#then they meet again and it's jarring for both lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebearer · 8 months ago

Text

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically.

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs.

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.”

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off.

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly.

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.”

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it.

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.”

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way.

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.”

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane.

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again.

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them.

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.”

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair.

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?”

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them.

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion.

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy.

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first.

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse.

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.”

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick.

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently.

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time.

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out.

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head.

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.”

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying.

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself.

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained.

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap.

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum.

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar.

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…”

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you.

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.”

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion.

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-”

“-No, no, I swear-”

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.”

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined.

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety.

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

“I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing.

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts.

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear.

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto.

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?”

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth.

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale.

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.”

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry.

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-”

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently.

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you.

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again.

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line.

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on.

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.”

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions.

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-”

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-”

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing.

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-”

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-”

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand.

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.”

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly.

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.”

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?”

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.”

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.”

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.”

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.”

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.”

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.”

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one.

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head.

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.”

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end.

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers.

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity.

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others.

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen.

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others.

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans.

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers.

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason.

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.”

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation.

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it.

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely.

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?”

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him.

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console.

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-”

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin.

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss.

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.”

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.”

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded.

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him.

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-”

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

1K notes · View notes

playnextdoor · 3 months ago

Text

Bad Example

summary: abby sets a bad example for your little one

cw: mom!abby x mom!r, fast forward a couple months to fit what i wanted to write lol, mentions of sex, no smut, abby is being lazy and reader is bitchy hehe, abby slaps your butt. you two still love each other ok?!?!?!!?!?

"Whoa there, partner!" you say, quickly scooping up your little rascal of a daughter as she reaches for the bowl of chocolate chip pancake batter. She may be over 18 months old, but that hasn’t stopped her from climbing to grab whatever you set on the counter. You set her back on the floor, revoking her breakfast-helper privileges, and she glares up at you, babbling out in protest.

"Hey, don’t talk back to your mother missy!" Abby’s voice booms as she enters the kitchen, startling both of you. You spin around, eyes meeting your beautiful wife. Her blonde hair, tousled from sleep and the quickie you snuck in before you were off to your wifey duties, falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her oversized crewneck just barely hides the shorts she wore to bed. Your stomach flutters, the desire to drag her back into your shared bedroom, but you’re interrupted by your little one grabbing at your pant leg, steadying herself between your knees. “You say that, but where do you think she learns it from?” you mutter as you turn back to mixing the batter. You think Abby didn’t hear, but she just scoffs, sorting through the mail you picked up earlier.

Usually, Abby’s a big help, but lately, she’s been testing your patience. Like earlier this week: she left her shoes right outside the shoe rack again. You tripped over them coming in with your daughter, nearly dropping her. When you yelled about it, all she did was laugh, reaching over to kiss your forehead “You're so cute when you're mad,” you immediately wiped the kiss off. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing a quick apology against your cheek before wrapping you and the baby girl in her arms. The little one giggled, but you just rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smack Abby.

Or like yesterday: Abby offered to put the baby down, but by 8:30 p.m., peeking into the nursery, there they were, Abby, blowing raspberries on your little one’s belly, sending her into a fit of giggles. Adorable, yeah, but it was well past bedtime. "I don’t know if I want to yell or kick you," you said, Abby froze like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Without another word, you scooped up your baby girl, wrapped her in her blanket, and headed out of the room. It wasn't a big deal, really, but it was the cherry on top of a frustrating day. Abby apologized later that night, swooning you with kisses and tangling you both in the sheets.

Even though you woke up to a nice surprise this morning. Abby's hand traveling down your pajama pants, her whispering in your ear, “Let me get a taste, yeah?” in that husky morning voice that makes you weak, you're still pissed at her

“Ugh, they need to stop sending me this garbage,” Abby grumbles, tearing up a campaign flier and tossing it in the trash. The kitchen grows quiet as your little one now stands at your side, reaching her tiny hands up at you, whining to be held. Just as you turn around, you feel a sudden sting on your left butt cheek, a familiar smack. Abby’s got a habit of this, so you try to ignore it, denying her the reaction she’s after. But then you feel three little slaps on your thigh, just under your rear. You look down to see your little one mimicking Abby’s antics, her sweet face looking up at you.

You let out a laugh of shock, looking up at Abby, whose mouth hangs open in a proud, slightly shocked grin. “What did I tell you, Abby?” you say, raising your voice as Abby breaks down laughing. Your little girl crawls over the blonde, picks her up, and joins in her laughter.

“You think it’s funny, but now she’s going to start slapping stranger’s asses,” you say, trying to keep a straight face but failing, biting back your smile. Abby stifles her laughter as she looks at your mischievous little one, who babbles a few “mamas” in between giggles.

“No, lovey, we don’t hit Mama,” Abby says, wagging her finger playfully. Your daughter's face crumbles, her bottom lip jutted out in a pout as tears well up and spill down her chubby cheeks. Abby cradles her, muffled sobs in the crewneck of your wife as Abby silently laughs.

“Babe! Go put her down for her nap. And be a good mommy and apologize to her!” you say, rubbing the little one's back gently. Abby shakes her head, laughing to herself as she kisses your daughter's head, soothing her as they head off to the nursery. As Abby turns to walk away, you sneak a little squeeze on her butt, her glaring back at you playfully.

You turn back to the batter, giggling to yourself as you add a bit of water to smooth the mix, listening to Abby and your baby girl’s babbling conversation down the hall. Suddenly, there's a loud thump, followed by a frustrated “SHIT!”

“What happened?!” you call out, dropping the spoon and standing still, waiting for Abby’s response.

“My damn shoes!” she yells back, voice muffled as you hear her step into the nursery and closes the door behind her.

You smirk, shaking your head. That's what her ass gets.

a/n: all my ideas come when it's 4am and i cant go back to sleep but i dont want to look at my phone bc then i wont go back to sleep so i will just make these fake scenarios to help me sleep. LOL. should i make this a series? lmk <3

#tlou abby #abby x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader fluff #abby anderson #abby anderson fanfic #tlou2 x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #wlw writing #orion's writing

667 notes · View notes

fathomlessgaze · 11 months ago

Text

perfect: zayne takes solace in hearing the heartbeats of those he loves deeply, which now includes one more little one

all fluff dw, husband!zayne/reader, ~.9k

warnings: reader is pregnant + called a mother, maybe not canon compliant but spoilers about mc's lore and allusions to zayne's lore (mainly myths story + maybe that dawnbreaker anecdote), zayne being a doctor + lots of heartbeat ments but i didnt research so maybe medically inaccurate, i believe in (future) girldad!zayne

an: i haven't written ff in 5ever + didn't edit on top of this so my apologies LOL im just really downbad for this ice man n wanted to write smthn rq

the soft, muffled clinking of keys and the creaking of the front door ruffle your slumber, your eyes slowly fluttering and flickering to the entryway where, sure enough, your husband steps inside. as he catches a glimpse of your, supposedly, sleeping form, a soft grin takes over his features and you think, maybe, you’d like to see where this goes.

he puts his bag down by the console table and takes off his shoes and you steady your breath, hoping he hasn’t noticed your lingering gaze under your lowered lids. fishing out his stethoscope, he hangs it around his neck as he takes cautious steps towards you, tip toeing to avoid all the creaky spots of the hardwood floors. he’s slow as he lowers himself on the couch, taking a moment to admire your curve of your jaw and the pout of your lips before putting in the earpieces.

zayne really was trying to be careful. he’d taken the metal between the fabric of his jacket, an attempt to reduce the jarring difference between its chill and your warmth, and moved as slowly and quietly as he could as he sat next to your snoozing figure on the sofa.

he watches carefully before his stethoscope finds your heart and its rhythmic beating fills his head. while it isn’t new news, the reminder that the organ that keeps you alive is perfectly well and healthy always brings ease to his own, this time given a physical form through a quiet exhale falling from his lips. clear and strong, not a single hint or vibration of the fragments that used to plague your being, your heart beats in time with his, he’d like to think. he allows his eyes to get misty, a faint smile and chuckle escaping as he tries to wipe the tear that threatens to fall with his free hand.

he stays like that for a minute more, simply relishing in how far you’ve both come. he remembers that surgery like it was yesterday, with how demanding and long it was, the aches settling in his muscles and bones by the end of it, only to jump head first into the delicate, intensive recovery you needed and he helped you through. and he would do it again and again, if that’s what it would take.

oh, how your fingers itch to brush the side of his face, cup his cheek in your palm and brush the stray hairs behind his ear. you can always tell when he starts reminiscing, how a moist sheen covers his beautiful eyes, furthering just how precious they are. but before you can move your arm from where it rests on your leg, he’s taking back the chest piece into his palms, holding it gingerly.

with one hand, he gently runs his fingers along your stomach until he finds a spot that causes his eyebrows to raise for the slightest moment, before the stoic expression returns to his face. the now cool metal in his other hand replaces his other hand, and, if it weren’t for the quirk of his lips, the soft smile and endeared look in his eyes, you would’ve been none the wiser to what had happened. he takes in the rhythmic beating in his ears. that’s…your baby, well and healthy and all he could ask for. a small sigh escapes his lips. he could stay here and listen to it for forever.

maybe you should cut the act.

fluttering your eyes open fully, you meet his tinted cheeks with a coy grin. “what’re you doing?” you ask, feigning innocence.

he brings his hand to his neck, scratching slightly at the pink-tinged skin before clearing his throat. “i–uh–i thought it would just be nice to see if we could hear her heartbeat yet.”

you lean forward, biting your lip to stop the knowing smile from escaping as you rest a hand on his shoulder and rub his cheek with your knuckles. “and do you?”

he nods, his rare beam coming to the surface before he kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger. “it’s beautiful and strong, just like her mother.”

before you can reply, he’s removing the ear pieces and fitting the stethoscope around your head, the quiet rhythm now taking over your senses. it’s gentle, delicate, but definitely there and determined.

“that’s our baby,” you murmur. suddenly emotion washes over you and you rub your eyes with your sleeves. “oh, zayne, it’s lovely.”

he bobs his head, taking one of your hands in his to hold the metal still against you so he can now use his free hands to brush the droplets from your cheeks and wrap you in his arms, snug in his embrace. with a gentle kiss to your temple, he lets out a shuddering breath, not daring to speak before he can stabilize the shakiness in his throat. “it’s perfect.”

“y’know,” you start, a small laugh escaping as you try to not cry into zayne’s button-up, “this is all i could’ve ever wanted, i think. if you told me when we met as kids this would be my life, i don’t think i would’ve believed you, but this is perfect, just as it is, you, me and her.”

he nuzzles his head against your neck, a quiet agreement taking form as a faint kiss on your shoulder. “this is the life i’ve waited years, forever, for.” he squeezes your frame slightly, holding your closer. “it’s so perfect.”

#i didnt proofread this at all i finished n was like okay thats a day LOL #zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne fluff #zayne x you #zayne x y/n #love and deepspace fluff #l&ds x reader #mine

707 notes · View notes

littlejuicebox · 1 year ago

Text

An Early Highharvestide Feast

(Soft Dom Astarion x Female Reader)

-----

Setting: 4 years after BG3, "good" ending, Unascended Astarion x F Reader Notes: Took a break from my WrenxAstarion fic to write this Thanksgiving-themed (kind of but not really... lol it just worked for the plot), one shot. This idea was playing in my head, and I had to get it out. Hope you all enjoy and have a happy Thanksgiving! This might end up being a Part 1 of a mini story. I'd like to do the fluff scene with all their friends around and imagine the lives they've lived. I love to see comments about what you liked in the story, it inspires me for other fics. Rating: Mature 18+ / smut Word Count: 2.5K

-----

You’re in the kitchen, flowers strewn about the marble countertop as you arrange the bouquets for tomorrow’s banquet. It’s been four years since you’ve seen everyone at the same time, and finally, finally, the old gang will be back together in one room in less than 24 hours. Your heart practically soared in anticipation... a Highharvestide banquet in your very own home, with your favorite people in the world. You wanted everything to be just perfect.

The planning had taken weeks. Astarion had left the menu to you, of course, apart from the wine and alcohol selection. He had taken that from you quite early on and it had been more than a tenday before he solidified his choices between his frequent business meetings and your political events. He’d focused heavily on guiding you both in politics and expanding your wealth the past few years, while you focused on gardening and improving Baldur's Gate... plus navigating the lack of anonymity in your life.

Admittedly, you’d stumbled clumsily through your change in status, from unknown woman to Lady Ancunin, while Astarion glided into the position like he’d simply left his post for a long vacation. You’d been happy to take the lead in the wilds while a tadpole was lodged in everyone's brains, but you were even happier to hand the reins to him once the city was safe. And you were always proud to tell your friends that he’d navigated the two of you through the changes quite well.

In fact, he'd just purchased a second property outside of Baldur’s Gate with aims to start your very own winery; his pet project that he loved quite dearly. It was beautiful to watch Astarion approach something with such passion and vigor. After becoming the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, it had pained you that he could no longer stand in the sun. Not as much as it so obviously pained him. His mask was carefully crafted, and yet you often saw right through it. You hoped that perhaps one of your friends would bring news of a cure for his condition to the feast.

He had always been adamant that he’d make the same choice over and over again, but guilt still stabbed you like a dagger to the gut when you saw him watch the sun rise from the deepest depths of your manor or caught him studying your tan lines from your many hours spent out in the garden, your own personal pet project, specializing primarily in night blooming plants.

Astarion’s voice pulls you from your reverie as he enters the kitchen with Scratch trailing behind him. His vermillion eyes are focused on a scroll in his hands as he grasps a bone from a jar and tosses it into the dog’s bed. Scratch obediently settles himself into the plush mattress, content to gnaw away at the treat.

“Darling, your dog went after the chickens again. One of the staff had to run him down and then give him a bath. We may want to seriously consider a trainer. Command beast works all well and good when you’re around, but not everyone has that skill set in their repertoire, dear.” His tone carries just the slightest tinge of annoyance; you two have had this conversation before. But you know in his heart of hearts that Astarion loves the blasted dog perhaps more than you do.

You glance at Scratch, currently focused on giving you his best look of feigned innocence. The look reminds you quite a bit of another white-haired miscreant standing in that very same kitchen and you chuckle. Distracted, you feel the miscalculated slip of your hand as you reach for a particularly thorned flower stem. The punishing sting causes you to wince and pull in a sharp intake of breath. Blood blooms in buds of red on your fingers and the scent catches Astarion’s attention immediately.

His eyes are alight as he chides you. “You really must stop bleeding everywhere, my heart. It’s distracting.” He places the scroll down and comes to your side, grasping your hand in his to examine the damage.

“Perhaps if you helped me with these arrangements like I’d asked, I wouldn’t be in this situation, my love.” You respond with a soft huff, but you extend your hand towards the vampire, already quite aware what his next move will be. He bends to lick the red droplets from your skin before he kisses the knuckle of your hand. Astarion will never waste such a precious thing, that much is certain.

“Perhaps if you more frequently used the staff -- that we pay quite well, might I add -- to do things like tend your garden, put all these flowers in vases, and perform any number of menial tasks, then you wouldn’t be in this situation.” The vampire retorts with a raised eyebrow. “All of this is below your station now. It truly pains me to see your beautiful hands doing such things, my dear.”

You smile as you close your eyes and whisper a healing incantation, sealing the superficial wounds with minimal effort. You swivel in your seat and turn to face your husband, eyebrow arched to mirror his own, voice slipping into a coy register. “And what, Lord Ancunin, would you rather see my hands doing?”

You won. You could see it in the darkening of his eyes as he placed his hands on either side of the counter and pressed forward to look at you, red eyes flitting between yours.

Astarion had ebbed and flowed in his sexual appetites, especially in the first few years of your union. He had been plagued by panic attacks and night terrors something awful; they still occurred but not with the same horrid frequency. Your many nights of herbal teas and "flower child" magic, as he so lovingly called it, eased the suffering. You’d been content to ride the waves of desire with him, and it seemed more recently, as the two of you adjusted to domestic life, his appetites had returned with force.

His face hovered just inches in front of yours, eyes alight with a combination of adoration and lust as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back and running his eyes greedily down your body, cocking his head as he fantasized about any number of dirty things. “I have several delicious ideas for those hands, darling.”

The flowers were scattered on the ground, along with a broken vase in an instant. The vampire hoisted you up with relative ease before placing you onto the cool, marbled counter. His hands grazed up the side of your silken gown and then delved under the hem to explore your bare skin. He quickly found his way to the junction between your thighs and a pleased, rakish smile crossed his face.

“No underclothes, Lady Ancunin? You truly do desire to test my patience today.” His eyes locked with yours as he knelt in front of you, draping your legs over his shoulders and pushing your dress up to reveal you to him fully.

You would have to enlist the help of the staff tomorrow afternoon. The tradeoff was well worth it, you thought, as your silver-haired husband bowed his head before you to run his tongue against your slit, a little hum escaping him as he tasted your warmth. He ran his tongue up to your clit, his lazy, languid strokes pressing into you. Always such a tease.

“Astarion…” You murmur, bucking your hips toward the vampire as your hands found silver curls of hair and took hold.

A smile snaked its way across his lips as he continued his torment. You were wriggling, desperate for more, which the elf adamantly denied you, his hands gripping into your thighs as he brushed his feather light tongue against you once more. Just enough stimulation to keep your attention, but not enough to provide any relief.

“My love..” Your tone is practically begging for him to give you more.

“Mm, darling. I do believe I need to show you what else your hands could do, don’t I?” He grabs your hand and yanks it towards your sex, where he guides you to play with yourself. Hungry red eyes watch the show as arousal begins to drip from you onto the countertop. He slips two long fingers deep inside your cunt and curls them slightly, pumping the digits in and out, which earns him a delightful moan. Still on his knees, the vampire removes his fingers from inside your walls and licks your juices off his hand before sliding your legs off his shoulders and standing. He makes quick work of ripping your gown over your head, pressing gentle kisses against the newly freed flesh of your chest. You are now completely barren and exposed to your lover, his lustful eyes stoking the fire between your legs.

His own arousal is now clearly straining against his clothes. Astarion quickly undoes the buttons of his collar and lacings of his trousers, freeing his cock before your hungry gaze. You’re still playing with yourself as you watch the man completely undress before you.

“Now darling…” He murmurs in that sensual tone reserved only for you. He guides your unoccupied hand to the twitching length of his cock and wraps it around the shaft, giving a few experimental pumps into your hand. “What else can your beautiful hands do?”

You take the queue and begin moving your hand around his length. Astarion hisses in pleasure, rolling his hips as he fucks your hand. The vision is quite lewd; you're playing with your own pussy as you pump your lover’s cock in time, your respective arousals just inches from one another but not touching. It's enough to cause the heat in your cheeks and your sex to rise and illicit several excited keens from you. He teasingly moves his length closer to your entrance, pulling away just as the head of his member brushes against you. You want to scream every time he pulls away, the bastard lives to tease you to the edge of desire.

Astarion was watching the scene with rapt interest, absolutely transfixed. His breath was quickening as he pressed himself into your hand, watching the head of his penis sheath and unsheathe itself under your ministrations as your pussy prayed to be plunged into, leaking arousal all over the cold countertop. He was always more in control in these situations, able to keep a firm hold on his desire in a way you never could.

“Look at my little treat, making such a mess on these expensive counters.” He murmured in mock disappointment and mock condescension, eyes burning with excitement. “Play with yourself and show me the mess you make when you cum for me, my sweet.”

You moan, desperate to have him fill you. “Astarion, please. Fuck me already. Please.” You’re keening, fingers rubbing against your clit with vigor. Desperate for something to fill the ache inside you, you remove your hand from your lover’s cock and shove two fingers into your wetness. The stimulation is fantastic and rips a moan from your vocal cords as your head tilts back.

Astarion chuckles darkly at the scene before him. It was no secret that he loved the way you inflated his ego when you begged for him, a writhing mess of wanton desire for his eyes only. The do-good, stoic hero of Baldur’s Gate turned into a desperate, needy little minx under his touch. He never tired of it. “Cum for me, darling. And then you will get your reward.”

You aim to do as he says, using one hand to plunge in and out of yourself while the other rubs frantically at your clit. Your legs are spread wide, displaying everything to the vampire as you push yourself towards release. Finally, the bubble bursts and an orgasm crashes around you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body and into your thobbing sex. The pulsing seems nearly endless, and you feel the ooze of your juices sliding between your legs as you ride the wave of pleasure. When you come to your senses and flutter your lids open, Astarion's eyes are boring into you with such desire that it causes a tremor of excitement to run down your spine.

In one swift move he has you in a new position. Your feet are on the floor, albeit legs a bit shaky, and your ass is turned toward your lover, body bent at the waist. Your face is pressed into the counter, into the stickiness of your own juices. Everything smells of sex.

A delicious groan escapes from the vampire as he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, ready to take you from behind. “Beautiful... now, let’s see if I am able to make you come undone once more.”

Astarion slams into you with vigor, the force of the movement knocking the wind out of you as he groans in appreciation. Your soaking wet sex offers no resistance and you gasp at the pleasure of the rapid intrusion. He repeatedly drags himself back at a tortuous, languid pace just to thrust himself balls-deep once more, snapping his hips into the flesh of your ass, moaning every time he takes you to the hilt.

“Oh gods!” You exclaim as he picks up the pace, pumping into you with increasing speed, his cock curving gratifyingly along your insides. You feel yourself clenching around him as his efforts push you toward another peak.

Astarion growls and grabs your hand, guiding it once again to your clit. You’re climbing up to a second release as he rolls his hips behind you in an unceasing onslaught.

“There you go, little love. Won’t you cum for me again?” He coaxes in a graveled whisper as his lips and tongue trail down your spine, never once ceasing his thrusts. The vampire’s teeth find a beautiful little spot at the meeting point of your shoulder and neck, and he bites down, just enough to draw blood. The sensation pushes you over the edge and you spasm around your lover, your cunt eagerly gripping at his length.

“Oh! Oh... oh, my love.” The vampire groans as your throbbing sex pushes him over the edge, his final pumps turning sloppy as he spills into you. The two of you are a mess of panting chests and tired limbs for a few moments before Astarion straightens himself up and gently pulls you from the counter, dotting kisses along your shoulder where he left the bite.

"That was wonderful." You whisper, turning to face the vampire as you plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Mmh.” Astarion agrees in a little hum as he looks down at you with soft and loving eyes, pushing strands of hair away from your face before holding your chin in his hand and planting another kiss on your lips. The slightest of smiles flits across his lips as he runs his hands down to the curve of your waist. You move to begin cleaning up the mess you two made when your lover grabs your hand and begins to tug you away from the kitchen.

"Now, now, darling. Leave that be. I haven't finished showing you what else your hands can do… and we only have a bit longer before our friends show and ruin all the fun. Seems my Highharvestide feast came a day early." He muses, before eagerly leading you to the bedroom you both share. The flowers would have to wait.

——-

Part 2: Happy Highharvestide Day (all fluff)

407 notes · View notes

loquaciousferret · 2 years ago

Note

I could totally see Javi using his handcuffs on you and getting rough with you when you get mouthy with him because he’s gone a lot for work and you’re lonely 🤭

Ugh dude this thought sent me fucking feral… I had to write something about it immediately. I want him to be my slutty cop boyfriend so bad.

I tried to keep my response to this short and safe to say that didn’t happen so here we go lol I took this and ran with it

All Work, No Play

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ for smut. Unprotected sex, rough sex, use of handcuffs/restraints, pet names, angry(ish) sex, roleplay. Spanking. Maybe more so read at your own risk!

Word Count: 1.5k

Taglist: @silkiers @tightjeansjavi

You heard the key turning in the lock and then Javier’s distinct footsteps as he entered the apartment.

You checked the clock in the corner of your laptop as you continued typing away. 11:14PM.

He called your name and you ignored him, your attention remaining on what you were working on. He found his way to you quickly anyway where you sat at the kitchen table that doubles as your office space in your small apartment.

“s’there any dinner?” He grunts, pouring himself a whisky.

You don’t look up as you respond, flatly. “There was. Three hours ago.”

You can feel his eyes burning into you, but you don’t meet them. The only sounds in the room are of him sipping at his drink and you typing.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry that Escobar didn’t consider your dinner plans when he decided to kill some of my men today. I’ll make sure he consults you first next time.” You hate when his tone drips with sarcasm like this. You knew what you signed up for with Javi and his work, but it shouldn’t mean that you were never allowed to be disappointed about how little time you got with your fiancé.

“Funny, Peña.” You finally flick your gaze up to take him in. His eyes are dark.

“Don’t call me that.” He says through gritted teeth.

You slam the lid of your laptop closed, knowing you won’t be able to concentrate again with you and Javier at each others throats.

“Or what?” You defy.

“Listen cariño,” He begins. He smiles and it seems warm at first but you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. He has finished off his first whisky already and is pouring a second. “You only know Javi. You wouldn’t want to get to know Agent Peña.”

“Actually, if this Agent Peña knows how to treat a woman, I think you ought to introduce me.”

Before you can decide whether this last comment was a terrible idea and a step too far, he has finished his drink in one swift gulp, closed the distance between you with two confident strides, and is ripping you out of your chair, lifting you and placing you down again so you are perched on the kitchen table.

“He doesn’t really deal with women unless they are suspects or whores. Which are you?” He growls in your ear.

You clench your thighs together. You curse whatever faulty part of your brain is making you extremely horny instead of jarred by hearing your fiancée talk like this.

“Well I’m certainly not a whore.” You whisper.

“Hm.” He murmurs, nodding, his face still so close to you that the motion tickles.

In a swift and clearly practiced motion, he has flipped you round and is pressing you into the edge of the table. Then, cool metal slips around both of your wrists, tighter and tighter until you can barely wriggle your hands.

You briefly wonder what has gotten into Javi. This is not something you have ever done together. He doesn’t mix work and pleasure anymore, not with you. It had lost all appeal for him. Or so you thought.

His rock-hard erection straining in his jeans against you snaps you quickly out of these thoughts and back into the moment.

You wiggle your ass, rubbing against him and he grabs the handcuffs and pulls, making them dig into your wrists. You whine at the not entirely unpleasant pain.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses into your ear. “Try anything funny and you’ll regret it.”

You are surprised at how much this turns you on. Javi does a good job separating his work persona from the side of himself he gives you. The man in command of you now couldn’t be further from your doting partner. But you like it.

“I think,” he says, “this arrangement will work for us both. Maybe teach you not to get caught up in the wrong crowd again.”

He maintains a tight grip on the handcuffs with one hand and is unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock from his jeans with the other. He roughly grabs at the tight yoga pants you are wearing and tears them down your legs until they bunch around your ankles. He spreads your thighs as much as possible in this position with one strong hand, before sliding a finger through your dripping wet folds.

“You dirty girl. You wanted this, didn’t you?” He teases, rubbing at your wetness with more force.

“Mmhmm.” You agree, the affirmation coming out as a breathy moan.

“If you take my cock well enough, I won’t tell anyone about what you’ve done. How does that sound?”

“Yes, please Javi.” You moan. This earns you a harsh slap to your ass cheek and you yelp.

“Who do you think you are talking to?”

“I’m sorry, Agent Peña. Yes. I can take it.”

“That’s it.” He praises, his tone low and husky. He slips a couple of fingers inside you, working them in and out, curling them to reach the most pleasurable spots. “Show me some respect. It will make this easier on you.”

He lets go of the handcuffs and you relax onto the cold wood beneath you, laying your chest flat against the surface of the table. He removes his fingers but the sensation is quickly replaced with his large tip nudging at your entrance.

He stills for a second. You go to turn round to look at him, wondering why he has hesitated and you find him taking his shirt off. Then, suddenly he plunges into you right to the hilt at full force.

You cry out at the feeling.

“You told me you could take it.” He grunts, piercing you with full force thrusts.

“Y-Yes.” You moan out. “I can take it, Agent. Please don’t stop.”

The table creaks as he continues to plow into you. You strain against the handcuffs. He enjoys watching you like this and he regrets not having tried it with you sooner.

The sounds of skin slapping and your moans and cries fill the apartment, probably audible from the hallway and the neighbouring properties. Neither of you care. It was the first sex you had had all week. His schedule made it hard to ever get enough of each other.

He pulls out and turns you onto your back, you wrap your legs around his waist. He gropes at your tits roughly, slapping, pinching and squeezing them as he fucks you into the table. It moves across the tiled floor slightly due to the force. With your arms pinned behind you, the handcuffs dig into you, and you arch your back to get away from them.

“Does it hurt?” He grumbles.

“Yes, Sir.” You whine.

“Good.” He says back. He moves one hand to play with your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. This sensation distracts you from the pain of the metal biting into your skin.

It doesn’t take long before you can feel yourself getting closer to orgasm. You had been touch-starved all week and that only made it easier for him to pleasure you.

“Tell me who makes you feel this good?” He demands.

“Ah-“ You try to speak and only a cry of pleasure escapes you.

“Answer me.” He snaps, lightly slapping your clit. The sensation sends tingles rushing through your whole body. He sees your reaction and does it again.

“Y-You, Agent.” You struggle to get out. “Only you, Agent Peña.”

“That’s right.” He rubs your clit again, faster and with more force. The friction is close to sending you over the edge.

“Don’t cum yet.” He warns. “Together.”

You bite your lip and nod. His hands move to your hips and he slams you down onto his cock, each thrust hits the deepest part of you and you struggle to hold back, clenching around him, becoming impossibly tight as you concentrate on withholding your release.

His thrusts falter and he grunts loudly, then demands “Cum for me. Now, baby.”

You focus on your pleasure and you let go, your legs tensing up around him, holding him closer inside you. He spills into you with a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Jesus.” He says, and pulls out with a hiss.

He lifts you up towards him by his shoulders, holding you close. He searches in his jacket pocket which is strewn over a nearby chair, retrieving the key and unlocking the handcuffs, tossing them aside. They clatter loudly where they land.

You know the moment is over and your Javi is back when he tenderly strokes your hair with one hand, presses a kiss to your forehead, and rubs your wrists with his other large, warm palm. “I have the rest of the weekend off. I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow, hm?”

You smile and nuzzle closer into his bare chest, tightening your arms around him into a hug. “Thank you, Agent Peña”

He tuts at you and pulls away, grinning. “Don’t get me going again, girl.”

#javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena fanfiction #agent pena fanfiction #agent pena smut #agent pena fanfic #narcos smut #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #agent pena x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #agent pena x f!reader

912 notes · View notes

lalunanymph · 2 years ago

Text

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

𖨆♡𖨆 itoshi rin x fem!reader x itoshi sae

✧˚ · . a tornado meeting a hurricane, a wild flame catching onto dry straw—that was how it felt like to love the both of them: disastrous.

✧˚ · . cw. love triangles, cheating (w. rin), established relationship (w. sae), explicit smut, mirror sex (w. rin), degradation (w. rin), unprotected s[e]x (w. rin), soft!rin, language, tension, family dynamics, mentions of food, biblical references

masterlist | playlist

#2 — WE’RE MAGNIFICENTLY CURSED

Sae’s name flashed across your screen, and you peeked up from under the covers to paw at your phone, biting your lip.

It had been a few hours after your tryst with Rin, and though the evidence was washed away from your deep-clean shower, and your clothes tossed into the washing machine to rinse out the scent of his skin and cologne, you still felt coated with his sweat; could still taste the imprint of his touch on your tongue.

Guilt split through your entire chest when you decided to decline your boyfriend’s call.

Sae’s text was immediate:

Hey, you okay?

Deciding you could at least face him through messages, you replied.

Sorry, not feeling too well. Got caught in the rain and I feel like shit rn lol. I’ll call you tmrw?

His one word reply stabbed you with more regret.

Ok.

Though you could not read his tone, you knew Sae would be worried. It was implicitly a routine whenever he went overseas; he would call you up after a game, you both would speak for a few minutes, and he would wish you goodnight or good morning depending on what time it was for him there.

The fact that you were more comfortable with not hearing from him exacerbated your regret, and you fell into a discomforted sleep filled with nightmares of apathetic teal irises and harsh words thrown into your face.

When you awoke in the morning, you blinked your sticky eyes and wiped the remnants of tears from your face. Your phone was still in hand, and a message flashed across your screen, your blurry mind sharpening to focus at the sight of an unknown number.

Sae told me you’re not feeling well & he wants me to check up on you. I’m coming over in 15.

Rin.

You shot up from bed, wiping the drool from your chin and rushing into the bathroom to get ready. When it occurred to you that this was the furthest thing you should be doing, you set your used toothbrush down, brow furrowed and reached for your phone again.

I’m fine. Don’t come over, please. Thanks.

The younger Itoshi didn’t reply, and you assumed you were in the clear; that he would take the hint and leave you alone.

Little did you expect your doorbell to ring only ten minutes later. Dread pooled in your stomach, icy cold and thick. You let him ring the bell a few more times, and when you didn’t answer, your phone vibrated with an unknown number.

When that didn’t garner your response, Rin started to pound on your door. His muffled baritone demanded you to let him in and his thunderous knocks jarred you to the core. You rushed forward to comply before your neighbours could submit a noise complaint, a migraine festering on your right temple.

Those cool, teal irises appraised you, and you tried to not quake in front of him in nothing but your old uni t-shirt and sleep shorts.

Rin’s presence was comically large in your tiny apartment. He towered over your rickety couch and dining table, his presence a vortex to any warmth you felt in this cramped space you called your home for the past three years.

He broke the silence first with a throat clear. “So, uh—Sae said you weren’t feeling well.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you didn’t register the way how his eyes flickered to the worn out cotton stretching across your breasts.

“I’m fine,” you muttered churlishly, glaring at your toes. “I just didn’t want to answer his call last night after what we did.”

“I thought you said nothing happened between us last night?”

You finally summoned the courage to glare at him, and was surprised to find him smirking. The change of expression made him look more handsome than you expected, your comeback drying in the back of your throat.

His inflated ego knocked you off short, and you stepped forward, your glare deepening.

“Does it make you happy to see me like this? I never knew you were such a sadistic bastard, Rin-kun.”

He bristled at your blatant attempt to rile him up by referring to his most hated honorific coming from your lips.

His appropriate punishment was leaning forward, not giving your hostility a chance to bubble when he gripped the back of your neck and pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was tender and intense, tasting of last night’s passion and today’s regrets. Rin grabbed both of your wrists which were about to land on his chest, stuffing your protests with his tongue down your mouth. Eventually, the hurricane in your soul slowed into a steady rain, and your anger lost its tenacity, giving way to a lax mouth and relaxed shoulders.

When he let go of your hands, you twined them in his hair, pulling him closer. You felt as if a part of your soul was melting into his embrace, savoured by his determined mouth slotting deeper against yours. It made you heady, the butterflies in your belly tamed to swaying wings in the breeze which made you think of summer nights and the faint smell of sugar plums from your family’s orchard.

The crease in your brow was relaxed, and Rin took this moment to drive you against the wall, a smug bastard when he parted your thighs with one knee, driving the hard muscle against your clothed pussy. You gasped into his mouth when he started to tense and flex his defined thigh, stimulating your aching clit with precise circles that had you whimpering into his mouth.

This time, the taste of sugar plums intensified when his tongue curled against the roof of your mouth. His hands were warm presses up and down your spine which curved open like a dear book for him, responding with eagerness at his touch. Rin bit down on his smirk when he felt your hips circling against his jean-clad knee, your body craving the same intense ecstasy he knew you both could fulfil through each other’s lust.

Barely giving himself time to think this through, Rin lifted you into his arms effortlessly, bringing you to your bedroom with an ease you found almost disconcerting.

The sheets which smelled like loneliness and you, were suddenly much too small for both your bodies. Sae would never visit your apartment to have sex; it was always done in his Tokyo penthouse. You felt a little nervous for a man to be surveying the state of your bedroom during such a vulnerable moment. But, Rin never commented on your bevy of plush toys in the corner, or your wrinkled bed sheet. He only had eyes for you.

Prying his lips from the juncture of your throat, he reached underneath your sleep shirt and curled his larger palms on your torso, kneading your hips slowly and inching up towards your heaving breasts. Unlike last night where everything moved in a blur of needy moans and animalistic kisses, today’s atmosphere was softer. Sweeter.

Rin pulled your worn out shirt over your head, nuzzling your bare breasts with his cheeks and moving his tongue along the curves until he reached your tight nipples. He sucked on them with a tenderness you never expected a roughened football player to have. His other hand busied itself moving down the terrain of your hips, past your mound, to slide under your shorts. You yelped ungracefully at the calloused sensation of his rough fingers parting your dampening seam.

The pull of his lips into a grin made butterflies explode in your belly, and you barely had your wits to stop him from twisting you onto your hands and knees. Rin’s intent was clear when a double of both your bodies caught your eye from the gilded mirror positioned in front of your wardrobe which gave you a clear view of his hungry stare burning holes into your surprised gaze.

“Fuck… look at you.” His words were marked by a quick slap on your right cheek, and you squeaked, nearly tumbling head first into the mattress. Rin was quick to position a pillow where your face would’ve smushed into the flat surface, his touch on the smarting skin tender this time. “Aren’t you a shameless one, huh?”

He removed your shorts swiftly, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable to the hot press of his teal stare roaming across every inch of your body. From your tight nipples to the tempting wetness in the cleft between your trembling thighs, you were like an unattainable fever dream.

Rin felt his entire body flushing warmly, his cheeks heating up when you shifted your weight from one knee to the other, gaze flitting shamefully down towards your palms. To rub your submissiveness into your own face, Rin made sure to keep most of his clothes on, only tugging his cock free from his sweatpants and smearing the weeping head across your throbbing ass cheek.

A sharp tug at your roots made you gasp loudly, and your entire head snapped up, your eyes meeting his furious ones through the mirror.

“Don’t look away.”

You felt the familiarising sensation of his thick cock inching within you, stretching out your walls with his girth and length.

Though Rin was the younger one, he was thicker than Sae, the blunt mushroom tip easily grazing your sweet spot with an effortless tilt of his hips. Your mouth fell open, a soft exhale tinged with the first stirrings of a whine that made you inwardly cringe from how needy you sounded. But, Rin didn’t comment on it. His brow was furrowed, mouth twisted into a snarl as he bullied his cock right to the hilt. Once he settled in fully, your eyes flitted to where you both were connected.

It was obscenely disgraceful how good his cock felt inside of you when he hadn’t even moved an inch. The sight of his flushed, red length starting to pump in and out of your walls entranced you; kept you focused on how he was steadily driving you down the edge.

Your mouth fell open, gasps mingled with soft sobs of his name filling the room.

Rin’s shirt was tucked in between his teeth, giving you a prime view of his abs undulating and glistening in the cloudy morning light. He didn’t give you permission to divert your eyes away from the unbearably sinful sight, your vision kept hostage by the tight grip he had on your hair.

You could only sink your nails into the sheets and watch your reflection contort her expression in pleasure and pain.

“So beautiful.” In the heat of the act, you almost didn’t hear him and you wished you didn’t; wished your stupid heart didn’t skip a traitorous beat.

Rin gripped your throat in one hand, arching your back further so the sweaty expense touched his clothed chest. This position put more pressure on your lower body, and you were close to imploding, crying out his name loud enough that you were sure the neighbours would hear.

He didn’t care for manners or noise complaints when he reached forward to rub two fingers onto your throbbing clit. Rin was the furthest from composed at the feel of your sweet walls squeezing down on him, the heat born between both your sweaty bodies enough to saturate the air with the scent of sweat and musk.

The sinful fragrance burned your nostrils, riddled your soul with guilt that was buried by the impending pleasure curling up your spine; making you see stars.

With the pressure of his fingers playing with your clit, his cock thrusting in and out of your warm and waiting walls, you dissolved into a puddle of pure ecstasy in record time. Rin savoured the second time he watched your composure breakdown with a hungry gaze, drinking in your ecstatic reactions, the deceptively pained expression on your face that was a result of this intense pleasure. It triggered his own release, and you were both once again erupting on the zenith of euphoria together.

“Rin!” your hoarse moans made his blood boil. “Rinnn—ngh…”

“Got you.” His soft murmur was lost in your hair when he caught you in his arms, leading you to rest in the crook of his body. His seed stained your inner thigh, and his scent had already bled into your skin. But, you couldn’t fathom any other option than to nuzzle your face into the dip where his neck met his shoulder, bizarrely comfortable in his presence.

Your mind was a whited out bliss of pure nothingness, your limbs feeling as weightless as marshmallows.

Rin watched as you dipped back into a calm doze, unsure why he was still in your bed. The rational part of him screamed to get up and forget that he had sought you out again; that he had defiled his brother’s girlfriend in her own home. There was a tiny spark of irrationality that told him to stay still—to enjoy this precious moment of peace he rarely found.

He didn’t think twice to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear or snake his arm around your waist to hold you closer to his side.

His phone buzzed, and Rin almost forgot the real reason he had come over in the first place.

Hey. You dead or something? Is she ok or not?

Rin was tempted to snap a picture of you in his arms, naked and sated, but he knew that it would only make Sae’s hatred for him run deeper.

Strange how a relationship marked with such disaster could be united with the unlikeliest common denominator. He gently ran his thumb over your cheek, not missing the cute furrow in your brow as you sighed and nuzzled deeper into his warmth.

Sae’s next message sounded angrier.

Rin. What happened?

He rolled his eyes and shot off a curt reply.

She’s fine. Ran a fever so I took her to the doctor. She’s asleep now so you can thank me later.

Deciding to rub salt into his older brother’s wounds at not being the one available to check up on his own girlfriend, he added:

You owe me one.

The apartment strangely lacked photos of Sae.

Rin surveyed the numerous frames adorning the walls and consoles, but didn’t find one of his older brother. He had taken a peek at your phone, and yeah, his nii-chan’s ugly mug was there, but beyond the wallpaper of you both together at an upscale cafe, the home felt empty without another presence which should’ve hallmarked your life.

He shrugged off the weirdness and walked over to the kitchen where he rummaged through your fridge, finding the ingredients he needed. As he cooked, he thought over why he was doing this in the first place. Rin’s judgement was shoddy at best, and he had piss-poor self-control (as Ego liked to term it), but this was completely out of character for him.

Under the layers of distrust, pain and anger, Rin could not deny this stark fact: he was still Sae’s little brother.

The hierarchy of age and family was important to him, and despite everything that transpired between them, Sae remained his onii-san. His elder and the one he had to defer to.

An act like this—stealing his brother’s woman—went against every creed of brotherhood out there.

Thou shalt not covet your brother’s wife.

He remembered that verse well when his parents used to host bible sessions in their old home.

Rin was a child then, and he hadn’t given much thought to such ominous words. But in this cramped kitchen where the smell of miso soup wafted through the air and an unfamiliar ladle was in his hand, he had to wonder just how much further a sinner could fall when they were already knee-deep in the muddy act.

Was there another retribution waiting for him in the wings?

Would it come in the shape of his brother’s rage?

“Oh. You didn’t have to cook for me.”

Rin snapped out from his funk, barely missing a beat when he retorted, “I’m hungry.”

“And you decided to raid my fridge? Since when did I allow you to do that?”

He turned around to find you standing by the doorway of your bedroom, in a rumpled shirt and sleep shorts, freshly showered and arms crossed in front of you. The look on your face was indecipherable, and a part of him felt like a little boy who was caught red-handed in the middle of something illegal.

His left eye twitched. “Do you want breakfast or not?”

You didn’t push him when he got this churlish, content to sit at the dining table while he moved around the kitchen, the tips of his ears glowing like hot coals when he felt your impenetrable stare digging into his back. Rin set down two bowls of rice, a plate of freshly grilled fish and some miso soup, and though his presence in your home was uninvited, it was not unwelcomed.

The both of you gave thanks and ate without another word. You kept to yourself during breakfast, chewing slowly to let the flavours meld on your tongue, eyes steadfastly on your bowl of food.

Rin barely offered any conversation, and it would’ve been awkward if you weren’t bone tired. Choppy sleep from last night coupled with the unexpected early morning tryst combined to weigh your limbs down; exhaustion caking every pore of your body.

“Sae texted me to ask how you were.”

An electrical shock was nothing compared to the sound of your boyfriend’s name coming from Rin of all people. You were reminded of the huge sin you had partaken in when icy regret wound around your lungs, constricting them till you felt like you had gone blue in the face. Your silence was exacerbated by the ticking clock on your kitchen wall.

Rin set his chopsticks down with a crisp click. “I didn’t tell him about us, if that is what you were worried about.”

It made you weary how you were quick to shake your head to soothe his discomfort.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to think about this, Rin. I’m confused.”

“How about starting with the fact that you’re not happy with my brother?”

You were barely fazed with his harsh questions which cut to the heart of the matter sharper than any yanagiba blade could. Rin’s bluntness which would shock anyone, was becoming a quirk you were acquainted with and did not take it to heart, unlike how you did the first time you met him.

Was it only a week ago when he professed you were better than his brother? And now you were both sitting barely inches apart, steeped in a tense silence born out of both dread and desire.

If what Rin said made him a hypocrite, you were a blasphemer for telling him how much you adored Itoshi Sae when you willingly succumbed to his seduction the moment your lover was out of the way. The food he made for you two churned heavily in your stomach, and you fell into a disquiet that prodded on his impatience.

“Well?”

Licking your dry lips, you took a deep breath. “Sae… will always have football. I don’t think I have to tell you what he’s like for you to understand, Rin. But, he’s barely around.” You got defensive. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love him! I just… wish he could be here for me.”

Rin guessed as much. However, that didn’t explain the lack of photos in the apartment.

“He hasn’t made our relationship official yet.” This final piece of the confusing puzzle fell in place and opened his understanding fully to your grievances. “We’re almost reaching the one year mark and he wouldn’t even post a picture of me, or come over to my place in case paparazzi catch on. I—”

Rin’s mouth went dry when you started to tear up. The silence stretched on, broken by your wet sniffles. Imperceptibly, he handed you a crumpled tissue and you nodded in thanks, taking it to dab your eyes. Another shaky breath, and you continued with your defence.

“I know you think I wanted this to happen—that I’m a gold digger—but, I’m not. I love your brother, Rin. I… I think I did. I dunno. I’m just so confused now.”

The younger Itoshi barely said a word in, letting you relieve yourself of these harsh feelings. He didn’t offer comfort or any blinding, half-assed gesture to take advantage of your vulnerable state. All he did was listen.

Peeling your watery stare onto him, you chuckled brokenly. “Go on, then. I know you’re testing me and I’ve failed. If you tell Sae, I wouldn’t stop you. I tapped out of this relationship months ago and neither of us know how to save it.”

“Talk to him, then.”

Rin’s deep voice was barely above a whisper. You shrugged. “I could, but that would make me look selfish. I’ll be the one to stop his dreams—to keep him grounded when he deserves to fly. I think that wouldn’t be fair for him… or you.”

He arched a brow, unsure why you decided to include him in the mix.

You clarified it with a thick chuckle. “I know you adore him, Rin. He’s your nii-chan. If his dreams are crushed, you would be demotivated, too.”

Your words set a storm racing in his heart, and the outside world echoed a similar bleakness when the clouds broke and rain fell in thick pelts down your windows. A white noise filled the silence between you two, and you didn't dare to break it, not when Rin looked like he was a million miles away.

“Why don’t you break up with him?”

The guilt unwrapped itself from your lungs and lodged somewhere deep in your ribs, piercing like a knife. You struggled to school your features into nonchalance, but was betrayed by your stupid emotions scrawled across your devastated expression for the entire world to see.

“I… it would hurt me.”

She’s still in love with him.

Rin didn’t know what came over him. He stood up suddenly, teal irises glacial with indifference.

“I never knew someone this selfish could exist,” he began, “but you changed my mind on such a feat.” He knew he was being cruel—knew he was partly to be blamed. The irrational anger clawing at his throat, however, fogged his mind to how he was unfairly hurting you. “You’re playing with two brothers and you can’t decide which one you want? You’re just going to string Sae along like he’s some lukewarm loser?”

Shocked, you blinked a few times to take in his accusation. “Rin, I… that’s not my intention—”

“It’s simple, really.” His emotions were out of control, scattering everywhere like noxious fumes that had a chokehold on his rationale. “Me or him. I thought I could change your mind, but you’re a greedy whore who wants everything she can’t have.”

Tears sprang into your lash line, and you hiccuped back a sob. “R-Rin, that’s not true—”

He pushed his chair back, head bowed low. The fall of his hair hid his eyes from your scrutiny, and you held back the impulse to stand and wrap your arms around his waist. You sensed he would push you away if you pulled a stunt like that on him now.

“I know I’m younger than him. I know I may not be as established of a football player as he is, but I’m not someone who will be pulled around. I’ve made my intentions clear, so either be an honourable person and do the same, or I’ll break the news to him that his own girlfriend can’t make up her mind as to whether she still loves him or not.”

No, your heart screamed, echoed by the tears chasing down your cheeks. No, he can’t be serious.

But, Rin didn’t give a single second to reconsider. He turned on his heel, reached for his jacket and slammed the door on his way out of your apartment hard enough to shake the walls.

Leaving you for the second time to contend with the guilt eating you up alive right where you sat.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated <33

#rin itoshi x reader #itoshi sae angst #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi rin smut #itoshi rin x reader #rin angst #blue lock smut #blue lock angst #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk angst #blue lock rin #sae blue lock #series: family affairs #🦢 writes

572 notes · View notes

toomuchracket · 1 year ago

Text

elope with me (ross x reader fluff)

day 5 of promptober75!! ross and shy gf have some mad realisations in the backseat of birthday party!matty's car on the way to edinburgh. that sounds dirty but actually this is the fluffiest thing of all time lol. i've missed writing for ross, and i really hope you guys like this as much as i do <3

"and then she says, and this is no word of a lie, that she thinks the cannibalism is romantic. romantic!"

matty's tone is incredulous, and so is his face, visible in the rearview mirror. the car swerves slightly as he looks back at you and ross, both of you giggling in the backseat at your friend and his impassioned rant against some film he'd watched recently.

his fiancée lightly slaps his arm. "stop bitching about me and keep your eyes on the road, please! honestly. sorry, guys."

you laugh as she turns to you and rolls her eyes, before her attention is diverted by matty picking up her hand and kissing it in wordless apology. ross squeezes your own hand and winks at you, letting the peaceful silence linger for a second before he speaks again. "so do you recommend the film, then?"

"yes!"

"absolutely fucking not."

"it's genuinely a good film, ross, it's not matty's fault he's too much of a coward to enjoy it," your friend glares at matty, then turns to lock eyes with you. "you actually might like it, babe. it reminded me of that ethel cain song you told me to listen to."

"oh, strangers?" you say, straightening up in your seat. "yeah, that's romantically cannibalistic, i s'pose. i might give it a watch once we're home."

"christ, not you as well, babe," matty groans, lightly thumping his head off the steering wheel. "i thought you were sane."

ross laughs. "nah, she's just so quiet that she lulls you into a false sense of security, before she reveals her weirdo tendencies," he says cheekily, snuggling into you as your cheeks heat up. "what's that museum you want to go to, again?"

"the surgeons' hall."

"that's the one. brains in jars, and weird shit like that," ross shudders. "creepy."

"i'm cool not going, if you don't want to," you say meekly. "i just don't know the city, s'all, so i don't fancy going alone in case i get lost. streets on top of other streets and all that."

ross opens his mouth, but matty's fiancée gets there first. "no, i'll go with you, lovely! we could make an afternoon of it, get a drink afterwards. or food, if we can stomach it."

the relief on ross's face is so obvious it almost makes you laugh.

you smile at your friend. "if you're not too tired after your event, absolutely. thank you for offering, babe."

"yeah, thanks indeed," ross grins. he catches his best friend's eye in the rearview mirror. "while the girls are off being weird… pub?"

matty nods. "pub."

"i would also like to go to the pub, though," his fiancée interjects. "s'been too long since i had a drink in a good scottish one. we could meet you after our museum trip, couldn't we, babe?"

"that sounds good," you reply. "i take it you're excited to be back in edinburgh, then? you spent some time here before you moved to london, didn't you?"

"babe, you have no idea how much i'm looking forward to it," your friend sighs. "i'm kinda nervous, though. the book festival is a big deal. and i'm worried nobody will ask me any questions at my talk."

ross scoffs. "oh please, you have more fans than we do - don't deny it, matty, you know i'm right. you'll be fighting off people trying to ask you stuff, mate."

"yeah, it'll be great!" you add, smiling warmly.

she smiles just as warmly in return. "well, i hope you're right. maybe you'd better prepare a question, though, just in case no one else wants to talk."

your eyes widen, and you shake your head. "i love you, but there's no way i'm talking in public."

"i'll do it," comes the voice from the driver's seat.

everyone else in the car rolls their eyes. "anything to pull focus," ross mutters under his breath.

matty hears him, though. "oh, shut up, ross. anyway," he clears his throat. "we're about to cross the border, into the land of the soundest people on the fucking planet."

ross cheers when he sees the "welcome to scotland" roadsign, which makes you all laugh. "you know, i always forget that gretna is literally right on the other side of the border."

you look out of the window. sure enough, you're already driving past houses and shops and little grey stone buildings. "this is the place where people come to get married, right? why is that?"

"oh, history lecture incoming," matty laughs - again, his fiancée smacks him on the arm. "go on, rass."

ross rolls his eyes, but turns in his seat to face you. the warmth in those deep brown eyes of his is so distracting, but you're interested in the history of the place, so you try your best to focus on your boyfriend's words as best you can. "short version is that in the 1750s, you couldn't get married in england or wales without parental consent if you were under 21, but that rule didn't apply in scotland, so people used to sneak off and get married here because it was right across the border. and as long as there were two witnesses, practically anyone could officiate - loads of the blacksmiths performed ceremonies at their anvils, probably because couples needed to get wedding rings somewhere, and now every wedding that takes place in any venue here is done over an anvil. obviously laws are different now, but people still flock to gretna for quick, almost clandestine marriages - total opposite of what the pair of clowns in the front seat have got planned, basically."

"oh, shush, it'll be beautiful. i'm excited," you say, smiling at your friends before turning to gaze out at the town. "and that's interesting, that story. it's also kind of beautiful, i think, the urgency of it all. loving someone so much that you just run away together and get married as soon as you can, no circumstance, no fuss, just love compelling you."

even though you're not looking at anyone as you talk about love and marriage, you find your thoughts focusing on a familiar pair of dark brown eyes, a soft smile, dimpled cheeks, strong arms that feel like home. suddenly a little bit lightheaded, you open your window slightly and turn back to face the rest of the now-silent car's occupants, and immediately wish you hadn't.

ross and your friend have turned to look at you directly, and matty's peering at you through the rearview mirror; all three of them are smiling, but the lack of response sends you into panic mode.

cheeks aflame and heart racing, you start speaking again, far more frantically than before. "i didn't mean to offend the two of you in saying that, by the way, i know you guys are so in love and it's so sweet to see because i love you and i love seeing you happy, and your wedding is going to be perfect and so romantic and i'm so touched that you asked me to be a part of it, and as much as i find the urgency of a gretna wedding romantic i also think it's very sensible to plan the day out in advance because obviously it's such a huge deal, marriage, and i do see the appeal in marrying surrounded by everyone you like and love, i just don't know that it would be for me, but like i said i think your day will be beautiful and-"

"love, slow down, breathe," ross takes your hand in his, rubbing slow circles into your palm - your breathing and heart rate both begin to regulate merely because of his touch. "nobody's offended."

you look nervously toward the front seat. "you're sure?"

"not offended in the slightest, babe," matty says, in the gentle tone you've learned he reserves for the people he loves most in the world. "my girl and i just like showing off."

"speak for yourself, freak," his fiancée scoffs, but her face softens as she looks at him. "nah, it's not about showing off, for me. i just didn't think that true love - like proper romantic fairytale stuff - existed in my world until i met matty. and i want our wedding to reflect that."

your heart glows for them. "that's beautiful."

she shrugs. "it's just my experience. what's yours, if you don't mind me asking? i love the way you two are with each other. i'd love to know how you describe it."

"well, i'm nowhere near as eloquent as you, but i'll try," you say. but the words come easy - all you have to do is look at ross, and your love for him becomes too much to keep to yourself. "for me… it's all about comfort, safety, dependability. i know some of the great love stories have their drastic peaks and troughs, and love can drive you absolutely insane, but that's not the case for us. that's not what i want, or need. i need somebody who shows up for me consistently, who makes me feel secure enough to be more myself, who loves me exactly the same way every day. ross does that for me so effortlessly without ever being boring; there are always new things to learn about him. and i hope he feels the same way about me. it's a quiet kind of love, i think, but it's definitely deep, and true."

you smile bashfully at your boyfriend, who leans forward as far as his seatbelt allows to kiss you softly. "yeah, i think you hit the nail on the head with that description, darling," he murmurs, thumb gently caressing your warm cheek. "just you and i in our own little world."

your tender moment is interrupted by sniffling from the front seat. "for goodness' sake," matty says, wiping his eyes. "i can't believe the pair of you are making me cry in my own car. illegal move."

"shhhh, baby," his fiancée - also teary, you notice - coos, ruffling his hair. she leans over her own arm to grin at you and ross. "you two are so lovely, you know that? coming here with us to support me, and sharing your thoughts like that. i love you, i love your love, and i love that we're all feeling the love today. it's sweet."

"yeah, it is," ross agrees. you snuggle into him as best you can, breathing in the cologne and fabric softener scent of his hoodie and soaking up his warmth like he's the sun. it's not an inaccurate metaphor, actually - he is the centre of your universe, after all. "are you tired, my love?"

"little bit."

"here," ross quickly unfastens your seatbelt and pulls you into the middle seat, thus pulling you closer to him. he gently makes sure you have your new seatbelt on, before wrapping an arm around you and repositioning you against his chest. "go to sleep, darling, we still have a bit of time left in the car."

"will you wake me up when we get into the pretty part of edinburgh?"

ross smiles down at you, so tenderly you could cry. "course i will."

you smile back, eyelids already growing heavy. "alright."

sleep comes easy to you, cosied up safely in ross's arms. as always, he's the subject of your dreams, but the plot of this particular one is a new one to you. well, not totally. you've dreamt of marrying ross before, but the setting has never been so hyper-specific, or recognisable - little stone grey buildings, your hand and his both adorned with wedding rings, clasped together over an anvil, him in a kilt, you in a long white dress, your friends from the front seat of the car smiling and crying happily in the background.

the dream permeates your brain from that point on, even in your waking hours, too. you aren't sure whether it's the abundance of tartan dotted around the royal mile making you think of dream-ross's wedding kilt, or the grey façades of the buildings in the old town making you think of the far less elaborate ones in gretna, or if it's just ross's hand in your own as you wander around the city making you think of wedding rings, but you can't get the thought about running off to gretna with him out of your mind.

it's funny, you think; you've only spoken about marriage enough to know that it's something you both want at some point, so your brain's constant defaulting to thoughts of eloping, of all things, should utterly terrify you. but like everything else in your relationship with ross, it feels easy, and natural, and right. the thing that scares you the most, actually, is how best to bring it up to your boyfriend.

as it turns out, though, you don't even have to. because, on your final night in edinburgh, ross mentions it first.

it happens after dinner, after drinks, after a singalong in the pub with the trad folk band playing songs none of you knew. you'd laughed and smiled until your cheeks hurt, and danced until your feet did too. ross carried you the whole way back to the hotel - no mean feat, considering he had to go at the same pace as an overly-tipsy matty and his wife-to-be - and he hasn't really let go of you since; not in the quick shower you took to rid yourself of "pub smell" and makeup, not while you brushed your teeth, and not in bed, where he's curled around you protectively as you lie on your side.

he's straight to the point, as usual, however. "you've been thinking about us eloping in gretna, haven't you?"

if you were any less intoxicated, you would panic. instead, you roll over lazily to face him, smiling shyly. "how could you tell?"

"your eyes lingered far longer they usually would on the window of that jewellers near victoria street," ross smiles, reaching to brush a stray bit of hair from your face. "that, and when you let me use your phone to google taxi numbers the other night i saw 'gretna marriage license rules' in your recent searches."

"you're very perceptive, macdonald."

"i try. so… what are the rules?"

"well," you begin, thinking back to your findings. "you have to apply for one 29 days before you want to get married, so the registrars can do all their checks."

"29 days?"

"yeah."

ross grins. "well, i've waited this long. what's another month?"

"really? you want to elope, too?" your breath catches in your throat as you speak - out of sheer joy, though, not fear.

"love, if we could've, i'd have married you on the way home tomorrow," ross says softly. "i mean, we have witnesses - who i think we should ask to come back up with us again next month, by the way - and semi-nice outfits, and i could get us rings easy. what else do we need?"

"you're right, we're ready," you giggle. "and i agree with you about the witnesses. if only to see matty weep when we say i do, honestly."

"oh, he'll be a mess," ross snorts. he brings your hand to his lips. "so it's settled, then? we're doing this?"

you lean forward to kiss him - softly, but not without an undercurrent of love and passion and desire. "yeah, we're doing this. one month, sweetheart, and i'm officially yours forever."

"looking forward to it, my love."

#mads does writing #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald x reader #ross x reader #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #shy gf #promptober75 #mads muses

157 notes · View notes

valentinafoxr · 10 days ago

Text

Illustrhater was good

I had some time to let my thoughts marinate and watched the episode again, and I would say we're off to a good start! Some things I liked or noticed:

What it is with Lila's notebooks in the opening scene. Is she writing a novel. Is all of this just a ploy to get clout on ao3

Love love LOVE Marinette's room and all the little details - her room has always been so cool, but I feel like it's elevated by the redesign. She has a Molly Ringwald-Teen Movie Bedroom-Windowsill now ❤

RE: The intro - I DO like that they kept the song! Would've been very jarring to have a new tune, but I feel like keeping the music wraps it up really nicely. Love the Adrinette cuteness and OUGH OUGH OUGH the shot with Gabriel in the background. Sinister, I love it. I won't lie, I WILL miss the shot that's now the LadyNoir fist bump and Adrinette kiss when it used to be Chat Noir going in for a kiss and then the two of them tumbling over each other, mostly because it used to be the essence of the Lovesquare and thus the show. I totally get though why they had to change it up -different premise with Adrinette in a relationship and all- and the way the still kept the switcheroo was nicely done.

on, and they kept the black cat in the intro. points for that.

Marinette being a disaster is so, so comforting to me. Yes, give us the statistics about Hawkmoth, order shrimp macarons, hide your face in your tiny purse girl, I love you!!!! And her cat ear slippers <3

I need a moment to gush about the new animation, because, DAMN. It's both the small details (the pattern and texture of Alya's glasses) and and the scenery (Paris actually looking like a populated city with a beautiful variety of both people and unique buildings????). Idk it's just really, really nice. The character models are mostly an upgrade and look a tad older while still keeping the original vibe. The expressions are also better, especially for the supporting cast. The lighting is gorgeous! AND THE AKUMATIZATIONS!!!! HELLO!!! THEY LOOK SO COOL

Adrien is a sad exception to my praise but I think the less we talk about it the faster we will all collectively get used to it lol

I also think the direction and camera work has gotten a lot better - the fighting scenes looked cool and we got interesting camera angles.

The integration of 2D animation is neat! The chibis are very cute and serve a purpose. I do hope they keep adding 2D elements and not just as illustrations as they used to do in former seasons. I mean, this is such a fun shot:

Storywise it was a decent episode! not much to say here tbh, I liked the DJ Wifi sideplot (and THEM overall, bestest couple).

Loooooved the trash collecting scene, reminded me of Gang of Secrets Ladynoir after their break-ups. I need them to talk/gossip to each other about their relationship(s) in every episode hehe. I do miss flirty Ladynoir but seeing them again is auauauuaghhh. Adrien seeing Ladybug out and about and he's smiling!!!!!!!!!! I love Ladynoir so much

We didn't get much about Adrien's situation from this (apart from the fact that he's allowed to leave the house lol) but the sadness in his eyes…. and him taking the blame for Adrinette's communication issues…. my sweet, sweet boy 🙁

Referring back to this post - yeah, that's Lila/Cerise/Iris in the café, drinking a diabolo menthe (Diabolo -> diabolos in Greek: slanderous, libellous -> Girliepop is ready to stir up things). She's gonna be wherever Marinette goes, causing trouble, I assume.

things I'm curious about:

the timeline: is it still summer vacation? I would assume so, since Marinette and Alya have yet another sleepover and they're meeting the boys in the morning (?). School probably hasn't started yet this season.

Kagami and Marinette: Their (very, very brief) interaction seemed normal. I expected Kagami to be conflicted due to their conversation in the London Special, tbh, but then again, it was a very brief interaction. We'll see.

Carapace using shelter twice in one battle: Did all heroes "grow up"? Did it happen on-screen in episode 1 or should we just assume they all have unlimited powers?

the Kwagatama: I mean, we don't need to talk about the obvious implication (memory loss, Tales-of-LB-and-CN-theory), but I'm kinda wondering about other possible scenarios this may lead to.

And oh. The saved cat got an animation upgrade. Can’t wait to see Baby August in the new animation style lol

#this took way too long to write up but I needed to sum it all up lol #ml illustrhater #illustrhater spoilers #ml #ml season 6 #ml s6 #ml s6 spoilers #ml season 6 spoilers #miraculous spoilers

17 notes · View notes

reasonsmandy · 1 year ago

Text

A letter?

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hi!!! Love your writing so much!! Not sure if you’re still doing requests lol, butttt I have a really specific one so if you’d be able to do this I’d like actually die omg. Okay so I’m a fashion student from LA and I was thinking, the reader is like basically siblings with billy and Graham, (her dad and their mom started dating when they were kids so they were practically raised together) but she’s closest with Eddie in particular. They’re best friends. They’ve basically been attached at the hip since they were kids. They’re both secretly harboring feelings for each other and everyone knows it but themselves. She’s been there for them since the band started, like Camilla, making them outfits for gigs and stuff. and Eddie even takes her to prom when her date ends up being a jerk to her. Butttt the reader ends up moving to LA to go to fashion school (maybe eventually she can be their costume designer for the aurora tour 🙏) and Eddie slowly stops talking to her god knows why. Fast forward- The band moves out to LA and they stay with her until they’re stable enough to be out on their own. The tension is super high between her and Eddie and EVERYONE notices. Super Angsty. Ends in fluff and love confessions 🫶 maybe angry billy lol. AGAIN THANK YOU!!! I know that was super complicated. YOUR WRITING AND EDITS ARE AMAZINGGGG !!

✧.* you're reading part one, here's the sequel — You matter to me

✧.* summary — You and Eddie were a story in the making, which you were sure had been finished after the way you left. But now with your reunion, perhaps there is a reticence.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 3.2k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I love this ask! And I'm working on part two for it already. Please, lmk what you guys think of this back and forth writing dynamics.

You drop your keys into the jar that was on the table next to the door, then hang your coat on the hanger as you try to speed up the process to finally rest from a long day. The apartment was dark and you didn't bother turning on all the lights, contenting yourself with just the orange light from the kitchen, you went to the counter, checking the letters you had received and also collecting some newspapers from the previous days to throw away.

Days like these make you miss the constant movement and excitement that your life in Pittsburgh contained, your thoughts from time to time hovered over delicious memories that you, whether or not you wanted to have a taste of once again. It had been a few months since studying fashion had brought you to LA, and even if you were satisfied with several friends and studying what you loved, there was a huge lack of what remained there.

With the feeling of nostalgia tugging at the pit of your stomach, you head to your phone to call the number you used to answer. At the end of the line you hear three rings before the hiss and finally a voice.

“Hello?” The unexpected voice makes you wonder if you had the wrong number.

“Uh, I'm looking for Mrs Dunne?” Your voice was tired, at this point you just wanted to kill the longing.

“Y/N?” You hear the questioning after a silence, and recognizing the voice makes the butterflies in your stomach rise.

“Yeah Eddie, it's me.” You say in a breath, and once again you receive silence.

“Y/N my dear, how is everything going there?” You try to avoid the feeling of sadness about what had happened, swallowing hard.

“Everything good, and things there?” You are amazed at how natural your voice sounds.

“It's actually a bit chaotic, the boys are packing everything up in a hurry to move.” She says in a nervous laugh.

“Move? What do you mean?” You try to remember having received this information before, but you can't find it.

“Didn't you receive my letter? They will try to grow the band in LA, you might even meet up. Isn't it great? Your brothers miss you.” You didn't know if you believed the last sentence, at least not in the plural. Graham and you talked sometimes, but you and Billy hadn't talked since your move.

“That's awesome! I'm happy to hear that.” You indeed were, but you couldn't help but feel the confusion of why all this was happening now.

…

You have a vivid memory of sitting on the floor of Graham's room as he murmured about how unfair life was, and at that point you tried your best to help your half brother with any advice you came up with. Your face was resting on the bed when you and he looked at the door when you heard Billy knock three times, indicating that he was going to come in. They were your brothers since you were two years old, when your father married the boys' mother you grew up together in that house mostly without any problems.

They were kind to you, they always were, even though Billy was more distant. You knew someone that he was marked by something that you weren't here to witness, but in a way you understood how much a parent was missed.

The older Dunne sits on the edge of the bed, watching his older brother frustrated, you notice that he holds back his laughter feeling the nostalgia of something that perhaps he has already been through. You thought about whether you should go out and leave them alone, but you figured that if you stayed quiet it wouldn't get in the way.

“They'll be other girls.” Billy tries to comfort him, Graham for the first time stops staring at the ceiling to look at his brother.

“And how'd you know that?” You watch them talking and try your best to go unnoticed.

Billy looks at you, his gaze urgently asking you to help him with this.

“Because you know how to play the guitar" Your voice barely comes out, since you hadn't spoken for so long. Your older brother looks at you with a subtle look of 'what the fuck?'. You shrug, completing the sentence. “What? I heard it's something girls like.”

Graham lets out a muffled laugh and you're happy to have made him laugh, Billy frowns and you can see a bit of jealousy there which makes you smile.

“And besides.” Billy continues, looking at Graham again. “You’re fourteen years old!”

You laugh and your brothers accompany you. It's a comforting memory, one of the moments when you felt welcomed and loved.

However, from that day onwards Graham's obsession with having a band was born. You thought it was a good idea, after all, you spent the afternoon idly after all your homework was done, and when you sat down to design different types of clothes and sometimes sewing something with Mrs. Dunne Graham hovered around making sounds of boredom, you knew that would be good to entertain him.

He had invited his best friends, who you had been attending since you had moved in at the Dunne house. You can vividly remember the morning you were woken up by the thunderous sound of drums coming from downstairs, you curse and mumble, getting up to find out what it was about.

When you get to the bottom of the stairs, you come face to face with Warren trying to arrange his drum kit in the living room of your house, you blink a few times trying to shake off the sleep that still resides within you, Eddie's figure appears soon after with his guitar hanging around his neck. He smiles at you and you give him an even wider one.

“Does Mrs Dunne know what you guys are doing here?” You say in a laugh, Warren turns to Eddie for that answer, his messy curls reaching his eyes.

“I guess so…” Roundtree answers you, moving closer to you. And your body demonstrates a fact that you had hidden from your brother: the girl who was attracted to men who played guitar was you, and he was the boy you felt attracted to. “Do you know where Graham is, sunshine?”

Your legs shake at the nickname that gradually became common coming from him, you shake your head, spending as much time as possible observing Roundtree closely. “I literally just woke up. But assuming that you guys already looked for him in his room, you should try the garage.”

“On it!” Warren exclaims, heading towards the garage but not before winking at Eddie who rolls his eyes.

You frown, and are slowly eroded by the silence that surrounds you and Roundtree. He clears his throat “I think they made omelets, if I were you I'd run before Chuck finds out.”

“Would you like to join me?” You ask in a whisper, afraid of the answer. "I mean, if I'm not busy with all this.” You gesture to the instruments piled up on the couch and Rojas' drums.

“I'd love that.” He smiles, leaving you with the pleasant nervousness of falling in love.

…

Now the orange light wasn't enough to make you see your surroundings without your eyes hurting, so getting rid of the vivid memory you decide to immerse your thoughts in what you loved the most ‘create clothes’. Recently you were obsessed with a specific style you had noticed on the streets of the city, and the way women in particular looked most beautiful in the prints you had in mind, your goal now was to create a line to present in the same style and this had involved your last thoughts and efforts in the last few days.

You didn't know how to shake off the bittersweet feeling of having your childhood experiences in the same city, it was good when it came to homesickness, but you couldn't shake off the thought that would always go to Eddie Roundtree. After all, even after so long you couldn't shake the love that arose in your chest when his face came back to memory.

You smile when you remember that innocent and calm love that always surrounded you two, the first of so many things for each other, your firsts were his and his were yours. And even though he seemed to try, distance wouldn't erase that, but of course, the thought that he wanted to delete such memories hurt.

Of course, you weren't sure about that, you had no way of knowing if he actually wanted to erase everything you lived through since you didn't speak to each other anymore. But it was customary for you to always expect the worst so as not to be disappointed if it turns out to be true.

…

You accompanied your brothers to band practice with your sketchbook in hand, with no other plans for the afternoon other than watching them play while using the band and their inspirational styles. You guys liked the idea that in the future you would be successful as a fashion designer and they would be the biggest band in the world with you making every outfit they would wear off and on stage.

“Hey Y/N, glad you're joining us!” Chuck says as he opens the garage door for you to enter, you smile.

“Thanks for having me.” You thank him, already taking your place on the ottoman he used to leave for you there. "Cami, You came!" You say running towards your good friend, and now, sister-in-law.

“But of course, I wasn't going to miss a preview of your prom show.” She says hugging you back, then looking at the boys.

“Yeah, about that…” Your voice makes all the boys look at you scared. "No! Oh sorry, now that I noticed what you could understand, What I meant was that I don't even know if I'm going.”

“What? Why?” Warren asks, twirling one of the drumsticks in your left hand.

“I thought you were looking forward to it.” Graham adds, intrigued along with concerned.

“She was, what happened sunshine?” Eddie asks, you could see he was very confused.

“I just don't want to be alone, you all already have dates." You try to explain, they look at you intently. "And my friends too, so..."

“I thought you liked our dates." Chuck says, trying to tell you that you would still have their company.

“Yeah, and besides, you know Amanda is looking forward to meeting you.” Rojas says, referring to his date and new girlfriend.

Eddie didn't say anything, but you feel his gaze on you the entire time, which makes you avoid his gaze.

“Are you being serious?” Billy asks, his tone sharp as usual. You shrug. “I thought that Jamie guy was going with you." You can see he's holding himself back from rolling his eyes, and Eddie stops looking at you to look at him.

“Jamie?” Warren asks what everyone was wanting. "Really?”

“You said that it was a bad idea.” You say angrily to Billy, because he was acting like he wasn't partly to blame for this.

“Yes, but if you're going to complain about going alone, you'd better accept the invitation." You suck in a breath, and Billy triggers a deafening silence in the room.

“I'm going out for a walk.” You say leaving, if you let no one stop you or ask you to stay.

“Really bro?” You hear Rojas' voice as it fades out as you move away.

You don't know how long you spent kicking pebbles on the sidewalk outside your house, slowly becoming grateful that your house wasn't so far from Chuck's and that soon you were on your own. You feel the presence of someone approaching, and decide not to look at whoever it was, it was still daytime and you didn't feel threatened by being alone on the street.

“Billy is a dick!” Roundtree speaks, sitting next to you, and you laugh melancholically. “I'm sorry about him, you know that if you don't want you, you don't have to do anything, right?”

You nod, still looking ahead and not at him. And that's why you don't notice how nervous he was, thinking minutely about his next words and how to do it. He opens his mouth and closes it without saying anything a couple of times before getting straight to the point.

“Go with me.” That's all he says, and you look at him with a frown.

“Is this a joke?” You start to get irritated just by this prospect, he holds your thigh so you don't get up.

“No.” He makes it clear, and you try to understand what the hell was going on. “I don't have a date.”

“But you said…”

“Let me be clearer." He says, holding back a laugh. "I don't have a date anymore.”

“You didn't have to do that." You say, with a bittersweet feeling of happiness.

“I wanted to, and besides, you know my times with you are always amazing.” You feel your cheeks burn as your smile widens. "So, what do you say?”

“Of course, I'd love to go with you." You hug him, feeling your body fill with butterflies. "Thank you, really.”

“I'll pick you up at eight?" He says, seeing you get up to go to your house.

“But don't you go early to check the sound?" You say holding back a smile.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.” He says scratching the back of his head. “Then...”

“We can meet at Chuck's.” You say, completing his reasoning.

…

You take a deep breath before you knock on the door, automatically holding your folder with your drawings close to your chest, as if that would protect them from any judgment you theorized could happen.

When the wooden object opens, you can't contain your smile, and open your arms to welcome your brother in a hug. He squeezes you with longing and happiness, in the corner of your eyes you can see the rest of the band smiling when they look at you. When breaking away from the hug, everyone in the band gets their due "hi" and "I missed you!" of you, as soon as you finish talking to Karen and getting to know her you turn to Roundtree.

“Hey.” You say in a low voice, as if anything that involved you and Eddie was a secret. Perhaps a force of habit.

“Hello Y/N” His voice comes out harshly, something you hadn't imagined coming from your reunion.

“Good to see you.” By this time, you were feeling the tension building up. “Look, maybe we should talk about…”

“I don't think that's a great idea.” He cuts you off, avoiding looking deep into your eyes.

“Oye Eddie, check out this vest that I brought!” Rojas' voice calls him, and you try to ignore the tightness in your chest.

“I'll see you around.” He says, walking over to the curly-haired drummer.

“Everything alright, honey?” Camila's voice makes you jump in fright, but when you come face to face with her, your body melts.

You hug her immediately, gradually feeling calmer. "I'm so glad you're here, you have no idea”

She notices your gaze fixed on Eddie when you leave the hug, and knows (more than anyone) what that gaze held. All the history you had since that prom, which was put on hiatus due to the reticence caused by your departure.

“So you and Eddie?” She asks, looking concerned.

“I fear that's not even a thing anymore.” You swallow your upset, and put into practice what brought you there. “Hey y'all, gather here! I can't wait to show you what I came up with since I knew you were coming.”

“You know we don't even have a record company yet, right?” Billy asks, but not in a harsh, rude tone. But in fact, genuinely curious.

“I know, but you wouldn't come here if you didn't believe you were going to wear these clothes on stage one day." You smile, causing your brother to do the same. “So shut up and come and see it.”

You see they laugh with you, not noticing that Eddie was holding his.

…

Your hands shook as you positioned the letter in front of your boyfriend, if you could call him that. For everyone, Eddie had only done you a favor on the day of the prom, but in reality you had been sneaking out ever since.

The vivid memory of the cold wind hitting your skin took you to that night, ‘The Dunne brothers�� had already made the show a while ago and he didn't take long to grab your hand and guided you to the roof. You had no idea if they were allowed to be there, but fuck it, you had finished school and nothing would be important after that night.

You sat together eating some food that you had brought, and the comfortable silence hovered between you. You feel his gaze on you, and you slowly gain the courage to say what you've been thinking since that day began.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “For doing this with me.”

“Are you kidding?” He says between a laugh. "I always have a blast with you. And to be honest, I kinda want this to last forever.”

“Yeah me too.” You look deep into his eyes, and see him get closer, interspersing his gaze between your lips and your eyes.

It stops when you are inches close, You feel his breathing and his intense gaze, little by little the party music fades away, being replaced by the beat of his heart.

“Why did you stop?” You whisper, looking now at his lips.

“Your brothers are going to kill me." He says jokingly, making you smile. “But I never cared what they thought anyway.”

One of his hands goes up to your cheeks, caressing your skin before kissing your lips. You didn't know what an explosion it would be like when it happened, but your body surrendered to it every second, and since then, you two haven't been able to put an end to it. And honestly, you didn't even want to.

Eddie takes the letter in hand, knowing that your nervousness probably indicated something. He wasn't angry, but disappointed, and it broke your heart.

“You were going to leave me a letter?” He speaks in disbelief, a few tears appearing in his eyes.

“Babe, let me explain…” You say but he interrupts you.

“You were going to leave, and I was going to be the last to know…” Your voice was choked, and you felt your tears running down your cheeks. "Damn sunshine, a fucking letter?!”

“I couldn't find the right time to tell you. " You say taking his hands, sitting next to him. "I didn't want to upset you…”

“Did you really think I was going to be upset?" He looked hurt by it all, and you wanted to disappear. "That I would be upset watching my girlfriend achieve her dream?"

“When you put it like that, well.” You close your mouth before finishing your thought.

“I wish you the best." He stands up, and you watch him closely. “You will rock, I'm sure.”

“Where are you going?” You say through tears, and he turns so you don't see his.

“I need some air. " He says, opening the door, and leaving.

You didn't see him in the days after, and on the day you were all packed to leave… he left you a letter.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

-> Part two will be out soon!

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

taglist: @jaidaschampagneproblems @boredshit-shadow @warrenrojaswife @o1iv3 @hopelessromantic727 @eddiesaurora

112 notes · View notes

sokovianheadtilt · 2 years ago

Text

Dancing In The Dark

Bucky Barnes x black!reader

Summary: Y/N is 6 months pregnant, Bucky finds her in the kitchen at 3am indulging in her slightly odd cravings

Warnings: Pure fluff

A/N: Just realized I haven’t added anything to the My Little Love universe since last June…my bad y’all I’m gonna be more consistent I swear :) also, HAPPY PRIDE🏳️‍🌈 (p.s., there’s one line in here that may seem like a taylor swift reference but it’s not, I just thought it was cute lol)

Word Count: 844

SERIES MASTERLIST

Y/N glanced over at the clock sitting on her bedside table, the red glowing numbers reading 3:17am. She sighed and slowly got out of bed, rubbing her large belly that’s housing her two twin girls. When her and Bucky first found out, he was ecstatic that his family was growing at a faster pace, you’ve always wanted twins and now your dream is coming true. The only downside was that your precious angels gave you the weirdest cravings at the most unpredictable times, like right at this moment in the middle of the night.

Y/N slowly got out of bed, looking over at Bucky to make sure he was still sleeping. You hated waking him up, it always made you feel guilty. You quietly made your way downstairs and looked in the fridge before finding what you wanted, pickles and mustard. You grabbed the items and went to sit at the kitchen table before opening the door, pouring some mustard onto it and took a bite. You let out a soft moan at the seemingly delicious taste and kept eating.

You were on your third pickle before hearing footsteps coming down the stairs. Glancing up, you saw Bucky walking over to you with a sleepy smile.

“Again sweetheart? Come on, you know my body knows when you’re not laying next to me” he chuckled and went over to press a kiss to your head “And this is not healthy” he gently took the jar and closed it

“I know baby, but the babies- you know, the ones you put inside me?” she said as he interrupted “Oh please that night you were begging me to stay inside you, are you really shocked?” Y/N looked up at him “Yes, I was there, now what I was saying, your children give me these cravings, take it up with them” you told him, watching as he turned your chair towards himself, moving to kneel in front of your large belly.

“My little princesses, Aurora and Arabella, maybe you should let your momma snack on some carrots or something so she can help you guys grow big and strong” he gently rubbed your belly as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I can’t wait to meet you both. I hope you look like your momma. She’s the most ethereal woman I have ever seen and you’re gonna love her” he pressed a gentle kiss to your stomach “Goodnight my angels” he stood up and went to put the pickles and mustard back in the fridge.

You got up from the table and went to follow him, tears falling down your cheeks as you sniffled. Bucky looked up at you and frowned “Baby what’s wrong?” he cupped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “I-I just got so lucky you know? I have my dream man, dream life, gonna have 3 wonderful kids” you sniffled again “It’s all so perfect”

Bucky smiled at your declaration. He never thought he’d be able to have this type of life either. But the greatest day of his life was when you moved in next door, and now he’s here.

“It is perfect my love” he pressed a kiss to her forehead “Because everyday when I see you, our little boy, and our little girls? I thank the heavens every day”

He moved his hands to your waist, starting to gently sway with you in the refrigerator light, despite no music playing. Y/N moved her hands to rest on his shoulders, resting her forehead on his as he hummed gently. The way Bucky treats you is so…unlike you’ve ever experienced. He treats you like the finest china on the shelf, with so much love and respect, so gentle and caring, you never want to give that up. You never want to wake up in the mornings without him kissing you awake, making you breakfast in bed, watching him take care of a little boy who he treats like his own, you never want this to end.

“Marry me” you whispered as you felt him stop moving and humming “What?” he said gently as you pulled away to look him in the eye “Marry me” you set a hand on his cheek “Bucky I never want to know what it’s like to live without you. You love Logan and our girls so much, you treat us all so well, and I just want to make our forever love official. So, James Buchanan Barnes, will you marry me?” Bucky looked at you with a stunned expression as he teared up “Y/N, my gorgeous angel, of course, I’ll marry you” he leaned in to kiss you passionately. When he pulled away, you saw the tear tracks down his face “Sweetheart, I promise to give you the wedding you deserve, anything you want, I’ll make it happen” he kissed your nose “Now, my sweet fiance, let’s go to bed” he took your hand, closed the fridge, bringing the both of you back upstairs, as fiances.

#sokovianheadtilt #my little love au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x pregnant reader

348 notes · View notes

concreteburialplot · 1 year ago

Text

VIRALITY // 10

10 - Maybe Both, Maybe Neither

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc [vallie]

masterlist/intro: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 5.8k

summary: after waking up next to each other vallie & nicholas go their separate ways. vallie goes to visit an old friend who may be more than friendly. nicholas goes to sober up noah but doesn’t expect him to pull the curtain back on his resentment.

warnings: mentions about alcoholism/AA meetings/cheating, arguing, noah being annoying but what's new, tea is spilled !!, vallie is vulnerable for once in her life, lots of dialogue, alternating POVs sorry 🥲

A/N: Sorry it's been like 2 months since I’ve updated, it literally did not feel like it 🥲 school & life are kicking my ass lol + this chapter ended up being so complicated / difficult

Also! This chapter introduces a very mild crossover with Christian 'Kras' Anthony from the band Chase Atlantic - he's being used as a fun little temporary reoccurring side character. Don't worry, knowing who he is isn't necessary to understand his character lol i just think he's cute🥰

don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

A jarring buzzing jolts me awake. I sit up a bit with scrunched eyes trying to follow the noise with a wandering patting hand. The noise leads to Vallie’s phone rattling on my bedside table next to her. I grab it and sleepily ignore the call out of habit.

In my still half-sleep state, I don’t want to be anywhere else besides where my body was curled up against her. I return to my spot with my arm around the brunette, tugging her closer. Her scent fills my nostrils when I nuzzle into her neck. The smell of her hair is peppermint-y and the scent on her skin reminds me of marshmallows and… matcha?

Whatever it is, it’s warm, cozy, and smells so yummy it makes me want to eat her again.

Before I have the pleasure of manifesting that thought into reality, her phone goes off vibrating again, this time making me significantly more aggravated.

I snatch the phone looking at her caller ID – the name plastered across the screen:

Christian

with some emojis I’m far too sleepy to decipher.

Christian?

I decide not to ignore her phone call from an evidently urgent caller.

“Hey, Hey.” I gently nudge her shoulder. “Your phone has been going off.”

She lets out a sleepy groan that is probably the cutest noise I’ve ever heard.

She takes one look at the ID and immediately ignores it and shoves it under the pillow.

Odd.

She yawns and rubs her eye, “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure.” I try to look at the edges of my window covered with blackout curtains trying to gauge even the time of day. “You have your phone, check it?”

Her fingers tap against the mattress. “It’s not that important.”

“Who’s Christian?” I blurt out without thinking.

From the angle I’m at, I can see her eyes widen a bit at the question.

She clears her throat. “What?”

“The person who kept calling you. It was someone named Christian?”

“Oh um,” She bites down on my lip, seemingly contemplating her answer. “He’s a friend.”

I’m filled with a feeling I’m not sure I enjoy nor one I should be feeling.

“A friend?” I ask, unconvinced.

It’s none of my business. It doesn’t matter who he is.

“Yeah, a friend.” She scrunches her brows at the wall. “Why do you care who’s calling me?”

“I-I don’t.” I reply but I know I’m a shit liar and I probably don’t sound very convinced. “I was just wondering.”

“Right.” She yawns then gets up in a panic like she just realized where she is. “Oh my god we fell asleep.”

“Yeah…I figured you gathered that by now.” I said falling down flat beside her.

“Fuck Nick, how am I gonna get out of here?” She scrambles for her phone beneath the pillow to finally check the time. “Fuck, fuck, I have to leave.”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Let me just check out the house, I can take you to get your car.” I pull myself out of bed and let myself stretch out my arms above my head.

“Fuck.” She mutters, readjusting her entire torso in her tight top. “Remind me to never sleep in a corset ever again. I need to get out of this, can I borrow something?”

Her attention lands on me and at first, her forest greens are inquisitive and calm but when she actually looks at me, they widen. Her eyes slowly trail down my body and land where my shirt hangs above the exposed skin of my hips.

Watching her tongue slide between her lips makes my heart thump in my ear drums so loud I can barely hear what she’s saying.

“Also, can you um,” She clears her throat and looks back up at me, “Help me get this off?”

“Sure.” I nod and drop my arms back down.

She shifts in the bed so the zipper in the back of the faux-corset faces me. My fingers delicately gather her dark chocolate locks and drape them over her shoulder to get them out of my way. Her tan skin curves so beautifully from her neck to her shoulder that I feel as though if I don’t kiss her there it would somehow be insulting.

The need to kiss her there feels as necessary as air, so lean down and press a hesitant kiss to the crook of her neck as I begin unzipping her top.

She doesn’t stop me, which I was sure she would stop me now in the daylight.

Another kiss up, I linger more there.

Then another in the same spot, then another, and another, and another – until I am fully peppering her skin with open mouth kisses and my hands roam her curves.

She lets out little noises the closer I get to her ear that remind me of the ones she gave me when my tongue was inside her.

It’s not until I’m nipping and sucking at her skin that she speaks.

“Nick…” She whines in a tone that says ‘you know better’.

I tug down the rest of her zipper.

My lips still lazily drag up her neck.

I hum against her and let my hands wander down her sides to her hips. “Let me make you feel good.”

She lets out a shuddered whine but not a red or green light.

My hands round her hips giving them a gentle back and forth rub, “I need to taste you again.” I press another kiss against the sensitive skin below her ear and I can feel goosebumps erupt all over her skin.

My fingers burn everywhere they meet her skin and beg to be everywhere they shouldn’t be.

She closes her eyes and lets herself breathe for a second.

“Nicholas.” She repeats, more sternly this time. “I have to leave before anyone sees me.”

“I know.” I say simply and pull away, strategically resting both hands over my semi.

I know I shouldn’t press more. I know shouldn’t try to convince more. But god do I want to. All I’m thinking about is fucking her senseless.

She keeps a hand on the front of the corset to keep it flush on her skin. “Could I please borrow something?” She reminds me of her original request.

“Oh yeah sure, sorry.” I quickly scan the room for the closest item.

I spot a barely worn Deftones shirt and hand it to her.

“Thanks.”

She just sort of stares at me then makes a ‘turn-around’ motion with her hand.

“Oh, sorry.” I shift away from her. “It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Shut up.”

I hear her let out a sigh of relief, probably from finally being freed from the constricting top.

“Okay you can turn around now.”

I turn back to her and find what I expected: her in my shirt.

What I didn’t expect was to somehow find her even more attractive in my shirt than even a lace corset.

As much as I’d like for her to stay, I fear that if I don’t get her out now, I’ll devour her whole.

“I’ll just… go scope out the area.” I thumb over my shoulder towards the door.

“Good idea.” She nods.

I very quietly sneak out of my room into the empty hallway, gently closing the bedroom door behind me.

After tiptoeing around the house, I find everyone asleep as it seems still quite early, at least for them.

The drive back to the bar is quiet and somewhat awkward. I’m not sure if it’s because of what we did or if I crossed some sort of invisible line and made her upset.

Or maybe both,

Maybe neither.

Maybe I’m over thinking it.

We haven’t talked about anything, no rules, no boundaries. I don’t know how I would bring that up to begin with. What the hell are we doing? And how do I feel about it. How do I want to feel about it?

We say goodbye and it’s stiff and odd. I’m not sure if I should kiss her? Or treat her like my colleague?

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

That one feels more like a maybe neither.

The way she acted this morning makes me think that whatever… this is, is over.

I know it should be done, but there is a part of me that doesn’t want to stop. At least not yet. Maybe if I got one more fix.

Regardless how I feel about it, it was a mistake. I knew that the first time, I knew it last night and I know it now.

Why did I let this happen. How did I let this happen?

I tap my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel once I’ve parked at home.

I know Folio wouldn’t really care but if Noah or Jolly found out about this?

Oh my god.

I don’t even want to think about what would happen.

All I know is two things.

One, I can’t keep fucking thinking about this – I can’t keep thinking about her.

Two, I unfortunately know what I need to do when I walk back through our front door.

-VALLIE-

As soon as my car door shuts behind me, I let out a long sigh that I wasn’t aware I was holding.

I fold my arms around my steering wheel and rest my forehead against it.

“Fuck.”

The entire ride home there was this nausea festering in the pit of my stomach.

I like being with Nicholas.

I like being with Nicholas too much.

And this stupid fucking Deftones shirt is too comfortable and smells too much like him – and I like it more than I should. And I need to get home as soon as possible to get it off me.

This is absolutely the last thing I needed – catching feelings or whatever the fuck is filling my chest with butterflies from someone I’m representing.

This is the band that I shouldn’t have even taken on in the first place, and now I’m here on the verge of vomiting because I miss the way his bed feels. This was not the plan.

I shake my head from the the thoughts as I walk through my front door. It’s just the dickmatization talking. That’s it. I like his dick and that’s all.

His huge fucking…

No.

And god his fucking tongue...

No.

This absolutely cannot be happening.

I won’t let this happen.

I need to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

I chuck my phone and keys on my dresser and use my palms to lean against the edge.

An abrupt buzzing of my iPhone against the hard wood shocks me from my dissociation.

Christian

…could be exactly what I need.

I slide the answer bar across the screen and bring the phone to my ear.

“Hey Kras.” I smile, using his nickname.

“Val!” He chimes cheerfully on the other line. “I’ve been trying to get ya all day!”

“I’m busy Kras, you know that.” I roll my eyes playfully. “What’s up, what do you want so badly?”

“Tour ended last week and I’m staying in LA for a bit for some band stuff before I head back home to Sydney.” He pauses. “I wanna see you. I need to talk to you about something.”

I press my lips together and take a deep breath, suddenly stressed about what exactly that meant.

“Okay. When and where do you wanna meet up?”

“Today? My place?”

“Okay, see you then.”

After a much-needed shower I’m finally at the door of his temporary apartment. I smooth out my outfit, which wasn’t much really, just some sweats with a cropped tank. With as long as I’ve known Kras, it didn’t really matter what I looked like, but I still wanted to look cute. I use my hand to flatten my tied up hair to make sure there’s no ridges before I knock on his door. It doesn’t take long for him to answer it.

“Val.” He greets with his signature big goofy smile.

The tall, long-haired blonde envelopes me into giant hug and I embrace it. His scent fills my nose with memories; it’s soft, comforting, and most of all, fun.

Christian and I have always been close, he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend. Our friendship has always been…interesting to say the least. I think most people would consider our dynamic complicated, but to us it’s quite simple.

I give him a good, hard squeeze around his midsection. “Augh, Kras I’ve missed you.”

He reciprocates the squeeze and places a kiss atop my head. “I missed you too.”

I pull away with a smile and smack his arm, “You don’t text me enough! I didn’t even know your tour ended.”

“Me? The phone works both ways Miss ‘You know I’m busy’” He mocks me jokingly.

“God, I forget how strong your Aussie accent is in person.” I chuckle, diverting the conversation.

I shiver at the ice-cold chill I get from his AC and rub my arms for warmth.

“Fuck it’s cold as shit in here.” It’s so frigid even my teeth chatter.

“Yeah, sorry I like it freezing. You want a jacket or something?” He offers then crosses the room when I nod.

He picks through some clothes in an open suitcase and hands me a multicolored flannel. I pull the flannel over my arms letting the material engulf my body.

After a brief catching up about tour and life, I lean against the wall and cross my arms.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about.” I cut straight to it.

He bites down on his lip, and I can’t tell if he’s excited or nervous.

Maybe both, maybe neither.

“We need a manager.” He blurts out.

“Oh? I thought you were working with-”

“We want you Val.”

I laugh, because surely, he can’t be serious. I don’t belong to an agency and work my two clients freelance, all on my own. There’s no way I could take on another band, especially one as successful as Chase on top of the other two.

“What? No, no, I absolutely couldn’t manage you guys…”

He steps towards me and trails his fingers down my arms and hooks onto my hands. “Sure you can. You used to, remember?”

I shake my head, “Oh, you know that doesn’t count Christian. We were nobodies – you were nobodies. Of course I could manage your measly little 10,000 Instagram followers.”

He squeezes my hands and tugs on my arms. “C’mon Val. It’ll be like the good old days. It’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know about you, but living in a tiny LA apartment with three men struggling to afford food wasn’t really that good or fun.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs on my arms again. “For old times’ sake?”

I shake my head, “No, no, I already have enough on my plate. I just took on another band not that long ago.”

“Please Val, for us?” His brows curve up, and he gives me the biggest hazel puppy dog eyes that he knows I can’t say no to. “For me?”

I groan and rest my head back against the wall. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

His hands leave mine and find their way to my hips, slipping under the flannel so his hands are holding onto bare skin between my tank and my sweats. His forehead presses against mine.

“Is there anything I can do to help change that answer?” He asks between the small space separating us while his finger traces my jaw line tilting my chin up a bit.

I tug at my lip – this is partially why I came here right? To nip my Nick problem in the bud, to break the dickmatization spell.

“I don’t know, maybe.” I tease up at him with round eyes.

“Hm.” He hums and leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips and I freeze.

Even though we’ve done this a million times before, it just feels wrong now. Nicholas and I aren’t even… anything, we’re just fucking, right? But it still feels odd.

I know this feeling.

And I know what it means.

Fuck.

I pull away and give a little head shake.

“Plum?” He asks using our code word for when we’re interested in or dating someone else.

I groan loudly, shuffle past him to his bed in the studio apartment and dramatically fall flat, face down onto it. Then let out an even louder, longer groan.

He walks over and gently sits criss-cross on the bed next to me.

“Must be a pretty good Plum to have you like this.”

Our friendship was simple. We’re the rare example that a friends-with-benefits can be truly, purely platonic and casual. Kras is a generally affectionate guy, even with his bandmates. And he is one of the only people I feel comfortable being affectionate with, so I let myself be affectionate with him.

We are platonically affectionate best friends who fuck when we’re single. It sounds impossible but it’s who we are and who we have been for almost 10 years.

It’s nice, cozy, and convenient. Easy.

He’s safe, familiar, and reliable.

Which is more than I can say for any friendship or relationship I’ve ever had.

I turn my head towards him still flat against the bed.

“It’s bad Kras.”

“How bad?”

I chew on my bottom lip. “I work with him.”

His eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“…In the band you were talking about?”

I turn back to hide my face in his duvet. “Oh yeah.”

“Val noooo.”

I chuckle at how his ‘no’s sound like ‘naaauur’s.

“I knooow.” I whine into the sheets.

“Singer?”

I shake my head against the duvet.

“Guitarist?”

“Bassist.” I reply muffled in bedding.

“Oof.”

A laugh escapes me at his reaction. I pop my head up at him, “Stop, I know.”

I pull myself up and cross the bed to sit next to him and lay my head on his shoulder.

“Maybe I just really like his dick.” I state confidently staring out the large window across the room. I blankly watch the daytime city lights flicker across the highrise-littered skyline.

“You think so?” He asks looking down at me a little. “I’ve never seen you get like this over just good dick. You’re pretty cut and dry about like…emotions. You’re good at separating sex from feelings.” He laughs and nudges me. “That’s why we work so well.”

I groan and hide my face in his shoulder because I know he’s right. He’s always right when it comes to shit like this.

“He sang to me Kras.”

“Oh god…was he any good?”

I feel my cheeks heat up and I nod against his arm, “It was so pretty.”

He laughs and tickles my side, “Look at you! You’re smitten! I never thought I’d see the day.”

I grab the nearest pillow and smack him with it, “Shut up!” then fall back flat and cover my face with it.

There’s a silence between us for a bit, a million things running through my mind, but Kras speaks for me.

“You know you can’t love him, right?” He says gently.

My brows furrow immediately, I slam the pillow down and shoot straight up.

“WHOA, whoa whoa.” I cut through the air with my hand. “Nobody ever said anything about…the L word. I do not…love him.” I can barely get the word out as if it’s something forbidden. “I barely fucking know him. I just like his dick.”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “You can’t like him. You know that right?”

“I don’t even know if I like him. We’re just fucking. That’s all.”

He glares at me with a face that screams, ‘yeah right’. “Well, fine, you know you can’t keep fucking him.”

I let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I thought coming here to fuck you would help.”

He laughs then tapers off in thought.

“Maybe we don’t actually have to fuck in order to help.” He suggests.

I raise a brow at him, “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean… guys normally don’t just sing to girls they’re casually hooking up with.”

“Okay…?” I motion for him to keep going.

“So, if it comes up or anything, you could just lie.” He shrugs.

“Lie about what?”

“About like, fucking someone else. If he likes you enough to sing to you, he probably won’t be happy if you tell him you’re fucking someone else. So, he’ll stop trying to fuck you.”

I chew on my thumbnail in thought, he’s right. Like always.

“Maybe. I don’t really know if he’d even care. We never really talking about anything… I thought we just had a silent agreement about just fucking, he never said anything about-”

“He sang to you Val.”

I anxiously twirl the ends of my ponytail and chew on my bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

He gives me the most ‘are you for real’ glare.

“Okay, okay.” I deflate. “IF it comes up, I’ll mention something.”

“Just don’t say who I am. I don’t know him, he could beat my ass." He laughs. "Plus, it would be pretty awkward for him to find out that you’re fucking a hot guitarist from your other band.” He smirks cheekily.

“Shut up.” I elbow his side playfully, “I never said yes.”

“But you will.”

I chew on my lip thinking it over.

On one hand, I’m already insanely busy and overworked with the two artists I’m already managing.

On the other hand, as odd as they are, they are old and close friends of mine. It wouldn’t be like managing strangers or learning a whole new fanbase, I helped build the foundation of the one they have now back in 2014.

And it would be a good distraction.

If this plan works out with Nick, maybe I could move on from Plum status and I can actually focus on my job.

“Fine. I’ll do it. BUT,” I hold a finger pointed towards him menacingly, “ONLY temporarily.”

“Ah yes! I knew you would!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around me and tackling me to the bed, pressing various ‘thank you’ kisses to my cheek.

“Okay, okay enough.” I chuckle trying to escape his grasp.

-NICHOLAS-

I let a long sigh at the bottom of the stairs, shifting my weight between both feet. I tap my fingers on the wooden railing anxiously. I probably shouldn’t be this rattled over something I’ve done a million times before. But it doesn’t get any easier.

I push myself up the stairs in one driving force knowing that it has to be me. It’s always me.

Never Folio. Never Jolly.

It’s always been my job.

There’s no response when I knock on Noah’s bedroom door.

I knock again, no answer.

So, I let myself in.

As expected, Noah’s passed out with a fresh bottle of whiskey half drank on his nightstand. His room still in as much filth as it’s been for a while. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen his room even remotely messy a handful of times, and this is the worst I’ve ever seen it. In the past I’ve known the reasons behind the mess or the drinking – usually over a breakup or some depression spell – but this time he kept me in the dark. I have no fucking clue what's going on with him.

If I wasn’t so aggravated with him already, the mess of the room would worry me even more than I already am.

I cross the threshold of garbage between the door and his bed and pat his cheek awake.

“Noah.”

Sleepy snores tumble from his mouth and while one might find them endearing, right now, they’re pissing me the fuck off.

“Noah.” I say more sternly, nudging him more. No luck.

I try various other ways, and nothing works. He’s out cold.

So, I try a tried-and-true classic.

I climb on top of him and straddle his waist over the duvet, one knee at each side of his hips. His boney exposed shoulders offer a great anchor so I grab them, shaking him awake.

He comes-to slowly, droopy heavy lids struggling to open. His fist goes to rub his tired eye but winces when he’s reminded of the swollen black and blue that surrounds it.

“The fuck are you doing?” He groans, stealing a pillow from beside him to cover his face. “Get off of me.”

I snatch the pillow from his grasp and toss it across the room. “No. You’re going to get up. You’re going to shower. And I’m taking you to a meeting.”

He shields his eyes with his arm. “I’m-I’m fine Nick, don’t need a meeting.” His words slurring together.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” I correct.

“I don’t need a meeting.” He hiccups and I can smell the alcohol radiating off him, seeping through his skin. “I’m not going. I'm just gonna sleep.”

I grab his wrists, pin them to the bed and get low to his face. “Oh you’re going. We’re gonna sober you up, starting with a shower.” I pull off him and stand beside the bed.

“Let’s go. C’mon.”

“No.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way has the same result. Let’s go.”

“No.”

I sigh, even though I knew it would end up like this. “Fine. Hard way it is.”

I yank the sheets off him and use two arms to scoop up his body by his midsection and throw him over my shoulder. He’s thin enough to where even I can lift and carry him easily – or maybe I’ve just gotten used to the weight of him in my arms.

“Nick let me fucking go.” He whines but doesn’t try to wiggle out of my grasp, probably too hungover to move that much.

With every bit of my strength, I carry his thin body to his guest bathroom.

I all but toss him into the shower, start the water, and fling the curtain closed.

“Hey! What the fuck!” He yells and shuts off the water immediately.

He slings the curtain open and snatches a towel off the nearest rack, wrapping it around his shirtless torso.

“What the fuck is your problem, Nicholas!” His hands frantically wipe the water from his face.

I let out a frustrated groan and turn to leave. "Stop being a baby."

He steps out of the tub and calls after me, “Hey, I’m not fucking done talking to you!”

The shower shock did exactly what I needed it to do, sober him up, but now I regret even waking him up.

“My problem is that you’re a fucking drunk Noah.” I snap turning back to him.

“I’m not a fucking drunk, I have it under control. You’re just fucking paranoid!” He steps into the hallway dripping water all over the carpet.

“I’m not fucking paranoid, Noah. I’m not letting you drink yourself to oblivion.”

His brows lift in offense, “Let me? What the fuck are you, my fucking keeper?”

“Sometimes it sure fucking feels like I am!” The words escape me before I can stop them.

He chuckles in disbelief, “Well, nobody fucking asked you to be.”

“It doesn’t matter if anyone asked me to, I have to because who the fuck else is gonna pick your sorry, bruised ass off a bar floor in the middle of the fucking day?” My hand helps exaggerate each word.

“Jolly or Folio would’ve.” He sasses, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah? And how long you think they’d put up with that?” I step closer to him. “Not for as long as I have, that’s for fucking sure.”

His eyes scrunch together like he’s hurt or offended.

Maybe both,

Maybe neither.

“I won’t let you push out everyone in our lives Noah.”

His eyes land on me and he cocks his head to the right a bit like a dog processing a foreign noise.

“‘Push out everyone in our lives’ is that what this is actually about? Alice?”

My gaze locks on him and my hands curl into tight fists at my sides. There are many words I want to say but none seem able to leave my tongue.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious.” He steps back and points defensively at me. "I didn't push her out, you did!"

My blood boils and burns as it courses through my veins. My eyes narrow at him.

“I know you fucked her Noah.” I shove my finger so hard into his chest that it nearly knocks him back.

“I didn’t even like her Nick! Why the fuck would I fuck her?” He immediately denies.

“Because you always have to have everything you want, including the things that aren’t yours.”

“‘Things’” He scoffs. “Funny how you’re so upset about someone you only see as a thing.”

My teeth grind so hard it makes my jaw clench, “You know she was never a thing to me until you fucked her.”

“Oh, give it a break Nicholas! Stop blaming me for her leaving.” His hands exaggerate his words then points straight at me. “You are the reason your relationship failed. You are the reason she left.”

My eyes narrow as I step closer to his soaked body. “I would really watch what you fucking say if I were you.”

“Or what?” He asks but I have no answer. “When are you going to stop punishing me for something I never fucking did?”

I watch his eyes: dark brown, heavy, bloodshot, and one lined with a dark bruise from the bar fight. His words sound genuine, but I know his eyes, I know them like the back of my hand.

I know when he’s lying, and he’s lying to me right now. I can’t prove it, I haven’t been able to, but I know he’s been lying to me for the past year.

“For the love of god Noah, can you just stop fucking lying?” I snap. "You don't even have enough respect for me to tell me the truth?"

“Wow.” He presses his lips together for a moment. “You must think so low of me to really believe that I would do something like that.”

“I don’t have to think low of you to believe the truth.” I hiss, stepping towards him. “But you’re going to keep denying it so it’s irrelevant what I believe did or didn’t happen. What I do know, is that you have a fucking problem, and you need help.”

He steps towards me with low brows and narrow beady eyes, “I didn’t fuck Alice and I don’t need a fucking alcohol anonymous meeting just because I still like to get drunk sometimes. I am a fucking adult, and I don’t need you to ‘save me’.” He scoffs and runs his tongue across his teeth. “You know? Maybe that’s what actually drove Alice away, you and your fucking high-and-mighty, savior complex bullshit.”

Every inch of skin on my body feels like its burning and my heart races so loud I can barely even think clearly. I tighten my fists so tight that my nails dig into my palms painfully. I know that if I do anything, it will make me look like the villain.

“I can’t fucking hit you because if I do, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” I growl lowly. “Get sober or don’t, I don’t fucking care anymore – but we have a chance, a real chance at making it now and if you ruin this for us Noah, I will never fucking forgive you. Do you understand me? I will fucking destroy you if you fuck this up for us.”

His brows curve up and he looks at me like I’m insane for insinuating that he would. “I won’t.” He replies through gritted teeth.

I glance over the railing when I hear the house beginning to stir with Jolly and Folio starting to wake up, which is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I don’t need them getting involved.

“Just,” I lower my voice between us. “Make it to rehearsals, meetings, shows – the rest I don’t give a fuck. Just make it to work. Sober.”

“Fine.” He says quickly, "If that will keep you out of my fucking business and leave me the fuck alone."

"Fine."

"Fine." He repeats, because of course he has to have the last word, before storming off to his room and slamming the door behind him.

I mirror him, making it to my room and slamming the door.

Once alone, the feeling that courses through my body is nauseating, painful and overwhelming. It is a visceral ache, I feel it twisting in my chest first, in my ribs, then flows and pools in the pit of my stomach.

I thought I moved on from the Alice situation. I tried to force myself to believe him, I tried to forget and push it so far down that it wouldn’t hurt. Tried to rationalize, maybe he didn’t sleep with her. Maybe he didn’t betray me. Maybe it really is just me projecting the weaknesses of our relationship onto him. But no matter how hard I push it down, it always bubbles back up.

And in my gut, I know he did it. Everything adds up, the timelines, the behavior, all of it.

I was just never prepared for a girlfriend to cheat on me with my best friend. I was never prepared to have him sleep with my girlfriend. Not after everything we’ve been through.

I was never prepared to have my heart broken by the two people I trusted and loved more than anything in my life.

In retrospect, I guess, I should’ve expected it. For as long as I can remember Noah always had girls fawning all over him. He always had that lead singer charm even though he never planned on being a frontman. Girls were never an issue for him, he seemed to get anyone he ever wanted.

Is it really that far-fetched that the one I had wanted him too?

Is that all that this is going to be from now on? Any girl the rest of us want, would just want Noah first?

I never pictured that this would be our future.

I never pictured my best friend of over a decade fucking my girlfriend then lying about it to my face.

I never pictured having to drag said lying, alcoholic best friend out of bed trying to get him to an AA meeting just so he could be sober enough for rehearsals.

I never imagined that out of the four of us, it would be me having to hold it all together. I never signed up for that. I signed up to play an instrument, to sign CDs, sleep in busses and sit in interviews. I never signed up to play manager, I never signed up to secretly scrape Noah off bar floors, be his personal caretaker and tentative AA sponsor. Doing all of that just to have it thrown in my face, to stand next to him – every day in rehearsals, in photoshoots, on stage, across the fucking dining table – knowing what he did and pretending that I’m okay with it.

I never thought I’d feel stuck in this band, this thing Noah and I have worked on and dreamed about since we were 15. I’ve poured so much of my life into this fucking band.

I can’t just up and leave. I’d have nothing left. I’d be nothing without them and I can’t be the bomb to blow us up. Especially not now when everything is just starting to take off. All this work would’ve been for nothing.

It’s not just my livelihood and dream, but theirs as well. I can’t do that to them.

And as much as I want to, as much as I’ve tried, I can’t leave Noah. We both know I’m right whether he wants to admit it or not. Nobody else would do what I do, nobody knows what I do, and nobody knows how to take care of him the way I do. He’s stubborn and stupid and won’t let anyone else in the way he’s let me in.

I don’t know why I’m the only one who has gotten the curse of his trust, but I have it and I can’t hand it off or set it down – no matter how heavy or suffocating it is.

Next Chapter -> 11 - Peak Fashion

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @kingdomof-omens @persuasivus @strawberryruffilo @thebadchic @the-hell-i-overcame @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @cncohshit @dominuslunae [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

A/N: The love for this story has honestly been so overwhelming (in a good way obv) and I couldn't be more grateful. I really thought this would flop lol so, thank you so much for every like, reblog, ask, or comment. It means the world to me truly. Thank you.

i love hearing your thoughts so feel free to share! (i'm really bad at responding to comments/asks but i still love them 🥺)

#2 POVs bc i was feeling SILLY #& by silly i mean the characters were not cooperating with the assignment #sorry if this chapter is all over the place i was having so much trouble with this one #this is the first time i’ve ever had multiple POVs in one chapter & i can’t tell if i like it or not #vallie wears princess by kilian perfume #i love how vallie's character is developing #i think vallie & kras' friendship came out so cute 😭#nicholas ruffilo fanfic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo fanfic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x oc #nick ruffilo x oc #nicholas ruffilo x fem!oc #bad omens x oc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x fem!oc #virality series #virality #christian anthony #christian kras anthony #christian anthony fanfic #kras anthony fanfic #chase atlantic #chase atlantic fanfic #concreteburialplot works

73 notes · View notes

what-gs-watching · 9 months ago

Text

"You guys are like a dead married couple on acid."

Y’ALL, I watched Dead Boy Detectives. Which really, should come as no surprise. Because of the whole Neil Gamain thing. But also because that kind of weird is right up my alley.

I have to say, I’m absolutely loving this trend of teen-shows-with-absolutely-wild-shit-happening. This was not a thing when I was younger, and I thoroughly appreciate it. Why did I only have Dawson’s Creek and Sabrina the Teenage Witch and fucking Boy Meets World? Don’t get me wrong, I love all of those but what I really would have benefited from was teen drama with fucked up situations. Gen Z is kind of lucky I guess? (LOL jk except for the entire state of the world, but at least they get good shows…)

Wherein two teenaged ghosts form a detective agency to help solve cases for other ghosts that would otherwise go ignored, while running from death lest they be forced into the afterlife and separated, making friends with a psychic and other humans along the way.

The thing is, you gotta let go with this show. It gets INCREDIBLY weird and you have to roll with it. Edwin’s death by accidental satanic sacrifice? Sure. Crystal the psychic purposely letting a demon possess her? Okay yeah. A supernatural entity that controls all cats in a small town, ridiculously named the Cat King? Harder to swallow, but I guess. A literal crow that gets turned into a boy who loves astrology? Confusing but, go on. Incredibly aggressive and vulgar sprites eventually locked up in a jar? Actually, that’s hilarious I’m good with that.

Truly, it’s absurd. And surprisingly violent. But also, and again no surprise, I was all about the underlying subtext between Edwin, who died in 1916, and his relationship with Charles, who died in 1989. I will always get behind a decades long ‘will they won’t they’ even if it’s between ghosts. Because I’m a fucking sucker for boys maybe being in love. And the entire trope in general. I love love, gang, even if it’s surrounded by horrible things happening. Maybe even more, if it is? I’m not sure what that says about me, but I’m WITH it.

Also there is a TON going on in this show, they cover an incredible amount in 8 episodes. I always appreciate shows that can carry an overall storyline and smaller ones in a good balance. Monster of the week slash lore smushed together is always so satisfying.

I’ve seen some reviews talking about the acting being less than stellar but like, they’re supposed to be kids. Everything is dramatic to kids. Who cares? They carried it as best as they could, and there isn’t anything really that stuck out to me as absolutely cringe worthy. Yeah they look older than they’re meant to but again, who cares. Let go, people.

AND how excited was I to see the actress that played Rowena in Supernatural as the Night Nurse? Absolutely perfect choice. If they get another season I can’t wait to see her relationship with the boys grow.

Thinking about it, maybe I like teen dramas that are absolutely not grounded in reality because it’s easier to stomach the allegories they want you to, that way. Edwin learns to confront his feelings, both about Charles and with the kid that inadvertently caused his death. Crystal struggles with her memory and the person she used to be versus the person she wants to be. Niko has to figure out how to have friends again after becoming a shut-in. Charles struggles with memories from his life and feeling powerless, choosing to paper a happy face over it instead. Jenny has to confront her distrust of literally everyone and her fear of love (even if that went horribly wrong).

I don’t want to be beaten over the head with life lessons (I still haven’t finished Dawson’s Creek, it’s just too much to take sometimes) but I WILL absorb them while characters fight off horrible witches and try to defeat sea monsters. Ya girl clearly needs to be tricked into learning things. Don’t we all? Isn’t it better that way?

I mean, you’re still getting force fed those slightly saccharine sentiments, for sure, but it’s easier to swallow. Gimme a little bit of spice with that sweet, please.

The point is: this show is adorable. Can a show that’s about ghosts and witches and general supernatural fuckery be adorable? I don’t care, it totally is. And it slightly quenched my unending Good Omens thirst for like, a minute, and that’s obviously incredibly hard to do.

So, I’m here for it. Gimme more Dead Boys.

#what g's watching #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #charles x edwin #edwin payne #charles rowland

49 notes · View notes

gale-force-storm · 8 months ago

Note

Hello my love!

Here is your song for the writing prompt!

No pressure! Hope it brings you some inspiration.

You know, it's been a while since I properly stretched my angst muscles, so thanks for the opportunity to do that lol

This is my first attempt at writing god!Gale, so I hope y'all like it!

Also posted it to AO3

Tav stood, staring at the statue. It was a good likeness. It had been years, but they would never forget that face. Both the lovely soft version, with its wrinkles and freckles and scars, and the cold, metallic version later on. It was late, the room devoid of worshipers and caretakers, just as Tav had hoped. They didn't want an audience. Which is why they were all the more startled to hear their name from behind them, in an all too familiar voice.

"It's been a while, Tav."

"Gale!" They jumped and spun around, eyes wide.

"Apologies for startling you. I had hoped you would come to visit."

"You did?"

"Of course." He swept closer, smiling. It was jarring, the way that smile looked so familiar yet felt so different. "I sent you signs, after all."

"So that was you," Tav muttered. They thought back to all the little moments they’d had over the past year. The sudden scent of ink and parchment with a hint of ozone they would suddenly notice on the breeze. The way the roll of thunder on stormy nights sometimes sounded eerily like their name. The dozens of other tiny moments that had reminded them of him, which they'd brushed off as coincidence or a trick of their own mind. All the small reminders that had led them into one of his temples. They felt a little sick.

"Of course. I'd considered simply paying a visit myself, but given how we parted, I thought it best to allow you to come to me."

Tav couldn't help but scoff. ""How we parted" is one way to put it. You left."

“I gave you an offer-”

“That I had already told you I would refuse. You knew where I stood, and you sought godhood anyway. You left.”

His classic charming smile dropped, fading into a frown.

“I did,” he finally replied. “And I do not regret my decision. This is what I was meant for, Tav. All my hard work, realized and crystalized into my very being. The best version of myself.”

“So you said previously,” they said, already growing tired of his condescension. “Why did you want me to come here?”

“I...”

The fact that he was hesitating at all gave Tav pause, unsure of what to expect. It was unlike this new form of his to be anything other than straightforward and obnoxiously confident.

“I suppose I missed you,” he finally said. “And I wanted to renew my offer.”

Tav sighed and hung their head. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am.”

“We’ve been through this already, Gale. I have no desire for godhood. And you’re...” Their voice caught as their throat tightened. They took a breath to collect themself before looking back up to meet his eyes. “You’re not the man I fell in love with. Not anymore.”

“I’m better!” he retorted. “No longer the fallible, limited mortal you knew. I can do anything. Be anything. Give you anything!”

“This was a mistake,” they muttered. They turned towards the door, only for Gale to appear in front of them.

"Please, Tav. You missed me," he insisted. “You missed me too. I know you did.”

Tav shook their head sadly. "I miss Gale Dekarios. His is the loss I mourn."

"Then I can still be him, for you," he said. His form shimmered, and suddenly he was no longer the shining god. There was that tan skin, the brown hair and eyes, and yet... it still wasn't quite right. His form was a bit too chiseled. The gray streaks were gone from his hair. His very presence lacked the warmth it once had.

"No, you can't," they replied, shaking their head. "Not really."

"But I-"

"You're a god, Gale. The god of ambition, no less. To truly become him again, in all his mortality, it goes against your very nature. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, even if it was within your power. And I will not join you in godhood. I refuse. That was never my ambition, and it was never what I wanted for you.”

“So you would have preferred I simply fall into line?!” he suddenly snapped. “Return the crown to Mystra and beg her forgiveness with my tail between my legs? You would have preferred I never reach my full potential? That I fall to time and obscurity and die?”

“I would have preferred that you live!” they spat back. “I wanted Gale Dekarios to live. To live out the rest of his beautiful, mortal life, happy with who he was. Happy with me. But no. You decided that wasn’t enough. That you could be better and do better. I told you it would be cold and lonely at the top.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so stubborn!”

“I could say the same to you!”

“I’m sorry! Alright?!” he finally yelled. “I’m sorry for leaving! Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry I didn’t wait around in mortal form trying to convince you. But we’re here now! Just tell me what you want, Tav. What must I say to convince you to stay?”

Tav could feel the hot tears finally spilling over, rolling down their cheeks. They laughed bitterly, the sound wet and broken.

“I should have known better.”

"Please, Tav. I'll do anything. Anything you wish. Simply name it, and it's yours. I’ll give you anything and everything in my power."

Tav almost wanted to slap him for trying to use that old, pleading look on them. Once it had been compelling. Endearing. Now it simply left a sour taste in their mouth.

"The only thing I want from you is the one thing you can't give. I want Gale back. The man. The mortal man. And whether it's in your power or not, I know that's the one thing you cannot do."

"I'm sorry, Tav. You were right, I shouldn’t have left you. I want you with me. We can work something out. Please, you have to believe me."

Tav just shook their head. "It's not about whether I believe you. You could be saying whatever it takes to sway me, or you could be sincere, but it doesn't change anything. You're still a god, and I'm still a mortal, and I'm not interested in giving that up to join you. You've made your vast, celestial bed, and I'm afraid you must lie in it." They turned then, heading towards another door. "We’re done here."

"NO!" There was a crackle in the air, the smell of ozone, and a bang as all the doors slammed shut at once. Tav froze, and slowly turned to look at Gale. His glamor was gone, godly form on full display once more.

"Gale," Tav said quietly, carefully. "Don't do this." They tried to keep their voice steady, but only partially succeeded.

"Me?! You don't do this! Don't just walk away from me! I thought we had something special, Tav."

"You walked first," Tav spat, unable to keep the bitterness out of their tone. "We did have something special, and you decided to walk away from it. You knew my feelings. You knew the consequences, and you did it anyway."

"I'm sorry, Tav," he pleaded.

"So am I," Tav replied. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." They walked towards the door, and were relieved to find it unlocked.

"Please, Tav."

Tav looked back at the god staring pleadingly at them, taking in the sight of him one last time.

"Goodbye, Dekarios the Divine."

They shut the door behind them leaving the god standing in his temple: shining, divine, and utterly alone.

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #god!gale #angst #my writing #former gale/tav #it's been so long since i wrote actual proper angst like this #asked and answered

15 notes · View notes