the pain that once plagued you moment you woke up long forgotten as you laid within their loving embraces.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hey! Love your stuff! But i kinda notice you mainly do Vox and Al so...

Can you do like....... A husker x child!reader headcanons ? (Platonic ofc)

The old bartender finds a kid completely without adult supervision at a bar (their just drawing ) , goes up to them to find thier guardian only to realise they dont have any?

Husker wants to get rid of them but they ultimately grow on him and they become closer. The kid is sarcastic and they shit on alastor together....

And they draw a mocking pic of the radio demon and stick it onto the fridge of the hotel for everyone to see?

There is a LOT of Vox and Alastor in my inbox but I'm a sucker for Husk so-

Husk X Reader Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Unaccompanied minor in places a baby shouldn't be

Description: 👆⬆️

Sometimes Husk just needs a break from being a bartender, wanting to be the one being served

He wants to relax in his free time and just have a moment to himself

Actually starts to let loose when he suddenly feels a tiny hand tugging on his wing

Husk is so confused when he looks down to see a child staring up at him, clutching dirty paper and crayons

"Can you help me up, mister..? The chairs are too high..."

Sets you up on the barstool next to him, still too stunned to really ask why you're even here

He looks at the bartender as they pass him his drink, gesturing to you with a wtf expression

They just shrug as they give you a plastic cup with water in it, obviously used to having you around by that point

Finally snaps out of it once the bartender pushes a plate of food towards you

Don't look at him like that it's perfectly natural to be freaked out by a kid at a bar

You're just kicking your legs and drawing, munching on the food given to you

You shouldn't be in a rowdy place like this, who's supposed to be watching you??

"So uh...does your mommy take you here often?"

"No, does yours?"

Motherfucker you're already spilling your water on yourself-here let him help you-how are you so bad at this???

"Your papa then?"

"No, I don't have any parents but- *insert bartender's name* -is really nice and let's me hang out in here.."

You're breaking his fucking heart, kid

"Oh well...don't mind me then."

"Uh yeah, I won't."

Sarcastic for such a little squirt, aren't you?

His drink suddenly tastes sour and he's no longer in the mood for another, watching you unhappily

Starts seeing you every time he visits the bar, always keeping to yourself and oblivious to the things going on around you

At first, he's annoyed whenever he sees you, reluctantly keeping an eye on you and making sure nobody bothers you

Even if they do, you're so witty for your age that you leave just about everyone gobsmacked by the shit that comes out of your mouth

The whole point of coming where was to relax and instead he's worrying about some kid

Then that annoyance slips away to reluctant fondness as you worm your way into his old heart

He starts to look forward to seeing you and starts bringing little things for you like clothes, toys, coloring books

Listens to you babble about what you do with your days and how you've managed to survive on your own

Not the bartender developing a crush on him for it

Husk doesn't even realize how attached he is until one day he visits the bar and you aren't there, the bartender distracted and upset

You haven't shown up in couple of days

He immediately goes looking for you, frequenting all the places he's heard you mention

Is asking anyone if they've seen you, getting more frantic with each negative answer

Finally finds someone who knows where you are, leading Husk to where you've been hiding out

And now he knows why you haven't shown up

Husk gathers up your shaking, feverish body, hating the fact that you're so sick

"H-Husk..?"

You can barely even open your eyes, he can feel your little body burning up in his arms

"Hey kid..."

He's not leaving you here

He takes you back to the hotel so that you can be properly taken care of, leaning on the others when he doesn't know what to do

Charlie and Vaggie are the biggest helps tbh, they're actually good at caring for people

Alastor is entirely unhelpful except for the fact that he can provide medicine and other supplies

"My my~ Look at what the cat dragged in! Aha!"

"Shut up...you weird strawberry man.."

Even when you're sick you're still a riot

He tries to keep Niffty tf away from you but you think she's funny

He and Angel are your makeshift heaters, so fuzzy and warm that you want to cuddle them all the time

Angel complains the entire time though so you don't really prefer him

Mostly you want Husk with you and he sticks with you until you're feeling better

By then you're well acquainted with everyone at the hotel and they're all quite attached to you

Everyone agrees that you live there now and you get your own room even though you have a habit of sleeping in Husk's

It's okay, Husk looks forward to waking up to your adorable face and doesn't even mind when you kick him in your sleep

You play with Niffty and Angel, learn from Charlie and Vaggie, bother Alastor with your less than flattering renditions of him

You don't like that Alastor is so rude to Husk so you've taken to being a little thorn in his side

Kids pick up on their parent's emotions what can I say

Which Alastor absolutely hates but hides it behind a tight smile, he's surprisingly patient with you

And if those drawings of Alastor on the fridge suddenly go missing?? Husk can always ask you to make him another one

Husk finds himself thinking of you as his kid more and more often, surprised that you ever got this close to his heart

And you yourself slip up a few times and call him dad/papa/daddy/father/pops

You're always a little embarrassed by the chorus of awwws that follow afterwards but you don't really mind it anymore

And neither does he if he's being honest

He struggles sometimes to be a proper caregiver for you but you always seem to just love him more for his flaws

You're too fucking cute

You're definitely his kid

And don't worry Husk lets the bartender know you're safe and brings you to visit them after their shifts

I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS I LOVE DADDY!HUSK SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT TOO

[whiskersz]

Hey so I just saw you had request opened for Adam so could you please do headcannons with Adam x reader where the reader is like very nervous at first and is quiet but after a bit when they open up is supper out going and talks a lot? Have an amazing day/night!

Hello there! Happy to write some Adam headcanons for you, dear reader! Hope you like these and have a wonderful day/night yourself :3 I assumed these were meant to be romantic but they can be read either way.

Adam x Quiet -> Outgoing! Reader HCs

Adam isn’t really sure what to think of you at first.

He never knows what to make of quiet people; is there a storm brewing in their little brain, or are they uninteresting and as such undeserving of his attention? Lute is the first for example, and he quite likes her, so he decides to give you a chance.

What really amuses him is your nervousness around him at first; he’ll tease you by asking things such as “What, cat got your tongue?” and make fun of you when you stumble on your own words, his booming laugh catching the attention on anyone nearby.

Lord knows why you stick around, but you do, and day after day you two somehow grow closer; you get used to his tacky jokes about your personality and little by little you learn to either ignore him and move on or retort with the first thing that comes to mind, shushing him. He’ll either blow you a very immature raspberry or flip the bird at you whenever this happens.

Once you open up a bit and become way more talkative though, unfortunately for you, he finds a whole new reason to be rude to you;

“Got your tongue back I see. Great, now I’ve got a pest by my side.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re going to give me a headache!”

“Do you ever shut up?”

As you can probably tell having any kind of relationship with Adam is not the easiest thing in the world – or well, in Heaven, in this case.

It’s not rare for you to get a bit offended by what he says, but you’ve figured out a way to worm your way into his heart and get him to listen to you: acts of service.

Adam is a bit lazy when it comes to doing things that aren’t fun for him, so the best way to get him to calm down a bit is to take the weight off his shoulders and do whatever needs to be done in his stead.

Of course, we’re talking about everyday acts, such as doing the groceries or cleaning. He’s going to be overjoyed if you get him something he likes while you’re out too; every time you come back home from grocery shopping with ribs to cook, he’s oh-so going to listen to your rants about how long the line at the cash register was or whatever you have to talk about this time.

He’s also a big napper, and it’s surprising even to him how much it helps him fall asleep when you talk about literally anything as he’s trying to take a nap. These are the times where he’ll actually reply to what you’re saying too!

“...and that’s when my friend left. I couldn’t believe it, like... if she really cared she would’ve stayed, right?”

“What...is she a fucking bitch? Of course she would’ve stayed if she gave a damn.”

He answers with his eyes closed each time, but his eyebrows are still furrowed in frustration whenever you tell him about someone or something that pissed you off.

Lute probably questions you guys’ relationship, not going to lie. She can deal with Adam, but you? She has absolutely no idea how you put up with him, but as long as she gets some free time for herself she’s not going to complain.

[aennasan]

You are odd.

He knows that his girlfriend is very odd.

The taste you have in men is very particular. You love ikemen with a beautiful voice. Yet, up until now that description made him wonder.

Sugishita is very quiet. Not sure about the pretty because most girls his age are scared of his presence and face. They even called his reaction demon once.

You love giving compliments out loud. You love calling everything that made your heart flutter as cute and adorable. And he would often receive your cute and adorable compliments— even if his reaction was just a blank face of him.

Although, your reactions to his “adorableness” made him confused and questioned if you truly know the meaning of that word, he doesn't appreciate his classmates' whispers of doubts whenever you call him that in front of them.

How dare they question your claims? If you say his poker face is cute, then it is cute!

You hate tall and muscular men. You claimed they are always so scary and intimidating. The idea of being towered by men gives you an ick. And yet—

He is one of the tallest freshmen standing in 6’3. You would often lean on his chest as a pillow, claiming small girlfriend privileges. And you would often wrap your arm around his arm or waist and chirp saying he is very warm and comfy. Although lean, he is muscular.

Yet, in all of your oddness, he doesn't like it when someone calls you weird. You hated that word and so does he.

When Sakura, on your fifth meeting in the cafe, called you weird, a slip of his tongue, when you squealed and called Sugishita cute after he frowned and gave you a stink eye, for looking at you with pure confusion, after you asked him one of your daily odd questions.

“Would you love me if I became a worm?”

He cannot hide his surprise, and was thinking if it was a trick question when suddenly you laughed out loud and claimed his reaction was so cute, and you cannot help but tease him.

Sakura, who cannot hide his own confusion, blurted out, “You're weird.” and the silence was so loud and suffocating. Everyone knows he did not appreciate that you called his girlfriend weird, and it will surely end in a fight.

Kotoha’s eyes were wide. Kiryuu let out an “uh oh”. Nirei and Suo were already on high alert, especially, when they saw Sugishita push his chair out of the way, when suddenly you spoke and it immediately dissipated the tension.

“Don't you dare call me that, Tsundere.”

There were seconds before everyone boomed in laughter. And Sakura was red and sputtering nonsense as he tried to defend himself.

Sugishita looks smugly at Sakura before he sits back down, chest up and proud of you. He grabbed your hand, and kissed the back of it.

That's my girl.

There it goes. The reason why he likes you so much.

He is so lucky to have a very odd girlfriend.

[dovesdreaming]

Soft spot for the merc with a mouth

Reader is known for being grumpy but there’s one person that breaks through this exterior and it’s no other than Deadpool, someone known for being deathly annoying.

I want to write more for this dynamic!

Warnings: none

-

You weren’t exactly known for being the friendliest person around. In fact, most people would describe you as grumpy, prickly, or just plain difficult. You didn’t go out of your way to make friends, and you certainly didn’t have patience for the kind of nonsense most people seemed to thrive on. You preferred your solitude, your routine, and your quiet. But then there was Wade Wilson. You didn’t know how it happened, how this loud, obnoxious, ridiculous man had somehow wormed his way into your life and worse, into your heart. It was like one day, you were minding your own business, enjoying your solitude, and the next, Deadpool was there, cracking jokes, causing chaos, and, for some unfathomable reason, you found yourself actually tolerating it. Hell, you more than tolerated it. You.. liked it.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t annoying-oh, he was annoying as hell. He never stopped talking, always had a smart-ass remark, and seemed to get a kick out of pushing every single one of your buttons. But there was something about him, something that made you let your guard down just a little, something that made you.. softer. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. “Hey, Sunshine!” Wade’s voice rang out as he barged into your apartment like he owned the place. “Miss me?”.

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look up from the book you were reading. “No. And I thought I told you to knock”. Wade plopped down on the couch beside you, completely ignoring your grumpy tone. “Yeah, but knocking’s so boring. Plus, I like to keep you on your toes. Keeps the relationship spicy, y’know?”. You shot him a glare, but he just grinned at you, completely unfazed. “Wade, one of these days, I’m going to lock you out, and I won’t let you in until you learn how to use a doorbell like a normal person”. “Ah, but you won’t, because deep down, you love my spontaneous visits. Admit it, you missed me”. You huffed, trying to keep your face neutral. “You were only gone for a couple of hours”. “Exactly! That’s a couple of hours too long”. Wade’s expression turned mock-serious as he leaned closer, his face inches from yours. “I can see it in your eyes, babe. You were lost without me”. Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth twitched, fighting back a smile. But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction. “If by ‘lost’ you mean ‘enjoying the peace and quiet, then sure”. Wade chuckled, clearly seeing right through your tough exterior. “You’re adorable when you’re in denial, y’know that?”. “Adorable?” You scoffed, though your voice lacked its usual bite. “You’re the first person to ever call me that”. “Well, that’s because I’m a trendsetter,” Wade declared, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Now, tell me how much you missed me.”

You rolled your eyes again, but didn’t pull away from his embrace. Wade might have been the only person on the planet who could get away with this kind of behavior without getting a swift kick in the shins. “You’re impossible”. “And you’re irresistible” he countered, his voice dropping into a playful whisper as he nuzzled his nose against your neck. “It’s like we were made for each other”. You snorted, but the sound was more affectionate than derisive. “You’re so full of it, Wade.” “But you love it,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Admit it. You’re totally into me”. You sighed, finally allowing yourself to relax into his hold. “Yeah, yeah. I’m into you, Wade. Now shut up and let me read”.

Wade let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest like you’d just confessed your undying love for him. “You said it! You’re into me! Oh, this is the best day ever!”. You couldn’t help the small smile that broke through your grumpy facade. “Don’t let it go to your head”. Wade grinned, his eyes shining with that familiar mischief. “Too late. Now, come on, put the book down and let’s do something fun. I brought tacos!”. You raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually bring tacos, or are you just saying that to get me to move?”.

Wade gave you a look of mock indignation. “I would never joke about tacos. They’re sacred. And yes, they’re in the kitchen. I thought we could have a little taco picnic and watch some crappy movies together”. You rolled your eyes, but the idea of spending the evening with Wade, eating tacos and making sarcastic comments about bad movies, was more appealing than you cared to admit. “Fine. But if you eat all the guac, I’m kicking you out”. “Deal”. Wade hopped up from the couch, practically bouncing with excitement. “I knew you couldn’t resist me”. You watched him disappear into the kitchen, feeling the warmth in your chest that only he could bring out. Yeah, Wade was annoying, loud, and sometimes downright infuriating. But he was also the only person who could make you smile, who could break through your grumpiness and make you feel… well, happy.

Maybe you were still the grumpy one to everyone else. But with Wade, you could be soft. And that was something you’d never take for granted. By the time Wade returned with a plate full of tacos, you were already grabbing the remote to pick out a movie. He plopped down beside you, handing you a taco with a wide grin. “To us” Wade said, raising his taco like a toast. You rolled your eyes one last time, but clinked your taco against his. “To us”.

As the night went on, you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time, your usual grumpiness melting away in the warmth of Wade’s presence. And for once, you didn’t mind letting someone else in.

[leo-bj-sof-mw-fan]

BEETLEJUICE X GN READER <3

⫸Strange but Sweet⫷

(Ps! This is my first ever fanfic :3 I hope you like it <3)

You hadn’t expected much when you summoned Beetlejuice. It was supposed to be just a bit of fun—test out that book of the dead you found, maybe meet a ghost or two. But Beetlejuice was… different. Sure, he was crude, a bit wild, but something about that messy green hair and the constant barrage of jokes had pulled you in.

The first time he appeared, you jumped in surprise as he erupted from the ground in a cloud of purple smoke. His mismatched eyes found yours instantly, and he grinned that sharp, toothy grin.

"Well, well, well. Didn’t think someone as cute as you would be calling me up. You lonely, handsome?"

You blushed, feeling your stomach flip. "I, uh, just wanted to see if the spell worked."

"Oh, it worked, babe." He sauntered closer, his striped suit making him stand out in the gloomy room. His fingers were quick to curl around your wrist, his touch surprisingly warm. "And lucky for you, you got me! The Ghost with the Most."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. Beetlejuice had a way of worming into your good graces. He was always loud and obnoxious, but it was almost… endearing. He never failed to make you laugh, even when you were trying your best not to.

As the weeks went by, Beetlejuice became a frequent visitor to your home. You’d be making coffee, and he’d pop out of your fridge with a cheesy one-liner. You’d be reading, and suddenly he’d be sprawled across your couch, complaining about how boring the afterlife was.

Yet, despite his chaotic energy, you found yourself growing attached to him. Maybe it was the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren’t looking. Or maybe it was how he’d stop mid-rant about the afterlife to check in on you, asking if you were doing okay with a surprising gentleness in his voice.

One night, you were lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, when Beetlejuice appeared beside you in a puff of smoke. He grinned lazily and flopped down next to you.

"What’s got you all broody, huh?" he asked, his head propped up on one arm.

You shrugged, glancing over at him. "Just thinking."

He wriggled closer until his side pressed against yours, his chaotic energy suddenly muted. "Thinking about me?" He smirked, but there was something softer underneath it.

"Maybe," you admitted, feeling your heart race at how close he was.

Beetlejuice’s grin widened, but his hand found yours, and he squeezed lightly. "You know, for a guy who’s still alive, you’re pretty dead set on having me around."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. "Maybe I like you, Beetlejuice."

He blinked, clearly taken aback. For a second, you thought you might’ve gone too far, but then he let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Well, babe," he said, leaning in until his nose was practically brushing yours, "I guess it’s a good thing I like you too."

And before you could say anything else, Beetlejuice closed the gap between you, his lips warm and surprisingly soft against yours. It wasn’t what you expected—there was no roughness, no teasing. Just him, pouring everything into the kiss with a sincerity that you hadn’t seen from him before.

When he pulled back, his eyes were shining, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words.

"That… wasn’t so bad," he finally muttered, trying to play it cool, but you could see the warmth in his gaze.

You chuckled, your heart light as you leaned in for another kiss. "Not bad at all."

From that moment on, Beetlejuice became more than just a mischievous ghost. He was your mischievous ghost, and though life with him was chaotic and strange, it was also sweet in a way you never expected.

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

I want you, I love you (SimonxF!reader)

Here’s one for @glitterypirateduck’s challenge for our big boy Simon! I used 7.”Accidental confession” and 25.”Ghost and reader have to dress up for an event”.

Warning: Language.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t want to go. He hated going to Galas or really any event where money and politics were being discussed, the big spenders and supporters of the military with their almost carbon copy wives. He hated having to pretend that he cared about what the old men were talking to him about, asking always how many men he’s killed for “the greater good”. Ignoring their salacious wives’ advances to simply walk off to the bar or track down Johnny.

That was before you though. You, who somehow wormed your way into his head and his heart, long since thought cold and dead.

You’d been with the team for 2 years now, seamlessly integrating yourself into their everyday. Formed a fast friendship with Gaz and Johnny, looked to Price for guidance, and never shied away from talking to Ghost himself like you’d known him for ages.

He approved of your snarky attitude and the way you operated on the field, watching his back (and saving his ass a couple times), being able to hold your own in a fight. He still goes back to the day he watched you take down Price, a man twice your size and weight, he’d never been hotter under the collar.

Now as he gazes blankly into the abyss thinking of you, ignoring the droning of the old man and his idiotically annoying wife, he catches sight of deep, sparkling blue fabric. His eyes trailed the fabric up to strings of black pearls clinging to curvy, plush hips. Up higher to more pearls hanging and clinging to a soft stomach and ample breasts, shoulders bare save for a black fur coat.

A low whistle came from his left, Johnny showing up from the corner of his eye. ”Well, never thought I’d see the day we got to see Bonnie all dressed up.” “Don’t even think about it Mactavish.” Johnny chuckled, “Aye not looking to die tonight L.T. Would nae make a move on your woman.”

”Oh are we giving Simon shit about his crush?” “Fuck off Garrick.” Gaz chuckled and patted Simon’s shoulder, “Aw Simon, give it a rest. You’ve been drooling over the bloody woman for the whole 2 years she’s been with us.” Simon looked down before following your figure again, glaring at any man that even dared to approach you, let alone try to flirt with you. You were popular among the male recruits unfortunately.

”Are ye gonna tell ‘er?” “No. Best not to.” The three men shook their heads and rolled their eyes, “Simon, I’m gonna give it to you straight.” “I expect nothing less.” “Stop being a bloody fucking muppet and go talk to that poor woman before you actually lose her to a worse muppet.” He turned to stare at Price in disbelief.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Migraine?” He looked up to find you holding out a glass of bourbon to him as you take a sip of your own and sit. He gladly takes the glass, moving his mask to take a sip. “Always luv. Never stops when you’re around idiots all day.” You laughed and shook your head, “Aw Johnny’s not that bad L.T.” “Not talkin ‘bout Johnny sweetheart.” “Mmm, the recruits giving you a hard time?” “Bloody infants. Every single one of ‘em.”

His heart sang with joy at the sound of your full laugh,  he tried his hardest not to stare but he couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful. “Hahaha tell me about it. They complain so much about literally everything. Gets annoying havin to hear it day in and day out.” He nods in agreement. The silence stretched on for a bit as you both took sips of your drinks. “Care to dance? You’re the only one I haven’t danced with yet.”

”Don’t dance luv.” “Can’t be any worse than Johnny. He tried to dip me and I almost fell.” Simon chuckled at the image of Johnny doing just that, the image making him grin under the mask. “We don’t have to. Just wanted to dance with someone that didn’t wanna stare at my chest or comment on my body.” “Shameless pigs. You deserve a proper dance then.” He watches you excitedly put your drink down and link your arm with him.

It was then he got a whiff of your perfume, light and delicious with a touch of cinnamon and vanilla. Your arm and hands were warm wrapped around his arm and he puffed up when you subconsciously groped his bicep and laid your head on it.

The two of you danced for a few songs, you leading him slowly. As the last song ended he found your face flushed and hair a bit disheveled. Eyes bright and lovely, smile radiant against your glowing skin. “You’re so beautiful luv. I want you.” ‘Fuck’. Your eyes widened as you looked up into his. “W-what?” Simon sighs, he’s done it now.

”I want you, lovie. I want your body, your smiles, your laughter. Want all your love for myself everyday. I love you.” He watched your face, anxiously waiting for your answer. A smile spread across your features and you giggled, “Took you long enough Simon.” “That mean I can kiss you now?” You nodded, smile wide as he lifted his mask slightly, arm sliding around your waist, a hand at the back of your head.

The kiss was passionate, all consuming, and delicious. Ghost never wanted to part from your lips, but the look of love shining in your eyes made him happy he did. “Wanna get out of here?” “Fuck yes. Tired of these pompous assholes.” Somewhere close by Gaz, Price, and Johnny look on, happy for Simon.

[sant-riley]

[Ghost with OFC!Reader who has a toxic family] [p1 of ?]

A/N: straight up this is self indulgent/me projecting (like all my work is) bc it's comforting for me to imagine that I have someone to protect me from life bc wow this shit sucks. Not tagging anyone due to this potentially being triggering.

CW: toxic family dynamics, swearing, mental illness, simping, age gaps, definitely not professional, Ghost punches someone (let me know if there's anything else)

~

Now I don't even have to say that Simon is extremely sensitive when it comes to family, especially since he himself grew up in a toxic environment. He knows the signs because they're the signs he saw in his day to day life.

He knew something was up when you never want to go home when breaks come, any young Rookie is usually bouncing off the walls to go see their loved ones but you? You almost look depressed at the thought. Ghost may tell people he has a cold heart, but not when it comes to you. You wormed your way into his chest next to that said cold heart and now he can't help but worry. You're too young to have probably been in a place on your own, so no choice but to go back to the family home. He was in your shoes once, he too had joined the military to find a way out.

Ghost doesn't speak to people off duty, never has but things have changed. You, Soap, Gaz, Price? You all are the closest thing he will ever have to a family again, so against his better and usual judgment, he asks you if you'd like to stay with him at one of his safe houses.

"Runt, do you....for fucks sake, do you want to come back with me? Stay with me until our next mission."

"Oh! No, I'm fine Ghost, I'm alright to go home."

A smile on your lips but it doesn't reach your eyes. He feels his own turn down into a grimace.

"Teds, stop the shit for a second, yeah? I see that look on your face, you don't want to go back there."

He rests a skeleton glove covered hand on your shoulder, caressing the skin there with a thumb graze.

"I don't want to be a bother.'"

"You're never a bother sweetheart, c'mon then."

~

Staying with Ghost is, different to say the least. He takes you to his home in Manchester and goddamn the place is barely lived in, the only place that look used is his kitchen. He really lets you have free reign of the place, the only room not allowed is his bedroom. Not because he doesn't trust you rather it's just a personal thing.

Overtime the place filled with little traces of you, your hair ties liter the counters and tables, your laughter in the other room while you scroll on your phone. Hearing your footsteps run to area of the house so you can show him said video, the groceries you buy once you learn Ghost solely lives off of take out.

"Are you serious?"

"I work out to balance it."

"Ghost-"

It warms his chest to see you show so much concern over him, a man 6'4 who could easily snap your neck. He rustles your hair with a deep chuckle.

You try and not encroach on his space but he finds that he likes it. He likes seeing your shoes next to his at the doorway, he likes seeing you cook in his kitchen, he likes seeing you wake up groggy with crust in your eyes. He loves it all. Though he'd never admit it.

You make his house, now his home feel so much warmer and brighter. You insist on catching him up to the newest movies and shows, forcing him to sit down next to you to watch the newest Marvel movie while he pretends he hates it. He makes jokes in between that he could do better than that and that if he were there, he'd just put a bullet between the enemies eyes.

Seeing you fall asleep on his shoulder brings a peace to him, his arm around your shoulders as you nuzzle in closer. He doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve you. But he's gonna pretend he does, just for a little while longer.

~

Imagine his surprise when he meets your family for the first time. You had wanted to go home and get some things to bring back to his place so he came with you on a flight since he knows you don't care for air travel by yourself.

Ghost was used to his presence scaring people and warding people off. He knows how to keep people in line, its been his job for as long as he could care to remember. So he wasn't expecting them to treat you so horribly in front of him. Really, what'd they expect to happen. First mistake.

It's such a stark contrast you are in this place, from base, the field, to the woman in front of him. You curl into yourself, hands cracking in your hoodie pockets as you sit there and just take it, waiting for a break so you can speak. You're not looking at him or even making an attempt to talk back.

Ghost knows you're grown, he knows it's not his place but he feels his blood pressure get higher and higher as they scream and belittle you for things out of your control, your looks, your weight, telling to come back home, to leave the military, anything and everything under the sun. Second mistake. He can feel his knuckles turn a stark white under his gloves and it isn't until your sibling gets up in your face with a hand raised that he springs into action. Third mistake. Ghost is a big man, but he moves fast and unexpectedly.

Before he registered it, your sibling is on the floor clutching their stomach after being gut punched. He hears them heaving while trying to curse him out, looking up with him with hatred. Simon wants to take his heavy steel toed boot and kick the fuckers face. Hell, he wants to beat the ever living shit out of every single person in this fucking house. To think they can treat you like this? Over his dead body.

He hears your parents screaming about how dare he and that he's fucking insane but when he turns to look around at you, he sees you staring up at him with tear filled eyes and a whisper of thank you. In that moment he knows, he knows he'd do just about anything for you. He shoots a withering glare at your parents

"We're taking her shit and leaving." He barks out, his eyes burning a hole in their heads while they shakily nod and avoid looking at either of you.

Ghost grabs your hand and leads you towards your bedroom where he grabs anything he can bag and helps you stuff all your belongings into it, making sure you have everything until the room is completely cleared out.

Shuffling the bags on his arms, he holds your hand again and intertwines your fingers, gently pulling you out the house and towards the rental truck. Not taking one glance at the so called family watching you two.

"You're staying with me from now on, got it runt?"

The smile on your face is so bright when you say "Of course, L.T."

-

If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter I: I Can Still Hold A Knife

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev.

song(s) for this chapter: funny you should ask - the front bottoms

a/n: aaaaaand we’re off! Thanks for joining me on yet another can of worms i’ve opened! use comments/ask box to join the…

tag list: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever

chapter tags: language, swearing | fic tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, modern!au, angst, time jumps, fem!oc!reader x eddie munson. this fic is rated 18+ MDNI

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support authors!

—

present day

The Hideout is busier than usual for a Saturday. The floors are slightly stickier, more drinks spilled than swallowed by your usual crowd of drunks, and it’s a lot louder. It’s partially your doing; the virtual fliers are plastered all over the bar’s socials, reading WELCOME HOME CHRIS in big, block letters over a picture of your brother smiling widely, a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. The last few years had been hard for you without him, but compared to your shared group of friends, you’d probably had the easiest time.

The day he’d gotten arrested, you were moving into your apartment across town, finally out from under your parents’ roof after repeatedly assuring them you’d be extra careful. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust you, but they were extra protective of their only daughter. The hovering only increased when Chris got locked up.

In the six years without him, though, you’ve grown into your independence, adapting to the abandonment with ease, resentment festering in your gut.

”Beebs!” Your mother summons you back to the present with her affectionate nickname, and you pivot to where she stands on the stage, adjusting the mic stand.

”Yeah, Ma?”

”Can you come check the levels for me, dear? I gotta sign for the cake.”

You nod, and take her place onstage, mumbling into the microphone while Mark plays on the soundboard. Eventually, he gives you the thumbs up, and you retreat back behind the bar before any of the regulars can start a conversation.

-

“Okay, Chris just called, he’s five minutes away!” Your mom makes the announcement to your guests with false confidence. You know your mother, and she’d never admit it, but she’s one hundred percent freaking out about your brother coming home. Her only son, her firstborn, possibly destroyed by the traumas of prison. You won’t be the one to tell he was probably running the place after six months. The guests, Chris’s friends as well as yours, take their hiding positions as your mother goes about dimming the lights. You duck behind the bar as your heart rate increases, your throat closing, body shaking.

“He’s coming!” Someone whisper-yells, and follows it with a “SHHH!”

You hear the door creaking as it swings open. “Ma? Why’s the light off—?”

”WELCOME HOME, CHRIS!” The room erupts in cheers as the lights are flicked on, revealing what you can only assume is your big brother, standing in the doorway. He’s bigger, more muscular than the day he’d left, but he still wears that smug grin and that eager mischief in his green eyes. The smile on his face stretches when he catches your eye, and you can’t help but return it with a big, cheesy one of your own. He turns to your mother, enveloping her in a suffocating hug before turning to where you stand.”Hi, Beebs.”

You roll your eyes as he smothers you in a hug. “I’m too old for that nickname.” You mumble it unconvincingly into his jacket.

“Oh, my apologies. What would you like me to call you?”

You ignore him, instead inhaling your brother’s familiar scent of smoke and leather. “I missed you, Crispy.”

“Missed you too, kiddo.”

-

Two hours later, and the party’s still in full swing. It seems the entire town has stopped by to congratulate your brother on his freedom, despite half of Hawkins’ residents despising him. You’re tending bar, trying to keep track of who you’ve already cut off, and which patrons are on which tabs. Cold glasses leave condensation behind on the sticky wooden counter, The Hideout has never been fancy enough for coasters.

The doors swing open again, and the faces you’ve yearned for all night enter your eye line. You can’t help but squeal as you run from behind the bar as your mom begins taking your friends’ coats.

“Oh my god, Bee!” Robin Buckley opens her arms and you practically fall into them. “It’s so good to see you, what’s it been? A hundred years?”

You snicker. “Close! Six weeks.” You let go and move to the man next to her. “Hi, handsome.” You wrap your arms around Steve Harrington’s waist, and he drapes his around your head.

“Hey, beautiful. How’s your dad?”

“He’s good, the usual.” Your parents had divorced shortly after Chris’s arrest, your dad moving to New York to escape the judgment of the neighbors.

You soak in the sight of your friends, beaming at them. They haven’t changed a bit, save maybe for a haircut and a few more smile lines on their pretty faces. You can’t imagine how you must appear to them, face worn with age and worry.

Before you can catch up, though, the bar door flies open again. The sight before you knocks the wind from your lungs, your jaw unhinged and falling to the floor. Your tongue feels heavy, uncomfortable in your mouth, and your palms start to sweat. A vision of faded denim and worn leather, noisy chains clanking on his jeans, silver gaudy rings catching the dim lights of the bar as he nervously wrings his hands together. His hair is windblown, and an unlit cigarette is clenched between slightly crooked teeth. The bar has gone almost completely silent.

“Hey, everyone.” Eddie Munson finally speaks, and your fists clench.

“Now that feels like a hundred years ago.” Steve mumbles, and Robin stabs him with her elbow.

-

It takes everything in you not to scream as you approach your mother, who’s taken your place behind the bar to satiate the patrons no longer interested in your brother’s arrival.

“Mom!”

“Hi, baby! Can you come help me back here?” She’s fighting with the soda nozzle. “I think this one’s empty.”

“Mom, why is he here?” You’re speaking low, afraid of someone overhearing.

“Why is who here? You’ll have to be more specific, dear.”

“Please don’t play stupid. Why is Eddie here?”

Your question stops her fiddling with the soda gun. “Eddie’s here?”

You gape at her, practically seething. “He walked in like ten minutes ago!”

“Honey, I had no idea he’d show up! Chris must have invited him. Are you alright?”

It puts you at ease knowing your mom had nothing to do with this sabotage, but you’re filled with rage at hearing your brother might have. “I’ll be fine. Leave it to Chris to piss me off as soon as he’s a free man.” You take the soda nozzle from your mother, needing to let out your aggression. You shake it like you would a snake attempting to sink its teeth into your flesh, wrestling with the piece until something gives, spraying club soda all over you and the bar top. “Shit!” You throw it down, and it continues releasing into the space around you, as if aiming for your wet, sticky downfall. “God dammit.”

Your mother bites her top lip, holding back a cackle. “I think we lost this battle, babes.”

“Ma!” He hops over the counter, less than gracefully, landing right in the puddle. “You cool if we play a couple? For old time’s sake?” Chris widens his eyes, giving your mother his best sad puppy look.

Your mother rolls her eyes. “Only if your sister’s okay with it.”

You drop your jaw in mock offense. “Why me?!”

“Please, Birdie!” Chris turns to you, that same stupid look on his face. “I know you miss it too.”

You groan, caving to your brother’s wish. “Fine! But I’m staying at the bar.”

He chuckles at you. “Yeah, we’ll see about that!” And he’s off, gathering his friends by the side of the stage. You look to your mother, who only motions to the crowd forming as Chris climbs on to the stage. Behind him are three more boys clad in denim and leather, chains and zippers catching the lights. You catch Robin and Steve making their way into the crowd, and you follow them before you can think better of it. They greet you with a cheer, Robin with a slightly cocked eyebrow. “How’d they convince you to come over here?”

You scoff. “Chris pulled the got out of jail card.” It earns a laugh from your friends.

“Hello, Hideout!” Chris speaks into the mic, earning the attention from the whole room. “My name is Chris L/n, and as of this morning, I’m a free man, baby!” The room shakes with whoops and hollers, wolf whistles of approval, or just drunk excitement. You clap along, heart thumping irrationally out of your chest for a reason you can’t pinpoint, that is until the house lights dim.

Chris, though charismatic and charming, is not a front man. When he’s on that stage, he’s the brother you remember; focused, driven, passionate. You’ve never seen someone play the drums like him, never been so interested in the drummer until you had a chance to watch your brother. When he sits behind his kit, though, the attention of the crowd is drawn elsewhere.

You're not special, you know that. Just like everyone else, you can’t help but watch the spectacle in front of you. The spotlight hits him as he climbs the stairs, guitar draped across his torso, frizzy curls already stuck to his skin with sweat. You clench your fists, nails digging into your flesh to ground yourself. He approaches the microphone as the music swells, a drumroll building as distorted guitars wail in unison.

“It is so nice to see all of your familiar, sweaty faces.” He starts, voice low and breathy, and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Welcome to the show. My name is Eddie. We are Corroded Coffin, thanks for comin’ out!” They go into their first song, and the crowd starts jumping, hands in the air. Even Robin, who’s stood by you these past six years, is letting her guard down, head bobbing to the rhythm. You try not to glare at your best friend, you know she can’t help it. You barely can, the music is painfully difficult not to move to.

It’s then he catches you, far too close to the stage to avoid his eyeline. “I see you, Bird. I know you wanna dance.” Robin nudges you, nose wrinkled with glee as you let the tension melt, head rocking back and forth as the music swells to its peak, signaling the end of the antics. Chris crashes his symbols, and they fade seamlessly into the first song, successfully convincing the crowd to move. A pit opens up towards the back, and you stand on the edge as Steve and Robin two step together, smiles stretched across their faces.

-

It’s 2am when you ring the last call bell, only to be answered with disappointed groans. You start pouring ice water into tiny cups, lining the bar with them for the exiting crowd. When the last stragglers step over the threshold, you’re approached from behind.

“Need some help cleanin’ up?” The voice sends a chill down your spine, so close you feel his breath on your neck.

Normally, you’d insist you didn’t want his help, but it was a busy, rowdy night. Your shoes stick to the floor, and you could use an extra set of hands, regardless of house calloused.

“Grab a rag.” You lazily point to the sink behind you, and Eddie eagerly hops to it.

“You like the set tonight?” He’s talking to you. Why is he talking to you? You respond with a “Hmm,” suddenly extremely interested in cleaning the bar.

“Felt pretty good to be back up there, y’know with the whole band.” You don’t respond, scrubbing a particularly sticky spot on the edge of the counter. “Saw you dancin’ out there. You look good. It’s nice to see you.”

You snap. “Enough. Stop talking to me. Clean the damn counter.” He chuckles, fucking giggles. Your irritation doesn’t phase him, but he obliges and sprays the counter down. The rest of the night is spent in silence, save for the low music humming from the house speakers.

-

“Get home safe, Tweety.” He has the gall to use the nickname he’d given you in high school, rolling off his tongue like an old friend. Before you can respond, he’s crossing the street to where his van is parked, cigarette hanging between his lips. When you’re sure he’s out of earshot, you let out a guttural groan, effectively shredding your vocal cords for the rest of the night.

Once in your car, your safe place, you scream.

[stormyjisung]

"So when did you know it was love?"

Members. Skz hyung line (+hyunjin)

Synopsis. Asking them about the time when they'd fallen for you entirely

A/n. I woke up missing ji and decided to write something for skiz, it's been a long time since I've written for them anyway. I was watching a movie yesterday (more like analysing the poster) and the tagline said, 'so when do you know it's love?' And my writer brain went wee woo 🚨.

Bang chan

"so when did you know it was love?"

The question caught chan off guard, eyes shifting from his phone to your face, eyebrows quirked up in amusement, "where's this coming from?"

Rolling onto your stomach you groaned, "I don't know, chan, it just randomly popped up"

A bubble of laughter left his lips, "well to answer your question, I think it was our last semester at uni? I don't really remember the setting love, but I do remember that I was having a bad day. That paired with a raging downpour pushed me over the edge and I called you, crying, definitely not one of my best moments" chan paused to shake his head, "you helped calm me down and said, 'I'll be right there' and before I could ask what you meant you hung up"

"And before I knew it, you turned up at the library soaked to the bone. You handed me my umbrella and gave me the biggest, warmest hug someone had ever given me, despite the fact that you were freezing,

We'd already been dating for a few months, and you'd stolen my heart countless amount of times but it was at that moment I knew you'd stolen my heart from me forever"

Your cheeks felt hot, chan had always been a man of many words but to hear him voice out the moment he fell in love with you word by word felt nothing short of ethereal.

"But I do wonder, why did you turn up looking like a wet dog when you had an umbrella with you?"

Shrieks of embarrassment and laughter filled the atmosphere, love seeping into your bones even deeper.

Minho

"when did you know it was love?"

You saw minho's hand pause midway while petting dori, "is this one of those tiktok thingies where go around asking your partner if they'd love you if you were a worm?"

"What- no! I was genuinely curious" you whined as minho let dori down, placing a finger on his chin he pondered.

"Honestly?"

"Yeah!" You leaned forward excitedly.

"It was that time when you messed up a party's dress code and showed up wearing a chicken onesie."

"Fuck off" you replied, kicking a pillow at his face as he cackled, "No but how does one mess up that bad?"

Faux disappointment seeped into your features causing minho to break, "okay fine. But you dare not make fun of me or I'll set birds loose on you"

"You wouldn't dare" you gasped, "try me" Came his reply.

"It was late September, when we'd just been dating for a few months and when my self confidence was at an all time low. I remember you'd been begging me to show you one of my choreos until I finally agreed."

"Oh! I do remember it, and when the day arrived you made every excuse under the sun to not show me the choreography!"

"Yeah, because I've always been a little bit of a workaholic and a perfectionist and all the girls I've dated before would ask me to stop working or 'take a break',

nothing wrong with their concern but it just got tiring since I geninunely loved dancing, but then that day when I showed you my choreography, you sat there starry eyed; watching my moves like a hawk and your mouth left partially open as if me dancing was the single most enchanting thing you'd ever seen."

"It was!" you replied in a heartbeat, not missing the way his ears turned red instantaneously, "-anyway, then I told you I wanted to work some more on the choreography before I could come home and you said 'well, let's work together!' And started giving me all these ideas even when you had two left feet yourself"

You would've retorted with a 'hey!' Had it not been the soft gaze in his eyes. You knew minho loved you, it showed in the way he'd tone down his teasing once in a while and remind you that he still loved you.

But after this, you doubt any insecurity would ever cross your mind.

Changbin

"when did you know it was love, bin?"

Changbin almost dropped the plate he was holding, caught utterly off guard by a question he most certainly had the answer to yet didn't trust his words enough, "what do you mean, babe?"

"When did you realize that you were in love with me?"

"I fall for you every day." He deadpanned

"Yeah- but, like, when was the first time?" you asked flustered by his prompt reply.

"You're cute" He giggled, ruffling your hair as his eyes shone with admiration, "I think it was when we had our first serious disagreement? The first time the rose colored glasses shattered and we could see ourselves for who we truly were"

"You said something along the lines of, 'I'd understand if you left right now' and it was the first time in my twenty one years of life that I'd experienced true heartbreak. And it was also the moment when I realized no matter how many fights we had or will inevitably have in the future, I'd never want to walk out on you or us"

He ended his little monologue by peppering sweet butterfly kisses on your forehead, "I'll always love you" He whispered between the kisses.

The orange hues of the setting sun illuminated the two soul mates in that room who failed to realize that their souls were always meant to love each other, maybe the setting sun knew their story for it smiled as it set across the horizon.

Hyunjin

"when did you know it was love?" You asked hyunjin as he raked his fingers through your hair gently, a low hum escaping him

"When did I know I'd fallen for you entirely?" He confirmed to which you gently nodded your head, the serene atmosphere felt unreal with you laying on his chest and him alternating between patting your head and softly brushing your hair

"That's a question that doesn't really have a definite answer, love"

You allowed a beat of silence to pass by before you spoke up, "what do you mean?"

"Falling in love with you wasn't a spur of the moment... it was rather an entire journey.

From the moment we met to right now, it's been one hell of a ride. We've seen seasons, weather and people change. We've seen each other change for the better, I've see you through your good, your bad and your ugly" He paused to let his eyes roam all over your face as if memorizing every miniscule detail

"But despite all of that, I wanted you. I wanted you every waking moment of my life, I wanted you on the days you were too sad to even get up, I wanted you on the days you were cranky and moody, I wanted you on the days you'd blow up on me, I wanted you, I want you.

And when you want someone like that, above their flaws, imperfections and blemishes I think it's fair enough to declare it as love"

Hyunjin was always a romantic, never failing to make you feel loved and cherished and even after years of dating him, he still managed to take your breath away. He talked about loving you as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, as if loving you was easy.

And that terrified you because hyunjin was just as easy to fall for, if not more.

Reblog to show your appreciation !

I love how I post once a week but am chronically online, tee hee.

[lightlycareless]

I found a picture of Naoya playing the piano and want to show it to you. My fav scene where naoya teaches his wife piano. I love the scene sm 🤭🤭

HIIII how are you!!!!??? Thank you for patience 🥺

Omg thank you so much for sending me this ajkghajgajgs Naoya is a man of many talents, and him using them to brighten your day is 🥺 I'll always hold that scene close to my heart, them bonding together is just 😭 oh, I wish we could have more moments like that.

And we can... I mean, I wrote a little something, like a deviation from what I have planned lol a what if, if you must 😏

warnings: none. fluff. it's based on this fic. now that's a whole can of worms. proceed with caution.

Imagine you deciding to continue your piano lessons after growing somewhat genuinely interested in learning.

After a few sessions you’ve began to show improvement. Sure, you still struggle with certain things, such as jumping from one octave to the other, but anyone could easily admit you were not the same amateur from before.

And yet… there seemed to be something holding you back from taking the next step. You were already a master of twinkle twinkle little star, so why couldn’t you move onto something a bit more difficult?

Well, it was plain simple. Quite obvious, actually, for an outsider that is. Naoya was too blinded by his role as a teacher to even notice.

It was all intentional, made from your desire to keep him close, enjoying the way he’d place his arms around you, his large hands over yours as he guides you into the correct position to play even if you already knew how.

All to keep feeling his breath on your skin, the cologne you now solely associated with him, and you suppose his attention too, especially when you played the shy, tense student that desperately needed the guidance of her sensei.

To voice such ploys made you feel silly, if not selfish, but you didn’t know how to voice your need without feeling embarrassed. You didn’t want to appear needy before a man that is always busy, and yet, here you were, acting as if you’d never seen a piano in your life.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Naoya loves spending time with you, even though seemingly mundane activities. But even he was getting a bit… frustrated with these lessons that were quickly growing repetitive. His perfectionist temperament demanded he’d do everything right, or at least strive for it, naturally extending to you. Obviously for you, the woman whom he wanted to please more than anything in this world.

You showed enough promise, a talent that could be polished if pursued, so why weren’t you advancing?

Was it… him, perhaps? Your actions consequence of his failure as a teacher?

Maybe. Naoya isn’t known for being a particularly good listener, less of an educator. There’s enough witnesses to asses to it.

Your husband just hopes his incapability doesn’t push you away from wanting to learn piano, Naoya would rather die than to cut short these already scarce moments with you.

Though it’s more likely that he’ll do that anyways, a well-prepared teacher appears to be a better alternative.

“… but I don’t get it. Maybe there’s something I’m not seeing.” Naoya frowns, adjusting his position near you and taking your hands with him once more, hoping that it’ll come to him. The solution to your problem.

He sighs when it doesn’t. For the nth time. Maybe he is a bad teacher after all.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll be able to teach you anymore.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’m just having a tough time figuring out how to help you.” Naoya laments. “I may have underestimated my skills.”

You know what they say, the best way to check if you know something is by teaching it to someone else. Something like that, or so he’s heard.

“Don’t say that I think you’re doing great!” You encouraged, looking over to Naoya and his deep frown, evidence of the frustration your little ploy has inflicted on him. Had you known he would be so affected by it you would’ve gone easier with your obliviousness…

And yet, it was endearing to see your impact on him. How hard he was trying to make things work for you—you still couldn’t believe how much of an influence you had on him, even if he’s already proved the lengths he was willing to go to make you happy.

…Like the protective husband he swore to be on your wedding day.

“You don’t have to mock me, mochi” Naoya insists. “I think you’d be better off with an actual teacher if you still want to learn.”

You do, but…

“…I want you.” You murmur, so lowly, so… sweetly, that Naoya had to double check he heard you right the first time around, quickly swirling his head onto your direction, frozen the moment your doe-like, hypnotizing eyes, those he could never get enough of, landed on his, with such intensity that let him know it was all true.

The purpose you were attempting to convey many lessons ago instantly becoming clear to him. The intentions you were too shy to speak out loud, but not enough to sway you from trying, an unknown edge of yours that had him both impressed and absorbed.

One never stops knowing their partner, do they?

What an enthralling thought to have.

“Is that so?” He murmurs back, leaning closer to you. “You’d be fine with someone like me as your teacher, princess?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone… better.” You blush. And though intimidated by his piercing gaze, you persisted. When you once cowered away, you now wished to be the only person his eyes saw.

“Then I guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Maybe it’s because he was within your reach, or because you had enough of going around in circles, whatever it was, you couldn’t hold back anymore; and with the noise of your heart deafening your ears, you lean closer to him, removing the gap between the two and placing your lips over his. Gently, sweetly, like it was your first time, and took him in—sealing your newfound sentiments with a kiss he’s long been dreaming of.

So much that he’s almost in disbelief, remaining still as he tries his best to both contain his excitement, heart ready to burst through his chest, hands itching to pull you closer and keep you there, afraid that the moment he peels away you’ll disappear, just as he’s forced you to through the beginning of this marriage.

Naoya too felt like it was the first time he’s ever kissed anyone—perhaps kissed anyone with love. With that soft warmth he could only label as true love. What he feels for you now, has always been so, and hopefully, you too.

After a few seconds, much to Naoya’s dismay, you’re the first one to separate, slowly pulling away and opening your eyes to the sight of your flustered husband, the adorable face of a man that has dreamed of this day for god knows how long, giving you the impression (alongside a sense of guilt) that maybe you should’ve been a bit more direct with your actions.

Though how everything came to be… wasn’t that bad.

“You didn’t have to go through all that, you know?” Naoya teases, his attempt to cool down the heat on his cheeks. “If you just wanted to kiss me, you just had to say so.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you joke back, and he smirks, letting out a chuckle. “…But I guess I shouldn’t have wasted your time.”

“Being with you is no waste of time.”

Now it’s your turn to grow speechless, face red, perhaps even more than Naoya’s, due to the vast, unexpected sweetness of his words, and the overwhelming embarrassment it provided you, leading you to cover your face with your hands and making him laugh even louder.

“You don’t need to act this way with me, love.” Naoya says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “We’ve done more… heated things, after all. This is nothing.”

“Oh, stop it! Is that your way of comforting me?!” You gasp, burying your face deeper into his chest.

“It is the truth, love. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“You know well I wasn’t referring to that” you murmur. “…but… do you really feel that way…?”

“I’d give you the whole world if you asked.”

But even if you didn’t, he was going to do so, because he has long sworn in his own life that he’d do everything in his power to make up for all the wrongdoings he’s inflicted upon you. His best to erase the vile acts he did when he called himself your so-called husband.

For as long as it takes, all of his lifetime if so needed, and the next one, and the next one.

“I think I’ll be happy just to hear you play the piano for now.” You eventually add. “If you don’t have anything else to do.”

“I’m all yours today—”

“And...” you interrupt, Naoya blinks.

“And?”

“If I can kiss you again.” You say, shyly looking up to him. “If you want…”

“Hm, I don’t know… you’ll have to convince me.”

“How do I do that?” you tilt your head.

“By giving me a kiss for each time you had me going around in circles.”

With unprecedented speed, you quickly grabbed his face and begging to pepper kisses all over his face, Naoya more than happy that you were, and a bit startled too.

“Wait, Y/N—did you even want to learn how to play??” He rightfully concludes.

“A bit, I guess.” You giggle. “But really I just wanted to be with you.”

Naoya immediately succumbs to your gestures soon after that, putty on your hands as he lets himself be appreciated by the woman of his dreams, the love of his life—the owner of his heart.

Your heart squeezes with longing. Who knew Naoya could be this… adorable? So sweet, you didn’t have the heart to deny him—

Nor would you, setting to live out the rest of your life as his wife.

For good, this time.

I always liked the idea of you being able to feel Naoya's heart. Like, how fast it is beating because of how happy he is with you 🥺 Thankfully I do have another prompt with that exact same situation, though it's a HS au. Also, this is not their fated kiss I owe y'all, I think what I have planned is much better 😏 (or so I hope)

Now, thank you so much for waiting for my answer 🥺 I'm still slowly but surely working through them requests :> I always appreciate whenever you send me something (so don't be afraid of sharing more hehe)

Take care and hope to see you soon!!

[soobieedoo]

Formula of Love CH. 17 - the performance (written)

word count: 1,280

7:35 pm

you were nervous.

you loved yunjin but god did you wish that you were just back in your room right now, on your bed, reading some kind of book.

you’re trying to briefly study before watching the performance, but you just can’t seem to focus.

it’s not that you didn’t want to support yunjin, no! again you loved yunjin so much you wouldn’t miss her first ever performance. it’s just why of all people did lee donghyuck have to be there too?

you’ve been getting along with him but this scene feels so unfamiliar, you can’t help but think there’s so many things you didn’t get to find out about him.

you’ve been feeling weird for the past few days, he of course has not lost his charm and honestly? its scary. as much as you want to be his friend, you can’t forget the shared experience you had together. yes, it was only a couple of weeks, a few phone calls and text conversations that lasted way late into the night. but the fact that he wormed his way into your heart super fast…weird. and well just when you thought you’d taken care of your only distraction, here he comes into your life again doing what he does best…distracting you.

7:50 pm

“taeyong i refuse to believe you do NOT have ANY croissants in there! you make them everyday don’t you?”

you look up from your laptop hearing a familiar voice, you see choi beomgyu seething in front of lee taeyong (the cafe manager).

“beomgyu for the last time, i did NOT make any today. please help yourself to any other pastries we have here.” you feel bad for taeyong, choi beomgyu angry is not a pretty sight. you decide to get up and handle the situation.

“beomgyu please leave taeyong alone” you grab his arm to try and pull him away.

“Y/N NO come on taeyong i’m a paying customer let me have some croissants please please please please” you feel embarrassed, everyone is STARING.

“here” all of a sudden a plate of croissants lands in front of beomgyu’s face.

“THANK YOU RANDOM STRAN-” beomgyu suddenly gasps and you look to see who gave the croissants.

“OH NOT RANDOM STRANGER MY BAD”

it’s donghyuck…with a plate full of croissants.

beomgyu takes the entire plate from donghyuck and runs to sit at your table.

“woah” donghyuck stands there wide eyed. i guess there goes his croissants.

you turn to donghyuck “how did you get croissants? i thought taeyong didn’t make any today?”

“taeyong let’s me help out from time to time, i saved some to snack on cause he said he wouldn’t be displaying it today but..”

“oh! holy shit im so sorry about him wait let me go get the plate back-“ you try to fast walk your way to beomgyu before he eats all the croissants when donghyuck grabs your wrist to stop you.

“nono its okay, i can have them anytime. you and your friend enjoy some while watching the perfomance okay?” you look down at where he holds your wrist, he follows your line of sight and he suddenly lets go and stretches his arm to scratch his neck “i should go with the rest of the group and warm up, thanks for coming today y/n i hope you enjoy the show” he smiles at you and begins to walk away.

8:00 pm

“y/n seriously if you don’t want him i’ll take him” you glare at beomgyu from across the table.

“you. are. embarrassing.”

“y/n he OFFERED why wouldn’t i take it?”

“normal people would only take one if someone offered them food, you took the WHOLE plate! do you have no shame?” you stare at him. beomgyu has already finished 3/5 croissants on the plate.

“y/n. you already know i’m far from normal. are you really questioning this? why would he put the entire plate in front of my face like that if he didn’t want me to take the whole thing?”

“you are unbelievable.” you try to grab a croissant but he slaps your hand away. greedy asshole.

“how on earth did you get croissants??” hanbin finally shows up alongside giselle after picking up the flowers you ordered for yunjin.

“y/n’s boyfriend gave me some- OW” you flick his forehead.

“donghyuck? he gave you croissants?”

“yes he did! he gave me an entire plate. i know why y/n likes him so much now”

before you could argue, the lights dim and soft guitar sounds start to play.

donghyuck’s voice resonates throughout the entire place.

wow. you are completely in awe…how has he never mentioned that he can sing?

i guess you should’ve known, he was always humming during calls, or more recently he keeps humming in the clinic.

you’re completely mesmerized by his honey voice that you don’t even realize their performance is over until you hear beomgyu’s loud ass clapping beside you.

you hear mark say thank you to the audience before the group exits the stage and yunjin comes to your table. you hug her congratulating her on her first performance. beomgyu even gives her his last croissant.

as your group falls into conversation you feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around and see donghyuck standing there smiling at you.

“hey! good job on stage today you were amazing!”

“oh thanks! it’s really nothing” you notice his cheeks start to turn red.

“nothing?!?! donghyuck i’m pretty sure the entire audience was in awe of your voice. if i had a voice like that i honestly would not shut up” he smiles at your compliment.

“does that include you?”

“huh?”

“in awe…of my voice” he smirks. you can tell he’s teasing you but two can play at that game.

“yeah i was actually”

his smirk suddenly goes away, a shocked look on his face. he was NOT expecting you to play along…i mean you never did.

“what? it’s true, you’re amazing hyuck. you should be proud of yourself!”

“thanks y/n, that really means a lot” donghyuck can feel his heart beating. god, you make him crazy….

suddenly he hears jaemin loudly calling out his name in the middle of the cafe breaking the moment between you two.

“oof that sounds like its important. i should go, my friends want to get some food. again, you did great today hyuck! see you around?”

“yeah of course! i’ll see you”

he can’t even focus on his steps and trips on a chair on the way to his friends.

“oh my god are you okay???” you yell out to him.

“i’m fine i’m fine! have a good rest of your day y/n!” he quickly waves at you before speed walking away to his friends

“have a good day?? its 9pm at night lee donghyuck jesus.” he’s silently cursing jaemin in his head, this is all because of na jaemin’s loud ass voice calling him out like a dog in the cafe.

“yikes that was a mess.” speak of the devil.

“why were you yelling my name in a cafe full of people?!”

“because i’m hungry??? the guys insisted on waiting on you but your ass was taking so long! you took like 10 minutes only for you to embarrass yourself!”

“i did not!”

“that loud ass noise was you falling no?”

before he can strangle jaemin, mark quickly butts in.

“alright alright break it up! lets go! aren’t you guys hungry?”

during dinner, haechan is silent. he tries to focus on his friends’ conversations but honestly? despite chenle’s yelling and mark’s consistent rambling, he can’t even hear any of it. the only thing on his mind right now, is you.

note: another written chapter!! rlly love flustered and down bad haechan but i also rlly love him teasing 😭 but he’s not gonna know what hit him once y/n gets confident enough to fire back 🤭🤭

taglist: @bloomyroses @lionzyon @ourbeautifulaffair @yewshi @injunnie-lemon @nessaassen02 @dudekiss3r @jianreadsaus @haechsworld @catpjimin @onlyhyunjin @stqrgr7 @thegracerammy

masterlist | previous | next 𐙚˙✧˖

[stars-interlude]

Even a worm will turn

a/n: YAYYYY FINALL PART (dw all 3 parts are on here so it’s the full story) ngl xiao is kinda a bully at the end of this 😭

pairings: prince!xiao X princess!reader

Tags: medieval, Fem!reader, oral fem receiving, dom to sub reader

symbiosis; having an arranged marriage was something you’ve been dreading for years as a princess then you see the man your supposed to make new heirs with and could he really be that bad?

It was a bitter day for the bride as you stood next to your soon-be husband. You could feel her father's glare burning on your back, a sharp reminder of the fate that was chosen for you. The prince seemed like a handsome man, but it was all too easy to see the anguish in his heart, like a storm brewing far on the horizon. As the tension in the air rises you couldn’t help but feel like you were about to be pushed off a cliff by your father after your vows were exchnaged. Falling into a deep darkness “Xiao do you take [name] as your wife to live together in holy matrimony to love her, honor her, comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all other, for as long as you both shall live?” Xiao responded swiftly “I do” the Notary soon said the somewhat similar words to you but none of it really mattered because you never loved Xiao.. Soon after the Wedding you talk to your father “I never wanted to do this! tell me why father, why did i have to marry this prince?!” “My dear do not fret you will not be in this God forsaken marriage for long, we just need you to make the prince open up and while your in his kingdom you’ll get his father’s warfare plans and we can destroy their kingdom.” When you heard this plan come out your father’s mouth you were in a way shocked. Not only were you allies with this kingdom so it made no sense why your father would try to hurt them but looking at the riches and power in the palm of your hand was just… you were thinking of a word.. It was just exhilarating.

———————————————————————

Of course you agreed to your father but this plan was easier said than done. “Oh Xiao shall we go to your kingdom? I would love to see the customs there” First you had to find a reason to be in your husband’s palace in the first place. “Hm.. It doesn’t take much long just a few hours or so. So I don’t see why not.” Packing your stuff with Xiao was quite easy you only brought a few changes of clothes, a night gown and undergarments of course. As you stepped in the carriage with your husband you thought of your mother she taught you many things like how to cook some foods and many other things but your favorite food thing she taught you was common phrases “Even a worm will turn. It’s an expression used to convey the message that even the meekest or most docile of creatures will retaliate or seek revenge if pushed too far. Now if someone pushes you, you can always tell me and i’ll have them dealt with.” Your mother kissed your forehead and went back to showing you how to cook. The carriage came to a sudden stop, you were so engrossed in thought that it made you forget about how long this trip was supposed to take. “Darling shall we go?” Xiao asked “we shall” you chuckled to yourself. Xiao then helped you out as you took his hand and looked into his eyes you felt something spark within but you didn’t know what it was. Was it love.. No it can’t be. you thought to yourself.

———————————————————————

When you went into the palace of Xiao’s kingdom it was as luxurious as you thought it would be. Artwork on the walls it was anything you could’ve dreamed of. “This will be your room” Xiao then showed you a beautiful bedroom “wouldn’t we be sleeping together?” Xiao’s cheeks turned a bright pink “well i suppose so” you put on a smile and gave Xiao a kiss on the cheek making him more flustered than he already was. “We are married after all” after you got into your night gown you saw xiao and he looked better than you thought his hair falling on his face beautifully and the pajamas he was wearing fit just right. “Xiao.. you look perfect” he looked at you like you said something out the ordinary “As do you..?” He said this more like a question than a statement. You then walked closer to him “well yesterday was our wedding night but we didn’t do much how about you make it up to me.. what do you think hun?”

———————————————————————

you walked closer to you husband then you already were, then you pulled him into a deep kiss as the kiss got deeper he pulled you into his lap. you could feel his cock getting harder under your cunt as you two kissed n’ grinded, he placed his hands on your hips “getting bold, are we?” you said after feeling his hands. he kissed down your neck and his hand slowly moved up your nightgown feeling your chest and pulling at your nipples. you let out a soft moan “xiao..” Xiao's lips curved into a smirk as he heard you moan his name. He continued placing kisses down your neck, his hands roaming your body "You like that?" he whispered against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “mhmm love it” you could feel yourself slipping away from your dominant attitude. “you always act so tough, i know you’re soft on the inside” Xiao said this as he gripped your hips tighter enough to bruise later. He picked you up bridal style and placed you on the bed you two were supposed to share for the night. instead of his hands going up your body he goes down and hooks his finger on the band of your panties, he looks at you before he goes and feels your cunt “so wet from just kissing? how dirty..” you let out a soft whimper “you had so much to say, what happened where’d that bold attitude go?” xiao then pulled down your panties “ ‘m not dirty!” he slipped two fingers in your cunt “if you weren’t dirty you wouldn’t be moving your hips when i thrust my fingers in you” you didn’t even notice that you were moving. you quickly covered your face after he said that. Xiao pulled out his fingers and you felt empty until you felt his breath on your cunt, he kissed your clit before he started fingering your pussy. you gripped onto xiao’s hair cause of the waves of pleasure going through your body. Maybe your father’s plan could wait a little longer..

a/n: i felt like i should quickly finish this before i start doing all the requests i got WHICH IM SOOO HAPPY ABTT TYY FOR ALL OF THEMMMMM

[tacticaldiary]

Cut From The Same Cloth

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Angst

"We're cut from the same cloth, you and I." She snarls, knuckles turning white at the grip she has on his vest. "You'll never settle for anything that won't destroy you because that's just the kind of person you are!"

Masterlist

Cool, crisp air cuts away the stuffiness of the bar as they step out into the alley.

"The hell were you thinking?" Simon hisses, yanking her away from the back door. "Running your mouth and startin' a fight like that outnumbered?"

"I could've taken them." She argues stubbornly, ripping her arm out of his grasp. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth, a bruise blooming over her jaw.

"Five to one?" He stares at her in disbelief for a second. "Bloody hell woman, are you hearin' yourself?"

"I don't need you patronising me." She snaps, dabbing at her lip with the dirty sleeve of her shirt. He runs a frustrated hand over her head at

"You're hell bent on being destructive-"

"Don't act like you're any better." She glares. "Don't play a fucking saint, Simon."

"I'm not the one starting fights I can't win."

"You're just as self sabotaging as me! Smoking, drinking, mixing yourself with people like me-"

"I wouldn't be with you if I didn't fucking want to." He warns, and nothing about this is warm or kind. Teeth bared and words sharp, the tension between them has been rising for the past month.

"Oh don't make me laugh." She scoffs. "You'd find someone much better if you could stay away from me, if you didn't keep crawling back."

"Watch it." He warns.

"We're cut from the same cloth, you and I." She snarls, knuckles turning white at the grip she has on his vest. "You'll never settle for anything that won't destroy you because that's just the kind of person you are!"

For a moment he doesn't react, letting the words she'd uttered etch themselves into the marble of his mind, resolute and honest.

Because it was honest, wasn't it?

They aren't good for each other. Late nights in each other's rooms, the sweet nothings, false promises...the rough scrape of hands, furious words and shouting. Seeing each other take someone else home after fighting. Not acknowledging it the next day, falling into the same sickly sweet, vicious cycle.

It's killing him, poisoning him in an addictive way he can't help but give into.

Destructive.

"And you're fine with that?" He grits out, grunting when she shoves him away.

"Yes, I'm fucking fine with it." Grim satisfaction and...and pride laces her voice. "This is...I live for this, Simon. This is for me. After weeks of structure and following orders, getting blood on my hands for work? Letting myself go feels so fucking good." Something sour curls in his stomach.

"We're not supposed to have a conscience." A shake of her "Keep your head down and pull the trigger, right? This," She gestures to the dingy alley, gestures between the both of them. "-is my trigger. And I'll fire as many rounds as it takes until the guilt washes away."

Her eyes are wide and earnest, and like a train screeching off the rails, a realisation dawns on Simon, breathing down his neck and twisting a knife into his gut.

He can't save her.

Not from this.

Not from herself.

A year of this back and forth, of relying on something as crumbly as hope.

Hope? Funny. When did he start believing in something so childish again?

The chink in his armor stitches itself up, solidifies into something sturdier than the brick wall she tore down to worm her way into his heart all those months ago. It was a mistake. Encased in iron and the new revelation, Ghost lets the silence hang.

The air shifts as he straightens to his full height. It's noteably enough, because the small, exasperated smile of hers slips into something more wary, the hair on the back of her next standing up while she waits for him to speak.

"You want to fuck your life up, be my fucking guest, sergeant." Ghost says.

Sergeant?

"Fire at will." Cold and callous, words sharp and to the point. "But you'll no longer be doing it from the task force."

A beat of silence.

"The fuck I won't. On what authority?" She scoffs, but the statement isn't as confident as her monologue prior.

"Mine. Price will have your discharge papers on your desk by Tuesday-"

"So this is some sick way to what? Blackmail me into staying with you?"

"I don't need you."

"Could have fooled me-"

"I don't need you." He repeats, narrowing his eyes. "Doesn't matter what I fuckin' want. I want a lot of things, doesn't mean I need them."

It's for the best, he tells himself. With how she was acting, how unpredictable she was right now she'd eventually get herself shot and killed on the field.

When, not if.

And as much as Ghost wants to walk away and forget he was stupid to let anything but shallow camaraderie grace his life, he can't stomach the thought of leaving this loose end, of being presented with a pair of her bloody dog tags instead of her smile one night.

Her indignant, angry shouts echo across the grimy alley bricks, nasty, low insults about his character, about how he's insane, how he's selfish and petty.

Setting his jaw, Ghost lets himself have one last pass of her. Rakes his eyes up and down as if trying to commit her to memory one last time. Just as she looks about ready to take a swing at him, he turns on heel and leaves her there.

She can hate him all she wants. Hate him, despise him, loathe him. He's used to it, it won't put a dent in his defences.

Hate was better than destructive indifference.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(10/12/2023)

[grapesplease]

i love you (i'm sorry)

astarion x half-drow!male!bard! tav

sum. altair has a panic attack in the underdark (being an ex-slave does that to you) and astarion is the one who keeps him together. he also has some conflicting feelings on his relationship with altair.

an. first altair piece i ever wrote, all of it will be posted here but if you want to find the rest of it its posted on ao3 under the user grapesplease. i love writing for my tav and will be writing much more :)

wc. 2.1k

The silence was deafening.

Astarion knew that something was wrong with Altair, he’d be a horrible partner(?) otherwise. Gods, he’d be an idiot to not notice, whatever was going on with him was obvious to the whole party.

Shadowheart sends him a glare, “Say something to him!” She mouths.

He glares back, mouthing, “What?”

She groans, and Astarion huffs out an exasperated sigh. What would he even say to him? There wasn’t any doubt that he was close to Altair, that was made clear after their first rendezvous at the tiefling’s party, and with how the party expressed their annoyance at them, he knew that they knew too. He still wasn’t even sure that their relationship was anything more than the flirty banter and the occasional late-night tryst.

“I think we should set up camp.” Lae’zel, surprisingly, was the first to speak, breaking what felt like hours-long silence, “I think everyone can agree that a night’s rest is needed.”

Altair’s eyes scanned the area, and he acquiesced, only giving a nod and a quiet, “Alright then..” to the rest of the group.

The elf can’t help but worry, as much as he hates to admit it. Everyone is, as he’d wormed (no pun intended) his way into everyone’s hearts. Astarion doesn’t know if he should go and talk to him, and he doesn’t have the opportunity to. As Lae’zel is, again, the first to speak up.

“Altair.” She stands in front of his tent, Altair flinching as he turns to face her, “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awfully alert, is there something wrong with this place? Or is there something wrong with you?”

Astarion cringes at the face Altair makes when Lae’zel asks if there’s something wrong with him.

“It’s nothing. Lae’zel, I’m just feeling a little off being here."

Astarion scoffs, a little off? As if he wasn’t making the “I’m going to murder someone” face for like three hours straight.

“Underdark doesn’t exactly bring back fond memories, you know, with the whole forced servitude thing..”

She only sighs, grumbling but taking that as a satisfactory answer. “Just don’t let it endanger us, istik.”

Altair lets out a sigh of relief as she walks off, and his gaze flits over to Astarion, realizing he was watching the whole thing. He lets out an exasperated groan, and motions for Astarion to come over. He shuts his book, plastering a flirty smirk on his face and sauntering over.

“So, is there ‘something wrong with you’, dear?” He jokes, mimicking the cadence of Lae’zel’s voice, “You have been awfully on edge, darling.”

“That obvious?”

“Very.”

He groans, sinking down to the ground, his face buried in his hands. “Fuuuck. Gods, I’m stressed.”

“That much is clear.” Astarion retorts, moving to sit down next to him. “Good to know that it’s stress, I couldn't tell if you were wanting to kill me or needed a drink.”

“I go for either right now, to be honest.” He jokes, looking up at Astarion, “I found something here, Astarion.”

He doesn't like the tone that Altair takes, it sends an uncomfortable jolt up his spine. He follows him into his tent, spotting an journal atop Altair’s makeshift desk. The journal's a pretty little thing, its gold embroidery shimmering against the light of Altair's lamp.

“Oh, is it cursed? Is this one for Gale or for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the embroidery. He would've appreciated the work more, if not for how grave Altair sounded.

“It might as well be.” He grabs the journal, flipping through its pages. “I haven't been all too honest with my background, Astarion. I don't think I can hide it anymore, either.”

The vampire raises an eyebrow, “So you're telling me that you aren't just a bard from Baldur’s Gate? What a surprise!”

“I’m being serious, Astarion!” He snaps, flipping to the most recent page of the journal. Astarion tenses up, frowning at him.

“The writer of this journal, she's out to fucking kill me! She found me back then, when I was in Baldur’s Gate, she- she found where I lived, and she's found me here too! Gods-”

His hands grip tightly at the edges of the journal, his breathing getting ragged and uneven. Astarion softly places his hands on his shoulders, trying to ground him.

“Breathe, darling.” He hasn't had much experience calming people, but he hopes that this is working. This is a new side to Altair, one that he’d hid well up until this point. “She's not here, we're safe, and even if she finds us, we can take her, I’m sure of it.”

“No! No, that's how she gets you!” Altair chokes out, looking up at him with fearful eyes. “She pretends, she acts all nice, getting you to trust her- then she tears it all away! Everything! She's already done it once to me, and now she's going to do it again! She’s going to torture you- and everyone here, and she's going to make me watch.”

A sob falls from his throat, his tears leave dark splotches on his pants, “And she's going to do it because she owns me- and- fuck, she’s going to find out I care about you! She’s going to make me fucking miserable, going to make me beg and grovel under the heel of her boot for forgiveness, and then she’s going to kill me.”

What?

..He cares for him?

What a mistake, he thinks, a stupid mistake, putting faith into someone like him.

But this is exactly what he wanted, right? To have Altair, the poor sod, the easiest target, his victim, care for him enough to protect him. To be willing to fight and inevitably die to Cazador or the Absolute for him.

It was the same stupid charade, one he’d done for 200 hundred years.

He forces those thoughts back down, looking Altair in the eye. This- This he could deal with later, his newfound guilt wasn't what was important here. The sobbing mess in front of him was, the sobbing mess that foolishly cares about him was what was important right now.

“Listen, she isn't here. I’m not going to die, I promise. She would've been here ages ago if she wanted to kill me.” He forces back the bile that threatens to rise up his throat as he comforts him, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world, “We’re safe, dear.”

Altair only sharply inhales, shaking his head, his long hair falling over his face.

“No- no, she's here, I can feel it, I know. She's fucking hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike!”

“Look at me.” Astarion brushes away the hair from his face, his voice lowering to a whisper. “We're okay, I’m safe, everyone’s safe, I’m not dying today. No one is going to die. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I- I..” Altair tries to steady his breathing, despite how his heart thumps wildly in his chest. “You promise?”

Astarion tries to hide his guilt.

“Yes love, I’m not going anywhere.”

Altair heaves out a heavy sigh, wiping his tears. Gods above, this was all too much for him, too many of his feelings laid bare for a man who he wasn't even sure really loved him. His true feelings had been unceremoniously spilled, his heart exposed for Astarion to see.

He wasn't a bard who told beautiful tales of romance or adventure, nor a gladiator who fought valiantly for his own freedom. He wasn't any of those fucking things. But gods! He wishes he was! He wishes he had the strength he pretends to have in front of everyone, but now Astarion knows.

He knows that he’s just a scared man, constantly running and hiding from everything that scared him. He knows that he cries like a child, forever terrified of his past.

Altair isn’t someone who confronts his past, he hides like a coward, running away to the far corners of the world thinking that he can hide. He wants to love Astarion, wants to care, he wants to do all of that without the looming fear that it’d be taken from him.

That his past would eventually catch up to him and it’d all disappear.

“Astarion, I..” His face is flush with embarrassment, head hanging in shame, he feels like he could die on the spot, “I’m sorry, for all of this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He calmly replies, “I think we’ve all been stressed, and it's not like you haven't seen me panic every once and a while.”

Altair snorts, letting out a dry chuckle, “Yeah, last time you did, you ended up killing a man.”

“He deserved it!” Astarion retorts, gasping dramatically.

“Sure, sure..” He wipes at his eyes, but realizes that Astarion is already moving to exit his tent. Was he just going to leave, now that Altair had calmed down? No, he couldn't be alone yet.

He tugs at Astarion’s sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.

The man turns and tilts his head, giving Altair a sultry smirk, “What? You just got your breath back, and now you want me to take it away again? Darling, if you wanted to sleep with me, this is a cute way to ask~”

“No! No, I just want-” He groans, refusing to meet Astarion’s amused gaze, “I wanted you to stay.”

“That’s what I’m offering?”

“Not like that!” His head snaps up to look at him, seeing a brief flash of surprise from the elf, “I don't want to be alone, not yet.”

“Not yet” Astarion feels a pang of familiarity, Altair sounded like he was resigned to being lonely forever, like Astarion himself would be temporary and he’d never talk to him again after this night.

He hates how he can relate so much to that feeling. It only worsens the pit of guilt in his stomach. He wishes he could just leave, but he knows he can’t.

He can scarcely believe that Altair just wanted him to just- be there? To what, cuddle in his bedroll and fall asleep together? He hasn’t done that in centuries, nevertheless with someone else.

“So you just want me to…” he makes a vague hand motion, “to just be here?”

“If you want.” Altair sputters out, a nervous panic seeping into his voice, “I just- I don't want to be alone, I still feel like she's there, and I'm- I’m scared, Astarion.”

It takes a great deal of effort to admit this to him, and Altair feels so vulnerable. Fuck, he's so, so scared, scared of Astarion saying no, scared that the moment he takes his eyes off of him that he's going to disappear, and that the next time he sees him, all that's left is a mangled corpse.

He’s scared that the man he’s starting to love is going to disappear, and leave him all alone with his feelings for him.

“I’ll.. of course I’ll stay, if you're scared. I did promise, after all.”

Altair shakily laughs, glad that Astarion didn't reject him. Moving to his bedroll, he motions for Astarion to join him, and he obliges, laying down beside him.

“Can we cuddle?”

“You don't have to ask, darling.”

“I know.” The drow turns on his side, burying his face in Astarion’s neck.

“Sappy.”

Astarion’s fingers thread through his white locks, messing with the long strands. It really was sweet of him, and he comes to the dreadful realization that Altair is slowly becoming more to him than just protection.

He wants to ask more about Altair’s past, who was this woman he was so afraid of? Was she really so strong that she’d kill the whole party in one fell swoop? Is she someone who’d torture him, for the sole fact that Altair cares about him?

Shit, he’d almost forgotten about that.

He's still a bit in denial about it, the fact that Altair cares for him, and that he might also care for him back. But he knows that he would never do this much for anyone else, gods, cuddling in the night? Sharing gentle touches while patching each other up and longing glances between battles? He knows that Altair is so much more than just protection.

He knows that he has to reveal his true intentions to him, but whatever confession he has dies on his tongue. The half-drow is sound asleep in his arms, softly snoring into his chest. His heartbeat calm as he buries himself further into the fabric of his shirt.

Astarion knows that he has to confess his real intentions to Altair eventually, but it could wait a little longer. He could wait a little longer to reveal how horrible of a person he was, how he was no different from Altair’s tormentor.

“Good night, love.”

It could wait.