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#and it matters to me that he knows/realized that
dilatorywriting · 2 days
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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 1.5]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: There is a little, annoying human trapped in this bay with him. And he's going to eat them. (Vil's POV)
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3]
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There was a little, raggedy human staring up at him from the sand, and Vil had never felt so miserably persecuted in all his years.
The thing had been bound to him in a mess of ropes and frantic, bipedal flailing, and he’d honestly thought that it had drowned. Hoped that it had drowned. But no, apparently he couldn’t be quite so lucky. None of his pod’s raids had ever gone so terribly, and normally he was better able to keep his head about him. But it had been Epel’s first attempt at sneaking on board one of the grand, creaking, human vessels, and maybe he’d been a touch concerned about it. Like a fretting parent sending their guppy off to the deep for their first solo-swim. And perhaps he’d struck a bit too quick and sharp when he saw things headed South. Not taking the normal care he would to assess for traps, or weapons, or stupid humans and their equally stupid, fraying ropes.  
But none of that mattered. It was hardly a crime to want to protect your family. It had happened, that was the end of it. There was no changing things. And now he was here. In this cove. With that thing.
You pedaled backward in the sand like those two legs of yours hardly worked at all, and even though it looked like you were retreating (rightfully so, at least you were smart enough to realize this was a lost battle), Vil still bared his teeth in a challenge. Because he was angry, and sore, and at the moment you were the cause of every, single one of his problems in the world. He tossed his tail in the surf, splattering stinging bits of ice water into your face.
“Stop! Stop!” you squawked, wheeling away like he was dousing you in acid rain rather than a bit of pissy water warfare. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”
“Of course you weren’t,” he spat. “From the looks of you, you don’t plan much of anything at all.”
You didn’t respond to his scathing insult, only kept scooting yourself back against the sand on legs that still apparently refused to work. Or maybe you’d simply forgotten about them. You seemed like you could be the type.
He ground his talons into the damp sand at his hips and felt the ridges of the fins along his spine prickling tight and painful, trying to puff out in a predatory display that they simply couldn’t because he was still bound in the godforsaken rope.
“I don’t know what your little plan was,” he hissed, “but you’ve done both of us a disservice. And while I’m sure you’re used to disappointment, I am not going to tolerate this.”
More silence. You looked—not confused, per se. But definitely not particularly keen on following his very justified rant against your person. Your gaze kept darting from his vicious glare, to his claws digging up the shoreline, and then to his lips. He could see your own mouth moving a bit alongside his, like you were trying to echo the shape of the insults flying off his tongue.
“Listen here, you fleshy rat,” he snapped, jabbing a black talon in your direction. “You’re going to tell me the course that your ridiculous ship had set so that I can return to my pod at once. Do you understand? And if you’re lucky, I won’t crawl my way up there to bite off your fingers one by one. How’s that sound?”
You blinked back at him with no comprehension, like his marvelous depiction of having your bones gnawed on for snacks just wasn’t a vivid enough picture.
The rage in his chest bubbled bright and hot, and the age-old magics in his veins zipped through his blood like a stroke of lightening.
Insolent brat.
Fine. He’d make you listen then.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you said, and oh, you were a nuisance. He was going to rip your nerves out from the depths of your useless, human limbs. Feast on your bones until the marrow had been picked clean and leave the scraps for the gulls—
He parted his lips and sang loud and sharp—letting that familiar lull roll off his tongue like the sweetest poison. His Call had always been the strongest in his pod, after all. That’s why it was his job to keep them safe, to ensure that no one was lost in a hunt that was meant to be so simple just because they couldn’t keep their purple-headed curiosity under wraps long enough to not to be caught—
Vil turned his sneer back your way, fully prepared to see you kowtowed before him with your nose buried in the sand. And—
You were just sitting there. Butt in the muck and just as wide-eyed and brainless as before. Staring back at him with a startled sort of expression on your face and nothing else. Normally there was a sort of tether between him and his victims. A call, an answer. Simple principles. And while he could never see the tangible net of his influence tightening around their brains, he could always sense it. Or at least something like it. But this time, there was just… nothing.
Vil snarled, swallowing around the spiky pinch of something in his gut that he refused to call panic, and canted his head back to sing louder.
The shallow dregs of the cove rippled at his hips with the force of it, and he could feel the swell of his influence curling out further and further. Digging its claws into anything and everything it could reach. He could feel one tether spooling out and grabbing after the other, feel the familiar pull of subservience from the very sea itself. And—
“I can’t hear you!”
Oh, you mocking piece of—
He widened his mouth until his jaw was creaking and his tongue was going numb from the sharp bursts of arcana snapping from throat.
“It’s not a challenge!” you wailed, hands cupped over your mouth to try and shout over his howling song. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”
His mouth fell closed all at once, the Call cutting off so abruptly that the returning wave of snapping magics almost made his head spin. The power of it hung along his nerves like the zipping prickle of electric eels, and the water at his hips churned and bubbled.
“There,” you huffed, like someone who’d just been horribly inconvenienced by a gust of wind ruining their hair, rather than a human bearing the full weight of a siren’s fury. Brushing off some of the most powerful magics in the ocean like it was nothing worse than a bit of sand in your trousers. It was… unnerving. And it had something uneasy curdling in Vil’s stomach.
He dug his claws into the sand, fins flaring along his sides in a defensive display before he could help himself. Your eyes tracked the way the muck gave way beneath his talons and he watched your throat bob. Good. You should be afraid of him. Because he refused to be afraid of a human like you. No matter how the hair at his nape prickled or the fins at his ears pinned against the sides of his head.
“Well…” you said after a long moment, awkward and stiff. “I should get going, I suppose.”
And then you were stumbling your way to your feet to venture deeper into the crags of the small island. Vil smacked his tail against the surf, loud and sharp. A plaintive ‘good, begone,’ if ever there was one. But you didn’t even flinch, let alone turn around to witness his grand ‘fuck you.’ He wasn’t sure why he was expecting you to.
He watched you crawl your way up a mess of boulders and old shells, eyes narrowed and that same, unpleasant prickle running through his nerves. Once you were well and truly out of sight, he returned to his fins and started doing all he could to assess the damage. The sooner he could deal with this setback and set out into the depths of the ocean, the sooner he could return to his pod. And the sooner he’d be away from you, and all your strange, human ways.
.
.
You returned maybe an hour later, only a few minutes after he’d given up on trying to pick the horrid mess of twine from the wounds along his tail. His claws weren’t made for such delicate work, and the poisoned tips of them weren’t doing his shredded fins any favors.
He turned on you with a snarl that would have sent any other sentient creature scurrying for cover, fins pinned and canines on full display. But apparently you had less self-preservation than even the brainless, teeny, rock crabs burrowing hurriedly into the sand.    
“Hello,” you said. Like that was any way appropriate.
“Get lost,” he snarled.
You nodded back, simple and sage, and then pointed to the mess of your ropes twined along his fins.
“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”
Vil sneered and surged forward to scrape his claws through the muck again, hoping his demonstration of what he would do to your face if you stepped near him was clear enough to get through your head.
“Touch me and you’ll be lucky if all I do is eat you.”
You blinked back, and he watched the way your eyes jumped across his expression. Trailed to his mouth, his brow, his teeth. Reading whatever you could see there. And then you shrugged again, unbothered by his spitting threats as before.
“Alright. Your loss, I suppose.”
There was a keenness to your gaze though, a sharp, pointed consideration that had his hackles rising all over again.
“If you think that you can be rid of me that easily, you’re solely mistaken,” he spat, smacking his fins into the shallows until the water was churning wild and angry. “This is all your fault, and whatever ridiculous plot you’re considering, I’ll gladly return it tenfold.”
Your face pinched like you had any right to be annoyed by this at all, and then promptly turned away from him like you’d lost all interest in his theatrics. You meandered around the shore, scooping up the battered remains of some of the fish that had stranded themselves during his failed Call. Then you sat yourself well away from the water’s edge and pulled a knife from your boot, running it along the fish’s scales and clearing out the muck.
“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly, making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so. Like that little blade of yours was supposed to be any sort of a threat. Perhaps he could use it to pick the leftover bits of you out of his teeth.
Vil turned up his nose and returned to carefully grooming the shredded ends of his fins.
“You’re an obnoxious brat,” he growled, wincing as his claws caught over a frayed patch of scales and began to bleed all over again. “And I’m going to drown you.”
Naturally, you did not respond.
.
.
The rope burned, and he knew he wasn’t helping himself. The twine of it was frayed, poor quality. And combined with the tacky, salt-sticky damp of the waves, it made the worst sort of web. Vil threw himself around in the shallows like a pup stuck in their first net. And he knew—knew—this wasn’t going to make things better. But the more he worked to free himself and the less progress he made, the angrier he got (Not afraid, angry. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t).
A tight bit of fibers snagged along the delicate mesh of the fins at his hips and gave a shrieking riiip that had him collapsing into the sand bed with a bitten off noise that he refused to call a gasp. But Sevens, it did hurt. He pressed his face into the shallow pool of warm water beneath his chin and forced his breath to calm, to dig his claws into the grit beneath him rather than his own scales. Because this wasn’t working. And he—he needed to fix it. On his own. Because he was on his own. And he was going to manage, just like he always had.
There was a noise off on the shore—the tumbling of pebbles against stone as you shifted around in your little, makeshift hideaway. And he refused to look up to meet your gaze. Because surely you were staring. Humans were always so happy to watch his kind suffer, flailing about in their traps and bound in nets like a garish display. And he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he’d been seen like… like this.
So he forced himself to go still and silent, ignoring the pain biting into his sides like the teeth of a shark and the panicked, clawing thing in his gut that kept screaming that he was going to die here.
.
.
The next morning, you were wandering the shoreline, scrounging after the remains of various crabs from the day prior. Vil refused to look at you, and spent the time pointedly running his claws through the tangles in his hair and primping himself like he didn’t have a care in the world. Because if a stupid, lowly human fit for nothing but an after-dinner-snack could thrive in these circumstances, than surely he could do even better.
There was the soft, wet sounds of your footsteps behind him, and Vil turned on you with a roaring snarl—fins pinned and spines perked, defensive.
“What?” he snapped, beating his tail.
You awkwardly held up one your pickings—a round, red crab with fat claws.
“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…”
Vil fought the urge to gawk. Were you offering him one of—but why would you—
He bit through his surprise with another sneer. “Firstly, crabs are crustaceans, not fish. You’d think any self-respecting creature that spent their days on the ocean would know something as obvious as that. Secondly, why would you even think that I would share a meal with you? Even I didn’t think humans could be that stupid, but you’re certainly setting a new bar.”
Your mouth twitched at his very sharply enunciated ‘stupid’ and he fought a smirk.
“Oh. Know that one, do you?” he cooed, all mocking.
“Look, do you want it or not?” you snapped, irritated, and his fins flared up again—wide and defensive.
Vil crossed his arms on an exaggerated, pointed huff and turned in the other direction. A clear dismissal. “I’d rather starve.”
“Whatever,” you griped, voice canted sharp with your foul temper, and then there was a crack and a yelp.
Vil turned back to see you reeling away, hand over your mouth to catch a mix of blubbering, wincing curses and a shattered crab shell clenched between your fingers in the most obvious show of stupidity he’d perhaps ever seen. He burst out into laughter before he could help himself, and you stormed away with warm cheeks and pieces of jagged, red shell still clinging to the corners of your lips.
.
.
That night he fought the ropes even harder, ignoring the way they pulled, and tore, and dug into places that he knew they should not. And maybe it was self-destructive, stupid, but if he didn’t get himself free of this horrible mess his fins would never heal. He’d never be able to swim properly again. And he’d never be able to leave this cove, never return to his pod, his family. Never—
A shell walloped him in the back of the head and Vil turned with a shriek so vicious it nearly startled even him. Because there you were—the bane of his existence. Standing at the edge of the water with that ridiculous, deadpan look on your ridiculous face and already scrounging about in the sands like you were looking for something else to throw at him. He didn’t even know what he was screaming at that point, absolutely brought over the edge in rage, and pain, and fear, and it was all. your. faul—
Then something in your expression snapped and you were storming forward towards the surf—absolutely incensed.
“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you shrieked, stomping in the sand and nearly pinning the longer, trailing ends of his fins beneath your heels. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”
“You trapped me!” he howled, outraged. “You were going to kill a member of my pod! Who’s barely out of his pup days! And he was my responsibility, and you were going to attack him!”
Magic zipped along his tongue, demanding that you kneel. Show your throat and be done with it. But when you just kept glaring back—absolutely stone-faced and seething with indignation—Vil forced himself to take a breath, and then another.
“Epel,” he spat, low and exaggerated. He saw your eyes flicker to his lips, trace the outline of the word. “Epel,” he said again, sharp and angry. And when your own mouth began to subconsciously follow the shape of it, he was off and running again. “He’s my responsibility. Epel. He—” Vil pointed at the pale, lavender creases at the base of his fins. “His hair is like this. You saw him. You spoke to him. And you were going to tie him up just like you did to me.”
Your eyes narrowed, sharp.
“That kid,” you said after a moment, lips twisting in a frown. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”
“Epel,” Vil spat again, smacking his fins into the surf to douse you in a mess of seawater. “Not some kid. A pup. Barely of age. And you were going to—”
“You—” you hissed, scrubbing the salt from your eyes with the back of your hand. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. It splattered along Vil’s hips, barely a sprinkling in comparison to his own tidal waves. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”
Vil snarled, and the twist of it left a bitter, rotten taste on his tongue. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter what you wanted, because you were just some human. Humans were vile, and cruel, and good for nothing but filling their bellies. And this was his family. So what if you claimed you were just standing up for your own brood? It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.
So he turned back to dive into the shallows with as much force as his aching, crippled fins could manage. Sinking to the bottom of the cove in a huff of bubbles and clawing his way through the muck until he was well and truly hidden in the murky, sandy depths. He smacked his tail against the mess of pebbles and rocks until every creature beneath was scurrying for safety—fleeing outwith the flailing, destructive force of a Siren’s tantrum.
Was that why he was here, then? Bound and gagged on some hellhole of an island because of his own mistakes? Because you’d just been aligning yourself with the moral high ground he’d been riding this whole time? Saving your kin at the cost of your own, fragile skin. Dragged overboard to fight the monsters trying to devour your family whole. Ridiculous. He wasn’t going to let himself feel bad for the slighted prey in a hunt gone wrong. Sharks certainly didn’t regret the fish they chased, nor did the great black-and-white whales that pursued those sharks in turn. This was just the way of things, the circle of life. And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about the tight, protectivelook on your face as you shouted him down about defending your own pod at all.
.
.
You were curled up by the same rock the next morning, sleeping soundly against the rough hewn edge. It looked hideously uncomfortable, with your chin tucked up against your chest and your head pressed against half-a-dozen layered, jagged ridges. Vil had always heard that humans were used to luxury—soft, plush blankets made of foreign fabrics and great, stuffed squares of bedding that could put even the finest woven siren nests to shame. And there you were. Scrunched up with a shell clearly embedded in your cheek.
He frowned, fins rippling awkwardly at his sides where the majority were still knotted up in twine.
He needed to leave this cove. As soon as possible. And get away from… all of this.
It generally wasn’t considered the best of ideas to Call openly across the sea. Lone sirens were prime targets for all sorts of nasty scavengers. Human hunters, rival pods, even other rogues looking for a fight. It was dangerous to mark one’s position so openly, let alone in a manner that made it obvious of the less than stellar situation they had no doubt found themselves in. It was also a nasty toll to try and Call so far for so long, on himself and the environment around him. A screeching, horrible thing that he’d only heard a few times in all his years. It was a terrible idea for everyone involved, himself and his fellow castaway most of all. But, well, desperate times, and all that.
Besides, it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear it anyways.
So began his endless song.
He’d sing, and sing, and sing—feeling the ripples of it carrying across the surface of the water and shivering through the air. And then, after he’d worn his throat ragged, he’d pause. Just long enough to swallow around the sting and tilt his head to listen. His fins would flare out against the side of his head, and he’d wait. And then, when there was no answer to his Calling, he’d circle back and do it again. A part of him hoped there would be none. He’d taught his pod better than to do something so foolish—to put themselves at the mercy of all the monsters of the sea. And… if they didn’t answer, perhaps that just meant they were searching for him. Using his own, ridiculous harping to trace him down. And if not that, then at least that they were off somewhere safe. Somewhere far, and hidden.
He swam and sang until he was too exhausted for either. Bound fins a heavy, leaden weight at his hips and head barely cresting above the water.
When the sun set over the horizon, Vil let himself roll in alongside the surf to rest in the sand, boneless and sore. His eyes slipped shut with the encroaching darkness, too heavy to hold open at all. He hadn’t seen much of you today. Occasionally you’d wander down to the shoreline, head popping up over a cluster of rocks to shoot him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but for the most part you’d stayed hidden away. Out of his hair, at least. Perhaps you’d finally learned what was good for you, and that keeping as far away from the beast lurking in the shallows was the only way you’d be getting out of this alive.
And then his eyes were snapping open to a field of stars overhead and the moon hanging fat and low in the sky like a fruit ripe for the plucking.
And there you were, hovering over him with that laughably small knife of yours.
Carefully and gently working the rope away from his tattered fins.
Your fingers were delicate, precise. Every time those woven fibers tugged in a way that could even begin to hurt, you were softening your touch and muttering reassurances under your breath. He wondered if you realized you were doing that at all—chattering quiet, rambling nonsense like a nervous tick. ‘Ack, don’t twitch so much, it’s just going to cut deeper,’ and ‘sorry! Sorry! I didn’t think that would move like that! Just—just stay still and it will all be done way faster and then you can swim off, and—’ You were exceptionally careful over the areas of rough, beaten scales along the dip of his tail, wincing in sympathy at the raw, raw skin there. The blade never strayed anywhere it wasn’t needed, and you never touched any part of him that wasn’t in an effort to work another tangle of knots free.
Vil kept himself perfectly still and his breaths even and deep. He watched you through the low, golden dip of his lashes, eyes tracking your fluttering hands and quiet mumblings.
The last of the rope fell away with a wet, heavy plap in the sand and when you sighed there was a smile in your voice.
“There,” you muttered, soft. “Now he can swim home again.”
He froze, startled, and something dropped low and tight in his gut.  
Because humans were cruel. Humans were food. Humans were nothing more than vermin crawling over the surface of his ocean in their hunkering, wooden vessels and finless feet. They didn’t deserve sympathy, or anything of that ilk. And—
Your gaze met his and the spark of horrified realization didn’t even manage to settle properly in your wide, wide eyes before he had you pinned in the sand.
It was easy—far too easy. Compared to him you were so small, so fragile. No heavy, bulk of muscle and scales to help keep you alive and fighting. Just fragile limbs and lungs that were good for nothing. He dug his claws into your shoulders and felt the warm prick of blood curl up beneath his talons—could see you wince with the first pinch of acrid poison sharpening the wound. He was going to rip you apart, just like he’d said he would. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear him, he’d show you. Because humans were vile, and no matter what you’d claimed, you didn’t deserve anything better than an end beneath the points of his fangs. Fuel for the journey back to his pod and nothing more.
‘There. Now he can swim home again.’
He reeled back, nose scrunching and teeth grinding in his jaw.
You were still beneath him, blinking up in shock but not fighting. Like being flipped onto your back had been startling out of principle, but not unexpected. Like the idea of dying at his claws was just something you’d been expecting from the get-go.
And yet—
‘Sorry! Sorry!’ you’d been rattling. ‘Ah, if you squirm it’s just going to hurt, you stupid, overgrown fish—'
Vil reared back with a snarl that had goosebumps racing all along your arms, and then he was diving back into the shallows—swiping the tip of his fins against your nose as he went in a sharp crack that he hoped would have you yelping and stumbling away from the ocean’s edge.
He paced along the edges of the bay, newly freed fins slowly uncurling in the lull of the tide. And he felt free. Sore, certainly, and aching in ways he never had before, but free.
When he popped his head back out of the water, you were sprawled out in the sand like a dying starfish, absolutely out of your mind and babbling nonsense about ‘captains’ and ‘collars’ under your breath.
‘Good,’ he harumphed, diving back into the shallows to twirl along his unbound tail. ‘Maybe that would teach you to stay out of the water.’
.
.
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hollandsangel · 2 days
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2:15 am | c. sturniolo
HI yes im alive who’s surprised (me, i am)
self proclaimed mayor of the ‘chris can’t sleep alone’ club (doing gods work, you’re welcome)
summary: chris cant sleep & you’re the perfect remedy
wc: 834
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gif by @hotelstares !
you haven’t been asleep very long. maybe twenty minutes or half an hour.
you’re in the midst of a fuzzy dream when your phone starts to vibrate on your dresser next to your bed. the sound is difficult to recognize at first, getting all mixed up with your dream in your mind. eventually it wakes you up, tugging you away from the soft haze you’d been emersed in.
groggily, you reach over for the device, squinting your eyes to try and read the contact. your eyes are bleary, but you’re able to make out your boyfriends name and contact photo after a brief seceond.
“chris?” you wonder through the line upon answering, voice thick with sleep and hardly above a whisper.
“hey ma,” his voice is smooth, like he hasn’t been asleep yet.
“hi…i think i was dreaming about you,” you say as you let your head fall back against the pillow, rubbing gently at your eyes with your other hand.
“yeah?” he says through a deep breath. the smile your confession elicits from him is audible and contagious.
“yeah, either that or i just spent the last four days with you and my brain hasn’t realized we’re apart yet,” you think he must be able to hear your smile as well.
“my brain hasn’t really realized it either,” he mumbles, getting a little bit shy.
you close your eyes, content being soothed by his voice.
“what time is it?” you ask him, even if you could easily look at your phone screen for the answer. opening your eyes feels like too much work.
chris answers of course, without hesitation, “2:15,”
“it’s pretty late, you okay, bub?” you ask him before answering your own question, “can’t sleep?” you know how he gets, always needing someone close by when he drifts off.
you can imagine it’s a bit difficult tonight, considering you spent the last few nights sharing his bed. you’d found it a little harder than normal too, having gotten used to his arms tucked around you, his face pressed against your shoulder blade.
“i miss you,” he mutters and it makes you blush, “and i don’t wanna crawl into bed with matt or nick, i know it won’t help,” he admits, letting out a long breath.
“you wanna come over?”
“would that be okay?” he seems a little bit embarrassed, like he might be inconveniencing you.
“of course, chris,” you open your eyes now, reaching over to turn on your bedside lamp, “i want cuddles now,” you say sheepishly, face still half pressed against your pillow, muffling the words.
“mmk, i’ll get an uber, be there soon,”
“kay, love you,” you sigh, waiting for him to hang up.
“love you too,” he says first, making you smile even if you’ve heard it a thousand times.
in the twenty minutes it takes for chris to show up, you’re drifting in and out of sleep, trying your hardest to keep the lull of exhaustion at bay as you wait, no matter the difficulty.
soon enough, the sound of a key in the lock sends a small jolt of wakefulness through you, and you anticipate the subtle push of the door as he comes through to your bedroom.
“nick or matt’s bed wasn’t good a enough?” you tease, watching him turn a little red as he shuffles into your room.
“i wanted to sleep in your bed,” he mumbles, beanie hanging low and covering his eyebrows, pajama pants hanging lower. he lifts the duvet and crawls in with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms, “nd’ i wanted to sleep with you, not my stinky brothers.”
you laugh, stifling it against the blankets “m glad you’d rather snug with me,”
“you kidding? you’re the best snugger around.”
“i’d say,” you hum, tugging his beanie off and tossing it somewhere on your floor.
he gives you a squeeze before reaching over to turn you so you’re facing him, “thanks for letting me come over,” he mutters, beaming in the low light. he looks so pretty like this, grinning down at you, illuminated by the soft glow of your lamp. he reaches up slightly and brushes your hair from your face.
you have a small moment of realization; he’s admiring you the same way you’re admiring him. you think your heart grows in size, gratitude making it swell up.
“thanks for comin’,” you whisper back, leaning up so your noses touch.
chris closes the gap, giving you a gentle kiss before pulling back and kissing your forehead too.
“night,” he tucks you against him, keeping you close, “i love you,” it’s sweet, how his tone changes. it’s tired now, chalked full of sleep and you can’t help but think it’s because he’s with you now, and that’s what puts him at ease enough to finally relax.
“i love you too,” you whisper into the barely-there space between you, watching as his eyes close and his lashes kiss the tops of his cheeks.
you can’t help yourself, leaning forward just enough to kiss him there too.
.
.
.
.
tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @grimholic @tworosesblackthorn @mattscoquette @dazednmatthews @pinkishpearls
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More security guard!simon thoughts.
He has to wear formal wear at work now. Which he hates- the man always feels constricted by a suit and tie in a way that will never be satiated no matter how much he adjusts his cuffs and the line of poor silk wrapped around his neck.
"For the love of Christ can you stop fidgeting? You're like a fucking child in church clothes." You peer over your laptop with narrowed eyes, letting your gaze focus on the way the fabric stretches over his muscles, buttons almost straining over his chest.
He says nothing. As usual.
"Maybe you wouldn't be so twitchy if you actually wore clothes that fit. You get paid enough to be able to afford a proper tailor.” 
His eyes snap up to your own and you can feel his scowl underneath that stupid mask and can’t find the smile that it brings to your face. Annoying your obliged shadow has become one of the few joys in your day. 
“Don’t need new clothes.” 
“Yeah sure, tell that to the button that’s fighting for its life right now. If that thing flies off and takes my eye out, I’ll sue.” 
“I’m sure you have a lawyer on retainer.” “Several actually. Along with a very talented tailor who has done beautiful work for the past three weddings I’ve had to attend.” 
“All for your father?” 
“And each blushing bride-that-was-once-to-be that still feels the need to send me a christmas card.” 
Simon feels his phone vibrate in the pocket of his slacks. Before he has a chance to reach for it- you confirm his curiosity. 
“You have a meeting with him Saturday morning, he’ll do your measurements and then have your clothes ready for you on monday. I’ve sent the address to you and I expect the next time you come into my office, you’ll look like a normal human being and not a weightlifter stuffed into his old communion suit.” The chair creaks under his weight as he leans forward, eyes narrowing into slits as yours don’t bother looking up from your computer screen as you continue to read whatever fucking proposal you’ve been glued to all morning.
“You know-” He rasps. “I work for your father. Not for you, don’t forget that.” 
Your gaze flicks up to find his own and he’s taken aback by the thin smile that stretches over your face and the smug twinkle in your eye that makes him realize perhaps the two are one in the same. 
“The appointment is 9 a.m, Riley. I’m sure your time in the military has made you quite the early riser.” 
Simon has learned you have an interesting way of always getting what you want, even if you end up hating it in the end. 
Which is how he finds himself standing before a wrinkled old man taking his inseam at 9:30 in the fucking morning- telling him that he should stick to muted colors for his ties from now on. Something like burgundy and dark greens because “she says it’s a complementary color for your eyes and I’m inclined to agree.”
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a story in which katsuki's bratty son tries to blackmail his mother! how terrible
— characters. katsuki, reader, katsuma (the son)
— contents. fluff, katsuma is a little shit
— word count. 600
— authors note. GJFCK MFGVFDXK GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDOMESTICTRASFJNRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGJBJFNVDSLM
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Your son is alot like his father, in good ways mostly.
He stands up for himself at school, and is mostly independent. For the most part, Katsuma was a pretty easy kid.
However, he can also be the most major little shit on the planet, much like in the situation you're in now. He's learned what blackmail is, and he loves it.
You were in the kitchen, baking cookies, when you heard Katsuma’s voice from the living room. "Ma! What's this?" he yelled.
You turned to see your five-year-old holding the pregnancy test you had thrown away earlier.
Oh no.
Your heart skipped a beat. "Katsuma, where did you find that?" you asked, trying to stay calm.
"In the trash," he said with a mischievous grin. "I'm gon' tell Dad unless you give me extra cookies- and I wan' that brand new hero figurine at the store...AND I wan' my own bb gun- AND!!! I wan' a brand new pair of boo-"
"Katsuma." you sighed. You've known your son to be a major handful all his life, but also know realizing he did indeed have you in a tight spot. "Katsuma, this is important. I wanted to tell your dad in a special way."
Katsuma pouted, crossing his arms. "Fine, but I still want extra cookies...and the figure...an' can I still have the bb gun?" You sighed once more.
"Alright, you can have two extra cookies- AND the figurine... but you have to promise to keep this a secret for now," you said, hoping to buy some time.
"Deal," he said, his eyes gleaming with pride.
As you handed him the cookies, you couldn't help but feel frustrated, yet a bit amused. Katsuma was a lot like his father—brash, stubborn, and always wanting to be in control. You watched as he stuffed the cookies into his mouth, crumbs falling everywhere, and shook your head with a small smile.
Just then, you heard the front door open. Katsuki walked in, looking as intense as ever. "What's going on in here, hm?" he asked, sensing the tension.
Katsuma jumped in before you could speak. "Mom's got a secret, but she won't tell me!"
You shot a look at Katsuma, then turned to Katsuki. "It's not like that! I just…I found out something today and wanted to surprise you..."
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's that?"
Taking a deep breath, you decided it was now or never. "Katsuki, I’m pregnant. We're having another baby."
For a moment, he just stared at you, processing the news. Then, a rare, genuine smile spread across his face. it was sadly short lived, and replaced with a smirk instead. "Oh really?".
Katsuma looked between the two of you, his earlier mischief forgotten. "So, does that mean I get a little brother or sister to boss around?"
"Katsuma, you will not be bossing your them around." you said, ruffling his hair. "You have to be a good big brother, okay?"
Katsuma's eyes widened. "I’ll be the best big brother ever! Can I teach them how to play hero games?"
You chuckled. "Sure, but you'll also need to help take care of them."
Katsuki walked over and pulled you into a gentle hug. "I'm really happy, you know," he said quietly. "This is good news."
You relaxed into his embrace, feeling a wave of relief. "I was so nervous about telling you."
He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Why? You know I’m always here for you, no matter what."
Katsuma tugged at Katsuki’s pant leg. "Dad, does this mean we need to buy more baby stuff?"
Katsuki laughed. "Yeah, it does. And you can help pick it out." "Good! Yknow dad...when we go to the store,I wanted to see if you could buy me a new figurine..or a bb gun...or a brand new pair of boo-" "No." "Oh.. DAMNIT!"
The rest of the evening was filled with excited chatter about the new baby. Katsuma kept asking questions about what it would be like to have a sibling, while Katsuki suggested names and joked about teaching the new baby how to be tough like him.
Later, after dinner, you all sat together in the living room. Katsuma was snuggled between you and Katsuki, half-asleep from all the excitement.
Katsuki looked over at you, his expression softer than usual. "You know, I never imagined myself having a family like this," he admitted. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Me neither. We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?"
He nodded, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "Yeah, we have. And it’s only going to get better from here."
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frmisnow · 15 hours
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✧˖ ?! — BIRDS OF A FEATHER.
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summary. a unnecessary fight makes you realize just how much you love your boyfriend!
notes. it should be very evident by now that i freaking love writting fluffy/angsty things from time to time, it's kind of like therapy for me (ESPECIALLY kook) so i rly hope you like this as much as i liked writing it!!🫧₊˚ෆ
warnings/includes. jungkook x non specified! reader (tits mentioned at the end), a bit of angst, they are very in love still (& it's deathly obvious), a bit suggestive, kissing, undressing (?), fluff
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you hated the fact that he was so stubborn, you hated that he always wanted to be right, you hated how he could never leave your side not even once, you hated that he could never shut up- oh how loud of a mouth jungkook had but mostly you despised that he wasn't here right now, in you both's bed.
and you despised how silent this room was now, without his voice blabbering about all the stupid little things he usually rambeled about while you'd try to fall asleep, you despised that you found your mind travelling to the thought of how his day might've been or if the meeting he was stressed about a few days earlier went well or if the coach was uncomfortable to sleep on.
additionally, you firmly hated how there was nothing else in your head then him- it was a sickness that you wanted to get rid off.
But even that would've been a lie, you loved the feeling of love, you loved how whenever you looked into jungkooks eyes your heart pressed tightly together (even if it hurt), you loved how he'd do anything to reassure you, it didn't matter if it was work, your family or your friends- he was always there, there to tell you how 'you'd be fine' and how he 'knows you'll get through this' or how 'proud he was of you'
you sighed deeply, turning around once again if it was jungkooks body on the other side, you would've hugged him, kissed his shoulders and you'd- fuck.
groaning, now deciding to lay straight, looking up to the ceiling, my god- how much you missed him to a level that was practically pathetic.
it was so stupid, the fight you had, you were never the jealous type so you now looking back at it didn't understand why your heart boiled the way it did when you saw one of jungkooks colleagues talk to him like that- maybe it was the way she looked up to him, maybe it was the way her arm layed firmly on his arm almost like massaging his muscles: you remembered how mad you were all of a sudden and how he was defending her during your argument - it didn't help that she was fucking beautiful.
you wouldn't say you were insecure, you knew your worth and jungkook had made it awfully clear how pretty he thought you were but.. man, it still stung.
all the stories you've heard of your friends men cheating and going behind their backs with gorgeous women certaintly did not help and it seemed to be that jungkook was deeply hurt by the fact that you'd assume he'd do something like that.
fuck it.
you tiptoed from the bedroom straight to the living room, finding a rather weirdly curled up distressed-looking sleeping jungkook with a lightly snoring bam on his feet, you got a bit closer to his face, gently removing one strand of his hair of of his face as his eyes slowly opened, the soft smile that formed when you played with his hair earlier, washing away.
you didn't waste even just a second, instantly hugging him, his hands almost mechanically out of sheer response wrapping around you, "i'm sorry," you mumbeled against his chest, shifting further onto him, you wanted to be as close to him as physically possible.
jungkook didn't hesitate either, his hands finding themselves quickly entagled in your hair, oh so gently running through, "i know why you felt the way you did and... i'm sorry too"
you lifted up your head just slightly to kiss a few moles on his neck very delicately like he might just break in the next few seconds, "please come back into our bed and talk me stupid"
he let out a little genuine laugh, "there's nothing I'd rather do- i could've never imagined how uncomfortable this coach was, we need to get a- mmh-" you cut him off by kissing him, his hands instantly cupping your face as you both waddled back to your bedroom, in a mix of making out, groaning and little chuckles.
"i missed you," he mumbeled as his own hands wandered to your velvet pj shirt, "and i missed these tits, very much"
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the next few hours were sleepless, you didn't close your eyes even once, you couldn't believe that you hadn't really looked or listened to your dearest in like two days so now was the perfect time to do just that.
anything- from his meeting to what he had been having for dinner for the past two days and every so often he'd lean down to kiss your face, his hands staying tightly intertwined with yours.
and you'd smile right into his kisses and when you'd smile, he'd follow and then you'd both laugh at your own corniness, way to loud and way to much.
"i don't wanna go to work tommorow," his voice whined right after the both of you finished giggling, "then don't," you shifted closer to his face, placing a few pecks on his lips to highlight your point.
"it doesn't work like that," he grinned, his eyes half-lidded while his hands reached out to your face almost like he was high, you tried your best to avoid his fingers that were desperatly trying to squish your cheecks, "who decides that?"
you bop his nose in the process as jungkooks arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you even closer to him, mumbling something about, "what if i just magically get sick right now and I'd just have to call in sick... and spend the whole day with my girlfriend, what if that happened?"
you were certaintly in for a treat.
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actiniumwrites · 1 day
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hii may i request a hurt/comfort scenario with kazuha and alhaitham where reader feels insecure about their looks >< no need to specify what they feel insecure about specifically but they just don’t think they’re pretty enough for charac !!!
worthy
synopsis: you don’t feel good enough for them. they beg to differ.
characters: kazuha, alhaitham x gn!reader (separate)
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, insecurity, crying, some humor, not proofread
notes: thanks for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy this, i really liked how kazuha’s turned out. alhaitham was so difficult to write for this prompt though 🥲
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Kazuha:
You don’t know when it started. When, one day, your brain decided to make the shift from feeling the luckiest in the world to feeling utterly trapped. Maybe it was the way people looked at him, or maybe it was the way you never felt deserving of him in the first place, but either way, it didn’t matter.
It started in little things. Most days it just consisted of you wallowing in your reflection anytime you caught a glimpse of it. A passing moment of painful recollection that makes you feel less than deserving of him.
“Are you alright?” your boyfriend blurts out randomly. It isn’t like him, you think. Kazuha has never been the type of person to waste his words so suddenly without thought. His words are usually sugar coated and flow gently in the wind so as to not evoke harsh emotions.
The question makes you visibly pause. Quietly, you clasp your hands together to stop them from the inevitable shaking. Your shoulders seem to droop a little further and he hates the way your bottom lip dips into a depressing tremble.
“I’m sorry,” you exhale defeatedly, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth.
“What for? I don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong,” his gentle white brows furrow. You hate how concerned he looks. Couldn’t he just be angry for once? At least then you wouldn’t feel so insane.
You bury your face in your hands, trying to shield yourself from not only him, but the entire world. It constantly feels like you have prying eyes on you, tearing apart each and every feature on your body. And, just as you predicted earlier, the tears you’ve become long acquainted with begin to make their way to the forefront of your eyes until they’re too heavy to hold.
Kazuha gently pushes your hands aside, instinctively placing them in your lap so he could wipe away your sadness. Still, you hang your head against your aching chest and let the pain seep out through your voice, “Don’t you hate it? The way I look? Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Bother me? No. Of course not. I love everything about you. I could gaze into a thousand sunsets and the view still wouldn’t be as alluring as you are. There is no amount of stars in the beaming night sky or the deep red of fresh autumn leaves that could compare to you. Every time my hand aches to write a piece of poetry, it longs to write about you.”
You bashfully look away, trying to hide the smile appearing through your frown as you gaze out into the field next to you. Tenderly, Kazuha tilts your face back toward his as his ruby red eyes stare intensely into yours. You look back and forth between them before laughing quietly through your tears.
He hums proudly, shaking your shoulder a bit before leaning in to place a quick kiss to your lips, “and don’t try to deny it. You know every word I speak is nothing but the truth. I would never lie to you, honestly.”
Your eyes soften as you look at him, understanding now that your boyfriend is right. You’ve read his writing enough to know that whatever Kazuha found to hold truly beautiful was indeed actually beautiful. Because, in a world full of subjectivity, his word is like the law.
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Alhaitham:
Alhaitham is practically flawless in all ways. It’s something you’ve realized long before you began dating him — began being friends, even. Aside from his harsh personality, he’s handsome, intelligent, a good leader, and so much more.
It makes you question why he’s even with you. Most of the time, you only joke about it with him and sometimes he even laughs about it. But there are the times where it isn’t just a passing comment or silly thought in the back of your mind, but rather, a growing virus that spreads a dangerous, lingering toxin throughout your body.
“Is something the matter?” Alhaitham nudges your shoulder quietly from beside you. He’s nice enough not to embarrass you in front of the group, shockingly. Despite being his partner, he didn’t often spare you of his “cruelties.”
Your eyes snap to his and out of the faraway place of insecure thoughts you were trapped in for a moment. Silently, you nod and return to listening to the group of people presenting a project to Alhaitham for approval at the Akademiya. His eyes continue to linger on you for a second, not buying any lies you might make up to make it seem like you’re okay. As apathetic as he may be, Alhaitham has indeed found a place in his heart to care about you.
But you can’t help but feel insecure as you watch them. All of them are so attractive and everyone in the room looks so drawn to them, eager to get a word in after. It makes you wonder what Alhaitham even sees in you. A man like himself, he could have anyone in the world.
“I could.”
“What?” your head snaps to him in terror, whispering a little too harshly, “did I say that out loud?”
“No. I can read minds, so I know what you’re thinking,” your boyfriend says blankly. You stare at him in sheer panic before the tiniest of smiles breaks out on his face, “I was joking.”
You frown and shove him ever so slightly away from you, “Yeah, well you sure have a funny way of showing it.”
Alhaitham takes one step closer to you than he had before, assuming the position he was in before you pushed him away. Only this time, he gently loops his arm with yours, something he only does when he feels a little more like showing affection. He isn’t the most physically affectionate, but you know what he means by it.
“I’m serious. I know that look on your face,” he whispers from next to you before turning to actually face you, “I could have anyone in the world, so why do you think I chose you?”
“Out of pity? I mean, look around us. I’m not exactly the best looking here,” you mumble, attempting to fight off the growing lump in your throat. So maybe Alhaitham isn’t so perfect, because you sure as hell hate the way he shows comfort.
He sighs irritated, “No, you idiot. Pity is a form of emotion I’ve never felt for anyone, not even you. You’re above the rest of them, so don’t doubt it for a second. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be standing here with you right now.”
“You’re so mean, you know? You don’t have to put other people down just to make me feel better,” you say, fighting a smile. He really should’ve taken a class on human emotion back in his scholar days.
Alhaitham turns away from you now, facing the presenters and ignoring your defense against his words, “I only speak truthfully. You are the only person in all of Teyvat that I want. You can choose to believe it or not, but that’s factual information.”
He’s right. Alhaitham hates lying because he sees no point in it. It’s something he’s told you a thousand times, maybe even more.
“Will you say it then?”
You still don’t believe him anyway.
He quirks a brow, “Say what?”
You hold onto his arm a little tighter, afraid he might slip away from you. That bit of doubt still lingering in your mind, “That you think I’m…you know…?”
Alhaitham sighs but gives in regardless. Staring you dead in the eyes with no room for any semblance of a lie, he whispers quietly, “Yes, I think you’re the prettiest person in all of Teyvat.”
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 2 days
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tags: ex!husband gojo x reader, gojo and reader both have a 3 y/o, flashback to making out, slight angst, satoru's father being on our side (maybe?), mentions of children, satoru slightly jealous, satoru and reader co-parenting
wc: 2.3k
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
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You want the ground to eat you alive when you see your ex-husband, satoru making pancakes with your daughter as he once promised the night before. Saori, your three-year-old, is innocently unaware of the sexual tension from last night; mesmerized by the array of toppings in front of her.
“I, uh...” you feel awkward for intervening during this father-daughter moment. “If you need me, I’ll be taking a shower.” you add, “be good with papa, saori, ok?” when you see the two of them nod, like spitting images of one another, your cheeks tighten. making you turn your heel to the bathroom.
“make a heart for mama,” you hear your daughter giggle as your ex-husband's voice instructs, making you sigh as you’re already at the bathroom’s door.
(flashback from last night):
You don’t know what pulls you in, but you kiss him. hungrily. feverishly as your lips move against his as if he were yours, something you had decided to allow yourself to have. just this once. Satoru instinctively kisses you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist so as to not let you go. as if you would evaporate into thin air like smoke. he had to keep you with him, couldn’t let you leave. he didn’t want you to, not with the way you kiss him, the way your pretty fingers glide along his undercut just the way he likes it as your fingertips tug on his hair making him see stars. Your ex-husband takes the chance to press you against the wall. placing his thigh between your own, he allows his hands to travel up and down your sides, making you shiver ever so slightly as you pull him closer. the familiar heat and throbbing sensation within you pull him closer, not caring if you’d burn in the process. “Satoru...” you sigh against his lips. I want you. It’s a game of tug and pull, your mind urging you to him as he does nothing to pull back. and suddenly, you're reminded where you are. who you’re with, why you’re here, and the situation between you both makes you feel all the shame you would. you can't do this. you can’t call him yours, can’t murmur those three words, can’t do what you’d imagine in the late hours of the night. not when he's this close and this real to you. he wasn’t yours, and the realization was as bitter as your departure. “I have to go,” you exhale, pushing him away. no matter how weak your push was, satoru is off of you in an instant. pupils blown and lips swollen as he watches you walk away. heart and mind throbbing as he’s too dizzy to do anything. he’s frozen. unsure of what’s happened between the two of you. so he lets you go. even if he doesn’t want to let you. you force yourself to walk to your room where your daughter peacefully sleeps, closing the door behind you as you lean against it. eyes shut as you wrap your arms around you, releasing a small sigh of what feels like mixed want and possibly regret. what the hell did you just do?
When you return from your shower you find your daughter happily aid her father in setting up the table.
“mommy!” you daughter calls you, ecstatic over the pancakes set in display on the table, “say good morning to daddy!” and for a moment you want to slap yourself for educating your child so well. teaching her to always greet everyone with kindness. waving to satoru feels like a royal obligation before he simply waves back, resuming his attention to your daughter, explaining the different toppings he’s sorted out on the table. he whispers something to her. "... and have mommy choose her own toppings, 'kay princess?"
princess. you suddenly feel hot as you look away. grateful your daughter and ex-husband were too busy on the plates to notice you walk towards the kitchen, oddly reaching for a cold glass of water instead of coffee.
"everything okay?" you nearly jump, noticing your husband walk behind you. he reaches for a tablecloth inside a nearby cabinet.
"y-yeah, just a bit dehydrated." you explain, "your father's party will be inside, correct?"
"yes." satoru replies, "he mentioned something about having an indoor bouncy house. probably for all the kids coming."
"I didn't know you could do that, have them inside, I believe. bouncy houses were normally always outside when I was a kid. that or establishments would have them indoors."
"yeah, well I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'm pretty sure my dad just made the arrangments inside so saori won't get sunburn. the weather forecast for today says it'll be warmer than usual."
"yeah," you chuckle dryly. "must be why I need more water." you awkwardly raise your glass a bit before looking over your shoulder, watching how your daughter neatly picks her strawberries, decorating them around her plate. "she seems to be having fun."
"yeah," your husband turns as well, "that's the goal, isn't it?"
you nod.
"we should probably join her." you say, walking past him, "wouldn't want her to feel too alone, would we?"
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"are you still trying?" satoru is suddenly pulled from his thoughts by his father who holds his daughter, smothering her in affection while your ex-husband watches you across the room laugh politely at something higuruma, his father's soon-to-be lawyer, says. too close for his liking.
"yeah," he murmurs, slightly annoyed. he quickly offers you a carefree, reassuring smile when you turn to see him, eyes looking for your daughter as you stand across the room. relax, he tells you with his smile, she's fine.
your motherly stare and sigh makes his stomach swirl, shortly before you've returned to converse with hiromi while satoru turns to his father. "sorry, what did you say?"
"I said," his father enunciates, "this is my favorite grandchild."
"well, she's your only grandchild."
"I know, and I should blame you for these shortcomings. I thought I'd have another by now. it's one of the things that is wrong with your generation, your perception of divorce. when I was your age, marriage was forever. through thick and thin. not this." and satoru can only sigh, reminiscing of times where he too thought forever was with you.
(flashback):
"sounds like somebody loves me." "somebody does," satoru grins, tightening the grip around your waist as the two of you lay in soft sheets, away from the world in a last-minute romantic weeklong getaway trip. he smiles, "and somebody said yes to marrying me. lucky girl." "is she?" the humor in your tone makes him laugh. "I don't know... I think she's very brave to do that, sacrificing herself, what a hero." he chuckles, "maybe... maybe she deserves a statue? a medal?" "a bracelet would be just fine after that ring you just got me." you grin. "silver or gold?" "oh, you know me. white gold obviously." "I know. I just love that look in your eyes when I do that to you." "do what?" "mess with you." "you're so mean." "I know, but you love me." "unfortunately," he dramatically gasps at your word, making you stifle a laugh. "I'm kidding, satoru. just... be nice for the rest of the night. will you?" "can do, princess," he grins, "want me to get you that new purse you saw at the mall the other day?" "you don't have to buy my feelings, you know." "I know, but I like making you feel like you can get anything you want. especially from me." he kisses the top of your head, "that's my job." "and mine?" "to love me, of course. and to feel loved." "anything else?" he hums. "maybe give me a baby. if we're both ready, that is." "you really want one?" "with you? of course. not to mention you'd look beautiful all swollen..." he kisses your cheek, "...sensitive..." he kisses your chest, squeezes your hip, "godly... and they say women have a pregnancy glow." "mmm... what if I don't have a glow? what if I'm all-" "impossible. you already have a glow. always. pregnant or not. besides, how could I not worship you when you're carrying my child? you're doing the most important job of all, and I'd love you regardless. baby or not." "you're doing too much satoru." "mm... that's because I love you." "you do" you whisper, cupping the back of his head, fingers between his locks as you pull him closer, "so so much."
(flashback):
"do you think we'll last forever?" you ask, softly above a whisper in the comfort of your shared bed. it had been 3 days since your arrival to tahiti, a week-long romantic getaway where satoru proposed on your first night of arrival. too lovesick to wait. as you're laid at his side, satoru takes your hand and kisses your fingertips, lazily at the back of your hand. "why do you say that?" he tries to mask his tone with humor, "already having second thoughts after I proposed?" "no, no. not at all," you blush, "I just... I worry, is all, satoru. you know how things happen." "you know they can't go wrong. not when I love you like this," he says, rising up to place soft kisses behind your ear, "not when I've proposed already. even my dad knows, you know. so it's serious." "he... he does?" "of course," he holds back a laugh, "he mentioned marriage the minute you left, first time he saw you." he chuckles, "even the stars might be in our favor. everyone might as well be." you hum, holding him close as you nod, mindlessly basking in the warmth he gives you. "are you having second thoughts?" "no... just... worried for the future." you admit, "sometimes... I feel like I'm dreaming when I'm with you. like I'm bound to wake up and all that I've grown to love will one day disappear." you chuckle nervously, "sorry. it's the nerves." "we'll be fine," he reassures you, "and don't apologize. this is probably my fault for not reassuring you enough. so why don't you lay back and enjoy yourself while I make my future wife feel good, yeah?" he kisses the crown of your head, "it's about time I please my girl, mm?"
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not much happens that day. saori's grandfather treats you kindly as possible, and as much as you try to deny it, you suspect he's upset with satoru over something. you worry it must be about him staying over with you, or the fact that he has a girlfriend and he stayed over his ex-wife's. you worry his father might see you differently, but the man treats you all but the same. taking time to ask what saori's interests have been now that she's older. satoru's father makes a mental note, keeping his granddaughter's interests as ideas for future gifts. the man held some likeness to satoru; he loved giving gifts. it was one of the few things that tied father and son alike.
"how has he been with you, now that you're co-parenting?" your father in law asks. from a distance, you watch satoru nod at something nanami kento, the finances leader department chair, says. the two of them were moderate friends. you'd known since he was invited to your wedding. it wasn't until after your divorce that you've stopped speaking with him. your social groups have all shifted as a result.
"he's been fine," you tell him, "we... we try to be flexible about it. I don't want us to be like most stereotypical divorced parents. making our child choose one or the other or imposing damaging habits," you say, feeling yourself go on autopilot as you hold your daughter. she seems to be wanting to take a nap. "satoru and I try to make it work."
"forgive me for asking," your in law gently intrudes, "but... what of his mistress? has he-"
"-he's been doing his best," you tell him. "he... I don't really get into his other personal affairs, but..." you bite the inside of your cheek and swallow, feeling dryness in your throat. "he seems to be serious with her."
"and... do you mind?"
"I worry about saori." you tell him. "all I care is about her. I just..." you sigh, trying to find the right words, "I just worry about her one day feeling like she was the spare child, or her feeling cast aside." you furrow your brows. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do as a mother, and I don't know what satoru plans to do either." you pause. "I just don't want to overwhelm him, I suppose. with work, being a dad, and navigating a relationship, I..."
"you worry about making him feel like he's got too much on his plate."
"yeah." you exhale, "the last thing I want is to distance us more than what we are." following your eyes, your in law speaks.
"I understand your concern. from what I've known, my son was always in love with you, and I'm certain he still carries some of that love for you and your child. my question is, would you consider starting fre- oh," your in law pauses, surprised to greet his son. "you've returned."
"it's almost 3." satoru says, turning to you, "saori's nap time. has she...?"
"she wants to, but she's kind of struggling with the ambience of so many people around her..."
"I can take her to bed," your ex-husband suggests, "my dad has a private room above this floor. we can have her rest there."
"then I'll go with you," you say, standing as you carry your daughter. "I'm a bit tired myself, if that's alright."
"no, yeah." your ex-husband thoroughly nods, motioning you to join him, "I'll show you where, yeah? I suppose I could also use the minute. this room feels a bit stuffed," and when you turn to face your in law, you note he's already gone. wondering if he's left to talk to another executive or grant his son a minute alone with his ex-wife in hopes of...
"just follow me," he says, and you do.
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hemmingsleclerc · 2 days
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One last time┃charles leclerc
summary: What do singers usually do when they are in a complicated love situation? They write songs, but what happens when you write a love song for your best friend who turns out to be Charles?
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ִֶָ 𖥔 ゚˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ゚˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨ִֶָ 𖥔 ゚˖ ⊹ › ‹
Y/N was backstage, her heart beating hard and irregularly. The crowd outside screamed with excitement, eager to see her. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen out of her hair as she tried to calm down by taking deep breaths.
Y/N and Charles had been best friends since they were children. Growing up together in Monaco, they shared dreams, secrets and countless memories. While Y/N once dreamed of becoming a great singer, Charles dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver and they both achieved it, becoming successful people in their respective careers. Despite their busy lives, they always made time for each other no matter what.
Charles had been Y/N's rock during her great and fast rise to fame. He was the one who kept her feets on the ground, reminded her of who she was before the fame, the cameras, and the anxiety. Y/N, in turn, was his person, cheering for him in every victory and comforting him in difficult moments. Fans adored their friendship and often believed there was something more between them. But for Y/N it was a bittersweet reality. She loved Charles deeply, but he only saw her as her best friend or at least that's what she thought.
Recently, Charles was rumored to be dating a new girl, Alex. Y/N was happy for him, really, but every photo of them together felt like a dagger in her heart and a deep part of her was jealous of that girl, ¿What did Alex had that she didn't? Charles used to speak wonderfully about Alex in interviews when he was asked about her, but it was the way he talked about Y/N that made fans believe she was his true and only love. His words were filled with warmth and affection that left the fans wondering if Charles himself realized what he truly felt.
Y/N sighed, putting those thoughts aside. Tonight wasn't about her heartache. It was about her music and her fans. She took a deep breath and took the stage, being greeted with a sea of ​​applause and shouts. She smiled, waved and began her set. The night was intense but she enjoyed every second of it.
As the concert neared its end, Y/N took a moment to speak to the crowd. “The next song is very special to me and it's brand new,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. "It's called 'One Last Time.'" Fans screamed out of excitement, not knowing the meaning of the song and the inspiration behind it.
The music began to play and Y/N closed her eyes, gathering the courage to sing the song without her voice breaking.
''I was a liar, I gave into the fire, I know I shoulda fought it, At least I’m being honest''
The fans quickly took out their phones and turned on their flashlights, making the atmosphere more nostalgic.
''So one last time I need to be the one who takes you home, One more time I promise after that I’ll let you go, Baby I don’t care if you got her in your heart, All I really care is you wake up in my arms, One last time I need to be the one who takes you home''
That night she sang about unrequited love, about wanting one last moment with someone who didn't see her the way she saw him,no matter how much she longed for it.
''And I know, and I know, and I know she gives you everything but boy, I couldn’t give it to ya. And I know, and I know, and I know that you got everything but I got nothing here without you, baby''
When she reached the last verse, tears flowed from her eyes and her voice broke without being able to contain it.
When the song ended, Y/N stood there, tears streaming down her face trying to wipe them away. The silence was deafening and then erupted into a wave of applause mixed with screams from the crowd.
''Thank you LA, I love you, see you next time!'' and with that she left the stage
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ynln
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Liked by taylorswift,charles_leclerc and 3,583,852 others
ynln tonight in LA was 🤯💓✨🌙⚡!!!! I love you all in that crazy crowd tonight, got a little emotional over there but anyways 🤣🤣 -see you soon I love u
username IF U CRY I CRY GIRL
username my baby 😭😭😭
username I love u so much yn
Backstage, Y/N wiped away her tears completely, trying to compose herself. She knew the Internet would be full of speculation. While she was on Twitter that same night after making her Instagram post, she saw fans discussing her set. #OneLastTime and #Y/NCRIED trended, with thousands of tweets expressing concern and love for her. Many fans speculated about the meaning of the song and some even guessed the truth: that it was about Charles.
A tweet caught her attention. It was a video clip of her singing her last lines, with tears streaming down her face, with the caption: “Her heart is broken and we all know why. Charles, my boy, pls open your eyes.”
Y/N's breathing hitched as she read the answers. Fans overwhelmingly supported her and expressed their belief that Charles was the one for her. As she put her phone down, a message notification appeared. It was from charles.
''y/n we need to talk. I saw your concert. Call me when you can pls. – C.”
THE DRAMA!!!🫠
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yandereend · 3 days
Text
Yandere pretty boy
inspired by Dorian Gray
TW: typical yandere stuff, pretty boy, Dorian likes being mean
Please keep in mind that English is not my native language thank you 💛
P.1/? let me know if you want more
He was utterly beautiful, the kind that takes your breath away and makes you hate yourself. The kind that you envy and would kill to be like. The kind that everyone loves but nobody likes. The kind of man that is obsessed with himself.
Dorian was perfect he would describe himself as nothing less than that.
His blond hair framed the delicate features of his face and made his hazel eyes shine like the sun. His toned body was described by his admirers as breathtaking. And his deep voice sounded like that of an angel or an prince.
He was the most popular guy in school and had a group of fans in almost every class. When he was a junior seniors asked him out and now that he’s one himself he rejected everyone who ever asked him out. Everybody hoped to be his first.
Since even if he seemed like a player his standards were too high to be one. He saved himself up to find the perfect match for himself that would rival his beauty.
But now that his senior year was halfway finished he wondered if the right person would ever came. His father would always encourage him to keep on looking for the one, like his father did with his mother.
And thats when you came into the picture. You didn’t have high expectations for your new school, you just wanted to find friends and get decent grades. And everything went surprisingly well until you got asked out by the most magnificent man you had ever seen. You knew Dorian since you shared a few classes with him where he did nothing but stare at his phone (and you).
So you quickly went from the new student to the partner of the most popular guy in school. Many wondered what was so different about you when Dorian rejected everyone else. But Dorian knew, in his eyes you were as beautiful as him, and after he got to know you better after a few dates he finally realized what people meant with „what’s on the inside matters“.
You were more beautiful than him, of course not on the outside because let’s be honest nobody is. But your character was better than his, you are nice, empathetic, friendly and every other positive trait he could think of. And he wanted to reward you.
So he talked with his father and decided to take you to your new home.
You didn’t expect much when he invited you to his house, especially not the biggest mansion you have ever seen. But it wasn’t the outside that caught you off guard, it was what was inside.
Before every window was a thick curtain so that no sunlight was visible inside.
On every wall where either pictures of Dorian and a beautiful woman or mirrors. They were big and small, and you felt like they were following your every step. Dorians room was no different being filled with mirrors and a giant portrait above his bed. The picture of Dorian Gray.
You like it, my angel? He asked seeing you staring at his portrait, while hugging you from behind.
It was made on my 18th birthday to capture my beauty forever.
You looked in awe at the sheer beauty infront of you. So you were surprised when Dorian pulled you out of his room and you went to a separate one.
It had no windows and the only thing in it was a portrait of a family. You felt hypnotized by the sight. The woman in the picture even outshined Dorians beauty
Thats my mother.
The toddler which you made out as Dorian had a lot more cuteness to him than Dorian had now with his more often stern expressions. Just the man stood out like a sore thumb with his just average appearance.
You look just like her. He said like in trance.
You were so enamored with the picture that you didn’t realize that the servants threw away all your belongings which you brought with you and locked all the doors.
You were captured by the most beautiful man, with the darkest desires.
💛Thanks a lot for reading, feel free to share. I don’t think I ever had more ideas to write in a story 💛
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zepskies · 16 hours
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Something Real
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader
Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…
AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6.3K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.
Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️
🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist
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“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.
The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile. 
The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.
“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.
“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied. 
This, from the man who storms burning buildings.
You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest. 
“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.
It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out. 
“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go. 
“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.
Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.
Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism. 
“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.
“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”
“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”
You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.
“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”
Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting. 
“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile. 
“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.” 
Dean hummed again, raising his brows.
“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.
You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.
“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”
Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own. 
“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”
His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.
It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given. 
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Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool. 
Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room. 
“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”
But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him. 
“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through. 
“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed. 
You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door. 
“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”
Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”
“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.
“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said. 
They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.
It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.) 
Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already. 
You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night. 
“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.
At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.
“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”
You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness. 
“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.
Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.
“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”
You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.
Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…
Your newfound family. 
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The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.
By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.
The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before. 
However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.
It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public. 
You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door. 
“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”
“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled. 
“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”
You had to laugh.
“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.
You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.
You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag. 
“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile. 
“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool. 
There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.
You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.
“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said. 
Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool. 
You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.  
Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks. 
“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow. 
“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said. 
You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”
Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand. 
“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.
He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.
Dean could see there was something off with you, though.
“You okay?” he asked. 
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”
Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you. 
One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about. 
He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.” 
You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”
Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man. 
“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”
After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear. 
“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”
Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding. 
Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.
Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage. 
That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”
You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention. 
Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.
Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”
He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.
“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt. 
Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”
“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.” 
You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off. 
You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.
“Thanks,” you whispered. 
He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”
You smirked and twined your arms around his neck. 
“I prefer Captain,” you said.
Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”
“I really do,” you replied cheekily.
After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear. 
“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm. 
You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family. 
Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm. 
You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go. 
You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth. 
You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms. 
Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.
Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.
“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.
“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.
“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him. 
“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.
“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning. 
You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.
“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”
At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”
You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.
“Yes, you do,” you agreed. 
Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing. 
“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”
Dean was quiet for a beat.
“How long then?” he asked.
“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment. 
“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”
The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.
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Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.
“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”
You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile. 
“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.
Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”
Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.
That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.
Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.
“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”
Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.
“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”
Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.
She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.
You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…
“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.
“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.
She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours. 
“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”
It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.
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As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry. 
Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.
Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.
When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.
“What do you think?” you asked. 
Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you. 
“Damn,” he said lowly.
You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.
“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand. 
“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.
You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”
Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.
“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.
He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”
You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.
“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.” 
Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard. 
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said. 
“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”
He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. 
“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.
“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”
Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”
You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”
And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself. 
“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.
“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said. 
“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.
“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”
Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.
“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.
You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.
“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.
Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.
“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled. 
“I’m counting on it.”
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You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake  to make up for it.)
You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror. 
He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.
“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement. 
Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind. 
“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”
Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”
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“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly. 
The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.
“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.
“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”
You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”
“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”
You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.
“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.
“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”
Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while. 
Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche. 
A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind. 
“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked. 
“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”
“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks. 
He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”
“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”
Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him. 
Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast. 
He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex. 
“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now. 
You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead. 
“Come on,” you whispered.
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When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.
He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water. 
Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.   
In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts. 
He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.
He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”
“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was. 
Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand. 
You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”
“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.
You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body. 
But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit. 
“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you. 
“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.
You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”
He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone. 
And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him. 
“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls. 
By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss. 
“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked. 
You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever. 
“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”
Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.
“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.
To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants. 
“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss. 
Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light. 
A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow. 
A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone. 
Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job. 
Now, he had an actual future to build with you.
And he was more than ready to get started. 
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AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥
(Also, just to let you know, this sequel story might be made into a podfic, so stay tuned if that interests you!)
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161 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 18 hours
Note
Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)
It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!
And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
The friend
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Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.
To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.
It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.
Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.
Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.
Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.
Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.
Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.
When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.
~~~
"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.
Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.
"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.
"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.
Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.
"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.
The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.
"He's the idiot who let you go."
~~~
Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.
"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.
Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.
"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.
Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.
"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.
"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.
"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.
"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.
Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.
"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."
~~~
Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.
Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.
She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.
Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.
She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?
"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.
"I never fell asleep," she whispered
The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.
"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.
"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.
"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.
"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.
"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn
"Do you know who it is?"
"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere
"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek
He nervously laughed
"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.
"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.
"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.
"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged
"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.
"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.
"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.
"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."
Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.
"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye
It was Eddie
Eddie had a crush on her!
"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up
But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.
After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.
Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.
Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.
"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.
"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs
"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded
"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123
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asidian · 2 days
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I've seen a lot of really excellent analysis on Charles' reaction to Edwin's confession, but there's a huge aspect that I haven't seen talked about at all yet. And that is, namely:
Charles Rowland is a people-pleaser.
Doesn't seem like there's a connection there, does it? Have a seat, my friends. Let me break this down.
The show lays the groundwork for this aspect of Charles' personality early. It's one of the very first things we learn about him, in fact. He's kind and agreeable and helpful, and he's always, always smiling. When Crystal insults him, he laughs it off. When Crystal and Edwin fight, he scrambles to diffuse the situation. He calls himself "a good sort of a chap," and it's important to him that he is.
In episode 3, we find out why. At home, love was always conditional for him. He spent his entire life trying to please his father, and he confesses to Crystal that no matter how nice he was, or how good at sports, it was never enough. That's how Charles sees the world. If he can make people happy, he might actually be good enough for them to love him.
Not only didn't he earn his father's affection, he didn't even manage, in his own eyes, to clear the low bar of being good enough to earn the privilege of not being hurt. And his mother, he says, was "quiet." From the flashback we see, she never stepped in for him or defended him. However hard he was trying, it wasn't enough to get her to intervene on his behalf.
So who else does he have? His "friends"? The ones who literally murder him when he steps in to stop them from doing a terrible thing? The act he put on wasn't enough to win them over in the end, either. However friendly he was, however personable, they turned on him and left him for dead.
Then he meets Edwin.
And when he meets Edwin, he's at his absolute lowest. He's not smiling and putting on a show, for once. He's in a corner of an attic cowering while he slowly freezes to death. But here comes Edwin, offering him kindness, and company, and comfort.
All these things that Charles has spent his whole life chasing, trying to be good enough to earn? Edwin just gives them to him.
Of course he stays with this boy. Edwin is there when he's lost in the dark, shining a light to guide the way. Edwin has seen him unsmiling and afraid, not a shred of his usual act in place, and Edwin has offered him kindness anyway.
So they begin their time together. And what are the things Charles will pick up on almost immediately?
Edwin says right away that he's spent ages in hell. He's plainly had an awful time. He doesn't know how to handle people anymore, but Charles, he knows how to be amiable, how to smile, how to offer levity when things get grim.
So he does. He falls back into what he thinks Edwin needs, the way he always tried to be what his father wanted to see. In the very first episode, he tells Crystal, "I try to be extra happy for all of us, don't I? And I do a pretty good job."
He doesn't ever discuss his own trauma because these boys are terrible at communication, but more than that. He doesn't ever bring it up because he's busy being the support he thinks Edwin needs.
And importantly, Charles doesn't have the self-reflection skills to realize that's what he's doing. Crystal clocks him with shocking accuracy, three episodes in. "He's been hiding it from you," she tells Edwin. "Probably been hiding it from himself." She's spot-on here: when Charles doesn't want to examine his own emotions, or can't face them, he shoves them down under a smile and he carries on pretending.
But that's not the only thing Charles will have picked up on from Edwin.
It's blindingly obvious that Edwin is bad at people. He's terribly repressed. He's from a culture in which emotional honesty and physical affection were not valued or encouraged. But more than any of that, Edwin has his sexual awakening during the events of the show. Before then, he is absolutely clueless about his own wants.
So we have a situation where a consummate people-pleaser who has spent his entire life learning that he has to earn affection finds his way into a friendship with the first person who ever saw him with his mask down and gave him kindness anyway.
Of course he stays with this boy. Of course he wants to keep this.
And what's the best way Charles knows to win someone over? Well, by being what he thinks they want.
So, out come the smiles, for Edwin's sake as much as his own. But more importantly, out comes whatever Charles thinks he needs to perform, in order to keep what is the single most important relationship in his entire life and afterlife.
At this point, Edwin has shown zero romantic or sexual interest, not just in Charles, but in anyone at all. He doesn't especially seem inclined to dating, or to romance, or even to physical affection.
So Charles takes his cues from Edwin, and the cues are very firmly, for thirty years: this boy doesn't have a glimmer of interest in him, not that way.
Fast-forward to the events of the show. Fast-forward to a staircase in hell, where they are being chased by a literal demon. Suddenly his best mate, who he has spent thirty years with, who is his most important person in the world, is saying that he's in love with him.
Of course he needs a minute. Of course he has to sort that through. Any feelings he has for Edwin are things that he has spent literal decades firmly ignoring in the scramble to try and earn affection by being what he thinks Edwin needs him to be.
Because Charles is a people-pleaser at heart. And he may be dreadful at self-reflection, but he is aces at hiding things from himself.
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dotthings · 3 days
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Behold, a master tightrope walker at work. While being clear how deep the love goes. That part isn't danced around. Yet this was vague and open-ended as Jensen could manage as to the exact nature of the love from Dean's end.
No amount of shouting from whatever stans will turn this into definitive slamming of a door. Jensen's still threading that needle about Dean, while he said that Cas's confession being romantic is "clear text" not "subtext."
None of this surprises me. It's been self-evident for a while (except to grudgewanking arbitrary naysayers) that Jensen is 100% in support of gay Cas in love with Dean. Jensen's just opening the faucet more letting those views pour out.
"Dean was sitting there on the floor and realized that he -- he had not only lost a brother-in-arms but had also lost one of his closest -- the closest people to him. And I -- you know I've said that when you find your people it doesn't matter who or what or where or why or when they are, you find your people. And they found each other"
The annotated Jensen Ackles:
(1) "brother-in-arms" -- even if someone wants to try and forcibly limit Dean and Cas to that term, brother-in-arms, as has been pointed out many times, has connotations not limited to platonic meanings, in ancient epics, in modern media, in music, in actual historical figures. But limiting to that term isn't even what happened here, since Jensen says "not only lost a brother-in-arms but..." There is no way out of this. Master stroke. He boxed the naysayers in but good. Let them spin in place.
(2) "had also lost one of his closest -- the closest people to him" -- Jensen stopped himself and changed what was likely "friends" to "people" and I'm not insisting on anything as to why but it sure is fascinating that he swerved and went with a less definitive word. Dean and Cas are best friends, that's canon, but if that's the limit, why swerve from saying friends? They are friends. That's true no matter what. This therefore appears to be about keeping things open ended. For now, Jensen doesn't want to tip his hand too far.
(3) "when you find your people it doesn't matter who or what or where or why" oh that's open-ended af. Thank you Jensen. Keeping the doors open wide enough to drive a semi truck through.
(4) "you find your people. And they found each other" -- somebody hold me that's beautiful. I have not much analytical to say except that sounds like another instance of keeping definitions of the relationship open-ended. But mostly I wanted to have another nervous breakdown again. Jensen said Cas is Dean's people. And they found each other. *UGLY SOBBING*
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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days
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Hi! I really love your writing 💖
Can I request fluff with Eddie Munson x reader?
He has a big crush on her, but he's very shy. Also, he has never been known for affection with his friends, so they rarely even hugged.
But one time at a party, the reader realized he's a big cuddler while he's drunk.
Some time later, Eddie would love to cuddle with her again but he's too shy, so he pretends to be drunk and giggly again. 😅
Can we get a happy end, please? 🙏
Thank you so much! And aww, this is such a cute idea!
shy!eddie x extroverted!fem!reader
cw: mention of alcohol, both reader and Eddie are drunk
It was no secret that Eddie had a huge crush on you. Even though he was very shy, the heart eyes that would form in his eyes when he looked at you were so obvious to everyone. Even you. And you liked Eddie too. How could you not? He was always so sweet and caring and never failed to know what you needed.
You wanted to tell him that you felt the same way, but you felt like you should have let him take the reins. You hoped that he would eventually be comfortable enough around you to tell you the truth, but you had been hanging around him for six months and nothing. He wouldn’t even touch you which you knew was because of his trust issues and you were willing to help him through it.
You showed up to Steve’s party with the sole intention of finding Eddie. He had told you he was going to be there which you found odd since he didn’t really care for being around that many people at once. You had no idea what that was like, but you sympathized.
You grabbed a drink for yourself and made a beeline for the curly mop. He paused mid conversation and pulled you in for a tight hug which caught you off guard since that was very abnormal for him. He arms wrapped around your waist tightly, burying his face into your neck.
Turned out that Eddie just needed a few drinks in him to be down to cuddle. He held onto you the whole night, his face buried in your neck while he occasionally pressed kisses to it. You loved seeing that side of him. The physically affectionate side of him that had no probably holding onto you tight.
Although, you felt bad that he felt like he needed to get drunk in order to hug you. You hoped that he knew that he could hug you whenever he wanted and didn’t need to drink to do so. You guys were friends and despite his nervousness around you sometimes, you hoped that he knew that you’d be there for him no matter what.
After the party, Eddie found himself pretending to be drunk just to get cuddles from you. At first, you played along, but over time, you were getting tired of the act. You were going to finally tell him how to felt to finally put a stop to the madness. You thought that maybe if he knew that you felt the same way, he’d stop.
You both were lying on your bed and Eddie was acting like a fool once again. He was all giggly and mumbling in gibberish which were the telltale signs that he was faking. Enough was enough.
You pulled him into your arms and he snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You ran your hand through his hair while pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“I really like you,” you told him and he just snuggled further into you, letting out a contented sigh.
“I like you too.”
“No, Eddie,” you pulled his face away from your chest and forced him to look you in the eye. “I like you.” His eyes went wide and his mouth was agape at your words. He didn’t see that coming at all. “So you can stop pretending to be drunk just to cuddle me.”
“You knew about that huh?” He let out a nervous chuckle.
“I know everything,” you smiled. “So are you going to be my boyfriend or not?”
“Oh, I’m so going to be your boyfriend.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek then snuggled into your chest once again, the two of you falling asleep peacefully know that you were finally together after months of dreaming about it.
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Text
accidental confessions
how the bluelock men would confess to you
includes: sae, nagi, rin
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sae itoshi
sae didn't mean to confess, he really didn't. it was purely accidental. to him, in a world full of football and being the best there wasn't any time for love.
but you were his manager (sneek peak into an upcoming fic btw), you dealt with him so kindly, despite his temper tantrums and attitude worse than a teenager who had a bad day. so how was he supposed to not fall for you?
so when you were scolding him for not paying attention and being distracted be it listening to what you were saying or just being "out of it" in general, he snapped.
it was late evening after a particularly intense practice session with the team, but sae, of course stayed back, he was having a shitty week, both in and out of practice, he would himself distracted very often, but he didn't know others could notice it, not until you approach him. "sae? it's getting late you should probably head back" he stops dribbling the ball to stare at you with a deadpan expression as he curtly replies with a "no", now that was annoying, you couldn't exactly leave until he did, him being distracted all week was not only a hindrance for him, but for the entire time and you. "for god's sake stop acting like a child sae and just go home. you've been distracted all week and because of that not only you but the entire team and me had a shitty week, so please just go home and rest."
that caught his attention, as he suddenly halts. he didn't like any part of what you just said. was his performance so lackluster that everyone was hindered? well now he had to do something about this crush, didn't he?
"well, i'm sorry that i fell in love with you and now you won't fucking leave my damn mind and now i'm fucking distracted almost always because all i can think about is you. i didn't mean for this to happen either but i can't do shit about it."
now this was all confusing to you, because THE itoshi sae loves you? and you're on his mind 24/7? you're the reason he's distracted? there were so many questions running through your head. "you what...?"
"i said it once and i won't say it again. it doesn't matter anyway." he grabbed his duffel bag angrily slinging it over his shoulder heading out of the field without doing his usual routine.
doesn't matter anyway? how was he so wrong? was he that oblivious that he didn't notice your feelings for him?- were all the thoughts that ran through your head. before sae could go any further, you catch up to him "you're stupid. you're so so so fucking stupid, and very rude."
stupid? rude? what did you mean? what did he do? he knew you didn't feel the same but how was that rude? wasn't he understanding?
"i find it so incredibly rude that you think i'm not head over heels with your oblivious ass. are you a brick or something? because you're dense as fuck." you breathed out, looking straight at him, though his back was facing you.
he was overwhelmed, the itoshi sae was overwhelmed. the impossible thought of you liking him back was possible and very real? he slowly turned to face you, not realizing just how close you were standing. "tell me you aren't joking, because i swear if you are-"
he got cut off by a kiss. it took him a moment to realize what was going on but once he did he pulled you in closer. as you pull away from him and ask him "enough proof for you to know i'm not joking?"
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nagi seishiro
nagi believe everything was a pain, waking up in the morning, going to school, any and every "normal" task was a pain to him. but not you, talking to you wasn't a pain, going out to a cafe with you wasn't a pain; being with you wasn't a pain.
so of course, nagi fell for you, hard and fast, but how could you blame him? you were so understanding and kind to everyone that it was impossible not to love you and nagi being nagi wanted to ask you.
it was finally spring. warm weather was approaching, beautiful cherry blossoms were in bloom, and couples were everywhere. nagi thought it was the perfect time to confess to you.
so when he saw you during lunch break talking to some of your friends near a vending machine smiling so brightly, your sweet giggles ringing in his ears, he swears he fell in love again.
your friends being the oh-so-amazing wingmen they were, excused themselves the moment nagi approached. your heart beat loud and fast. it was scary, being alone with nagi, you didn't know why you felt this way but you did.
it was hard not to fall for nagi, he was just so adorable. it was no secret that nagi was a prodigy, his talents knew no limit, but that didn't make him a show off. no, he was still a genuine and overall an amazing person.
nagi unknowingly trapped you between him and the wall, his hand next to your head, he looked down at you with a small smile. "can you wait for me after school near the gate? i need to confess to you."
you were dumbfounded, he said that so confidently, you doubted if he knew what he just said. "nagi.. just repeat what you said"
he was confused, why did you ask him to repeat as he replays what he told you in his mind, he realized that he technically just confessed right now, a soft "oh" leaves him as he realizes.
"well you should still wait after near the gate, i'll take you on a date."
and without any further explanation he left the scene, console in his hand heading towards where ever reo was.
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rin itoshi
rin was a soft person, before spain, rin was the sweetest you, never once did he ever hurt you, physically or emotionally. why would he? you were his bestfriend, the one person he cherished along side his brother.
but that all changed after the incident with sae, it was like someone did a whole 360 on his personality, he was cold, aloof, egotistical and extremely competitive.
he didn't care about anyone or anything, all he wanted to do was beat sae and isagi. he didn't take care of himself and that was worrying. because all he did was practice.
you welcomed yourself into the itoshi household, you could say it was perks of being next door neighbors and family friends. you greet rin's mom and head over to his room like you usually did, sometimes he'd come from practice when you were there, sometimes he wouldn't. however today was different, because the moment you entered his room, you see rin focused on the screen infront of him observing a match.
it was concerning and it didn't help that you didn't know how long he had been sitting there, staring at screen.
"rin?" you call out his name, knowing he wouldn't really give a reply just a hum of acknowledgement that your in this room. usually you would have given up and just sat there doing your own things but today you were persistent.
"rin? can you atleast look at me?" he turns his head around annoyed that his concentration was broken "what?"
"for how long have you been sitting there?" you sit down on his bed facing him with a questioning look on your face.
"how does it matter? why are you even here?"
that pissed you off. the questions 'how does it matter' or 'why are you even here' pissed you off, but it didn't only anger you, it hurt you. you were his bestfriend. of course it mattered, and you were there because you cared and it hurt because now it felt like this "friendship" was one-sided
"i'm here because i care rin, why else would i be here?"
"since when did you fucking care?! even if you do, i didn't ask you to care for me, don't be surprised when you're getting ignored by me."
"since fucking forever you stupid dunce, maybe i fucking care about you because i'm in love with you, but the way you're behaving makes me feel like you don't give two shits about how i feel and maybe you don't, but i care about you, and maybe that's my biggest mistake."
was all he heard before the door slammed, he didn't know why but he chased after you. to him there was no time for romance or love if you want to become the best, but when he heard those words coming from you, that was a wake up call for him. he grabbed your hand right before you reached the porch of your house.
"i love you" he didn't know why he said it, he didn't know what else to say, he didn't know what else to do but just say those three words and hug you, and when he did, he knew he meant those three words more than anything else in his life.
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ALSO LMK IF I SHOULD MAKE A PT.2 OF THIS
sigh this took alot longer than it should have and this was pretty hard to write because of the dialogues and i find it to be awkward but hopefully it's still fine and you all like it. i know rin's part wasn't him confessing but instead the reader confessing but whatever.
also to the anon that had requested a certain fic, i'm working on it, it may take a little while longer, so i wrote this in the meantime so i had something to post.
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cheoliehansolie · 2 days
Text
Rainy Days
Summary: Your plans for the day are canceled when the weather takes a turn, but you and your boyfriend manage to turn it around.
Word Count: ~1.5k
Pairing: Mingyu x gn reader
Warnings: None, but y/n is written to be smaller than Mingyu
Author's Note: If you like reading this, make sure to reblog! If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask 💕
To read more, check out my masterlist
---
You woke up this morning to the warmth of your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you and the sunlight streaming in through your windows. It was the first Saturday in a while that you had no plans and you were definitely going to take advantage of the nice weather to run some errands.
You quietly separate yourself from the sweet, sleeping man next to you and slowly make your way to the bathroom, trying your best not to make any noise. Once you showered and got ready for the day, you headed out to the kitchen to make yourself a quick breakfast. You’re hoping that you can go get some grocery shopping done before the love of your life wakes up from his slumber.
Just as you finish eating your breakfast, the once sunny atmosphere becomes extremely dark. Okay, a little bit of clouds won’t be that big of a problem. I can still walk to the grocery store and be back soon.
Your optimistic thoughts are immediately shattered when you hear a loud crack of thunder and the intense downpour of rain outside your apartment window. Okay, I guess that means no grocery shopping for today. 
Realizing that you’ve been up for too long to go back to bed, you decide to clean up your kitchen a bit. While cleaning, your eyes fall on the fruit bowl sitting on your kitchen counter. You were going to replenish it with some new produce when you went to the store, but it’s apparent that that’s not going to happen today. The bowl is almost empty, except for some brown bananas that you knew no one would eat. Almost as if a lightbulb goes off, you decide to give up on cleaning and in favor of making a fresh loaf of banana bread. The best way to spend a rainy, gloomy day is by baking, isn’t it?
So, you rush around your kitchen grabbing different utensils and ingredients to make the delicious treat. You need to remind yourself to be a little quiet because even though your boyfriend can sleep through a thunderstorm, he’s immediately woken up by the promise of food. You grab your headphones from the kitchen table and start playing your rainy day playlist while you move around the kitchen.
While you’re mixing the dry and wet ingredients together, you feel a pair of strong, familiar arms wrap around your waist. Jolting at the sudden contact, you set down the mixing spoon and pull your headphones off.
“Babe, you can’t just sneak up on me like that. What if I had a heart attack?” you whine as you struggle against his grip to turn and face him, but to no avail as you’re essentially trapped in his arms. You can feel his chest rumble against where it’s pressed against your back and can feel his warm breath hitting your neck as he chuckles slightly at your antics.
“You know, I wasn’t quiet when I came out here. I walked into the kitchen table but you didn’t hear me because you had your headphones on.” Mingyu says matter-of-factly as he pulls his face away from your neck so you can hear him properly.
“Okay, then I guess that’s my bad.” you say with a small laugh. You realize that Mingyu isn’t letting you go any time soon, so you get back to mixing the batter in front of you.
“What’re you making?” Mingyu asks as he looks over your head to see what’s in the bowl in front of you.
“Banana bread. I was gonna go grocery shopping, but it started raining the second I was ready to leave so I decided to bake.” you say, finally satisfied with the consistency of your batter but unable to move to grab the baking pan.
“You should’ve just come back to bed.” Mingyu whines behind you as he rests his head on yours.
“I would’ve, but I’ve been awake for too long that I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Besides, now you can have fresh banana bread for breakfast.” you say, trying to sneakily find a way out of his arms. 
“Aww, thank you baby. That’s so thoughtful of you.” he says as he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. “But I would’ve loved cuddles in bed just as much as fresh banana bread.” he says, squeezing you tighter as if he knew of your plan to escape.
“Cuddles can be arranged.” you say with a small giggle as you continue to struggle against his arms. Unable to find a way out, you say “I’m gonna need you to let me go so I can put the batter into a pan and bake it, you know that right?” tapping his arms to get him to let you go.
“I don’t want to. Can’t we just get it together?” he asks, pouting at you. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you relent and try your best to maneuver around the kitchen with your much larger boyfriend weighing you down. 
Although you put on a show of being bothered by how clingy he can be, both you and your boyfriend know that you love it when he’s attached to you like a koala. It makes your heart swell and your stomach explode with butterflies when he makes it so apparent that he likes being near you as much as you like being near him.
Once you’ve finally gotten back to the counter with the baking pan, you decide that if Mingyu’s going to cling onto you he might as well be useful. 
“Babe, can you hold the bowl while I scrape the batter into the pan?” you ask, turning your head to look at his face.
“Of course, baby.” he says as he unwraps one of his arms around your waist and grabs the bowl full of batter. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
You grab the spoon and give him a small nod, “I’m ready.”
Mingyu watches you as you diligently scrape the remaining batter from the bowl not wanting to waste any of it. Once you’ve gotten all the batter off the bowl that you can, you take the bowl from Mingyu’s hand and place the spoon in it.
“Babe, do you think you can let me go now? I have to put this in the oven and I don’t want either of us to get burnt.” you say gently, even though you don’t want him to let you go either.
“Fine.” he says, giving you a final squeeze and letting go of your waist. Your body immediately shivers at the loss of warmth Mingyu was providing you with so you rush to put the pan into the oven so the two of you can be reconnected as soon as possible.
Setting a timer on your phone to remember to take the bread out of the oven, you turn to where you left Mingyu just a few seconds ago and you find him cleaning the small mess you made while baking.
Taking this as your chance, you rush behind him and wrap your arms around him to cuddle against him. Leaning your cheek against his back, you feel so content just standing around your kitchen with him in your arms that you feel like you could stay like this forever.
You silently trail behind him as he makes his way around the small kitchen, hardly paying you any attention. After a few minutes, he’s deemed the kitchen clean by his standards and he abruptly turns in your arms to face you.
“Hi.” he says with a small smile on his face as the two of you finally face each other for the first time today.
“Hi.” you say with a love struck smile on your face.
“If I remember correctly, someone promised me cuddles earlier.” Mingyu says with a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“Well, we have another 45 minutes until the banana bread’s ready so we might as well kill time.” you say, the smile from earlier still gracing your features.
“That’s not nearly enough time.” Mingyu whines as he pulls you close.
“Then you better get to it.” you said, enjoying teasing your boyfriend.
“Yeah, I should.” he says and before you could even register what was happening, your feet are off the ground and Mingyu’s carrying you to the couch in the living room.
You let out a squeal of shock as your much larger boyfriend manhandles you into cuddling him on the couch. Mingyu grabs a blanket from the edge of the bed and drapes it over the two of you and he pulls you into his chest.
The two of you cuddle together in silence as Mingyu plays with your hair and you draw shapes on his taut abdomen, the only sound being the sound of rain pattering outside. Before you realize it, you’re drifting off to sleep in Mingyu’s arms and before you could fully be pulled under the sea of sleep, you can’t help but think about how much you enjoy laying here in his arms.
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