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theostrophywife · 4 months

Text

dress.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: dress by taylor swift.

author's note: can't stop thinking about that anon that called me out on being feral for theo yet soft for my baby boy cutie pie sweetie enzo. they were so right, but can you blame me? enzo is the pretty boy. he invented baby girlism.

“How do I look?”

Beautiful.

Breathtaking.

Devastating.

Enzo blinked away the words that materialized in his mind, shaking off the thoughts that he had no business thinking about his best friend. His honey eyes darkened as you descended the winding staircase, the billowing skirt of your ball gown kissing the checkered floor of your family’s mansion.

The pretty lilac shade complimented your complexion, making you glow underneath the crystal chandelier. Every curve draped in luxurious velvet fabric, like temptation wrapped in a pretty little bow just to torment him.

“Earth to Enzo,” you teased, poking at your best friend’s shoulder with a gloved finger. “Have I lost you?”

Enzo sucked in a breath, relishing in the sight of you. “Sorry. You look…” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “You look stunning, Y/N.”

Your smile nearly took his breath away. The action lit up your entire face, crinkling the corner of your eyes in the most endearing way. Enzo was entranced as you straightened his tie, pinching his cheek because you both knew that he secretly loved it.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Berkshire.” The playful tone of your voice made his heart skip a beat, the steady rhythm echoing in his ears as Enzo offered you his arm. “The girls will be envious of my handsome escort.”

“I think they’ll be more envious of that dress,” Enzo murmured softly. The smooth, low cadence of his voice flowed through you like honey. “I don’t think anyone will be able to keep their eyes off of you tonight, love.”

Including him.

The ballroom was filled to the brim with guests from the sacred and influential families, the women dressed to the nines in silk, lace, and velvet, their ears and wrists and necks dripping with diamonds. The men wore impeccably fitted suits with watches and family heirloom rings that cost more than a year’s worth of wages.

All around the room, attendees nursed their cocktails and indulged in the impressive spread of hors d'oeuvres, whispering excitedly about the grandeur and opulence of the ball your family hosted every year, but he barely picked up on their conversations. Enzo smiled and nodded politely, but his attention wasn’t on any of them.

Instead, the entirety of his focus fell on you. Enzo watched as you chatted and charmed the crowd, even going so far as gaining a slight smile from his surly uncle Lucius, who was notoriously unimpressed by anything and everything. Your best friend was entirely convinced that you could’ve charmed the feathers off of a hippogriff.

“What a delightful girl you are. Exactly the type of lady young Lorenzo should be courting.” Lucius drawled. “Draco would do well to follow his cousin’s example.”

Narcissa smiled. “I’m afraid our son is too late. These two are quite smitten with each other already.”

Neither one of you corrected the couple. There was truly no use. Despite the countless attempts at clarifying the nature of your relationship, the adults still assumed that the two of you were together. Sometimes it was just easier to play along. Enzo had no complaints. Especially not when you placed a kiss on his cheek and nodded in agreement.

“Can you blame me, Mrs. Malfoy?” You teased, winking at Enzo. “Lorenzo’s quite the catch. Anyone would be lucky to have such a perfect gentleman by their side.”

Enzo tried not to blush as Lucius and Narcissa nodded in approval. Luckily, his aunt and uncle moved along, allowing you to greet the other guests. Throughout the night, Enzo stayed by your side, chiming in when needed, refilling your drinks when you ran out, and feeding you appetizers in between breaks. The rest of his friends teased him for it, but Enzo was perfectly content with playing the part of escort.

“Mother was right. Y/N has every male in here eating out of her hand,” Draco said, looking over at you in appreciation as he took a sip of champagne. “Can’t blame them. That dress is something else. She looks proper fit.”

“You don’t stand a chance, Malfoy.” Mattheo scoffed as he popped a bacon wrapped fig into his mouth.

Theo nodded in agreement, eyes glazed over from the smoke break that he and Mattheo took in the gardens earlier. “Blondes aren’t Y/N’s type.” His mouth quirked as he glanced over at Enzo. “Isn’t that right, Berkshire?”

“You lot are insufferable,” Enzo said with an eye roll.

He glanced over the top of his champagne glass, smiling softly to himself as he watched his mum fawn over you. She often joked about taking her engagement ring out of the Gringott’s vault despite the fact that Enzo repeatedly told her that the two of you weren’t in a relationship. Along with everyone else, his parents seemed convinced that the two of you were meant to be.

“What’s the matter, cousin? Jealous that Y/N might take a liking to me?”

“She’d sooner snog a rat,” Enzo replied sarcastically.

“A ferret is close enough, isn’t it?” asked Regulus.

“Malfoy might stand a chance after all,” was Tom’s deadpan response.

Mattheo chuckled. “Good one, brother. Come on, lads. We should let Enzo get back to his date.”

With a sigh, Enzo downed his champagne glass before rejoining your side. You were in deep conversation with his parents, but broke out into a goofy grin the minute you caught sight of him.

“There’s my handsome date,” you exclaimed. “I must say, you raised quite a gentleman, Mr. and Mrs. Berkshire. I couldn’t have asked for a better escort. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he looks quite handsome in a suit.”

Enzo flushed as you straightened his tie. His father smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “I reckon Lorenzo gets that from me.”

“No doubt, Mr. Berkshire. All the ladies seem to think so. Perhaps I should stop hogging him to myself and give the others a chance.”

“Try as you might, Lorenzo only has eyes for you, dear.” Enzo groaned, blushing at his mum’s embarrassing statement. “What? It’s true. You two make a beautiful couple.”

Enzo was about to correct his mother for the millionth time, but you simply slipped your gloved hand through his elbow and smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Berkshire. We clean up rather well, don’t we?”

You giggled as Enzo turned red in the face. Completely unaware of his desire to melt into the marble floor, his mother flashed you a pleased smile. “There’s no need for formalities. I insist that you call me Helene. You’re practically family at this point. Though I do hope my son will add you into the Berkshire brood soon enough. Speaking of which, what is your ring size, dear?”

Never in his life had Enzo felt so mortified. It was one thing to have the adults mistake you for a couple, but to have his mother imply marriage was an entirely different beast. One that Enzo had no plans of tackling tonight.

“That’s our cue for a dance. I think you’ve kept our gracious host long enough, mum.”

His mother started to protest until his father placed an arm around her shoulder. “Now, now, my love. Let the children be. Plenty of time to discuss serious matters during Y/N’s next visit, which we hope will be soon. Our grand piano has been feeling a bit neglected lately and we have missed your lovely rendition of the classics.”

“Well we certainly can’t have your Steinway sit idle for too long. I promise to come by for tea before term starts.” You kissed both of his parents on the cheek. A friendly gesture that he had never seen them engage in with any of his friends. “It’s always a pleasure, Helene and Henry. Now if you’ll excuse us, Lorenzo and I are about to put those waltz lessons to good use.”

Enzo’s father clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t let this young lady get away, Lorenzo.”

The tips of Enzo’s ears went positively red as his parents departed. “Sorry about that. I’ve tried to tell them that we aren’t dating, but as you can see, it’s fallen on deaf ears.”

You grinned, reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “It’s alright. I truly don’t mind. Your parents are quite charming. Clearly you inherited that trait.” You rubbed at the kiss print you left behind and giggled. “Now, I believe you promised me a dance, Mr. Berkshire.”

Enzo smiled, his arm already circling around your waist. “I always keep my promises, Ms. Y/L/N. Prepare to be swept off your feet, love.”

Time seemed to still as Enzo escorted you onto the dancefloor. You beamed at him, curtsying with a silly grin while he bowed in return. The two of you waltzed together as the live musicians played a soft and slow tune. Enzo couldn’t help but admire you as you twirled around in your pretty lilac dress. A few curls fell out from your updo, sweeping against your rosy cheeks while you fell into step with him. As he held you tightly against him, Enzo hoped to Merlin that the music was loud enough to drown out the rapid beating in his chest.

Deny it as he may, Enzo knew deep down that his heart only beat for you anyways.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur. Ever the gracious host, you personally said goodbye to each guest until the last person left the manor. Given the late hour, you insisted that Enzo stay the night, a request that was quickly turned into a command by your parents. They adored Enzo as much as you did, perhaps even more. Though he doubted that their affection would remain the same if they knew the filthy thoughts that plagued him every time he stayed over.

“C’mon, Enz,” you said, tugging at his hand. “Last person up the stairs has to pick up croissants in the morning!”

Enzo chuckled before breaking into a sprint. You squealed as he gained in on you, gathering your dress up in your hands while slipping your heels off and making a run for it. You nearly tripped on the taffeta, but luckily Enzo caught you around the waist and hauled you over his shoulder.

“I guess we both lose, honey.”

You giggled as Enzo marched into your room before discarding you gently on the four poster bed. He smiled as you sprawled out on the mattress and dragged him down beside you. Scooting up against the pillows, Enzo traced the initials that the two of you carved against your bedpost when you were ten.

“Do you remember the day we carved those in?”

Enzo nodded. “The summer before our first year at Hogwarts.” He smiled as he recalled the memory. “We were both so scared of being sorted into different houses, but you said that if we carved our initials together, then nothing would be able to separate us.”

“Mum and dad were furious,” you said with a chuckle. “But it was worth it. Ten years later and it still stands true. If we’re lucky, it’ll last for an eternity.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Enzo declared. “I’d still be by your side even when the carvings fade.”

You smiled softly and turned over to face him. Enzo brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, those honey eyes flickering with emotion. “Do you really think so? What about when we both get married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate me hanging around, Enz.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Enzo countered confidently.

You traced over his dimple, memorizing the feel of his skin underneath your fingertips. “How can you be so sure?” you teased.

“Because you’re the only one I could ever picture myself marrying.”

The gravity of his words settled between you. Enzo almost wished he could take it back if not for the relief that flooded his entire body now that he had spoken his true feelings out loud. After years of silence and patience, of pining and anticipating, of hands shaking from holding back from you, Enzo felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Whether or not you returned the sentiment mattered very little to him. All Enzo knew was that he loved you and he could no longer sit here and pretend that you weren’t carved into his heart and soul like a golden tattoo.

“Lorenzo,” you whispered softly. If it were anyone else, Enzo would’ve loathed hearing his full name, but the moment you said it, everything just stopped. “I don’t want you like a best friend.”

His heart stopped beating. “Do you mean that, Y/N?”

“Of course I mean it,” you affirmed. “You’re my favorite person. You’re not only my best friend, but you’re my lifeline. We’ve seen each other through the best and worst of times and somehow we haven’t grown sick of each other and I don’t think we ever will. You’re the only person I see myself marrying too, Enzo. You’re my one and only.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that,” he whispered softly, noses brushing close. “Though it’s not nearly as long as I’ve waited to do this.”

You held your breath as Enzo leaned forward, closing the gap between you. The space that signified the boundary of your friendship was nearly nonexistent now, filled with longing looks and shaking hands. Your eyes fluttered close as soon as your lips met.

With a shaky exhale, you melted into Enzo’s arms as he clutched you close. One hand weaved around your waist while the other cupped your jaw. You sighed into the kiss, relishing the feel of his lips against yours. Enzo tasted like champagne, making you dizzy with the sweetness as he deepened the kiss. You giggled as Enzo tugged you into his lap, tracing your fingers over the initials on the headboard before tangling them in his hair.

The feel of Enzo was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. This was your best friend. You knew every scar and mole and freckle by heart, but the soft sighs and plush lips were an entirely new experience that you longed to explore.

“I wish you hadn’t waited so long,” you whispered against his lips. “We could’ve been doing this all along.”

“We have all the time in the world to make up for it, my love.” Enzo caressed your cheek with such tenderness that it made your heart ache. “Do you even know how hard it’s been to hold myself back? How many times I’ve had to physically restrain myself from kissing the breath right out of you this night alone?”

“You’re not alone in that. You look so damn good in that suit, it should honestly be considered a crime.”

Enzo chuckled as you straightened his lapel. “If this suit is a crime, then that dress would land you a cell in Azkaban. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire night.”

“Good,” you said with a cheeky smile. “I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”

Those innocent honey brown eyes darkened as Enzo toyed with the strap of your dress, kissing every bit of exposed skin available to him. “Allow me to do this properly, then. Now that I have you, I intend to savor every smile, every touch, and every kiss you give me.”

Anticipation hung heavy in the air as Enzo tugged at the laces of your dress, carefully unraveling you like his own personal gift. He helped you wriggle out of the purple fabric, sliding the dress down over your body with such gentleness and care. Your lips met once more as you slid off his jacket, your fingers making quick work of the button shirt underneath as well. When both of your clothes were piled up on your bedroom floor, Enzo lifted his head up to properly look at you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he drank in the sight before him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Enzo breathed, his voice full of awe and wonder. He tugged at the ribbons in your hair, setting your curls free.

Tenderly, Enzo laid you back on the mattress and captured your lips with his. As promised, he took his time exploring every inch of your body. Slender fingers caressed your skin, eliciting satisfied sighs while Enzo lavished you with kisses. He groaned as your fingers tangled through his hair, pulling him impossibly close until you couldn’t tell where you began and he ended.

You moved as one, the trust and care evident between you and Enzo. He knew you better than anyone. Knew all the quirks and flaws and oddities that made you you. Enzo knew how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to look at you in a way that made you feel like he truly saw you.

Enzo pressed his forehead against yours. “We don’t have to rush. I’m perfectly content to wait until you’re ready.”

It was sweet and such an incredibly Enzo thing to say. Even after waiting all this time, all he cared about was that you were comfortable.

“I think we’ve both had our fill of waiting.” You smiled up at him, cradling his jaw. He leaned into your touch like he was savoring every bit of affection he could get. “I’ve never felt more ready for anything in my life. I trust you more than I trust myself. I love you, Lorenzo Berkshire.”

The smile on Enzo’s face was blinding. It was like feeling the sunshine on your skin after years in darkness. It was golden.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Enzo confessed. “I think I’ve loved you even before I knew what love was.”

“My one and only,” you whispered, peppering kisses along his jaw. “My lifeline.”

With heartbreaking gentleness, Enzo wrapped your legs around his waist. Honey eyes latched onto yours as he hovered over you, his astute gaze flickering over your face as he eased into you. Enzo was slow and gentle, giving you time to adjust to his size and brushing your hair out of your face while lavishing you with luxurious kisses. You moaned into his mouth as his hips met yours, feeling full and content, like joining your bodies together in this way was the most natural thing in the world.

“Look at me, honey. I want to see those pretty eyes.”

Your eyes opened to the most beautiful sight. The candlelit room cast a hazy glow over everything, bathing Enzo with its soft golden light. Your chest tightened as you admired him, fingertips grazing the curve of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones, the cheeky dimples that you loved so much, the perfect aquiline nose, and the dark lashes framing those mesmerizing eyes. In the dim light, they looked like pools of honey and you felt like a fly swimming in liquid gold.

“You’re beautiful too, Enzo. Like a work of art,” you beamed as he flushed. “My pretty boy.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. Not unless you want this to be finished quicker than it started.”

You chuckled. “Is that so? Have I found your weakness?”

Enzo groaned, shifting his hips in a way that had you moaning underneath him. “You are my weakness, my love.”

“Yeah?” You asked, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist and rolling your hips against his. “Show me how weak I make you, pretty boy.”

The precarious thread of self control that Enzo was desperately holding onto snapped. With a roll of his hips, he set a pace that had you clawing at the sheets. He chuckled darkly as you clambered for control, nails raking at his back before finding purchase in his hair. You tugged hard, desperate for more.

“Oh god, Enzo.” You moaned as he slammed into you, feeling boneless as he silenced your sounds with a filthy kiss.

“You wanted to see what you do to me?” Enzo teased, gripping your hips to hold you in place while he slid all the way out. The head of his cock barely brushed your cunt and you ached to feel all of him again. You whimpered in response as he teased you, taunted you. “You drive me fucking insane, Y/N. I think about this, every second of every day. You’re all I want. You’re all I need.”

“So have me,” you breathed. “Have all of me, Enzo.”

You groaned as Enzo slammed back in. It felt good to be full of him. It felt right. You murmured as much into his mouth, canting your hips to his as he raised your arms above your head and twined your fingers together. In that moment, there was nothing in the world but you and Enzo—the boy you loved making love to you.

Despite the lust swimming in his eyes, something softer reared from underneath the surface. A look that Enzo had given you countless times over the years. A look that was pure love and adoration. Your heart swelled as you squeezed his fingers.

“I love it when you look at me like that,” you whispered.

“Like you’re my whole world?” Enzo murmured against your lips. “You are, you know.”

You kissed him, slow and deep. “You’re mine, too.”

“Don’t take those pretty eyes off of me, honey.” Enzo said as he pushed your body to the brink of pleasure. “I want to watch you come apart for me.”

“Together?” you asked, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

“Always,” he responded.

Enzo pressed your forehead against his, slipping past the edge with you and indulging in the sweet ecstasy of your bodies fitting perfectly together. The orgasm rocked over you first and you panted into Enzo’s mouth as he watched in awe. His own pleasure took over after a few more thrusts, your name falling sweetly from his lips as he chased the high.

Neither one of you made any indication of moving. You were content feeling the full weight of Enzo’s blissed out body on top of yours, smiling to yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. He sighed happily against your neck and cuddled closer.

Enzo took your hand and kissed your fingertips. He intertwined them through his, squeezing gently as he examined your hand.

“Four and a half.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s your ring size, isn’t it? I’ll have to tell mum. We’ll need to get her engagement ring resized.”

You chuckled. “Engagement ring? You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. Now you want to jump to being my fiancé?”

“Well, girlfriend is certainly not strong enough to describe who you are to me,” He said, kissing your ring finger. “I prefer the love of my life. My future wife and the mother of my children. Though I suppose I’ll settle for fiancé.”

“Will you at least let me get used to calling you my boyfriend first?”

“Fine,” Enzo huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You can call me your boyfriend. For now.”

“How generous of you, Mr. Berkshire.”

You grinned and pulled him in for a kiss. Enzo nuzzled his nose against yours, looking down at you with those innocent honey eyes. “I’ll show the future Mrs. Berkshire how generous I can be. Then you’ll be calling me your husband in no time.”

“I like the sound of that, pretty boy.”

#you guys don't even understand how much i adore best friend enzo friends to lovers is his trope #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire smut #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire fluff

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bvidzsoo · 2 months

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Sweeter than honey

🧸Husband!Yunho🧸

TW: none, just so much fluff I'm dead

Word count: 1, 3k

A/N:....guys, it's Pisces season and I'm going crazy, don't mind me if I pump out little blurbs this whole month (someone save me). So, this is a little bullet point like scenario, I hope you enjoy it! (I got inspired in THE MOST randomest way this time, it's embarrassing.) I hope you enjoy and feedback is very much appreciated! Enjoy now!

where do I even begin...

there was not one boring day with your husband, Yunho, and your little girl

those two were like little rascals when nobody was watching them

and yes, you loved both to death, but there were times when they got to you

their energy levels were unmatched, and at times you don't know whether you should cry or laugh that your little one takes after her father

a miniature copy of Yunho

the same smile, same happy and playful aura, same mischievous look on her face when she's up to no good, and same devastating puppy eyes when she wants something

you blame partially Yunho for teaching her how to manipulate those around her, mainly you, but you also know that even if it weren't for Yunho, you'd give in to your sweet daughter, unable to say no to her adorable face

and there were times when it was a blessing that Yunho had more free time than you as he was able to stay at home and watch your little one, entertaining her, and tiring her out by the time you got home

she'd be peacefully sleeping in her little bed, thumb in her mouth and cheeks lightly flushed as the blanket was up to her chin, so you'd pull it slightly down and make a mental note to tell Yunho that your daughter wouldn't freeze in the middle of summer

but all thoughts would fly out the window when you'd enter the kitchen, feet aching from wearing high heels all day, only to find your husband, Yunho, wearing his printed pajamas, socks mismatched, and apron tied tightly around his built form as he was humming a song while he cooked diligently dinner

you could only grin and bite your lip to stop yourself from bursting out laughing as in the middle of flipping the pancake Yunho would bust out dancing, rocking his hips left and right as he banged his head to the music only he could hear in his mind

it was an endearing sight, but way too amusing for your tired brain as you'd lean against the middle counter, placing your chin in your palm while watching him, wondering when he'd finally sense your presence

but Yunho would be too focused on cooking those pancakes, with a few already burnt, to feel your amused eyes on his back, and his humming would break out into a quiet singing, trying to keep quiet in order to not wake your little sunshine

and so, in order to not disturb your husband, you'd stand there quietly, just watching him and quietly snickering to yourself when his voice would crack, but he'd continue on like nothing happened, holding the spatula up to his mouth and belting out those high notes as silently as he could

but then finally he would turn around and almost screech at the sight of you, eyes bulged and spatula clutched to his chest as his heart would race from the fright you had just given him, making you burst out laughing

if what you had witnessed so far wasn't funny enough, the damn unnaturally red cheeks and suspiciously purple lips definitely tipped you off, belly hurting from laughing so hard at the sight of your husband

it seems like your little girl had a make-up session with Yunho, showcasing her skills well as your husband looked ridiculous with the make-up on, lips forming a pout when you wouldn't stop laughing at him

"hey, stop it!", he'd say, making you cover your mouth with your hands, "this masterpiece was done by our little sunshine and I didn't take it off, because she insisted I show it to you."

and so, you would finally settle down and shake your head at your husband as you'd walk around the counter and up to him, circle your arms around his shoulders as you leaned into him

he'd smell like home, sweet like vanilla with a tinge of pine, and of course, the pancake dough he'd made not long ago

and your heart would flutter despite being with this dork for almost ten years now

things never got boring with him, you never got used to the thought of having married your best friend and love of life, your three years old daughter a treasure you both cherished dearly

Yunho would smile at you fondly, his teeth showing due to his wide grin, slightly protruding at the front, making you lean up on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss against his purple lips

they would taste like grape, hence the lipstick your daughter very obviously borrowed from your vanity, and Yunho would wrap his arms around your middle as he playfully would lift you off of your feet while pressing his lips just a little harder against yours

"how was work?", he'd ask as he'd place you down again and then you would stay hugging, telling him about your day, until the burnt smell of the pancake he was making would catch your attention and send the both of you into a frenzy to quickly take it off the stove before the fire alarm could blare through your house and wake up your little girl

Yunho would giggle and blame you for the incident, making you shake your head as you'd make to leave for you bedroom to change into something more comfortable after having checked the time

because you were expecting Hongjoong and his fiancé to come over not even in half an hour

and almost as if your daughter sensed this, she'd wake up from her nap, full of energy despite her being supposed to sleep through the evening until the morning

but she loved her aunt too much to miss seeing her

and once the pancakes were done and Hongjoong and his fiancé had come over, you'd gather in the living room and enjoy the delicacy Yunho had made for you, listening to your daughter blabber on about to her aunt and Hongjoong about the little boy she met at the park earlier today

after that you'd gather the table, with the help of Hongjoong, the two of you would settle into a small conversation about work and Hongjoong's upcoming fashion collection, when you'd suddenly hear loud cheers coming from the living room

curious, you two would walk to the threshold and watch as Yunho and your best friend were bundled up together in front of Yunho's gamer set up, with your daughter in the middle, of course, staring up at the two adults in wonder and awe

you'd shake your head as Hongjoong would chuckle, amused at the sight

of course, your best friend and Yunho had gotten on well from the very first meeting, both gamers and sharing many hobbies

it was a given that they would exclude you from the conversation at some point, making you shake your head at them as you knew almost nothing about computer games

"hey, Yuyu, it's too late for her to be sitting in front of the computer", you'd try to pull your husband and daughter away from the gadget, but fail as your best friend would look at you with a grin and puppy eyes at the same time

"ten minutes, I want to show Yunho something, and then I promise we'll join you and Hongjoong", of course, it was always ten minutes turned into two hours

so, with a sigh, Hongjoong and you would return to the kitchen to grab a bottle of red wine and two tall glasses, chuckling to yourselves as you'd hear Yunho and your best friend yell out in excitement or disappointment, your little one following in tow as she'd imitate the two adults

it was amusing hearing them

and once settled across from each other at the middle counter, Hongjoong and you would go over the wedding plans he and your best friend had, the date coming closer and closer as days went by

the wine and the conversation with Hongjoong helped you relax, hearing your husband, daughter, and best friend from the living room made you feel content and happy with the way your life had turned out to be

and you knew you were lucky to have such a loving, sweet, and hilarious husband like Yunho

and a small little replica of his, a daughter that never failed to make you smile and laugh until your belly hurt

you were surrounded by your loved ones, and nothing could've made you happier in that exact moment

Masterlist

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glowing-gold · 5 months

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It’s tough for me to have a casual conversation with someone about The Beatles. You see, a lot of people know me as “the girl who loves The Beatles”, so at parties people come up to me, they make the innocent mistake of approaching me while I’m 3-4 drinks in, and they ask me, “so you really like The Beatles huh?” a harmless, get to know you kind of question, an ice breaker if you will. And at first, I have to pretend to be cool about it. I’m like “yeah, that’s me! Big Beatles Fan over here!” And they’ll be lulled into a false sense of security and start asking me questions they think are fun party questions to ask someone. So they ask me, they say “What’s your favorite song?” And I tell them, I can’t possibly choose. There are so many to choose from, it depends on my mood, the time of day, what color I’m wearing, the weather outside. Are we talking early Beatles, middle-era or late stage Beatles? Is it a ballad or a rocker? What album is it on? Is it a John song, Paul song or a George song? Who produced the song? Etc etc

and I can see their eyeballs start to bulge as they realize, perhaps this was not the casual conversation they were hoping to have at their friends birthday party. So I grin and shake my head and backpedal and let them know if I had to choose, with a gun to my head, I’d probably say the Abbey Road Medley. this puts them back at ease, i can see them silently thank god, because they know what I’m talking about, they’ve heard that one and they probably like it too! We discuss which parts are best (Bathroom Window) and which parts aren’t as strong (Mr. Mustard). But then I’ll forget to be cool and start telling them about how the guitar solos on The End are actually Paul George and John taking turns, and how it’s probably the last time any of them played together in the studio and how devastating that is when you take into account the title of the song and the fact that they knew it was all coming to a close…. But only if you consider Abbey Road to be the last Beatles album, which is a hot button topic considering Let It Be came out in ‘70…

So they look at me and nod, looking Nervous again. Then, thinking they’re saving themselves by changing the subject, they ask me another fun, easy to answer, non-loaded party question: “so why DID they break up???!!”

See, that’s when I have to make a decision. Do I give this person the PhD defense they never asked for? Do I shut down the conversation right there and then? Do I TRY to give them the short answer they’re looking for (keeping in mind, I’m a little tipsy)?

I usually try to make the answer short but every time it ends up into a dissertation. And god, help me. I can SEE them lose interest with every passing second. Their eyes glaze over, they’re on their fourth or fifth “damn, that’s crazy”. But I’m grabbing their arm, white knuckled and crazed, frantically pleading with them: “there’s a lick in Beef Jerky that sounds IDENTICAL to the lick in Let Me Roll It, which goes to show these two men couldn’t stop writing together even when they were separated for years, and they continue to write together 40+ after John’s DEATH and isn’t their story the most TRAGIC AND HEARTBREAKING LOVE STORY OF OUR TIME????!!!!!

anyway, this meme:

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #beatles #now and then #special interest

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mamaskillerqueen · 4 months

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Have A Beer For Me || Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

A/N: This is sad, and short, and contains mention of Jake being with a woman. There is also a main character death. If you'd ever like more to this story, I'd be happy to add more to this world. Also! Got inspo from this song.

“Well, I have the most beautiful girl in the world waiting in my bed for me… and I don’t have it in me to make her wait much longer,”

All of the men around the table made a collection of noises. All are in the booing category. It made Hangman chuckle lowly with a shake of his head.

“I have one more cheers in me, and then I really gotta get going."

Everyone at the table quickly lifted their glasses, clinking them together as Jake started the speech he had dragged them all out to hear. Everyone knew it was coming but not a single soul was ready for it.

“Boys, I do gotta ask a favour… you know, if I don’t make it back from this one.”

“Hey man, that’s not going to happen. We all know you, you’re gonna pull through without a scratch,” Bob interrupted but with a singular glare from Hangman he snapped his mouth shut. Any protests that would have ensued were quickly shut down.

“As I was saying, if I don’t make it back, I need a few things from y'all. For starters, I don’t want any tears. My girl will have that covered. I want y'all to have a beer for me, and to keep my truck going. Big off-road treks that get the old girl dirty,” Jake laughed, trying hard to not think about how mad his girlfriend will be at his friends when they come to steal his truck.

This was the part he was dreading the most. This was where he was going to beg them to keep an eye on her. He was devastated to be going on this solo mission. It was surely a suicide mission, and prior to having met her, he was all for those. She had changed everything and he hadn’t had enough time with her. The little diamond ring that recently found its home on her finger was a testament to that.

“I need y’all to keep an eye on her, and when the time is right, you gotta find her someone who will love her like I would have. You know she deserves the world and more.”

No one acknowledges the break in his voice or the hint of tears welling up in his eyes. If all of the guys around the table were honest, they knew that this was what tonight was about. How could they not? Seeing the usually unshakable Hangman in near tears was messing them up more than they’d like to admit.

“And to end this sap fest… I’m proud I’ve gotten to be a part of this squadron. It’s been good to know y’all. Thanks for givin’ me a chance. I know I haven’t always been the best, but don’t you forget to cheer for them Longhorns on the away teams side any chance you get.”

As Hangman pulled his glass to his lips and finished off his beer the rest of his friends slowly followed suit. Rooster was the first to finish off his drink after, watching Jake carefully as he shrugged his jacket back on. They made eye contact, and Rooster couldn’t deny the sinking feeling this was the last time he’d see his newishly found friend. A nod was shared as Jake placed a hand on Coyote’s shoulder.

Javy quickly rose to his feet and followed Jake out the front doors. This was the hardest for him of everyone. He was doing his best to not let it show. Jake never talked like this. Then again, he was never ordered to a suicide mission by himself before either.

“We were gonna get married. Gave her Meemaw’s ring and everything. You’re my best man. Just needed you to know.”

Javy let out a heavy exhale, because of course he was. There would have never been a question of that. He appreciated the sentiment though, and as much as he knew he had to let his friend leave to see his girl, he really didn’t want to.

“I know, man. Always did,” Javy finally answered. His voice was a little more shaken than he would have liked it to be but neither of them acknowledged that either.

Javy held his hand out, waiting for his friend to shake it. When Jake slipped his hand into his friends they pulled each other into a hug afterwards.

“Take care of her while I’m gone,” Jake whispered.

“You got it, big man,” Javy returned in the same whisper.

Javy watched his best friend walk away, and climb into his precious truck. They used to joke that she was the only thing Jake would ever love. Boy were they wrong as ever. Javy watched as the truck disappeared into the dark, knowing it would be the last time he ever saw his best friend.

Jake’s plane ended up going down behind enemy lines. There was no rescue team. All that returned was a folded flag. Javy handed it off to his best friend's other half at his funeral. They both cried as the guns went off. In fact, there wasn’t a dry eye in the whole squadron.

The whole squad, including Phoenix and Halo, had gone to almost every Longhorns home game just so they could sit on the visitor's side and cheer as loud as they could for the home team. And every Friday night, the first and last song played on the old jukebox at the Hard Deck is always Slow Ride.

Javy and the girl who had turned his best friend into the man they had all become so proud to know took that old truck out for a nice long joy ride at least once a month. He had even introduced her to a good ole boy Jake would have hated but was exactly the kind of guy he would have wanted for her. She hasn’t been ready though, and Javy wasn’t sure she ever would be. That dainty little diamond still sits nestled right where Jake left it.

Whenever the sun starts to set, and the sky is a brilliant shade of reddish purple, Javy finds himself with a beer that isn’t his brand down by the shoreline. He whispers the latest updates of life to his best friend, holds the beer up for a cheers, and tells Jake just how much he’s loved and missed with tears in his eyes.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin angst #hangman angst #sad hangman #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x you #top gun hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman #Spotify

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chelseachilly · 5 months

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i watched it begin again

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ever since your last relationship ended badly, you've lost all hope in love. until your best friend convinces you to go on a date with her bf's friend ben warnings: none word count: 2.7k

author's note: this is just a short little something inspired by one of my favourite songs, begin again by taylor swift ❤️ and bc the thought of a first date with ben is just so perfect to me 😌

As you sit in an Uber on your way to Marylebone, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your dress, you can’t help but wonder how you got here.

It took a lot of convincing - to be precise, three glasses of white wine, some chocolates, and the agreement to watch your favourite movie on Netflix that night - for your best friend to convince you to go on this date last weekend.

Mia, one of your closest friends since you were kids, knows better than anyone how reluctant you’ve been to return to dating life ever since your last relationship ended catastrophically. Your last boyfriend, Jack, who had also been your first serious one, had completely broken your heart eight months ago.

After two years together, just when you were beginning to think about taking the next step and move in with him, you caught him cheating on you with in his flat with a coworker he had sworn was just a friend. You were so completely devastated by this betrayal and the sudden end of your relationship that you haven’t so much as downloaded a dating app or talked to a guy at a bar since.

Your friends have been loving and supportive of your decision to stay single for a while, but ever since Mia started seeing her boyfriend Harvey a couple months ago, she’s been pestering you to meet one of his friends. She’s told you several times that his mate Ben is perfect for you, but based on the little you know, you’re not sure you agree.

She showed you his Instagram a while back and, although there’s no questioning that he’s quite attractive, you don’t know if a fancy, famous footballer is the right choice to ease back into dating. You doubted that you would be his type, either, but when Mia insisted that Ben was interested and free this Thursday, you finally gave in.

You figured the worst that could happen is you realize you’re not ready to date again or that there isn’t a connection between you and you wasted one evening having dinner with a stranger.

But now that you’re sitting in this car, about to go on an actual date for the first time in forever, you feel like you might explode with nerves. You don’t remember how to flirt, how to tell someone about yourself, how to act cool and composed. You could be totally awkward and weird and he might never want to see you again.

Or, even worse, you could fall madly in love, only for him to end up breaking your heart. That’s the far more terrifying possibility.

You have half a mind to ask the driver to turn around and take you back home, but you force yourself not to. Mia would be upset with you, and you figure you owe it to her not to stand up Harvey’s friend for no real reason.

Your hands are shaking slightly as you get out of the car and enter the restaurant. You consider waiting outside for him, as you’re a couple minutes early and he probably isn’t here yet, but it’s freezing out right now, so you decide to head in.

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks you, and you nod a bit shyly.

“Yes, it should be under Chilwell? But I’m early, so I can just wait-"

“Right this way,” she says with a smile, motioning for you to follow her.

It’s a small restaurant, with no more than ten tables, most of them occupied. There are candles burning and soft music is playing, the atmosphere somehow romantic without being cheesy.

You feel slightly more at ease knowing it’s not some insanely posh place like you were half-expecting it to be, and then you lock eyes with your date.

Your stomach erupts with butterflies - something you also weren’t quite expecting - when you see him, immediately realizing that the photos Mia showed you did not do him justice.

He’s gorgeous, with bright blue eyes that light up when he sees you and wavy dark hair that you could spend hours running your fingers through. He quickly stands up as you approach the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the dark blue trousers he’s wearing, paired with a black knit jumper and Nikes.

You can hear Mia’s words echoing in your ears: “Harv swears he has a heart of gold. He had a bad breakup last year too, so you’re in the same boat. Just give him a chance and see how it goes!”

“Y/N!” Ben smiles, greeting you with a quick hug. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mia’s talked a lot about you.”

Oh, god, you think to yourself, hoping your best friend hasn’t overhyped you too much.

“Good to meet you too,” you say, returning his smile. “And that sounds like Mia, she talks a lot about everything.”

“That’s probably why she and Harv work so well,” he quips.

Ben is still standing quite close to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s pulled out your chair for you to sit down. You’re not sure if a guy has ever done that for you before.

You oblige, taking the seat and letting him push you in before sitting across from you. Something your mum told you when you were a kid about how a gentleman behaves comes to mind, but you try not to let your mind wander too much. It’s been about twenty seconds, there’s plenty of time for him to prove right your current theory that all men are trash.

“Thanks for choosing the restaurant,” you say to fill the silence, glancing around you. “It’s really nice.”

“Yeah, I come here a lot,” Ben replies. “It’s low key, which I kinda like. Mostly old people and stuff. I was actually just starting to worry you’d think it was a bit lame for a first date.”

“I don’t,” you say quickly. “I’m good with low key.”

Ben smiles at you, and you’re not sure if it’s him or the candlelight making your face feel warmer all of a sudden.

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he says a bit shyly. “I should’ve said that sooner.”

“Oh, thanks.” You’re certain now that you’re blushing. “So do you. I mean, you look very - not that you’re not gorgeous, men can totally be-"

You meet Ben’s gaze, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you find no judgement in his eyes - he’s smiling at you even more now, the kind of smile that makes you feel completely at ease.

You just met this man, and yet you feel completely safe with him.

“Sorry, this is my first date in nearly three years, I’m a bit rusty,” you admit.

“No, you’re good,” Ben says gently. “Mia mentioned you recently got out of a long-term relationship.”

“Not that recently anymore, but…yeah,” you say. “It was a bit of a shit show. We were together two years and then one day I walked in on him sleeping with another girl. Not exactly an amicable breakup.”

Ben’s face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. What a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, he really was,” you say, nodding your head. “Obviously, it was for the best, though. Better I find out he’s a lying cheater now than ten years down the line, right?”

“Definitely,” Ben agrees, “you want something to drink?”

After a couple glasses of wine and the most amazing pasta dish you’ve ever had in your life, you feel like you’ve known the person sitting across from you for years, rather than hours.

You talk about everything - your job, his football career, your families, your friends. You talk about your ex a bit more, and then he opens up about his. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you’re sharing too much with him, but a far stronger one telling you that this is right. It’s a feeling you’ve never had before, not with your ex and not on any other first date you had before him.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed until you look around and realize you’re the only ones left in the restaurant.

“They’re probably closing soon,” you comment, though you don’t really want to leave.

“Twenty minutes ago, actually,” Ben says. You raise an eyebrow, and he scratches the back of his head and smiles. “Uh, I may have offered the owner a hundred quid to stay open a bit longer while you were in the loo. I’ve been having a really nice time talking to you.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, your eyes nearly beginning to water at the gesture.

“I’ve been having a really nice time with you, too.”

After you finish your drinks and Ben pays the cheque, not even hearing out your offer to split it, you head back out into the chilly London night together.

“I’m just gonna call an Uber,” you say, pulling out your phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulders for warmth with the other.

“I’m parked right around the corner, I’d be happy to drive you?” Ben offers.

You remember that he declined a second glass of wine earlier, stating that he was driving - a stark contrast from your ex, who would frequently call you to pick him and his car up from the pub after he got too pissed to drive home.

“You really don’t have to, it’s pretty late,” you protest.

“It’s no big deal,” Ben assures you. He then shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders without hesitation, putting an end to your clearly obvious shivering. “So you don’t freeze on the way to the car.”

You smile gratefully, unable to articulate with words how much this simple gesture means to you.

As you walk side by side, you can’t help but admire the Christmas lights already strung up on the shops and houses you pass.

“I love this time of year,” you say. “It’s so magical.”

“Same here,” Ben smiles. “Christmas in London is the best. Do you have any plans for the holidays this year?”

Your brain briefly flits back to the ski trip you and your ex went on the past two years right before Christmas. A week ago, you were dreading that time coming, knowing you would end up being nostalgic for those trips and start missing him again, but somehow, that feeling seems to have vanished.

“Just going home to see my parents,” you say. “You?”

“Yeah, we always have games around Christmas, so my family usually comes to mine and we do a big dinner on Christmas Day, then they come see me play on Boxing Day,” Ben tells you. “After the game, we always go get hot chocolate and go ice skating. My little sister suggested it when she was a bit younger, and it sort of stuck.”

The combination of Ben’s coat over your shoulders and the way your heart is melting at his sweet words makes your entire body feel warmer.

“That’s a great tradition,” you say, looking over at him with a smile and gently bumping your arm against his.

You arrive at Ben’s car and he opens the door for you to get in, his hand brushing against yours as you do so, and the brief touch is enough to drive you crazy.

The drive to your flat isn’t too long, and conversation continues to flow easily between the pair of you. You can’t help but steal a glance at Ben from time to time as he drives, admiring the way the streetlights reflect in his beautiful ocean blue eyes.

There’s a bit of a pang in your chest when he pulls up in front of your building and you know this is the end of the most incredible night you’ve had in ages.

“Walk you to your door?” Ben offers, and you nod without hesitation.

He once again comes around to open your door for you - you know you have a low bar right now, but you’re seriously in awe of what a gentleman he’s being.

Once you’ve arrived at the door to your flat, you turn around to face Ben, and he has a bit of an inquisitive expression on his face.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he says softly.

“So did I,” you say sincerely. “Thanks for dinner, and the lift home, and…just, erm, for being so wonderful.”

His cheeks now flushed with red, Ben takes a small step closer to you, and your gaze automatically falls to his lips. You want him to kiss you, you’re sure of it, but some part of you is still completely terrified of where this might go if you do.

“Can I…” Ben murmurs, tenderly reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and once again, you don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

He slowly leans in until his lips are pressed to yours, one hand gently cupping your face and the other resting on your waist. You hold his hand that rests on your cheek as you kiss him back, your lips slowly moving together in perfect harmony.

It’s fun and new and exciting to kiss him, but mostly, just like everything has this evening, it feels right.

When you pull away, it takes a moment for your eyes to remember how to open. When you do, you’re met with an awestruck grin on Ben’s face that you’re pretty sure you’re mirroring yourself.

“Wow,” you breathe. “Been a long time since I’ve done that.”

You’re not sure if you mean kissing or falling for someone - perhaps both.

“Me too,” Ben whispers, kissing you once more. “I think we’re pretty good at it.”

You nod, grasping at his shirt as you find yourself swaying slightly, intoxicated by his kisses and his gaze.

“Maybe we should do it again to be sure,” you joke.

He wastes no time leaning down to kiss you again, and again, and again until you’ve lost all track of time.

Eventually, he pulls away and takes a small step back, and you miss his lips already.

“I should probably get going,” he says, though you can tell he doesn’t really want to. You have half a mind to invite him inside, but you know it’s better to take things slow, especially when there’s a chance this could really be something. “Can I - erm, would you want to-“

“Yes, please,” you cut him off with a grin. “Text me when you get home?”

You’re already eagerly anticipating a second date - the sooner the better, honestly, despite your wishes to take it slow.

“Definitely,” Ben says, nodding eagerly. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to turn to walk away, and you watch him get halfway to his car before fumbling for your keys and entering your flat with a giddy smile on your face.

You realize you haven’t checked your messages all night, so you quickly return Mia’s texts.

You flip down on your couch, still smiling like a fool, and it’s only then that you realize you’re still wearing Ben’s jacket. After panicking for a second, you quickly reach for your phone again.

You nearly throw your phone with excitement, counting down the seconds until you get to see him again and thanking your lucky stars that you agreed to go out tonight.

You thought that love died that terrible day eight months ago, that your chance at happiness was over, but now you can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason things ended the way they did.

Maybe to make way for something better to begin.

please let me know what you thought, i hope you liked this story! i have some more in the works, including a super fluffy christmas one-shot 💓

#ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine

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somnambulic-thing · 9 months

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Boom pt I

I just wrote this. (Instead of working on my 4000wips but what else is new?) It's totally random and silly and that was exactly what I needed today.

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Words: 694 ||Contentwarnings: implication of violent moshpit, Eddie's elbow to readers face (he's so sorry), bruising, mention of various explosives, strangers to stupidly enamoured strangers, hurt/comfort I guess?, fluff I guess?, meet cute if you're into that sorta thing?||

One moment, you’re screaming kicking jumping your heart out in a moshpit and in the next, your cheekbone explodes.

Well, at least that's how it feels.

“Shitshitshitshiiiit,” chants the dynamite into the break between two songs. “So sorry, shit, you okay? Hey, hey, can you look at me?”

You can and you do, reluctantly removing your hand from your face. Mr Gunpowder stares at you with wide dark eyes out of a hot, sweaty face that also looks like explosives; with his sharp drippy jaw and sensual mouth and oh, he’s biting his full, pink bottom lip now in another attempt to blow your head up. Okay, yeah, it’s more a worried than a steamy gesture but holy shit; if that’s what he looks like worried, you want to devastate him.

“How bad is it?”

He scrunches up his adorable nose. “Already bruising—“

‘LET’S MAKE THIS A BLOOD BATH!’ the frontman shouts and counts in his drummer.

“Nope!” TNT-guy says, loops his sticky arm under yours and pulls you through the crowd faster than the blast beat.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?”

“BAR! ICE!”

—

You sigh with relief as the cold sinks into your hot, throbbing cheek and you have to close your eyes because you’re a bit dizzy and you’re not sure if it’s caused by the smack in the head or by Nitroglycerin Incarnate who’s gently holding a bundle of ice cubes wrapped in a dishtowel to your face.

Whatever it is, you thank the universe for adrenaline.

“I’m so so sorry!” he says for the hundredth time, then you feel his fingers brush your sweaty hair behind your ear. “Let me know when you feel sick? You want some water? I’m sooo sorry.”

“It’s alright!”

“No, noooo, it’s not—“

“It’s a grindcore show, Granade-boy. Shit like that happens—“

“What— what did you call me?”

You could swear the confusion in his voice is laced with a smirk but it’s still plenty loud here at the bar so you open your eyes.

So he has dimples too.

“What I was saying,” you deflect and your face stings when you smile, “don’t beat yourself up over this… One black eye is enough for one night!”

He tilts his head back and groans. You shiver and mentally mark five mouth-watering spots where you want to bite his neck before he looks back at you; totally heartbroken. “Too soon!”

“Wait! Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“Yes! Exactly,” he shakes his head, a soft smile contrasting the furrowed brows. “You’re way too cool about the fact that some asshole just nearly cracked your skull with his elbow.”

“Exploded,” you explain casually.

“W-what?”

“That’s what it felt like on impact.”

“Ah,” a satisfied noise, smooth, warm. “Granade-boy. Now I get it. Can cross this out as a sign of concussion then.” He carefully removes the ice from your face to look at the bruise. Tilting his head, his eyes rest heavy on your cheek before his gaze travels to your eyes and won’t leave again; it’s galvanic, sends a current down your spine that forces your ribs to expand and your pelvis to twitch on the barstool he ordered you to sit on. “It’s Eddie.”

Eddie takes a step closer, the damp fabric of his shirt ghosting your knees and brings the ice slowly back to your skin, wincing when you do. Sorry, he mouthes silently and breaks into a wide, toothy smile when you roll your eyes playfully.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Unbelievable.” The residual red of exertion and excitement on his cheeks deepens again. “Really nice to meet you too... badass bitch.”

Your laugh is a hearty bark; it also hurts but, oh my, is it worth it when Eddie joins you with his smooth, deep cackle. He doesn't stop, even when you lean back, chuckling and moaning, to hold your cheek. His stomach meets your knees, the ice clinks softly as he drops it to the counter. He’s gently holding on to your shoulders, his right hand cold and wet against your skin. “Too soon?” he smirks and you laugh out again.

“What’s your name?” he asks and swallows hard, repeating your name after you like it's a charm. “Can I buy you pizza?”

“They have pizza here?”

“No.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #shortfic #my fic

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undead-supernova · 3 months

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HIGH TOLERANCE

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Masterlist

warnings: weed consumption, Steve (derogatory) (not to me, but in this canon sorry), jealous!reader out the whazoo, puke, drinking, horny thoughts, Annie Lennox's (Eurythmics) incredible song "Love Is a Stranger"

pairings: bestfriend!modern!eddie x bisexual!fem!reader

plot: it's everyone's downfall to desire jealousy to go both ways, isn't it?

wc: 5.8k

note: Hope everyone likes it! Been a little preoccupied with some life stuff but I've got a fire under my ass to finish this series and working on other fics hehe

Part 3: "Volcano Vaporizer"

“What’re you up to?”

“Since you last asked me five minutes ago?”

“Yup.”

“Still trying to fix my toilet.” Eddie heard a bang. “Ow!”

“You good?”

“Just hit my head again. No big deal.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “I could’ve done it for you if you just, you know, asked.”

“You’re on your break and I kinda need to pee, you know.”

Eddie looked down at his BLT, arms smeared with grease. No amount of soap could take everything off, especially in his brown coveralls. (Plus, his black nail polish had almost been obliterated within the first hour of his shift.) (It was devastating.) He was reclined in the front seat of his van, legs stretched out against the passenger seat, the one he tried not to picture you in.

He thought about his uncle Wayne, how he would’ve been more than happy to come fix whatever the fuck you needed if he had moved here like Eddie wanted. Wayne just didn’t like how big it was, how daunting it would be to start that process over of getting a new home and a new job. It was something Eddie assured him wouldn’t be so bad, but Wayne merely shook his head and told him that he preferred the comfort of Hawkins. Though, Eddie wasn’t so sure if Hawkins and comfort really went together.

Wayne accidentally met you once, two years ago. He’d come for his first (and only) visit. You had accidentally fallen asleep the night before after binge watching Ted Lasso. And to be clear, you fell asleep on Eddie’s bed, not his couch. And to be fair, Eddie really thought you’d be gone by the time they got back from the airport.

But when he went to show Wayne his bedroom and found you scrolling on your phone… Well.

You introduced yourself and made breakfast. Breakfast. You stayed through your horrible embarrassment in Eddie’s shirt (and boxers) and cooked for everyone. It had gone well, but after you left Eddie had to beg Wayne to believe him that you were just friends.

Even then, there was no way Wayne didn’t already know what Eddie was too scared to say aloud.

“I could always send someone.”

“Who?”

Eddie thought about it but ultimately came up short. “Uh, I don’t know. Someone.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “No, thanks. I think I’ve got it.”

“I’ll see you tonight, though.”

“Tonight?” you asked.

Eddie paused. “Uh, I’m performing tonight? At The Hidey-Hole?” He could hear you let out a low “Ohhhhhh” as he spoke. “I’m bringing that volcano thing…?”

“Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “You’re right. Glad I can come then. Jesus, I’m sorry for forgetting. I really didn’t want to miss that.”

Eddie smiled. “No problem, Weirdo.” And for some reason, he genuinely began sweating as he started his next question. A proper sweat, starting in his armpits and the crown of his head, threatening to send trickles down his neck and torso. Fuck, he needed a shower.

“Is it cool that I invited Robin…and, uh, Steve?”

You paused. “No, yeah. It’s fine. Sure.”

It hadn’t been a long pause. But it was a pause, one of those that lasted a second too long. A short break in the conversation, a hesitance that held more than just a beat of silence. And now he was wondering what the fuck you were thinking.

“Did you go on that date?”

Eddie couldn’t stop the lump growing in his throat as the question came through. Did he really want to tell you of all people about his subpar date with Steve Harrington?

But you were still his best friend. He really couldn’t keep it from you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“And…how was it?”

Taking another bite of his sandwich, he recounted the night more to himself than you, really. Because, yeah, Steve had been nice. Really nice. A gentleman in every way that mattered. But, to put it simply, it was just fucking boring.

“It went okay, I guess? I don’t know. Steve’s a really nice guy and he’s pretty funny. Good at mini-golf, too.”

“Don’t you, like, hate mini-golf?”

You were right. Eddie loathed mini-golf after an unfortunate accident. He was by the edge of the water, trying to hit the neon green ball into the mouth of a hippo. It was on some date with some girl he was trying to impress, and he was a little too forceful with his swing. He failed to even hit the ball, losing his grip on the putter before dropping it to the ground. Eddie took a step forward, accidentally stepping on the ball. Lost his footing. Fell in the water. Hit his head. Had to be taken to the ER for a couple of stitches. Lost the girl after she had to drive him home.

He felt so embarrassed when he tried to go back a few months later and saw they put up a fence around the water and a sign that said No Swimming.

“Yes, but I never told him that story.”

You snorted. “Well, why not?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you didn’t want to play mini golf, why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“I don’t know, I guess I wanted to make him happy.”

He could hear you pause again. “So, are you guys, like dating?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a serious thing.” Was he trying to tell himself this or you? “But I guess we are.”

“Cool.”

Cool? What did you mean by cool? That was half of an opinion, half judgment. Or did you really not care? But you were the one who asked, weren’t you? Did it mean anything that he still wanted you to be jealous, to finally come clean about how you felt and denounce Steve’s advances?

He looked at the time and sighed. “Shit, I gotta head back. Hold on while I down this BLT.”

“Okay.”

He stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and washed it down with the rest of his Dr. Pepper.

“OW!” you shouted again. “Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate this stupid thing!”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Have fun with your broken toilet, Weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat shit.”

You felt haunted by some kind of fucked up presence as you drove to that dive bar across the city. Knowing that your fears were confirmed… Well, it certainly wasn’t the best feeling, was it? Like the rejection before the rejection. The pre-game. The warmup.

And you were always asking the wrong questions, weren’t you? Your mind was a pesky little thing, desperate for those deprecating answers to confirm every nightmare you’d had for the past two weeks. They were dating now. And maybe it wasn’t an official relationship yet, but casual dating led to dating and dating led to a relationship and a relationship led to the death of any and all chance with Eddie Munson.

“Love Is a Stranger” blasted through your speakers, the same song you sang at karaoke. The one where Eddie left the table to come and cheer you on, always being your biggest fan. He swayed, raising the roof ever so often to give an added effect. But… Well. What about Eddie and Steve’s performance? What about the way Eddie danced with him, getting closer than you’d ever seen them before?

Steve’s hands. The stumble. The nearly avoided kiss.

And you didn’t want to give in to the dangerous bitterness rising in you. You really didn’t.

But if you saw even a morsel of affection tonight, a mere kiss on the fucking cheek, you were going to throw up.

“'And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so, it’s an

obsession.'”

You groaned. “Get out of my head, Annie Lennox!”

But she, of course, couldn’t hear you. Instead, she was spending every second of that intoxicating beat teasing you, berating you. Making you wish that you’d stayed home tonight, bitter with a 10mg Delta-9 gummy, melting into the couch while watching Schitt’s Creek. At least there you could anxiously daydream about what was going to happen tonight and spiral down an endless well of what-ifs without having to see it.

But you kept driving.

“'It’s savage and it’s cruel and it shines like destruction.

Comes in like a flood, and it seems like religion.

It’s noble and it’s brutal, it distorts and deranges.

And it wrenches you up and you’re left like a zombie.'”

You couldn’t help but let out another groan and skip the song.

“Fucking Annie Lennox,” you murmured.

When you got out of your car, you saw Eddie talking to Gareth, Grant, and Jeff over by his van, Gareth drumming against the pavement. Eddie was nodding along to the beat but turned at the sound of the car door, smile widening. It was like that anxiety dissipated, momentarily overwhelming you with a sense of calm and safety you always felt around him. It was so strange, the way he affected you.

“Look who it is,” you heard Grant say, hitting Jeff’s shoulder before pointing over at you.

“Eddie!” you called out before running over to him, trying to keep hold of your purse.

“Hurry up, Weirdo!” he exclaimed, arms spread wide, quick to catch and lift you into the air once you fell into him.

It was so strange, the way he moved you.

You let out an exasperated “Ahhhh” as he moved you back and forth, shaking you a few times before putting you back down.

The rest of the band exclaimed your name, hooting and hollering, all rowdy and boyish.

“Lookin’ hot!” Jeff said, throwing you finger guns. You gave him a big smile.

“Yeah, you look so cool,” Eddie said once he had a chance to look you over. He took a step back, as if he were admiring art. Fuck. “The lucky fishnets?” he asked, pinching your thigh. You jumped, slapping his arm.

"Ow! Quit it!" But you still smiled, nodding feverishly. “To answer your question, yes. You know I had to wear ‘em.”

“Hell yeah, dude,” he replied, giving you a hearty high-five that stung. “It’s gonna be a good night.”

And you believed him. You really did.

“Hey, guys!”

But you lost hope immediately, trying not to turn around at the sound of Steve’s voice. If there was anything that could ruin your night, it was Steve Harrington walking around drunk with loose lips and a penchant for physical affection.

Eddie waved. “What’s up!”

“Just here to rock out,” Robin responded. You turned and watched as she threw up her fingers in the sign of the horns. That made you laugh. She was trying her hardest and you respected that. You also respected how she wasn’t trying to fit in, in a forest green crop top and loose jeans. Her hands were stuffed in a dark jean jacket and had her hair up in a small bun. (In short, Robin was hot.)

“Hey, you look great!” Robin said to you, giving you a hug. “Love the lipstick.”

You were genuinely touched by the compliment. “Thanks, Robin. You look beautiful, as always.”

“Nice fishnets,” Steve noted, pointing to your legs.

You finally faced him, eyes widening when you took in his appearance. Steve was trying harder too, in a Panic! at the Disco Death of a Bachelor album t-shirt and jeans, with a chain in exchange for a belt. If it wasn’t him, that would look stupid. But it was Steve Harrington. He looked cool.

“Um, thank you,” you replied with a small smile.

Steve saluted you before poking Robin. “You should keep Rob company tonight. She invited Vickie, but she got stuck at work.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “And? It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. She has a life outside of me.”

Robin looked like she was telling the truth. She genuinely wasn't that upset about it. But Steve couldn't help but take things a little too far.

“Yeah, but you’re like in love with her, dude—"

“Am not! Shut up!”

“Yeah, Harrington,” Eddie agreed. “Let the girl live.”

Steve turned to you again, making your eyes widen. Was Steve wearing a little bit of eyeliner? Did he really put in this much effort to impress Eddie?

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Without a singular thought about consequences, you said, “Um, well, I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. You knew she was suspicious from the get-go. “That’s very…soon.”

“You didn’t mention it on the phone earlier,” Eddie stated, turning his full attention to you now. You knew he was hurt. You saw it immediately.

“Oh, yeah, well. We just made the plans like an hour ago and—so, yeah. They’re really cool.”

“That’s great, though,” Steve said, throwing a hand up to high-five you. You glanced over at Eddie’s seemingly blank expression before giving Steve the most pathetic high-five of your life. “You’ve been single the entire time I’ve known you. That’s awesome. Congrats.”

Before you could say anything, Grant was cutting in. “What about you and Eddie, huh?” he asked, smirking over at Steve.

No. No, no, no. Please no. You didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t need to.

But you did.

“Oh, yeah!” Steve laughed, pointing at Eddie. Eddie who was looking away, fiddling with something. Probably his lighter. He was always playing with that thing.

You turned your attention back to Steve, bracing yourself for the impact.

“Eddie’s been so fun to go on dates with. Seriously, this guy is like a master at mini-golf.” You shot Eddie a look, noticing how he was already glancing over at you nervously. “I can never get the ball through those tiny slots and, seriously dude, you got through that windmill on the first try. It’s unbelievable.”

“That’s awesome,” you said, smiling mischievously. Eddie gave you a look, rolling his eyes. “Eddie’s just a natural at everything. Pinball, D&D, air hockey, and now mini-golf.”

Eddie groaned and you could tell he wanted you to shut up. “I just have a lot of interests. It’s really not that big of a deal.” He let out a small huff before pointing at the band. “Alright, you all go back inside with these two,” he turned to point at Robin and Steve, “because we,” now the finger was on you, “are going to take dabs.”

Everyone laughed at his finger-turned-compass before waving their goodbyes and heading off. The two of you watched everyone file through the door before Eddie turned to you and patted your shoulder.

“Come here, Weirdo. Got something special for ya.”

As he led you over to his van, you noticed his hand brushing your back. You wished he kept snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you in and playing with the lace. Fiddle with it to his heart’s content and give him a reason to keep touching you. Keep getting closer. Even if he was opening the back door of the van and pulling out a device, he could always keep you guys in there. Keep you close, whispering in the dark. Keep his fingers on your dress…

“Alright,” he said, clapping and rubbing his hands together. You shook the image out of your head. “So, I brought this thing called a Volcano Vaporizer. It’s, like, this thing where I put this plastic bag right here and when I melt the wax, it fills the bag with smoke, right?” You nodded, watching him work. “And then I put this orange mouthpiece on and, boom, you just suck the dab out. It’ll give us about three bags which will probably be more than enough.”

“Even for you?”

He smirked. “Even for me.”

“Sick,” you said.

“Here,” he said once it filled up. “First half is yours, humble cleric.”

Snorting, you shook your head. “Always the gentleman.”

You pressed your lips down on the mouthpiece and took it in slow, filling your lungs to the best of your ability. The taste wasn’t even half bad, similar to a regular bong hit, just with a little twist from being wax instead of bud. And the strangest thing happened when you blew out the air: You didn’t cough. Any time you took a dab, you coughed and hacked and lost your mind. Puffcos were your absolute enemy. But this…

“This is the smoothest dab I’ve ever taken,” you said.

He nodded, taking the bag from you and finishing off the first batch. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“How’d you get this?”

“Uh, I won it in a poker game against one of my dealers,” he said as he filled a second bag and took a hit. “I may have cheated, but he doesn’t know that.” You laughed. “It’s usually $700 or some shit like that.”

“An impeccable man,” you teased, taking the half-full bag. “Incredible work, Munson.”

You sucked in the rest of the dab and let the smoke out, noticing Eddie’s eyes directly on you. Reciprocating the eye contact, you grew confused when he didn’t break it at all. In fact, he seemed so much closer than before.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked.

“Looking at you like what?”

You nudged him. “Like that.”

“What’s their name?”

“Huh?”

“The person you’re going on the date with.”

“Gertrude,” you said without thinking. You swallowed down the urge to bash your head against the side of the van as you realized how utterly stupid you sounded. But you had to commit now. That was the only way out of this. You could only hope Eddie was dumb enough to believe you. “Their name is Gertrude.”

“Gertrude?” Eddie repeated. You nodded. “Sounds cool.”

Sounds cool? Sounds cool? That wasn’t supposed to be his response. Why wasn’t he calling you out for lying? Why wasn’t he exposing you for having a fat crush on him and throwing all of this stupid middle school behavior aside? But even if he did believe you, he was supposed to at least look a little upset by it. In fact, he looked more upset about you not telling him than he did with the fake ass name you made up. It was unbearable. You didn’t want this anymore.

Without hesitation, you reached out to grab his hand. You needed to feel him close, needed to feel the way you always did in his grasp. Safe. Understood. And here you were, seconds from meeting his open palm and saying to hell with all of these stupid games. To hell with keeping everything concealed. There was no Gertrude. There shouldn’t be a Steve. It was just you. It was just him. You were all his.

But there Eddie was, looking away from you and back towards Gareth at the door, waving him over. Eddie gave him a salute in turn.

“Alright, Weirdo,” he said, patting your knee. He hadn’t even noticed your hand lying limp against your thigh. “I gotta go perform. Finish this for me?” he asked, handing you the rest of his dab. You nodded, giving him the best tight-lipped smile you could without giving away your disappointment. “Alright, don’t forget to lock the van and, oh, by the way, don’t be long. Gotta have my biggest fan in the front row.”

“Like always.”

It was actually a really good turnout tonight. Corroded Coffin had finally gotten a spot to play on a Saturday which was a very big deal. The Hidey-Hole may have been a dive bar, but in Atlanta terms, that still meant it was packed on the weekends. At first it had been twenty people, twenty-five tops. Then fifty flooded the space with a bouncer and a line at the door and suddenly Eddie realized how important this was for the band.

So why was it that he couldn’t pay attention?

He couldn’t help but think about you, about this fucking person you were going on a date with. Would you find yourself wanting more? With a cool name like Gertrude, maybe you would. Eddie couldn’t help but flip through facial features and imaginings of who this person was and how their voice sounded and how it would feel if he saw you being kissed by someone else.

And, sure, Eddie was going on dates with Steve. But they hadn’t kissed or anything like that. Eddie wasn’t even sure he wanted to kiss Steve. Steve was pretty—extremely pretty. The kind of pretty that made any boy swoon, and all the girls lose their minds. But Steve just wasn’t someone Eddie wanted to kiss.

Because you were screaming your head off in the front, jumping and dancing around to his music while Steve stood in the back and bopped his head. You knew every word, every note. You played an air guitar along with him, head banging your way through the set and pointing up at him whenever they got to a part that you really liked. He always shared his lyrics with you first, always shocked when you’d memorize them and squeal about your favorite lines.

He couldn’t help but smile at you, as lost in the music as he was. You were wearing one of his (secret) favorite dresses, a black lace babydoll dress with what you called your lucky fishnets. Specifically, the ones with you wore to whatever gig you could make it to. (Every gig you showed up to always drew in a larger crowd. How you did that, he couldn’t say. He did call you a witch once.)

Tonight, your eyes were lined in black with silver eye shadow and a deep burgundy lipstick. A lover of black, but you always wore it with a smile. Maybe the happiest semi-goth he’d ever met. He loved it—no, more than that. He went absolutely feral for it. It made his heart skyrocket, his mouth run a little dryer than usual. And when he was high like this, tingling with the vibrations of his Sweetheart, he prayed to a God he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t get a boner onstage.

But he could see your dress riding up to reveal that your lucky fishnets came attached to garters and Sweetheart was adding juuuuust enough friction and suddenly he had to look away from you, too embarrassed that he fucking popped a boner in front of all these people, that he popped a boner in front of you, with only Sweetheart to keep his secret.

He looked back over to Steve, testing himself. Was Steve able to do the same thing? Could he ruin Eddie on this stage tonight and turn him into a mumbling fool in his bedroom later when he got himself off?

But…there was nothing. Steve was talking to Robin and offhandedly looked at his phone. Eddie could even see him scrolling. He may have been swaying to the beat, but he was barely paying attention. It hurt Eddie’s feeling, just not in a way that would come from a potential lover.

In the end, he realized there really was only one person he wanted to kiss.

And she was currently going on dates with someone else.

That Volcano truly did what it set out to do. You were seeing color after color, the room swirling around you in vibrant shades of red and black. It was all fuzzy and pixelated, vibrating within you. You were being taken on an overwhelming journey, but in a way that was calming. Eddie was right in front of you, giving it his all and basically staring at you the entire time. Or from what you could tell in between dancing and the room spinning you in circles like a merry-go-round.

And, holy hell, Eddie was so fucking hot when he performed. It burned, literally burned inside of you, slowly spreading between your legs. It was all Eddie’s fault, with his bangs sticking to his forehead and sweat rolling down his cheeks like teardrops. In every guitar solo, he bit his lip so hard that you could’ve sworn you saw him draw blood. His fingers hit note after note, charging up and down the neck of his electric guitar. Those hands which, ever so sweetly, used to fit right in yours.

The callouses on the tips of his left hand, the ones that scratched at your palms whenever you held it. It was always rougher after band practice or when he came down from his apartment twenty minutes late after needing to perfect one of his wicked solos—like the one he was performing now.

Those hands that you thought about sliding in between your thighs. Opening you up. Teasing you for wearing a garter belt to hold up your fishnets. Leaving little bites along your neck as he questioned why those were so lucky in the first place and asking you how lucky you thought you’d get tonight.

You had to make yourself stop thinking about it, trying to dance your desire away.

But you looked up at Eddie who was looking down at you. And there was something in his eyes, something blown out and downright dirty. You couldn’t help but stare back, giving him a wicked grin before moving your hips around. And if you made sure he could see your garter belt, well, maybe you didn’t care anymore.

Because you saw his face go red and a smile meet his lips and suddenly you were thinking that maybe there was something more there. ‘Cause he wasn’t looking at Steve. He was looking at you. And when he finished his final belt of the night, he didn’t throw his guitar pick at Steve. He threw it at you.

“Oh em gee, is that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie turned with a grin, watching you comically twisting your foot and pretending to be bashful.

“Hey, you a fan?”

You nodded, batting your eyes. “I’m, like, your biggest fan. You’re so talented. Can I get your autograph?”

He smiled, nodding generously. “Of course, of course. Anything for my fans.”

Giggling, you dropped your act and hugged him. Even at his sweatiest, you never cared. It wasn’t like you weren’t sweaty from dancing all night. “In all seriousness, you were great. Like always.”

“Ah, thanks,” he replied, placing his chin on your head briefly before pulling back. “I really do appreciate it. You were killing it in the crowd.”

You smirked, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you give it your all every fucking time.”

You did a little dance as you teetered from side-to-side. “It’s so much fun! I can’t wait for the day you can play somewhere where we can mosh, ‘cause I’ll be the one to start it.”

“You think you’ll be able to handle it?” he teased.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Fuck yes I will. I’ll be bloody and gross by the end of it and it’ll be awesome. I swear, you underestimate—"

“Whoo!”

You both turned, watching Steve jog over. And as he approached, you felt all happiness drain from your limbs.

Because Steve had a wide smile on his face and he was fist bumping the air and he was drawing near, excitement flooding his features with flushed cheeks and sweat beading on his forehead and—

Steve kissed Eddie.

He actually kissed him.

And you couldn’t focus on any of the details.

No, you weren’t going to keep torturing yourself like that.

So, you just…left.

Eddie pushed Steve back.

“What the hell was that, Harrington?”

Steve laughed. “Can I not kiss you?”

“I mean. I don’t—” Eddie sighed, shaking his head. He looked around the room for you, immediately having the urge to apologize. “I don’t know, man. Sorry.”

“Listen, I think what you did up there was very, very sexy,” Steve said loudly, placing a finger on Eddie’s chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Eddie simply nodded. “Uh, yeah, dude. Thanks.”

“Did you wanna get a snack at that diner after you pack up? We could even grab the girls and hang.”

Eddie really wanted to find you instead. He wanted to know if you saw Steve kiss him and if you really thought they were something more. He wanted to ask more about whoever this Gertrude was and if there was a reason you kept this from him until tonight. More than anything else, he wanted to know if you were okay.

But you just…left.

Your head was spinning, and it wasn’t going to be long before you completely broke down. A pool of nausea rested in your stomach, bubbling up your throat by the second. You made your way out of the bar, the humid air doing nothing to help. Tears collected in your eyes, threatening to spill over and smear your eyeliner even more than it already had during the show. Maybe it didn’t fucking matter anymore.

The door opened behind you; Robin’s voice heard above the music as she called out your name. You turned then, pausing as she ran over.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You nodded, but it felt more like a shrug than anything else. “Yeah, I’m good. Just need to leave.” Trying to conceal the sniffle, you scuffed your Converse against the gravel. “Steve and Eddie are back inside. Maybe y’all can go out or something.”

“Without you?”

When you finally made eye contact with Robin, you knew she understood. She was giving you that look, the one that called bullshit without having to actually verbalize it. She knew that you knew. You knew that she knew.

“I’m actually feeling nauseous, so I think I should go home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah—” you started before leaning over and puking onto a tree.

Well, nothing was going to sober you up more than that.

You felt Robin’s hands making sure your hair didn’t get in your face.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

You nodded as you stood up again. “Yeah, it’s probably the dab.”

Robin crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at you. “You know, Eddie said you felt sick the other week, too.”

You looked at her with narrowed eyes. Saying nothing, you wiped the vomit from your mouth. Just say it, Robin,you thought bitterly. Just fucking get it over with. Call me out. I dare you.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, do something about it,” she said, shrugging. “Say something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her coded sentence. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks, Robin. Have fun with Eddie and Steve. I’ll see you later.”

Rushing off to your car, you tried to keep your sobs from spilling out from your mouth. And if anyone saw you, well, you couldn’t quite seem to care anymore.

Steve and Robin kept the conversation going as they sat in the little 24/7 diner down the street from The Hidey-Hole. Eddie was bored out of his mind. Robin told him that you got sick from the dab and decided to go home. And, sure, that might be the reason you left. But in the middle of a sentence? In the middle of a conversation? Without saying goodbye?

It wasn’t like you at all.

Eddie tried to focus on shoveling eggs and hash browns into his mouth, washing everything down with black coffee and a helping of chocolate milk. The high was coming down with each bite. He didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t there to tell him you didn’t want chocolate milk before stealing his. It wasn’t fun if you weren’t ordering two plates of food and swearing you would finish everything before begging him to eat half of it.

It just wasn’t fun without you.

Steve nudged him. Eddie looked up reluctantly. He wanted to say something snarky and rude about how Steve was barely paying attention and how stupid it was for him to pretend he had when he kissed him. He wanted to scream at Steve that you were more engaged than he was and what excuse did he have when they were supposed to be going out. He wanted to push his way out of the booth and go track you down.

Instead, he asked, “What?”

Steve pointed up at himself. “Did you like the eyeliner? I think it added a nice touch.”

That had been the first time Eddie even noticed. “Oh, yeah. Yeah,” he stumbled, scrambling for a white lie. “It looks good, dude.”

Eddie didn’t last much longer after that. He waited for the waitress to come by, nearly begging her for his check and getting the fuck out of there before Steve and Robin could suggest going with him. He stalked back to his van, the band already packed up and gone for the night.

With a sense of false hope, he looked over at the spot your car had been in, now taken by someone else.

Maybe he should’ve ran outside to find you before you slipped away.

When he started out of the parking lot, he could’ve turned on something heavy. Something to make his ears bleed and the fuzz to distract from the incessant thunder and lightning in his head.

Instead, he searched for that song you sang at karaoke. That Eurythmics one that you adored so much, always a sucker for some dark Eighties-esque synth. The strength of the lead singer, all tough and frustrated before saying the most bittersweet shit he’d ever heard.

And so, he listened to it, weaving through the streets and banging on his steering wheel with every red light. Road rage turning the thunder and lightning into something more intense, something more vicious. He couldn’t help but wish his lips were on yours as he thanked you for wearing your fishnets and desperately clawed at the garters underneath your dress. Worshipping you in the hush of the night. Without Robin. Without Steve. Without fucking Gertrude.

“And I want you. And I want you. And I want you so it’s an

obsession.”

The lines kept repeating themselves, over and over with each chorus. Echoing his feelings, ruining him from ever escaping these fucking thoughts of something else. A future, a moment in time where he had you and everything was allowed to make sense again.

“Annie Lennox,” he said, sighing and clucking his tongue. “Fucking Annie Lennox.”

When you stepped inside your apartment that night, you couldn’t help but let out a scream, walking over to the kitchen table and kicking a chair over. Tears slid down your cheeks, gushing and spilling over. None of this was how it was supposed to be. None of this made any fucking sense anymore.

Eddie didn’t want you. He never did.

He wanted Steve. And you didn’t have to like it, but god dammit you had to endure it.

It was so strange, the way he could break you.

You fell to the floor, trying to physically hold yourself together. But you could feel the guitar pick still in the pocket of your dress, growing heavier by the second. You pulled it out and tried to look at it through the tears, accidentally smearing eyeliner on the damn thing.

Annie Lennox’s voice sat in your skull, repeating her demented lyrics over and over.

“It’s guilt edged, glamorous, and sleek by design.

You know it’s jealous by nature, false and unkind.

It’s hard and restrained and it’s totally cool.

It touches and it teases as you stumble in the debris.

And I want you.”

Taglist: @mrsjellymunson

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #best friend!Eddie x reader

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xo-valxntine · 1 year

Text

Vapor (Y. Okkotsu)

you make it sound so sweet when you lie to me

pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

synopsis: you and yuuta have been dating for a little over a year and he’s hopelessly in love with you. he’d do anything for you, but your feelings for yuuta have been fading for awhile now. you feel guilty that you’ve been lying to him about it and you decide it’s time to break it off, but yuuta isn’t ready to let you go

cws: angst, established relationship, breakup sex, yuuta calls you beautiful & pretty girl, LOTS of kissing, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cervix touching, creampie, au (modern times/no curses) wc: ~2,700

a/n: i love 5sos so much (fun fact they’re my favorite band) and i was listening to their song vapor and immediately thought of yuuta. writing this honestly broke my heart i love yuuta sm and he deserves the world :( anyway i hope you enjoy

It was late in the afternoon and the sun had just began to set. You watched from your balcony as the hues of orange and blue worked together to create a beautiful picture before you. The scene that unfolded was peaceful, but you felt the exact opposite. Your mind was racing with thoughts.

You and Yuuta had been dating for a little over a year now and it had been great, it really had, but truth be told you could tell your emotions for Yuuta had changed long before the two of you reached your first year anniversary. You’re not exactly sure when it happened, but slowly you noticed how the little things you once loved (could you even say you loved them?) and adored became more of a nuisance. How you slowly noticed small things he did put you on edge instead of relaxing you. And it wasn’t Yuuta’s fault. No, it was definitely you. You had changed since dating him and you were no longer sure if the two of you fit together. No, that wasn’t right. You knew that the two of you no longer fit together. You still told Yuuta “I love you” everyday, but each day you could feel it becoming more of a lie. You felt guilty, lying to him like that. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved better than you. And that’s what you planned on telling him when he got home from work. You still weren’t exactly sure how you were going to word it. You knew no matter how it came out it would absolutely devastate Yuuta.

You’re too absorbed in your thoughts to realize that the sun has set before you. In fact, it’s the sound of the balcony door opening that pulls you back into reality. Your eyes find Yuuta’s dark ones lined with those dark circles that never seemed to fade. Despite the dark circles, his eyes sparkled and he had a goofy grin plastered on his face. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi Beautiful.” Yuuta greets you as he sits down in the patio chair across from you.

“Hi Yuu. How was work?” You ask, fiddling with the drawstrings of the hoodie you were wearing.

“It was okay, nothing too interesting today. Did you have a nice day?” Yuuta asks you.

You hum in reply and then silence washes over the two of you. The silence between the two of you wasn't anything new. Early on in your relationship the two of you found yourselves enjoying each other’s presence in silence, but recently it started becoming awkward and uncomfortable. At least, you thought so.

“Yuuta, I need to talk to you about something.” You say, quietly.

“What is it, beautiful?” Yuuta asks. You feel your heart twinge at the use of his nickname for you.

Your thoughts start racing once more and you try to find the right words. You think deeply and subconsciously twirl the drawstrings on your hoodie around your fingers.

“It’s—I want to—“ Your stuttering is cut off by Yuuta.

“I know.” His voice is so quiet you’re not sure you hear him. Your eyes meet his and you can see the sadness in them.

“How—What—“ Yuuta cuts you off once more.

“I’ve known for a while now. I just thought maybe it’d blow over.” Yuuta says, looking at you with a sad smile.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Yuuta keeps his sad smile and shakes his head. Silence washes over the two of you again and it feels worse than the last. His eyes that were filled with happiness were now filled with melancholy. Yuuta’s eyes dart across your face before looking away.

You weren’t sure why you thought you could hide something like that from him. Of course he knew how you were feeling. Yuuta knew you better than you knew yourself.

“It’s not anything you did. I just think—I just think you deserve someone better than me.” You say breaking the silence. Yuuta shakes his head and looks at you with tear filled eyes.

“There isn’t someone better. It’s you.” Yuuta whispers. “It’ll always be you.”

You feel your heart sink at his words.

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice breaking.

The tears that threatened to spill were now slowly falling down your face. You knew this was going to hurt, but you didn’t realize how much it would hurt. You were too scared to look at Yuuta. Scared if you looked at his face another part of you would break.

“It’s okay.”

You’re not sure if it’s you or himself that he’s trying to reassure, but you both knew that it wasn’t okay. You’re doing your best to wipe your tears away, but they fall faster than you can wipe them. As you’re trying to blink them away, Yuuta appears in your blurry vision.

“Don’t cry, pretty girl.” Yuuta says, brushing your tears away with his thumb.

Here he was comforting you, like you weren’t the one that broke his heart. God, you didn’t deserve him. That thought only made tears spill down your cheeks faster.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to choke out between your cries. Yuuta only shushes you and tenderly rubs his thumb against your cheek.

You’re too caught up in your own cries to notice that Yuuta is also crying. He’s heartbroken at the thought of losing you and he’s racking his brain for where he went wrong. Except, it wasn’t anything he did wrong. It was you.

“I love you.” His voice is quiet when it comes out.

“I know. I know.” You whisper back.

Yuuta rubs his thumb against your cheek once more before placing a gentle kiss on your lips and you can’t help, but return it. You could taste the salt of his tears on your lips as they melded perfectly with his. He felt so familiar, so comforting and you could feel yourself relaxing into him. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were with your lips, how much you cared for him, how much he meant to you. You wanted to kiss him with ferocity, but Yuuta had other plans. Yuuta kisses you with such tenderness, it’s almost as if he’s scared of you disappearing right before him. He wants to savor every moment with you, memorize the way your lips feel against his. Finally, when Yuuta pulls away you see his tear stained and you feel your heart shatter.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” Yuuta whispers, brushing one of your tears away with his thumb. You close your eyes tightly refusing to look at him.

“Y/N.” His voice is hushed when it comes out. You still refuse to look at him.

“Y/N please.” Yuuta begs, his voice cracking slightly.

You finally look at him, capturing his tear stained face in your eyes once more. You close your eyes again, trying to will the image away, but it’s burned into the back of your mind. Finally, you nod in acceptance, agreeing to grant his wish. Yuuta cups your cheeks and places another soft kiss on your lips. This one isn’t as long though. It’s quick and the next thing you know, Yuuta is pulling you by your hand, leading you back into the apartment.

As Yuuta guides you to the bedroom, stopping along the way to press needy kisses to your lips. When you reach the bedroom Yuuta carefully backs you into the bed, refusing to pull away from your lips. Your back connects with the plush comforter and Yuuta is on top of you in an instant. He travels his kisses from your mouth to your jawline, peppering tender kisses along your exposed flesh. You can’t help the small whimper that escapes your mouth when he kisses the sweet spot under your jaw. Yuuta takes the sound as encouragement and sucks gently on the spot as his hand slips up your sweatshirt. He rubs small circles on your hip with his thumb causing you to get lost in the pleasure of his touch. You can feel the heat starting to build up in your core as Yuuta nips at the skin on your neck.

“Yuu please.” You plead, but Yuuta ignores you, continuing to leave love marks on your neck.

You let out a whine when Yuuta sucks a little too harshly and you swear you can feel him smile against your neck.

“Please.” You plead once again.

Yuuta sucks harshly on your neck a final time before pulling away. Carefully, Yuuta pulls your sweatshirt off of you and tosses it somewhere in the room. He takes a moment to admire your exposed form and traces a finger down your freshly bruised neck.

“So pretty.” Yuuta whispers and you shudder under his touch.

Yuuta places a quick kiss on your lips before moving down to your chest and leaving a small trail of bruises along each of your breasts. When he’s satisfied with his work Yuuta slips one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks. A quiet moan escapes your mouth as he swirls and flicks his tongue against your hard nipple. He uses his hand to give the other one attention, squeezing it gently and then flicking it with his fingers. He takes his time, giving each one proper attention before traveling his lips down your stomach. He gets on his knees at the end of the bed and pulls you towards him so that your hips are sitting on the edge of the bed. He quickly yanks off your sweatpants and panties with one motion and you sigh at the feeling of your wet core being exposed to the cool air. Yuuta places teasing kisses down your thighs and takes his time grazing his lips along the insides, nipping and sucking his way up to your sweet spot. You let out a gasp of pleasure when Yuuta teasingly swipes his tongue up your folds. His tongue circles around your clit and he sucks gently earning a soft moan from your lips.

It didn’t matter that your heart no longer loved him, because your body still did. Loved the way his tongue slipped effortlessly in and out of you, loved the way his tongue swirled around the clit, and loved the way he knew exactly what made your body squirm. And it was obvious due to the way your hips rose in pleasure and the cries of pleasure that slipped out your mouth, which only encouraged Yuuta’s ministrations on your needy cunt.

“Y-yuu d-don’t stop. ‘m c-close.” You manage to stutter out.

This only causes Yuuta to flick and curl his tongue against you, causing you to whimper more. Not long after your high hits and it hits hard. You’re a whimpering mess under his tongue and Yuuta quickly pins down your hips as they try to lift from the mattress. He uses his tongue to guide you through your high and continues to swipe his tongue against you even after your high has passed.

“T-too s-sensitive.” You whimper, trying to move your hips away, but Yuuta has you locked in place with the intention of lapping up every drop of your mess.

Your legs are trembling when he finally decides to resurface and wrap your lips in a kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips and the way he presses his tongue into your mouth is dizzying. Finally, Yuuta pulls away and strokes your cheek tenderly.

“My pretty girl.” Yuuta whispers, looking at you with such love and sadness in his eyes and it makes your heart sink.

“I love you.” Yuuta tells you, still holding your cheek. “‘m gonna show you how much I love you.”

And with that, Yuuta is freeing himself from his jeans and carefully pinning you down under his figure. Yuuta places a loving kiss on your lips as he lines himself up at your entrance and you let out a small whimper at the feeling of his tip being so close. He continues to kiss you as he slowly pushes the tip inside your needy walls and he quickly swallows the moans that leave your mouth with his own. Yuuta travels his lips down your bruised neck once more as he sinks deeper into you.

“Yuu-“ You whine, but he ignores you and continues to inch into your folds.

He lets out a deep groan when your walls clench tightly around his length, which only causes you to clench around him again.

“Feels s’good when you squeeze my cock like that.” Yuuta mumbles against your neck.

Yuuta continues to slowly sink into you until his hips are completely flush with yours and he’s filling you completely.

“Yuu please. Need you to move.” You whimper out.

But Yuuta ignores you, enjoying the way you’re squeezing his cock. Yuuta presses a gentle kiss on the side of your head, right next to your ear.

“I love you so much.”

You shut your eyes tightly at his words, trying to ignore how they make your heart flutter. You take the moment to enjoy how his body is flush against yours and how connected the two of you are. You feel tears begin to prick their way into your eyes, because you know the two of you will never be like this again. Maybe for the first time in months, the words aren’t a lie when they tumble from your mouth.

“I love you too.”

After hearing that Yuuta gives you a final kiss and begins to move. He pulls out of you achingly slow, leaving only the tip, before sinking back into you at the same pace. With each thrust he’s whispering how much he loves you and you’re not sure if it’s his words or if it’s his cock is dragging against your velvety walls that has tears streaming down your cheeks. Yuuta kisses your tears away and steadily picks up the pace of his thrusts.

“Feels s’good Yuu.” You manage to gasp out between his thrusts and your tears.

His thrusts are long and deep, hitting every part you needed them to. You were completely focused on how good his cock felt inside of you. It felt so good that it was practically dizzying.

As his pace quickens, you hook your legs around his back hoping for him to penetrate you deeper and you let out a cry when his tip brushes your cervix. Yuuta lets out a string of curses when he feels you squeezing around his cock as he tries to slip in and out of you.

“‘m g-gonna cum, Yuu.” You whimper through the pleasure.

Yuuta only picks up his pace, completely forgoing his loving thrusts. He quickly latches his thumb to your clit and makes small figure eights edging you closer to your high. The feeling of his cock kissing your cervix and the way his thumb flicks against your clit is mind-numbing. You’re totally focused on the pleasure Yuuta is bringing you.

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” Yuuta demands.

And you oblige him. You let out a string of curses and something that resembles Yuuta’s name as you go tumbling over the edge. Yuuta guides you through your high and then continues to fuck your needy cunt.

“P-please Y-Yuu.” You plead. “T-too s-sensitive.”

Yuuta doesn’t pay you any attention as he continues you to fuck your tight, wet hole, completely encapsulated by the way his cock is dragging along your walls. He’s completely focused on the way you’re driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“F-fuck ‘m g-gonna cum.” Yuuta practically whimpers, as his thrusts become sloppier.

He continues bucking his hips against yours, and with one final thrusts he’s painting your walls white. Yuuta’s breathing is messy as he collapses on top of you and plants several kisses against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment, enjoying each other before Yuuta slides onto the bed next to you. You take that as a sign to sit up and move away, but Yuuta stops you before you can leave the bed.

“Please, just stay with me for tonight.”

“Yuuta—“

“Please.” He begs.

And you’re not sure why, but you lie back down next to him.

#yuuta okkotsu #jjk yuta #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta x you #jujutsu kaisen okkotsu #okkotsu x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen smut

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buffyromanoff · 11 months

Text

I dont know anything but I know I miss you

Highschool AU. Natasha Romanoff x reader

Inspired by the Taylor Swift song ''Betty'', requested by @robinandnat (hope u like it!)

Word count: 1063

Summary: School is over and so is y/n and Nat's relationship...or is it?

Warnings: Teen angst, FLUFF, happy ending

Did I make the right choice? Was it truly the best for both of us? Do I still love her? Countless questions raced through your mind, tormenting you as you tried to make sense of your actions. Tears streamed down your face as you hurried home, desperate to avoid anyone seeing you in such a pathetic state. Unfortunately, hiding seemed impossible.

Whispers filled the hallways, making it clear that you weren't very good at hiding your pain. Thank god today was the last day of school cause there was no way you could survive having everyone’s eyes on you.

Nat was everything you could have ever asked for. She had this incredible way of caring for you, making you laugh, and being so incredibly smart. And let's not forget how she'd always lend a helping hand with your homework. She was the kind of girlfriend who had your back no matter what. But deep down, you couldn't help but feel like a piece of crap. How could you break her heart like this? You kept telling yourself it was for her own good, but the question tormented you: Was it really?

Lately you've been going through a strange phase, and despite Nat's unwavering support, you pushed her away. It's tough to be in a relationship when you don't even know yourself well enough, so, you convinced yourself she'd be better off without you.

As the weeks went by, you couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of missing her. You'd ask your mutual friends how she was doing, desperately seeking any news. At first, she was devastated, just like you, but somehow she managed to hold it together better than you did. Your closest friends couldn't fathom why you broke it up. "You and Nat were made for eachother y/n! You totally deserve her!" they'd say trying to lift up your confidence and self esteem. Little did they know, there was a secret you never shared, not even with Nat herself. It all started when you accidentally overheard her friends gossiping about you during lunch. They all agreed that you weren't up to Nat's level, and unfortunately, those words stabbed you in the heart.

Suddenly your phone rang. It was a text message from your mutual friend Wanda:

-I was at Nat’s today helping her set everything up for tonight and y/n……….she wouldn't shut up about you -

-Tonight? What are talking about? - You texted her, but Wanda was known for her late replies.

Your day went on as usual.

Summer used to be your favorite part of the year, but they were no fun without a lover.

Trying to distract yourself, you started the daunting task of tidying up your chaotic bedroom. This was your first real breakup and you were not handling it well.

As you were about to finish cleaning everything up, you found a neatly wrapped package.

What was in it? You had no clue. You opened it up and now everything made sense.

NATASHA’S BIRTHDAY PARTY!.

Months ago, you had tirelessly scoured every library in town looking for an old copy of a vintage book your then-girlfriend wanted but wasn't finding anywhere. You sighed. You were saving it for her birthday. How unfortunate.

Your phone buzzed: It was Wanda, finally:

-Bday party dummy. Dont tell me you forgot :/ she really misses you btw-

‘’Fuck it’’ you muttered. And without giving it much of a thought, you put on your best outfit and hopped on your skateboard, heading straight for the party.

When you passed by her house, you couldn't breathe. The house was packed with people- her friends, including those who believed you weren't right for her. What were you doing here!? Go back! Go back!- Nervousness took over your body, causing you to trip and fall off your skateboard. And of course, people laughed.

When you stood up, you saw Nat standing on the porch of her house, looking at you.

She appeared…happy?

‘y/n…I- what are you doing here?’’ she asked, attempting to hide her smile, yet her eyes sparkled with delight.

‘Happy birthday’’ you said, handing her the gift. The sheer joy on her face made you grin like a fool as she opened it.

"Oh my god! Where—how did you find it? Thank you, y/n...I don't know what to say’’.

"You’re welcome Natty’’. Wait- did you really just call her that? Who refers to their ex with a pet name?. "Well, um, have a good night, Nat." You reached for your skateboard, ready to make your exit, but she stopped you.

‘Wait!’’. She sounded desperate. ‘’You don't have to go, it doesn't have to be like this. I know you don't like me anymore but-’’ . She sniffled. ‘I miss you....please stay?’’.

Natasha didn't hate you. Natasha missed you. SHE MISSED YOU.

Your heart was racing, everyone was watching the scene and you knew there were only 2 ways this could end: You could walk away or…

In a bold move, you dropped your skateboard and, cupping her face in your hands, you kissed her.

The wooing noises and teasing remarks from her friends were making you so embarrassed but you didn't care. Nothing mattered. No one’s thoughts did. The only thing that mattered is that you loved Nat and she loved you.

--------------------

As the party came to an end, you found a quiet moment to sit down and have a heartfelt conversation with her.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice my friends saying those things, y/n," she expressed, clearly upset.

"What? Baby, no, it's not your fault," you reassured her, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I was the one who closed off and failed to communicate what I was going through... and it led to hurting you."

"Okay, hold on, no crying on my birthday," Nat interrupted, laughing softly as she gently wiped away your tears. Leaning in, she pressed a sweet kiss against your cheek. "We're together now," she whispered, her arms wrapping you in a warm embrace. "Everything will be alright, sweetie."

You mumbled a response, your voice barely audible. "What was that, hon?" her eyes filled with curiosity. "Did you like my present then?" You said.

She nodded with a smile spreading across her face. "Yes, but I like this one even more," she confessed, tightening her embrace.

Oh, how you’d missed her.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romnoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff highschool au #marvel fanfiction #request #fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction

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isas-bathbombs · 3 months

Text

Is this RL character a swiftie?

Angie

oh absolutely. she’s annoying about it too

she has gotten into arguments over it

her twitter is just her bullying jake gyllenhaal and kanye west

she’s that one swiftie who tricked people into believing starbucks would give them a free drink if they streamed lover

her fav songs are definitely new romantics, 22 and shake it off

i think her fav era is lover

biggest ME! defender. she was devastated when “hey kids, spelling is fun!” was removed

Dani

probably not, but she hears it a lot because of angie and cass

its unavoidable for her so she probably knows more songs than the average person

doesn’t have strong opinions on her, but vibes with some of her music

would defend her despite not knowing shit

her hopeless romantic ass would love enchanted

Bela

no but she’d LOVE evermore and folklore’s lyricism if she gave it a chance

she would love the lakes and cowboy like me

hears a lot from cass and is lowkey annoyed by it

but she would 100% go with cass and dani to a concert if they asked her to come

she’d even make friendship bracelets for it. its so funny to imagine her having a meltdown bc it’s actually super tedious and the string keeps breaking and the beads go missing or shooting to her eye

ur telling me swift didnt write mad woman and the archer about bela? :/

Cass

YES. THE BIGGEST SWIFTIE

her fav album is 1989. she cried when TV came out

she was first introduced to taylor swift from the hannah montana movie and the song crazier changed her life

she forced elena to queue for eras tour tickets with her

she even cancelled rehearsals to get those damn tickets

make a joke about taylor's jet and she'll get mad

“im sorry did mother nature write style? yeah i dont think so.”

she listens to how you get the girl like its real instructions

probably has also gotten into online arguments about her too

when red TV came out, she asked you to temporarily break up with her for 10 mins so she can experience all too well properly /j

is a james hater without realizing she’s kinda him

the type of person who would pause a conversation and go “wait i got a taylor swift lyric that fits this”

Donna

no but would hear a lot from angie

similar to bela, she’d love evermore and folklore if she gave it a chance

she would’ve loved hoax and happiness

Alcina

has beef with taylor for absolutely no reason

one time cass would be playing the piano and she’d be like “oh wow that’s beautiful. what piece is this?” and then lost it when cass said it was a taylor swift song

she’d love false god if she listened to it tho. you’d probably be able to get her to like taylor if she listened to the right songs

Miranda

a hater /j

#shoutout to v for the cass jet joke #i actually have no idea with miranda sorry #i just dont think she’d be a fan #i can make a whole post of just swiftie tweets that are something angie would post #resident lover #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #angie beneviento #donna beneviento #mother miranda #taylor swift

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loveinhawkins · 11 months

Text

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 ao3

For what seems like a very long time, Dustin can only feel things. Steve’s arms around him, Steve’s thumb rubbing up and down, up and down along his back. His face pressed against a soft cotton T-shirt: it’s Steve’s, still warm, as if he had ran to the car straight from his bed.

Gradually, like a song on the radio losing static, slowly becoming clearer, Dustin starts to pick up on other things.

More whispers, too soft to make out words. A door quietly opening, then closing.

Steve’s voice, a gentle murmur; his lips pressed to Dustin’s crown. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s gonna be—hey, you’re okay, Dustin, you’re okay.”

It hurts.

It hurts because the last time he heard Steve speak like that, he was limping out of The Upside Down, and Steve just kept going, kept talking even as Dustin sat with him in the hospital corridor, even as his voice threatened to break.

His voice got higher and higher, more and more fragile, until Dustin got the impression that Steve was saying it because he desperately needed it to be true; that Steve needed him to be okay when everything else wasn’t.

Downy pillow. Sheets against his skin. A gentle smell: the fabric softener Eddie uses mixed with Steve’s cologne. It helps, knowing that it’s there, helps him drift back to the here and now. He’s not stuck in…

“There you are,” Steve’s saying, and Dustin blinks again.

He’s lying on his side, in Eddie’s bed. Steve’s lying down facing him, thumb brushing across his face, where the tears have dried tackily on his cheeks.

“Hey,” Steve says, and if he didn’t still have that devastated look on his face, he’d sound so normal, like he’s just driving them around some place.

Dustin’s breath comes out in two punctuated gasps; he doesn’t think he’s ever gonna feel normal again.

“Oh, bud,” Steve says, “shh. You’re okay. Can… can you tell me what’s going on?”

Dustin looks around the room, sees the evidence of Steve already having made himself a home here: a couple of his T-shirts folded in the corner, his copy of Peter Pan on Eddie’s bookshelf.

You’re moving on, Dustin thinks, everyone’s moving on, and I’m just stuck here, and I can’t get out.

I’m only gonna hold you back.

“I just—I feel… cold,” he gets out, half-mumbling the words into the pillow. “All… all the time.”

Steve’s hand reaches out, rubs up and down his forearm. There’s no goosebumps to be felt, but he does it anyway.

“How long?” Steve asks.

Dustin gives a weak shrug with one shoulder, which is an answer in itself.

Steve closes his eyes for a moment. Opens his mouth to breathe in and out, deliberately slow. He does this sometimes, like he thinks that if he breathes as calmly as possible, he can push stuff back. Dustin’s heard it before—after Steve had pulled him out of the tunnels, and Steve kept a hold of him, one hand clamped around his shoulder. A week after Starcourt, when some of his neighbourhood set off late fireworks.

When Eddie…

“You could’ve come to me,” Steve says. He opens his eyes, looks so pained, and the guilt spreads up from Dustin’s stomach, wrapping around his lungs, his heart. “You can always come to me, okay? For anything.”

“I… I know. M’sorry.”

But Steve shakes his head. “No, don’t—you don’t have to—I missed it.”

“You didn’t,” Dustin says. The guilt’s in his throat now, makes his voice come out strangled. “I didn’t want you to see.”

Didn’t want anyone to see.

Steve’s still shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have missed it,” he whispers, and then he tries to take another deep breath in, but he stutters on the inhale, again, and again—

He’s crying.

Dustin’s only seen Steve cry—properly cry—once before, and even then it was on accident: going into the hospital restrooms at the wrong moment, finding Steve on the floor—not even in a cubicle, as if he’d just collapsed there. The noise set Dustin’s hair on end.

He’d run out before Steve could notice him.

He doesn’t run now.

He shuffles over clumsily, arms trapped in the sheets, and shoves his head under Steve’s armpit.

Steve turns, shudders against him. Dustin can feel his tears wet his hair—which is maybe kind of gross, but he wouldn’t move away for the world.

Steve calms quickly, apart from the occasional gasping breath of errant sobs.

Maybe the quiet makes it easier for Dustin to admit.

“Sometimes I…” He swallows, squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see even a glimpse of Steve’s face when he says this. “I think I should’ve been left back—back there.”

Steve goes still. “Why?”

Dustin shrugs. “I don’t know. E-everyone else can… why can’t I—” He sighs in frustration. “I don’t know how to—”

“You’re ranking,” Steve says knowingly. “Quit it.”

“Huh?”

“There’s no list, y’know? Of, like…” Steve sighs. “Who’s had it worse, or… Dustin, life doesn’t work like that.”

“But—”

“What, you think you’ve got let off lightly, so you’re never allowed to have a hard time, ever?”

“I didn’t…” Dustin trails off. He doesn’t know where to go from here. He hasn’t known for a long, long time.

“Do you wanna… talk about it?”

“It?”

“What happened, Dustin,” Steve says, so patiently.

Dustin shuts his eyes even tighter. “You were there.”

A pause.

“Not for all of it,” Steve says carefully.

Dustin stays silent.

Steve gets the hint, because after a minute or two, he speaks again—in that light, teasing drawl.

“That idea you had was pretty dumb,” he says, gently flicks Dustin’s forehead. “What were you gonna do, call El and get her to open a Gate? Train another demodog with snacks?”

Dustin snorts. “Hadn’t worked out the logistics,” he says with a fragile smile.

Steve huffs. “Yeah, very dumb.” He ruffles Dustin’s hair. “I’d have followed you right in, anyway.”

Steve falls asleep eventually. He tries not to; Dustin can feel every time he jolts awake—and then his arm slowly goes slack, and he loses the fight.

The cold is back with a vengeance. Dustin grinds his teeth against it, against the quickening breaths. His heartbeat is rapid again all of a sudden—seems so overly loud, that he’s almost worried he’ll wake Steve up from that alone.

So, so cautiously, he slips out of Steve’s hold. Looks back with a pang—Steve’s fallen asleep with the back of one hand pressed to his forehead, a last ditch attempt to stay awake.

Dustin holds his breath. Tiptoes to the bathroom.

He turns the cold water on, sticks his wrists under it; he’d read somewhere that it helps.

But then he reaches for the soap, hands slippery, and—

Sink with the plug in, filled with hot water. He hadn’t noticed just how much water he’d used—if he sticks his hands all the way in, it’s going to overflow. On top of everything else he’s done, he’s going to flood Eddie’s bathroom.

Fingers shaking. Ripples in the water. Blood falling, sinking…

The plug gets pulled out. Dustin watches it all happen with numb fascination—he doesn’t know how it’s happening, he’s not doing anything. The water spirals down with a wet gurgle.

“Hey,” Nancy says, voice soft. She picks up the bar of soap, and then she turns on the faucet again, creates a lather. She guides Dustin’s hands under the running water—warm enough to clean, not hot enough to hurt.

Dustin lets it all happen. The sensations are delayed, as if coming through molasses: the blood and dirt shifting from under his nails. The water washing it all away.

Then Nancy’s got a towel, and she’s drying each finger so carefully, so gently, and Dustin can’t take it.

He doesn’t understand why she’s here, why she’s with him, when the real crisis is unfolding just down the hall, why is she wasting her time with—

“Hey,” Nancy says again, and her eyebrows are drawn. “You were great, you know?”

Dustin shakes his head. “I—”

“You were.”

“I messed up,” Dustin whispers, and he screws his eyes shut, half-collapsing into her. “I messed up, I messed up, I—”

“You didn’t. Oh, Dustin, no—”

A shout, followed by running footsteps, getting closer. Steve.

Dustin feels a lurch of panic, turns Nancy so her back’s to the door, still in her arms, urging, “Don’t let him see, please don’t let him—”

The door bursts open.

“Pulse is still going,” Steve says breathlessly, “Rob’s with him, there’s—jus’ waiting on—ambulance—” He’s clumsy with his words, stumbling over them, and he suddenly goes quiet before he says, much clearer, “Oh my god, is he okay?”

Dustin thinks that, surely, he’s talking about Eddie.

But then he feels Nancy mess with the top of his hair, her touch soft, and she says, “I’ve got him.”

Steve exhales. “Okay, okay.”

The squeak of the faucet, water running again; Steve is washing his hands. Dustin doesn’t need to see to know what they’ll look like.

“I’m sorry, bud, it must hurt,” Steve says, “we’ll get someone to look at it soon, okay?”

For a moment, Dustin wonders what the hell he’s talking about, then realises it’s about his busted ankle. He almost laughs; he’s certain he’s never cared less about something in his whole life.

A pause, then Steve’s hand is resting in between his shoulder blades.

“You did so good,” Steve says.

Dustin bites down on a scream—why is everyone lying?

Nancy shifts, wraps an arm around him and bears his weight. Dustin keeps his face pressed against her shirt. Doesn’t look. Can’t.

“I’ve got him,” she repeats.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, sounds a bit choked up. Then he adds in a murmured undertone, “Nance, think you should just—um, take him outside.”

Another pause.

“Okay,” is all Nancy says, except now her voice is choked too, and Dustin wants to tell them not to bother, knows that they must be trying to shield him from seeing Eddie again—having everything hidden now won’t make a difference; he can still see his eyes, his mouth, blood so dark it almost looks black—

Dustin gags, doubles over the toilet just in time. He gets down on his knees, tries to be as quiet as possible, but realises too late that he’s left the door ajar; it opens further—slowly, cautiously—and then Eddie is standing there.

“Ah, shit,” he says softly.

He kneels down next to Dustin, puts a hand on his back: rubs in slow, steady circles.

Dustin dry heaves—attempts to do so silently, even when the effort causes a pained spasm in his abdomen.

Eddie inhales sharply. “Don’t make yourself—you don’t need to be quiet.”

“Don’t wanna—” Dustin barely resists the urge to slump against the rim of the toilet. “Don’t wanna wake up Steve.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs. He sounds so sad. “Oh, Dustin, you won’t.”

And Dustin knows it’s not at all what Eddie means, but the thought comes anyway: that Steve is exhausted because of him.

He tries to lift himself up, but his elbows start to shake; Eddie quickly puts his hands on his shoulders, stopping him from falling.

“Woah, woah, take it easy. There’s no rush, yeah? Here, just…”

Eddie moves away. There’s the sound of the faucet running again, then a cold flannel is being pressed gently to the back of Dustin’s neck.

“Take your time,” Eddie says.

Eventually, Dustin moves—gingerly, but he manages to stand up without his stomach roiling. He flushes the toilet, cringing at the noise, and mumbles, “Can you, um. Check I’ve not—not woken him up?”

“You won’t have—” Eddie must see something on his face, because he cuts himself off. Then he says, not unkindly, “Okay, okay. I’ll check,” before leaving the room.

Dustin rinses out his mouth over the sink.

He stands in the hallway, leans against the bathroom door for balance. The bedroom door’s half shut, but he can still make out a glimpse: Eddie, murmuring something to Steve, carefully moving his hand off his face, tucking him in.

It’s done so naturally.

And it’s suddenly so clear that if it was a normal night—as it should have been—Eddie would have been quietly settling into bed next to Steve. But no. Instead Dustin makes his way through to the living room, sees evidence of Eddie having slept on the couch bed, a few blankets all tangled, and feels even worse: he’s shown up and separated them, he’s ruining—

“—feeling okay? Dustin?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Dustin blinks. He’s lost some time again; Eddie’s at the kitchen sink, pouring a glass of water—he keeps looking at Dustin as he does so, some of the water spilling over his hand. He doesn’t seem to notice or care.

He beckons Dustin to the couch before handing over the glass of water—sits down facing him, cross-legged. Hands in his lap, picking at his fingers.

Dustin swallows some water. He feels it stick a bit on the way down, like his throat’s closing up. He limits himself to a few sips. Stops. Presses his lips to the rim of the glass.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His teeth clack against the glass as he speaks. He sets it down.

Eddie just stares at him. His fingers keep twisting, knuckles white, until he’s practically wringing his hands.

“You don’t need to apologise,” he says.

He inhales, on the verge of speech, then hesitates, eyes wide—for a moment, looks in complete despair. It’s almost like he can’t reach Dustin, even though he’s right in front of him.

“If—if there’s anyone who should be—Dustin, I’m sorry. I never—never meant for you to—” He breaks off when a couple of tears fall; he swipes them away harshly, as if furious with himself. “You… you weren’t supposed to see—”

“Don’t,” Dustin says, high-pitched. There’s something wretched and panicked surging up from his throat; for a second, he thinks he’s going to be sick again.

Eddie raises his hands abruptly; they hover in the space between them. “Okay, okay—”

“If I wasn’t—you would’ve been alone, you sh-shouldn’t have been—I d-didn’t want you to be alone—”

“All right, hey—”

“—so don’t,” Dustin pleads, “don’t say that.”

“Okay,” Eddie repeats, barely a whisper. “Okay.” He swallows, then continues, a little louder, “I just… you should never have been put in that—Christ, don’t get me wrong, I’m—God, Dustin, you helped so much, you don’t even—”

Dustin laughs brokenly. “Bullshit.”

Eddie looks utterly heartbroken. “Dustin—”

“I didn’t h-help. Steve saved you.”

“That doesn’t mean that—”

“No, you don’t—Eddie, I-I didn’t do anything.”

And then he can’t stop the rest from coming out, can see and hear it all so clearly: Eddie’s choked breaths tapering off, his chest going still, eyes lifeless and glassy.

And, throughout it all, Dustin just sitting there, useless.

“I sh-should’ve stopped the bleeding, but I—and you weren’t breathing, and I tried to—to count h-how long you’d—but I—I couldn’t even—if Steve hadn’t come, you’d have died, and I would’ve just… just watched it happen.” Dustin’s chest constricts, heavy with disgust and self-loathing. “I almost killed you,” he whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “No. Oh, Jesus Christ. No.” He reaches out, holds Dustin’s face with shaking hands. “If that—if that had—it wouldn’t have been your fault. It wasn’t your fault. Not a g-goddamn bit of it, you hear me?”

Eddie’s voice keeps wobbling, his eyes filling up with tears again—there’s a fragility in that, something Dustin’s only really seen in the boathouse, when he was struck by the fact that while Eddie was older than him, he could still be vulnerable.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Eddie repeats insistently, “sweetheart, I need you to know that.”

And Dustin’s heard Eddie say that word before: heard it said automatically in town, if a little kid cut in front of him, or got too close to the edge of the sidewalk (“Oh, watch your step, sweetheart,”); has heard it said half in jest towards Robin or Nancy.

Most recently, he’s heard it said to Steve, like Eddie’s forgotten he’s still in the room, all casual and light, “Hey, sweetheart, could you grab me a soda?”

But Dustin’s not heard it like this—something desperate.

“Please,” Eddie begs, and Dustin only realises that he’s crying again when Eddie starts wiping away his tears, like Steve had done. “Please don’t shut yourself away.”

Dustin closes his eyes. Thinks about Eddie’s excitement to come home, about Steve singing love songs. The precious lightness they shared.

Everything that he’s ruined.

He opens his eyes. “But you—” he sobs all while trying not to, “—you were so happy.”

“What does that matter?” Eddie breathes, looking horrified. “What the fuck does that matter? Oh. Oh, God, come here.”

Dustin clings to him, hides his tears against the front of Eddie’s shirt.

“You came and saved me at the fucking lowest point of my life,” Eddie says, holding onto him just as tightly. “Dustin, I’m not just here for when things are fun or easy. Christ, I wanna be there for you always, okay? Especially on the bad days. And that’s not—that’s a fucking given, all right? You got me?”

Dustin nods shakily. The utter sincerity in Eddie’s voice makes his eyes burn, aching with fatigue.

Eddie sighs. “Good. Good.”

He’s running a hand through Dustin’s hair, and Dustin has a fuzzy memory of Eddie doing the very same while reading to him in hospital—remembers only catching every third word as the exhaustion caught up to him, then everything fading away.

“I love you,” Eddie says.

Dustin tries to say it back, but is only successful in making a vague noise against Eddie’s shoulder.

He’s so tired.

“Shh,” Eddie’s saying. “Shh, shh.”

He feels himself being gently laid down, his head so heavy. But wasn’t… he had to… something important…

“Shh, it’s okay, you can sleep. It’s okay.”

So he does.

#dustin henderson has ptsd #dustin henderson fic #steve and dustin #dustin and nancy #eddie and dustin #henderfam #steddie #steddie fic #dustin henderson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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hanniluvi · 5 months

Text

( 🔗 ) WINTER WITHOUT YOU — YEONJUN FIC

[ DAY ELEVEN ] of the advent calendar !

( 🔗 ) SYNOPSIS . . . winter has never felt the same for him—maybe it’s because it's a winter without you.

( “ ) PAIRING . . . ex!yeonjun x gn!reader

( 🔗 ) GENRE . . . angst , second chance ? , hopeful ending

( “ ) WARNINGS . . . none that i know of , INSPIRED BY “WINTER WITHOUT YOU” BY XG ~~ WORD COUNT : 1.2K+ ( 1271 lolz ) FEATURING soobie boobie ( soobin ) from txt !

( 🔗 ) NOTE . . . day 11 wooo!! xg decided to drop such a great song for the month of dec, so you know i just had to write a fic inspired by it bc it is so fic worthy. anyways, i hope you enjoy as i believe this should be my first ex au kinda thing !! 🤍

Exiting the crowded room, Yeonjun seeks solace by stepping outside. He slides the glass door closed behind him and settles onto the wooden steps. Despite the chilly weather, he shakes off the cold, merely watching the snowflakes gently cascade. Extending his hand, he lets the snowflakes fall around him, releasing a sigh.

As he reflects, a pang of longing hits him. "This Christmas party would’ve been better if you were here." Running his hand through his hair, he closes his eyes, replaying the painful breakup between the two of you in his mind.

DECEMBER 11TH 2020

“Hey, I have to tell you something,” you sighed heavily over the phone, causing Yeonjun to grow concerned.

“Yeah babe, what’s up?” There's a pause, a long one, and Yeonjun interrupts the silence, “Hello?”

“Please don’t call me that…” you mumbled. “This makes it even harder.”

His heart rate quickens. What were you trying to convey? “YN… what are you saying?”

“We need to break up.”

His heart sank, a feeling of heartbreak consuming him like never before. Typically, he might have accepted it, but not this time. You're the one who stayed by his side for years—his longest relationship. You were a person he trusted, a person he loved with all his heart. And now, you expect him to move on easily?

“Why, YN? Why?” He couldn’t accept it; he wishes this were just a dream.

“Because… because it won’t work out.” The painful simplicity of your response echoes through the phone, leaving him grappling with the harsh reality of your decision.

“Then let’s make it work out,” Yeonjun pleaded, clinging to hope that the two of you could salvage the relationship.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he could sense your frustration, realizing you were holding back the full truth. Why couldn’t you share it?

“Then help me understand, will you?”

“I have to go overseas.” Yeonjun was relieved it wasn’t something more serious or a fault on his part, but the unexpected news proved to be devastating.

“And how will that stop our love?” he questioned, desperately seeking a solution to bridge the gap caused by the impending distance.

“Long distance won’t work. It would be better to call it off so no one gets hurt, especially you.”

“You wouldn’t get hurt if we separated?”

“Yeonjun, that’s not what I’m trying to say—” you paused, sniffling on the other side of the phone, and winced. He must have tried holding back his tears, just for you. “Please don’t cry. I hate when you do that.”

“I hate how you’re doing this to us,” he says, even though he recognizes the selfishness in his words. He wants you, and only you.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I still love you—and I forever will. It just… won’t work out for us. At least not now. And I don’t know how long this will last.” The painful truth lingers in the air, leaving both of you in silence once again.

"I don’t understand, YN. How can you say you still love me and then just... let go?"

“I wish it were that simple, Yeonjun,” you responded with a heavy sigh. “Sometimes love isn't enough, and timing can be cruel. I have to go, and you deserve someone who can be here for you, not someone oceans away.”

“I don’t want someone else, I want you,” he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.

“I know, and that’s what makes this so hard. But it's the right thing to do,” you explained, your own voice strained with emotion.

“We will meet again…okay? I’ll make sure of that. Just don’t contact me, please? I won’t be able to answer.”

“But YN—”

“I have… I have to go. I’m so sorry, Yeonjun. I love you, okay?”

“YN—YN?” he says, already hearing the beeping noises from his side. You hung up on him. Defeated, Yeonjun takes a seat as his legs give up on him. His gaze falls upon the coffee table, where he notices a pristine white bag.

In that bag lies the ring he had planned to propose to you with—a symbol of his vow to be forever yours, a promise that nothing would ever change. Another Christmas was meant to be special for both of you.

But now, he couldn't.

The tears he had been holding back finally started to fall, each drop carrying the weight of shattered plans and the loss of a future that once felt so certain.

He still feels the heartache from that day, and he has never once forgotten about you—not that he wished to, anyway. Like he said himself, how could he forget about you that easily, even if it's been a good three years?

This winter was certainly one of the worse—there was nothing he could do about it.

How badly he wishes to erase such a painful memory. Pulling out his phone, his first instinct is to go on social media, just to distract his mind from thoughts of you, even if it's only for a moment.

However, seeing couples on his for you page is certainly not helping him. Because, if you were here, he bets he would've spammed his story with pictures of you. He could've had pictures of you all smiley, even with that ring he bought for you too. He could've—

“Yeonjun! Why are you out here all by yourself?” Soobin says with a drink in his hand. Startling Yeonjun, he clears his throat, realizing he had been outside for way too long. “Already abandoning the party? Why—geez, it’s so cold out! How are you surviving off that flimsy sweater?”

“Just needed some fresh air, that’s all.”

“It’s been way too long since you’ve been out there—I think that’s enough of it.”

Yeonjun heeds Soobin's advice and gets up swiftly. As he reenters the warmth of the gathering, a rush of heat hits his body, causing shivers. It becomes apparent just how long he was out in the cold.

Welcomed back by his talkative friends, bombarding him with questions, Soobin's supportive presence is felt with a reassuring hand on his back, accompanied by a warm smile from his friend.

Yeonjun finally lets out a small chuckle, joining in the lively atmosphere. However, as he suddenly looks into the distance, his smile abruptly transforms into a shocked expression, catching the attention of those around him.

Yeonjun's surprise deepens as he spots you in the midst of the crowd, your presence evoking a mixture of emotions within him.

His eyes were deceiving him, weren’t they?

The shock lingers on his face, momentarily freezing him in place as he processes the unexpected sight of you at the party.

Soobin, noticing Yeonjun's stunned reaction, leans in and whispers, "Go talk to them. I did this for you—make things work again."

A mixture of gratitude and apprehension fills Yeonjun as he contemplates approaching you. Realizing that hesitation won't get him anywhere, Yeonjun swiftly rushes over to you, determined to reconnect. The prospect of a renewed connection fills him with anticipation, the possibility of proposing to you and seeing you wear the ring he had carefully selected echoing in his mind.

As he approaches and sees your smile, the winter seems less cold, and the possibility of a season without you fades away.

As Yeonjun closes the distance between you, he realizes that you had kept your promise. Now, it's his turn to fulfill a promise — to make it a winter with you, vowing never again to let a winter pass without you.

This time, it will be a season filled with warmth and shared moments, a promise both to you and to himself.

💭 — isnt writing angst so fun !!!!

TXT PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @haruavrse @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @bubblytaetae @ineedaherosavemenow @ml8dy @wonioml @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @ja4hyvn @thia-aep @vampcharxter @sleepymoon27

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fuiabarcelos · 9 months

Text

Supernatural (Taylor’s version)

Hello hunters and Swifties!

I love reading supernatural stories inspired by songs and I'm addicted to Taylor Swift, so I decided to recommend stories inspired by her songs.

If I find more stories I might think about doing a part 2 or an update.

1 - Speak Now: By @darling-i-read-it

“Based on the song speak now”

Info: One shot - 1100 Words

Warnings: “Hexing being a bad thing, weddings, Fluff.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

2 - Speak Now: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7, Episode 8) During a trip that was meant to be a vacation, (Y/n) and Dean are met with some very surprising new from Sam and an old face.”

The author didn't say if it's really inspired by taylor's song, I just deduced that it was. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

Info: One shot - 1695 Words.

Warnings: “Drugging, threats of violence” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

3 - When I saw your face: By @seriesxwriting

The story of how enchanted it was to meet Sam Winchester.

Info: One shot - 2069 Words.

Warnings: “Drinking, swearing?” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Enchanted.

4 - I Remember it All Too Well: By @bi-bard

“The story of the two hunters that lasted far longer than they should’ve. Each chapter shows that Sam and (Y/n) were either meant to last a lifetime or fall apart at the seams. (I used season 11 as a reference for ages)”

Info: One shot - 4905 Words.

Warnings: “Break-up, unhealthy relationship, arguing, cussing, I made Sam a terrible person and I'm not sorry about it.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: All too well (10 minute version).

5 - All You Had to do Was Stay: By @hellooo-tricksters

“When Sam jumped into the pit, you were devastated, you thought you would never get him back. Then he returns and he is not who he used to be, he is rude, aggressive and cheats on you. He goes, and after a year he returns at your door.”

Info: One shot - 2172 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, a little angst and maybe a little fluff too.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: All you had to do was stay.

6 - How You Get the Girl: By @hellooo-tricksters

“ It has been 6 months since you’ve last seen Sam. And now he decides to show up? “

Info: One shot - 1627 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, smut if you squint I think…” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: How You get the girl.

7 - Welcome to New York: By @d-s-winchester

An AU series, where each chapter is inspired by a song from the album 1989.

Info: Series - 13 Chapters.

Warnings: “Angst, drinking, language, smut sorta” (Most of the chapters have no warning.) Warnings described by the creator.

Songs: Welcome to New York, Blank space, Style, Out of the Woods, All You Had To Do Was Stay, Shake it off, I Wish You Would, Bad blood, Wildest Dreams, How You Get The Girl, This Love, I Know Places and Clean.

8 - Gorgeous: By @justagirlinafandomworld

“Sam Winchester ruined your life. And he might know it.”

Info: Drabble - 100 words.

Warnings: “Secondhand embarrassment probably. Maybe feel a little called out?” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Gorgeous.

9 - Paper rings: By @bi-bard

“(Season 12) After everything happened with the British Men of Letters and the return of Mary Winchester, Sam does a lot of thinking about his future. Specifically, his future with his partner.”

The author didn't say if it's really inspired by taylor's song, I just deduced that it was. If I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

Info: Drabble - 983 Words.

Warnings: “Mentions of torture” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Paper rings.

10 - The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7) Sam had been struggling since he had come back from the cage. As his condition worsens, (Y/n) tries everything to help him.”

Info: Drabble - 746 Words

Warnings: “hallucinations, past trauma” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Peace.

11 - Look at this idiotic fool that you made me: By @bi-bard

“(Y/n) finally puts their foot down with Sam. Sam trips over it.”

Info: Drabble - 787 Words

Warnings: “mentions of sex” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: illicit affairs

1 - Head First, Fearless: By @swiftlymoniquesblog

“ “But you’re just so cool, run your hands through your hair, absent mindedly makin’ me want you” from Fearless by Taylor Swift!”

Info: One shot - 2048 Words

Warnings: All the fluff! - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Fearless.

2 - Enchanted: By @d-s-winchester

“All I can say is I was, Enchanted to meet you”

Info: One shot - 1428 Words.

Warnings: “Language, fluff” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Enchanted.

3 - Speak now: By @d-s-winchester

“Speak now or forever hold your peace”

Info: One shot - 1305 Words.

Warnings: “None.” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Speak Now.

4 - Red: By @d-s-winchester

“Missing him was dark gray, all alone”

Info: One shot -1048 Words

Warnings: “Sadness, heartbreak, death, dealing with death” - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Red.

5 - All to well: By @the-winchester-pie

Info: One shot - 2071 Words

Warnings: Angst?

Song: All too well.

6 - I’d Say I Love You Even at Your Darkest: By @bi-bard

“Doubt and guilt creeps in and convinces Dean to run for the hills. (Y/n) refuses to let Dean believe that they would ever be happier without him.”

Info: One shot - 1838 Words.

Warnings: “Self-doubt, arguing, cussing” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Forever winter.

7 - Style: By @hellooo-tricksters

“Dean and the reader are in a no strings attached relationship since they met on a hunt. It passionate, steamy and complicated, but they keep returning on the same path, not matter which road they take.”

Info: One shot - 1869 Words.

Warnings: “Slight smut, mainly mentioning of it, maybe swearing, cheating?” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Style.

8 - Dorothea: By @imaginestuffs

“Dean “doesn’t like” your music, or so he says.”

Info: Drabble - 913 Words.

Warnings: “ A few curse words I believe, and fluff!!” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Dorothea.

9 - Bloodmoonlit: By @moonlightspencie

“ Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance).”

Info: One shot - 5400 Words.

Warnings: “Drinking (a lot of it tbh), both of em being massive dorks, 18+ pls bc it gets mildly spicy at the end.” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Glitch.

1 - I'll Let You In: By @bi-bard

“(Season 7 + 9) After gaining his memory back, Castiel has to leave to go help the Winchesters. (Y/n) promises to leave the door open to him. They weren’t expecting him to actually come back.”

Info: One shot - 2490 Words.

Warnings: “Mentions of death” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: That’s When.

2 - Shake it off: By @kaz2y5-imagines

Dean and Sam find you and Castiel dancing "Shake it off" in the bunker.

Info: One shot - 1696 Words.

Warnings: None?

Song: Shake it off.

3 - Bad blood: By @hellooo-tricksters

“Castiel finds the reader after they broke up 3 months ago. It was ugly, hard and painful, but now, now she works for Crowley. She’s a demon and she’s got all the right ways to show him what he did to her. He’ll pay.”

Info: One shot - 1439 Words.

Warnings: “Swearing, torture...slightly… Demon!Reader” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Bad blood.

4 - My lover: By @swiftlymoniquesblog

Info: Drabble - 574 Words.

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of relationship doubts

Song: Lover.

5 - I'm setting off, but not without my muse: By @bi-bard

“ Monsters are known for terrifying people. Some monsters even scare themselves.”

Info: One shot - 1575 Words.

Warnings: “Character death, angst, suicide (seriously, read with caution)” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: The lakes.

6 - And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were talking to me now: By @bi-bard

“ (Y/n) had grown up with the Winchesters, but Castiel was the one who really took on a father role over the years. (Y/n) has to cope with losing him and having someone else claim to be his kid.”

Info: Drabble - 866 words

Warnings: “Mentions of death, grieving, Child!Reader” - Warnings and summary described by the creator.

Song: Marjorie.

7 - Safe and sound: By @d-s-winchester

Info: One shot - 1231 Words.

Warnings: None - Warnings described by the creator.

Song: Safe and sound.

If you guys know of more supernatural stories inspired by taylow swift songs, let me know as I might put them in part 2/update.

Enjoy the stories!

To the writers: You are amazing!

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #sam winchesterxreader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x you #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #taylor swift #the eras tour #fanfic rec #fic rec #recs

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