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#yes this is tradition now even if this is his third time being back
mattmurdeaux · 4 months
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(Continuing this tradition 🫡) 3rd time's the charm. Welcome back again, king! ✨
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Acts of Service
Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester has been loving you for years in his own way and with a little help you finally realize it.
Warnings: soft core smut +18
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You watch from across the bar as Dean sips his whisky from a short glass. You're on your third tequila pineapple and he looks as amazing as ever. His jaw is sharp and he has some slight stubble from not shaving for a few days. You, Sam, and Dean had just finished a tulpa case in Pennsylvania and had decided to celebrate with a few drinks at a local dive. You had worked with the boys for a few years now and it had become a tradition to celebrate after a win.
Meanwhile on your side of the bar you were starting to feel the bass of the music vibrating through you in a different way, the drinks were going down too easily, and the urge to dance was coursing through your being. You had sipped your thoughts away to your heart's content.
You had one too many to drink and you were starting to feel it. If you didn't watch yourself you were going to wake up in somebody's front lawn very shortly.
The feeling of warmth on your waist breaks you from your thoughts and you look up to see an unknown, attractive, dark haired, blue eyed man, with one of his hands on your waist.
“Sorry i didn't mean to startle you…” he says and then continues “Can i buy you a drink?” raising his to make sure you can understand what he's saying over the loudly playing music. It's not that he wasn't attractive, hell he was very attractive. But he wasn't Dean Winchester. He didn't have stubble, or piercing green eyes, or a gruff sultry voice that could make a girl melt. So you raise your full glass as an answer and in hopes to send him on his way but he doesn't budge. He leans in once again to make sure you can hear him and says
“Well, how about a dance?” He pulls back to see your answer but you look across the bar. Dean's eyes are locked on you and the dark haired man before you. If you didn't know better there was a twinge of jealousy behind his eyes. His jaw is locked and his hold on his glass is strong. You think back to all the times you had to watch him shamelessly flirt with local girls and even go home with them and something in you screams that this is your turn. Your eyes snap back to the man in front of you and you say
“Yes”
You down your drink and leave the glass behind. He puts his hand on your lower back and leads you to the part of the bar where everyone's dancing. You wrap your arms around his neck and start swaying your hips to the beat of the music. He's a pretty good dancer, but that drink you just downed starts to catch up with you and all of a sudden you feel hot, really hot. Your vision is slightly blurred and you can't tell if you're about to throw up or pass out.
You lean up to his ear and say that you'll be right back and start stumbling your way towards some fresh air. The walk to the exit feels like it takes a literal year but you finally get there and fling the door open. Little did you know there was a pair of eyes on you watching you your whole way out.
The familiar sensation of warmth on your waist once again breaks you from your thoughts as you've steadied yourself against the wall of the building. You look up expecting to see the newly met set of blue eyes but instead you're met with bright green ones. It's Dean. The confusion must've been written on your face so he clears it up for you.
“We’re going home” He wraps one hand around your waist and throws your arm over his shoulder so he can walk you side by side to his car. He opens your door and sets you in the passenger seat and buckles you in. He walks over to his side, gets in, and the next thing you hear is the engine roar to life. It hits you that you're leaving the bar without saying goodbye to the handsome stranger, or paying your tab, that you werent ready to leave.
“Wait, let's go back… i'll get the next round if we go back right now” You slur out. This makes Dean laugh deeply and he looks over briefly to take in your disheveled state. You never get like this so it's always hilarious to him when you do, and unbeknownst to you it amazes him how you can still look so beautiful.
“I don't think even the most careless bartender would give you another drink right now. You're cut off” He replies still laughing.
This makes you pout and you turn away from him and look out the window dramatically.
“Oh cmon sweetheart… you'll thank me in the morning trust me…” he breaks the silence
“The one time I find someone to take home…” you mumble out with an emphasis on “I”. He snaps his head over and looks you up and down. His grip on the steering wheel is turning his knuckles white. He lets out an unnoticed frustrated sigh and says
“You didn't really want him… did you?”
This causes you to slowly look over at him and he's already looking at you while momentarily darting his eyes back to the road. He wants an answer. But you don't give it to him, ashamed of how and what you really feel. You just bury your head back into the side of the door without saying anything until the motel comes into view. You're exhausted all of a sudden. You hear his door open and he opens yours which causes you to almost fall out of the car. He catches you and laughs and sits you back up straight. He unbuckles you and says
“Okay enough of this” and with that he scoops you up princess style and carries you to your motel room door. You're secretly thankful, as you are embarrassed that you're this drunk, you would've never made the walk. It feels like you're getting more inebriated by the minute. He puts the arm that was carrying your legs down gently and holds you there.
“I'm going to search your pockets for the key okay…” he warns you before gently diving his hands into your pockets until he grasps the key. He opens the door, swings it open, and then picks you up once again to carry you to the bed. He lays you down gently on top on the sheets and the next thing you know your eyes are closed and you have the deepest sleep of your life.
You wake up and the first thing you see is a glass of water on the side table. You reach for it and drink it like you haven't had anything to drink in days. You're pretty sure it was the best thing you've felt in a while, and this only reassures the notion that you are extremely hungover. You don't remember anything from last night other than dancing with some mystery man for a little bit while a pair of familiar green eyes watched you from across the bar. That's it. You lift the sheets that were comfily tucked around you off and see clothes laid out and tylenol behind the glass of water. You must've set yourself up for the morning once you got in. You're a genius is what you're thinking. You couldn't have been that embarrassingly drunk, that crosses your mind and soothes your conscience. You're thankful for the sliver of soberness in you last night and throw on the fresh clothes, brush your teeth and go to head over to Sam and Dean's room. You knock and Sam opens the door. The smell of greasy breakfast food hits you and warms your soul. It's exactly what you need right now.
“Tell me you got something for me” you ask while looking hopefully at Sam.
Sam laughs and says “Yeah Dean went earlier, he got your usual”
You look over at Dean who keeps his eyes on his food and say thank you. You take a seat at the small motel room table and start diving in. You look up and Dean is looking at you and smiling softly.
“What?” you say cluelessly
“Nothing” he replies, dropping his smile and focusing back on his food and you do the same.
“So how was last night? Was it epic” Sam says with a curious smile, eyeing the both of you.
“Not really, I was sober enough to set my clothes out and get under the covers so I'd say it was kind of a bust” You say laughing as you take another bite of your breakfast. Everything gets quiet for a second and you wonder what you said to cause such an awkward vibe.
“I'm going to shower” says Dean and he gets up without even looking at either of you, walks to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. You hear the shower start and that's when Sam leans in and looks at you seriously. You pause mid bite and look at him confused.
“What?” you say setting your plastic fork down
“You know Dean got you home last night right?” he says directly
“I figured…” you reply, “so?” you continue.
“So… Dean set your clothes out…” it's starting to hit you, he continues “He drove to get you tylenol because we only had the strong stuff…” It hits you, “He set out a glass of water… he tucked you in, he woke up early and got your favorite breakfast. Hell he even paid your tab” Sam says looking towards the bathroom.
It felt like the world stopped spinning, in that moment cars stopped driving, birds stopped chirping. Everything was still. The realization was flowing through every molecule of your being and you were absolutely frozen, other than your jaw dropping you couldn't move. Dean Winchester cares about you. He cares about you as more than a friend, he sees more. It keeps repeating in your head until hopefully it sinks in. He sees more.
How could you have not seen this before? Maybe it's because he knew the real you, he knew more about you than anyone else, and how could anyone love or care about you once they do? That question can no longer plague you because He sees more.
All you can say is, “Thank you Sam”
He replies with a nod and takes his breakfast and says that he'll be in your room. The door shuts behind him and you're left alone awaiting Dean to step out of that bathroom. You’re carefully forming your thoughts making sure what you say is exactly what you feel. It's going to be perfect. You hear the bathroom door creak open and you quickly stand and turn to face a half naked dean who's only wearing jeans and drying his hair with a towel. He pauses when he sees you're the only person in the room. You feel like you might explode.
“Where’s Sa-”
“I care about you… alot” you interject. The silence is deafening. So much for your deep thoughtful speech. You can't take the silence and break it by continuing “and I know you care about me too…”
He's absolutely frozen, cornered. It was now or never.
“How did you-”
“I can just tell” you cut him off. You smile proudly, only now realizing you have the ability to make the Dean Winchester speechless. You're scared you might’ve overstepped, might've been too enthusiastic when he starts laughing and smiling. Maybe Sam was wrong? But that all changes when he says “i don't just care about you… im in love with you…”
It was your turn to be frozen. “You don't have to be yet… but I want you to know that I've been in love with you for a while now. I love your laugh, your smile, hell I even love what you get for breakfast.” Your eyes are wide in disbelief, he walks forward until he's close enough to where he can reach out and brush some hair out of your face and then continues. “I'm painfully in love with you. With everything about you” He’s desperately scanning your face for any sign of reciprocation, any sign of hope. He gets his sign when your mouth curves into a bright smile beaming at him, and before he can even realize it he has one of his own shining back at you.
You don't know who leaned in first, but the next thing either of you know is that your lips are moving against each others. You're running your fingers through his still damp and already messy hair. His hands are at your waist and holding you there like fine art. You were to him, something timeless, thought provoking, head turning, beautiful. This kiss was the start of Dean Winchester's future and he knew it. It tasted sweet and he savored every movement of your lips with his own, grateful for anything you give him.
His hands were electrifying you with every soft touch. You were melting in his arms and you can't get enough of him. You were pressed flush against his bare chest and you can't help but run your hands over his broad shoulders while continuing to kiss him deeply. You can't help but still be in a bit of disbelief. You could kiss him for hours, and by the way he's kissing you, he could too.
He pulls back and says “I don't want to rush things…”
“I was thinking the same thing…” You say, but yet again you have no idea who leans in first but your lips collide once again. His hands are on the sides of your face and yours are resting on his stomach. The room is filled with the sounds of your kiss and occasional involuntary moans, this feels better than either of you had imagined and you can't help it.
“When did he say he'd be back?” Dean mumbles into the kiss referring to Sam.
“He didn't” You mumble back barely breaking the kiss to do so.
You both simultaneously pull back and look at eachother wide eyed and it's like a lightbulb goes off over both your heads, but you can still see the worry plaguing his eyes so you say. “It'll be perfect no matter what because it's us… You and me.” You lace your fingers with his and at that he smiles and pulls you to him and towards his bed. He picks you up and lays you on the bed with him on top of you and it makes you both laugh into the kiss. When suddenly a pang of worry hits you. The last thing you want is for Sam to walk in on what's about to happen. As if on cue you hear the door shut and both of your heads snap to a frozen and panicked Sam. Dean begrudgingly and with a groan stands up and off of you and you immediately sits up. You're utterly embarrassed but Dean is just annoyed.
“Really?” Says Dean
“I wasn't expecting that, I mean I was hoping things went well but… wow” says Sam while setting the remnants of his food on the table. Dean finds a shirt in his bag and throws it on along with his shoes and grabs your hand and starts leading you towards the door. “We’ll hit the road in 2 hours until then … stay here” Dean says to Sam and he rolls his eyes. Dean shuts the door behind you both and starts walking you towards your room with a grin like he's won the lotto, and in his head he has. You laugh and he says
“What? Checkout isn’t for another two hours, might as well make the most of it…” He leans over and places a quick kiss to your temple. Your eyes flutter closed for a second. You've never felt this type of contentment before. You realize you never said i love you back earlier and you immediately look to the side of his face and say
“I love you too by the way” He immediately looks over and smiles wider than you've ever seen him smile before. In the moment he feels the contentment the same as you. His life just got a hell of a lot better and he knew it.
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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months
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Our kids are going to be *mwah*! Please with Alucard?
A/N: love babies love Alucard love the idea of him being a FATHER ;; hope you enjoy this drabble, thank you for the req MWUAHHH
"Our kids are going to be *mwah*!" x Alucard
It was finally that time of the month again! You were honestly so excited, you didn’t think you’d be as excited as you were, but now you look forward to it each month. Alucard, as stoic as he was on the outside, couldn’t help but feel jitters whenever the time came. You always had a bit more pep in your step, waking up a bit brighter, smiling a bit more. If not for the actual occasion itself, he loved seeing you so happy. 
It was date weekend for Trevor and Sypha, which meant it was your weekend with the baby.
The couple promised each other they’d still make space for alone time, though they weren’t sure how on Earth they’d do it, considering Sypha’s family was nomadic and Trevor had none to begin with. You overheard them talking about it once while they were over with their son, and you couldn’t help but interject, probably a bit too loud: “I’ll do it! I’ll babysit!” Sypha gasped, all at the same time as Alucard sighed. Even with different tones, they both looked at you with the same question on their tongue: “Really?” You shot a dirty look to your lover before looking at the couple before you all smiles. “Yes really. I love kids. Just tell Auntie when you need her, I’ll take good care of him!” Turns out, you were really good with kids. Sypha and Trevor warned you of what little outbursts he could have, when he needed to be fed, along with all his special toys and blankets to ensure he wasn’t too much of a hassle. But he was perfectly well behaved. So much so that they were shocked at how smooth everything went for the weekend. They were sure he’d cause just a bit of trouble, no more than a normal baby would but still. You just shrugged it off, covering his belly with smooches to hear him squeal and giggle before handing him back off to his mother. “Perfect little angel!” You stated, proud. Alucard was even shocked to find out how well he did with you and away from his parents. He had to tease Trevor for that one.
And then it became tradition: you’d take him for a weekend while the two had some alone time. Alucard had always wanted kids, secretly, although he’d never talked about it with you. It just never felt like the right moment. Always too busy around the village, around the house, and before that? Too busy fighting monsters. Life has calmed down, but it still felt too busy to bring up wanting children. He knew you enjoyed them, figuring you liked them the way most people do: until they’re tired and want to return them to their parents. Even after the second and third month of doing this, any time their baby boy would huff and puff, and stir a bit of trouble, you took it with stride, doing everything in your power to soothe him down. One night he even kept you up for hours because he wasn’t tired and simply wouldn’t fall asleep. Alucard tried to take him from you, urging you to rest, but you simply shook your head with a tired smile, saying something along the lines of ‘I have to start preparing for my own, don’t I?”
Alucard brushed it off, as your tired brain didn’t comprehend what you said. It did though. You meant it. But the conversation never came up again. 
And now it was time for you to pick up the baby Belmont with Alucard in tow, grabbing at the pack Sypha graciously packed for you both before bidding them adieu. “Look at this sweet baby! Look how big you’re getting!” You’d coo, lifting him up high and spinning him while he babbled and giggled away, small arms swinging in the air. Alucard’s heart ached, you were so sweet with him, seeing you cradle the sweet babe against you made him want to bring up children right now. Maybe after the weekend. (Unless you beat him to it.) 
You sighed, sitting him down on your lap as you fed him, leaning into Alucard’s touch while he kissed your temple. “Adrian, do you think we’ll have a baby soon?”
...
What?
“What?” 
“I think we should, they’d be so darling wouldn’t they?” You mindlessly spoke, spooning in some mashed carrots into the baby’s mouth, cooing when he took a big bite. Alucard was stunned, blinking in shock. “They’d have your eyes, I hope. But maybe my hair? Definitely your long lashes, I get jealous every day!” You huffed a laugh, wiping away some of the food that dripped onto his cheek. “We’d make the cutest kids, I think. Yes, absolutely, our kids are going to be *mwah*!” complete with pursed lips, hand gestures, and everything. “I’m sure you want someone to play with don’t you baby boy? You’d be a cool older cousin, taking them under your--”
“--you think about our future children?” 
You paused, looking over your shoulder to Alucard, who had up until recently been sitting there in surprise. His eyes were side, unsure of what to say. You blushed, face heating up more than you expected. You hadn’t realized how much you really said. “Of course I do...I think about that often, you know.” You spoke, barely above a whisper, cleaning up baby Belmont and sitting him down on his favorite blanket surrounded by toys to keep him occupied. “I know we’ve never talked about it, but I hope one day you’ll be ready for them?” You asked, hopeful.
He hadn’t realized how much thought you put into your shared future. He always wished you’d be his end game--the only person he’d be with for the rest of your lives. But he was never quite sure, doubt creeping into his veins like a nasty infection. But of course he shouldn’t doubt you, you’d never given him a reason to. Always so vocal about how you loved and cherished him...it was silly to think otherwise. You pressed on. “I was...I was hoping that babysitting for them would make up your mind.” You didn’t look at him, only the baby, scared and nervous to see how he’d react. “Oh darling” he sighed, grabbing the sides of your face delicately and pressing kisses onto your lips, your cheeks, your forehead: anything he could get his hands on. He ended with a passionate, slow kiss that took your breath away. “You have no idea how happy a man you’ve made me.” He murmured, kissing you once more--before pulling away with a salacious grin.
“Let’s start trying after his parents pick him up, yes?”
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javarium · 10 months
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all the good things | geto suguru.
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someway, somehow, amidst all of the thoughts of chaos and spiraling ideals of a new “better” world, a light shines through to guide him to a path of true balance. that just so happens to be the second-year transfer from Kyoto, who’s more than happy to put him back on the right path..
warning(s): like 98% canon lmao, female reader, mentions of pregnant! reader towards the end, honestly just wrote and didn’t bother checking if this was coherent but here’s y’all a snack haha, also using new line dividers atm and they’re all all pretty, credits to the maker in the guidelines of my blog
note(s): as much as I wanted to wait I just can’t stand it so here’s this piece published earlier than I want lol. also I didn’t know who to tag for geto so I just went with these lovelies ☺️
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You like the Tokyo school much better than the one in Kyoto.
By leaps and bounds actually, you muse.
Everything from the people down to the energy they give off was so much more different — more freeing.
Kyoto was just too much, too old school and too traditional, especially for you. The students there seemed to be more rigid, and the teachers seemed to sneer at you. More often than not for just being a female. That old way of thinking was most likely why they lost the Exchange Event almost every year.
Especially with sorcerers like Geto Suguru on their side.
You transferred to Tokyo during the last half of your first year, which wasn’t something commonplace. That time wasn’t exactly a pleasant time to transfer into. Geto and Gojo, your upperclassmen, had failed a mission protecting the Plasma Star Vessel, Riko Amanai. Yes, Gojo managed to take out the Sorcerer Killer, Fushiguro Toji (who was actually a Zen’in like Naoya) on the mission, but that was only after he had completed his mission — after they had failed to protect Riko.
Now you’re a second-year at Tokyo High, watching the third-year Geto Suguru fall into a spiral of chaos and warped ideals while his friends go their own personal paths and leave him to his own devices, completely unaware in their own worlds that they’ve left a storm brewing behind them, alone and lonely and more than ready to bring down its wrath upon anyone in its way.
You secretly wondered how much Gojo cared for the person who was supposed to be his best friend.
So why you decided to approach said storm to get a (very much well-needed) drink out at the machines while he was preoccupied with his own thoughts, you have no idea. Were you stupid? Yes. Did that matter right now? … Probably.
Your feet carried you to the vending machine, standing beside Geto. You weren’t bothering to look at him out of your peripheral vision, knowing that if you did, the universe would shit on you and he would look up and make eye contact.
Sounds like one of those romance animes or something, you think, nose crunching in distaste. Ew…
“It’s such a shame that you decided to withdraw from Kyoto, [Name]-chan.”
An even bigger problematic ‘ew’ came from behind you. You scowled and turned halfway on your heel, back facing your black-haired upperclassmen to stare at the smirking face of one of the two reasons you’d originally left Kyoto’s school.
You scoff, shaking your head to see Geto’s form standing tall, but still facing the vending machine to get something. That’s all right; you could handle your own battles anyway.
“You really have the audacity to come and talk to me like this? After what you put me through for the last two years? Ah, wait a second. It’s you. So I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Naoya shrugged. “All I asked for was—”
“For you to leave her alone, Zen’in.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the sound of Geto’s voice cutting through the air, but it’s only Naoya that scowls and turns his head to face his Tokyo upperclassmen.
And to your absolute surprise, despite Naoya’s scowl deepening to a point where you thought he couldn’t get any uglier, the male pivoted on the ball of his foot and sauntered off.
“Are you alright?” came the instant inquiry.
Geto moving to get a closer look at you made you sweat even more. Just for a different reason.
“I’m fine, Senpai.”
The tall male looks between you and Naoya’s fading figure, eyes narrowing slightly in distaste up until he sees the Zen’in male finally disappear from sight. Even he knows that the Zen’in’s are trash; Naoya just really takes the cake.
“That’s good,” he says.
And when he looks at you with gentle eyes, you’re surprised (and desperately trying to hide it). How instantly his expression and mood changed from mere moments before Naoya showed up to at this moment caught you off guard.
“Did you need something from here? I can get it for you.”
His offer is so sincere, so polite. Such a stark contrast from earlier. Especially with the way the bright smile on his face that reaches his ears and makes the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle.
Instead of the same uncertainty from before your approach filling your stomach, this time feels different. This time, it’s an excited, happy feeling; as if butterflies are rapidly fluttering away in your belly in eager anticipation of something wonderful to come.
“Um, yes,” you squeak, looking to the machines, “I was going to get—”
>>>>
How long does it take for one to fall from grace?
From one who’s fingers touched the pure white clouds of heaven to becoming one who’s knees were stuck deep within the obsidian tar pits of hell, it seemed Geto Suguru was destined to struggle with himself — with his morals and ideals of the world of jujutsu sorcerers and the world of people that lived outside of it — for eternity.
Someone that was so bright, so revered, to fall into a pit of hopelessness?
It must be a lie, others would think.
Watching him sink into the pits of chaos and despair while his best friend rose to a place where he became untouchable to all sorcerers… made something terrible, something spiteful, stir within the depths of your stomach. How much did the white-haired teenager care about the one he called his equal?
But as Gojo became more and more powerful and left his friend behind, Geto too, grew in power in his own right.
And a lot of it was with you.
Weeks of meeting at the vending machines for snacks during training turned into months of sitting on benches and eating lunch together. Even that progressed farther, to him taking you to everything from restaurants to the book store (as much as he’d laugh at you buying manga, he was just as much of a hypocrite with Inuyasha under his arm) to even pretty lakes across Japan, soaring atop one of his flying curses.
Doing things that friends do. That people more than friends also do.
But at the same time, during those times after missions or simply while spending time together in either his or your room, you’d see that malicious darkness fester up. You’d see the way his brows would furrow when you mentioned saving someone or his lips pull down when there’d be a mention of the higher-ups about a mission you’d taken recently that went sour.
In times like these, you wondered if Gojo Satoru really did once know Geto Suguru the same way you knew him now.
“I can see the sweat on your forehead,” the black-haired male jokes. “You shouldn’t think so hard.”
Suguru doesn’t chuckle, but the joking smile of amusement is still there. It’s just a faint one. He’s become less and less of a jokester lately, swimming deeper into the darkness. But for you, you think he tries a little harder to keep the mood and air between you two as light and positive as possible.
(For you.)
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” you quip back, “for the next time I see sweat on your brow for thinking so much. Hypocrite.”
For the first time all day, he finally chuckles.
“Hypocrite?” He muses, placing his cheek on his fist. “Really?”
“Yes!” You toss your hands up in mock frustration. “You heard me, Mr. I-Wanna-Brood-At-Weird-Times-of-the-Day.”
“That’s an awfully long name.”
“It sure does fit though, yeah?”
“So you say.”
The air had been tense and thick since morning, but the two of you were striving to get past it. Well, you slightly more, but the more you tried, the more Geto — ah, Suguru. He already told you to call him that, didn’t he? — seemed to try and help you push for a happier tone.
But the mission Suguru was to be sent on soon had him shut down mentally, closed off from you for the last few days. And today was the day you’d tried to pick him back up out of his crappy mood.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” you ask.
Suguru sighs, then nods his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll be back by the day after, if not sooner.”
You shrug, semi-happy with his response and accepting it. But the other half of you knows something — sees something — behind his pretty eyes that you wished you would have left alone.
But your heart loved to meddle when it wanted to meddle.
And in the future, you hoped Suguru would thank you for that meddling nature.
****
113 bodies were to be found five days after Geto arrived at the village he was assigned to.
But he hadn’t been alone the day he arrived.
Suguru just didn’t know that.
You’d stuck to him like glue. Well, as far back as glue could stretch in that regard. You’d silenced your cursed energy so much that you almost swore you didn’t even have any. And not once did the male turn around to bother to look around or check his surroundings, like he knew he was ever being followed.
Now, all you could do was watch as Suguru stepped into the house that the villagers brought him to. Supposedly, the house contained the reason why the villagers had been dying.
But that gnawing anxiousness in the pit of your stomach told you otherwise. It told you that something was about to go very, very wrong.
Very few people had been able to manage to near-fully suppress their cursed energy aura. It was a talent that could only be managed by a select few, one of which was probably Gojo Satoru himself. But when one successfully did it, all the stories told of how nauseous they felt; how overwhelming the sense of others cursed energy could be.
And it was all true.
Bile and your lunch nearly coated your shoes. Knees too had you let Suguru’s immense, Special Grade cursed energy make you sink to the ground.
It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same!
Eyes blown wide as saucers, you realized that something had indeed went very, very wrong inside that house. Because no longer was Suguru’s cursed energy driven by regular means like a regular jujutsu sorcerer.
No. All you could see from his cursed energy was pure malice and raw, unadulterated rage and anger.
Whatever these people said or have done to send him into such fury like this, you couldn’t move, only think. This is the day they die.
Out of the house comes two— No, three. Suguru being one of them. A man and a woman, both with ugly faces and ugly auras you didn’t like.
No wonder Suguru doesn’t like them.
A curse manifests from your friend’s fingertips, and you quickly realize what’s about to happen — the only thing that could happen.
But he can’t just kill them…
You step out of your hiding spot and shout his name. Shock enters Suguru’s eyes. Of course; he hadn’t expected you to be here. But then they glaze over with a mixture of emotions. Disappointment seems to be the most obvious.
Curse you, Yuki Tsukumo, for tipping him over the edge.
“Don’t even try it, Suguru.”
“You shouldn’t have come, [Name].” It sounded like a warning.
You scoff slightly. “And let you do something like this? I don’t think so.”
His eyes narrow. It’s an expression you don’t like.
“You need to leave.”
“So do you, apparently.”
“Don’t be like this, [Name]. Don’t make me hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t anyway. Why let one awful circumstance, one awful event, define the rest of your life?”
“Do you know what they’ve done?” he asks, and you clearly hear the intent of violence behind his tone. You see his jaw clench up and a dangerous fire ignite behind his eyes. “Do you know they have two girls locked up in there, ready to kill?”
“Of course not,” you say, “but you were about to do something that was going to impact your life… Forever.”
“I think I’m ready for that.”
“You’re ready to lose everything?”
“If I must.”
You almost bite your tongue. But you don’t, and speak anyway.
“Even me?”
The thick, black smokiness of one his curses dancing on his fingertips turns to wisps, almost vanishing. You see what the question does to him, so you press farther. Deeper into the unspoken part of you two’s relationship you’d both been afraid to touch on.
Then, he admits something, dipping first into waters that haven’t been treaded into.
“I’d like to think you’d come with me, be by my side.”
Your heart thumps faster. It’s a declaration of many things: loyalty, friendship, trust.
But all your ears hear is a declaration of love.
Because you don’t miss the way his eyes shine as he looks you up and down like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. Like he wants you to actually follow him like he expected, to come with him and step in place next to him like an equal.
If not more than just an equal.
“I can’t do that,” you reply. “You know I can’t, Suguru. And neither can you.”
It’s written all over his face that he doesn’t like your answer.
“And why can’t I?”
“Because you’re better than this.”
Was he? What did that mean anyway: being better? After Riko, after his “talk” with Yuki, everything just seemed to collapse around him; everything he knew ripping apart at the seams faster than he could repair them.
Why? Why was he supposed to be better? How could he be better? Did he deserve to even become better?
“Don’t take the easy way,” you tell him. “There’ll never be a right answer, not right now at least.”
“Killing all non-sorcerers seems like a pretty good start,” he replies darkly.
“And how would you even manage that?” you retort. “If that’s the only thing you can stand on, that’s shallow.”
“Then what is the answer, [Name]? Do tell me, please,” he urges sarcastically, rolling his dark eyes. “Is killing every non-sorcerer not worth us jujutsu sorcerers having a chance to live?”
You answer as earnestly as he expects, “I have no idea, but at the moment, it sounds pretty stupid.”
Unfortunately, it takes him much longer than you want for him to put the monster at his fingertips away, for his cursed energy to dip down and go back to the way it was before it spiked in a rage you’d never anticipated to see from him.
The village is scathed with fire and terror: burned buildings with its inhabitants shaken to the core over the consequences of their actions — and what would happen if they tried to put more children in the cage Suguru found them in. It’s not ethical, and surely you’d hear about it from the higher-ups in jujutsu society.
But for the girls wrapped up in yours and Suguru’s arms, you heart and soul knew it was worth it.
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Megumi doesn’t get along with Nanako too well. But you’re sure you know why, with his red cheeks and all.
“You think he’ll ever say anything?” you ask your husband.
“Doubtful,” Suguru chuckles, “considering he was raised by Satoru.”
It’s been a rough ten years raising the twins. There’s been a long list of issues, struggles over the last several years that have really put your relationship with your now-husband to the test. From the elders to Suguru’s own conflicting ideals; from his own coping mechanisms to making sure you and his girls are well taken care of, and those are just a few to list. But fixing Satoru and Suguru’s friendship was by far the most difficult thing.
Riko’s death really did change them in the most awful ways.
“Satoru has only gotten crazier over the years,” you hum, agreeing. “I still can’t believe Satoru brought Sukuna’s vessel here.”
“I think you mean stupid, darling,” Suguru chuckles. “And did you know he gave Itadori a second finger?”
“Disgusting! All in true Satoru taste, too.”
“Hey! I can hear you two, you know!” the white-haired male complains.
“Good!” you shout back.
And cue Satoru’s crocodile tears. “Suguru really did marry a witch!”
You feel the veins in your head twitch with irritation. You’d always hated that damn nickname.
You moved to stand up to go and whack the shit out of the manchild, but your husband’s hand settled on your knee. You looked at him curiously, sitting back down.
“Sit,” he says. “Getting worked up like that isn’t good for you right now. Shoko said to keep it minimal for now, remember?”
You snort. “You’ve drilled it into me, Sugu.”
“Good. I’ll be back in a moment.”
His hand rests on your belly for moment, presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then stands up to go and beat the shit out of his best friend to defend his wife’s honor.
And maybe to have some fun, too.
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taglist: @vagabond-umlaut • @itzmeme • @dellalyra • @torusmochi
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inzsanewrites · 1 year
Text
Cassis Pedelian x fem!Reader
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You felt a migraine coming on as you looked at the blushing faces around the room fixated on you.
You could only let out a frustrated sigh as you recalled your circumstances. You weren’t even suppose to be here but Lant’s favoritism and who ever the hell was hosting this party decided to break tradition to make an exception for you.
“Lady Y/N! If I could-“
“No.”
“Fairest Maiden, I shall sing p-“
“No.”
“My, have I been poisoned and sent to a beautiful angel of death? For my eye-“
“Yes, you have. Now please die.”
Why did they just keep coming?!
Usually the Agriches were avoided as if even a mere whiff of them would bring one the most atrocious nightmares, but it seemed in your case it was a worthy price for even one look at you. Not even the thought of Dion, Maria, and Lant being their in-laws deterred them.
Waving away yet another person, you couldn’t help but glare at Roxana and Jeremey in envy. They at least had to luxury to enjoy the parties banquet without disruption. You couldn’t take a sip of your champagne without someone coming to profess their undying love to you.
When the time came to interact, you couldn’t have been any more grateful to take your place by your father’s side as to avoid a some weird nosebleeding attendant who had took one look at you.
As you approached Lant, you were stopped by Roxana.
“What is it, Roxie?”
There was an unfamiliar gleam in her eye as she spoke to you.
“Soon Sister Y/n will be pleased.”
“What are you talking about?”
She signed, exasperated.
“You shall see, Sister.”
Nevertheless you brushed her off and took you place beside Lant, backing up a bit at the sadistic and eager look in eyes.
It looked like he was desperate to see the mourning look in Rischel Pedelian’s eyes if anything.
And as expected Rischel Pedelian and his daughter walked through the doors, noble as ever but it was the third Pedelian that captured your attention.
Cassis Pedelian.
And from the way he held your awestruck gaze it seem you had caught this as well.
You could’ve easily dismissed it as a passing thing but from the way he’s lips turned up into a fleeting smile, you knew this would be far from the last time you would see him.
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unsaidthingsj2e · 1 year
Text
Promise i don't forget all of my fault in this
Summary : After Jude broke your heart, he can't help but regret how he did it. Loosing his best friend of 10 years is not something he knows how to cope with
a/n : here is part 2 to this fic, probably not what you were expecting but i like it this way better!
english is still not my first language so if any sentence doesn't make sense or if typos are hiding in there, i apologize!! (+ this is even barely proofread sorry)
title is a lyrics from Best by Gracie Abrams
To the eye of anyone else, his life looked like a dream.
With his career predicted to continue its raising towards a legendary peak, a beautiful girl he genuinely was in love with at his side and a promise of everything going his way in life, it seemed like the equation was solved.
The thing is, it was solved, he found x, he had x but he also threw x away, thinking it wasn't necessary to his well-being.
The problem is, x was his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-childhood friend. When he made the decision to leave her behind, he thought he did the right thing.
Breaking her heart was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew she wouldn't have survived seeing him with a new girl while still being in his life. He knew if given the option, she would've stayed at his side, as a best friend, a friend, an acquaintance. So in his mind, breaking her heart, leaving her with a lost soulmate was the best decision, for her.
He had not anticipated how much it would hurt him as well.
He spent the first week feeling unbelievably lighter. Lying to her, going out with his girl behind her back and cheating were not things he had enjoyed doing. He knew he had no right to be sad or even to complain about anything, being the one doing the cheating and not being cheated on.
He was certain if younger Jude could, he would find a way to travel in time and hunt current Jude down until the end of his days. She used to be so much more than an ex-lover.
Ever since primary school, she had been the only constant thing in his life. He had other friendships that he grew out of, he had girlfriends that wouldn't last enough time for him to even get attached, and he now had fans that would forget about him in a few months. But she was always there, and that's what made him think she was the perfect match for him.
He already loved her and they got along better than any other friends, he knew her inside out and still admired her, he already went through hell and back by her side. It made sense that what he was feeling was romantic love. And perhaps it was at first, or maybe it never was, he could not pinpoint the moment he realized he made a mistake and confused platonic feelings for romantic ones.
It's the fact that she realized so much faster than him that scared him, and that made the process happen so much faster. She managed to watch the light fade from his eyes before he could put a name on what was happening in his head when he looked at her. She noticed the nature of the blank stares he would be stuck in and deep down, she knew.
Tonight marks the third week since he broke her heart, and his guilt laced with longing is eating him alive. Because today was the 22nd of the month, day on which, every month without a miss, they would meet up one way or another to watch movies and gossip and catch up on lost time due to their busy schedules.
It had become a tradition since they were kids, Jude had to conceal football and school and ended up being able to spend less time with her. A June 22nd, she had voiced her worries of him forgetting her in the whole process, so he promised at least every month, she would get a night of his full undivided attention.
It was never just movies, some 22nd's were spent on her house's roof, stargazing while sharing terrifying thoughts about growing up, about feelings taking a meaning, others were spent driving around your hometown, signing along to their shared playlist.
But it always was on the 22nd. Twelve 22nd's a year, twelve nights to ensure their hearts were still each others.
Tonight's 22nd was the first one in eight years they weren't in each other's presence or on a videocall. On this 22nd, Jude decided he had to face his feelings. He was done hiding them and pretending this didn't affect him, he lost someone who was dear to him no matter who was to blame.
Coming home from practice, where his performance were mediocre at best, and ended in his coach voicing his worries about his mood and its affect on his stats lately, Jude was worn off.
Turning his keys in the door lock, his eyes fell down on the red phone cabin keychain he reluctantly kept after she forced him to. He had playfully refused to do so at first, claiming this was too much of a tourist thing to even just buy, let alone display on his keys. But she had argued that this would be a fond way to remember every place they had traveled to.
Not realizing he had been staring at the keys lost in thoughts for a few minutes, not making any moves to enter, a soft voice got him out of this haze.
"Jude, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend ask from the other side of the door, voice uncertain and fear audible
"Yes, yes it's me darling. Sorry about that I kinda zoned out", Jude rushed to explain while opening the door, noting how scary hearing the quiet sound of keys fumbling into the lock would've been from her point of view.
He stepped into his house, immediately face to face with his lover, whom he engulfed into a bone crushing hug almost as quickly.
"Today's the 22nd" he mumbled into her hoodie "It sucked, 'm feeling like shit and I did bad at practice"
One thing he made sure to do with any partner of his, was to make sure they both felt safe enough to share any thought, not wanting to hold the weight of any information by themselves. Therefore, he had told her everything about his feeling about his ex best friend, how much he missed her and everything about their moments ; including the 22nd tradition.
"Yeah, i figured you would- not do bad at practice, feel like shit i meant" she answered while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, simultaneously rubbing comforting circles into his back.
"I just- it's so frustrating. I'm the one who broke things off, I got the fucking good side of things and here I am whining about it.", squeezing her body harder, Jude tried another way to convey the emotions that invaded every cell of his body, feeling like words aren't enough. Before he could continue, she interrupted his rant.
"Jude, hun, we talked about this. You did break things off but it was needed, even she could tell things weren't the same anymore. But she was your best friend, shit like that hurts even if it was the best option at the time", this conversation was held almost every day, he was convinced his feelings were not justified because of the way he handled the situation.
"Yeah, I know, my feelings are valid and all this bullshit, doesn't mean it doesn't feel unfair" he moved from the embrace to take his shoes off, focusing on the task to avoid his lover's eyes "I mean, I miss her so much and it's so selfish considering she's probably in her head overthinking the authenticity of every moment we ever spent together, I'm literally a piece of shit". His shoe laces weren't cooperating, seemingly in sync with his conflicting emotions. With a groan, he gave up, throwing himself on the floor with his back on the door, his head resting on it, looking up the ceiling.
She gently crouched down next to him, rubbing his thigh in hopes to calm him down with the soothing movement. "I won't lie and say she's thriving right now, because let's face the truth, it definitely destroyed her-", at this statement, Jude banged his head on the door, "-but. But it was a shitty situation that needed to be dealt with in a shitty way. You missing her is not you being selfish, get that out of your pretty head."
Now on her knees beside him, she brought her other hand on his cheek, nudging him to make eye contact with her. Her gaze was full of empathy for his internal struggle, understanding his part, but also seeing hers. "Did you-" she stopped for a second when he finally looked back at her, eyes glossy, "Did you think about reaching out to talk to her? I'm aware you don't want to do it because you're scared she'd come back and end up hurting more. But. If not for you, do it for her? You haven't seen her since you broke things off, and she didn't even get the chance to talk, she probably is dying to find closure in a way"
"You're probably right, she deserves it. I'm just not even sure she'd want to meet up though. I wouldn't want to see someone who is as much of a dickhead as I am. Good motives or not, I did this badly." Jude did not lack self awareness concerning this situation. It's because he knows her so well that he knew the words he used would wound her deeply, although unintentionally.
Voice barely above a whisper, he shamefully admits, "Sometimes, I don't even want her to get closure. God that sounds so bad but. I don't want her to forget about me, about us. 10 years of friendship is a fucking long time, I don't want her to wipe this off her memory because I was an asshole"
Not even bothering to correct him, and uselessly try to convince him he isn't an asshole, she instead continued, "Please, talk to her, she probably doesn't want 10 years worth of memory to be tainted by this ugly night. And it's been due, for both of your sake." She felt helpless in front of her boyfriend's misery, and would do anything to help it be less intense and all consuming. "Don't let her spend her first 22nd in eight years all alone, thinking you hate her", slowly detangling his shoe lace and tying it back the right way, she moved to kiss his forehead. "Be patient and let her time to voice her thoughts, yeah?"
He stood up, and took his time to take the woman in front of him in, he felt incredibly lucky this exact second. Any other woman would be fuming with jealousy at the thought of their man going to see their ex-girlfriend that they've known for half their life. He hated to think that getting her had to come with losing his best friend. "Okay, yeah, okay i'm going then. I appreciate you so much for this, thank you for understanding."
a/n : you guys : "part 2 w reader living her best life n Jude wanting her back!!"
me : "how about no?" i actually wrote about 6 different start to this but it always felt off, knowing how brutally Jude left reader?
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masonmiamor · 10 months
Text
love to hate - - mason mount x reader.
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Summary: from innocent glances, to the necklace, from the honeymoon stage to the reconciliation stage, how will it all play out once you find out the real truth…
WC: 7k words… 🌚
a/n: HIIII… don’t hate me fr just struggled to get back into writing 🥲🙏🏻 i really hope you enjoy this piece, please do give some feedback if you can 💕💕
“Does everything look okay? Anything missing? Could I bring you anything else?” your kind waiter asked as he approached you and Sophia. “Everything looks great! Thank you!” you replied, thanking him watching as he walked away. You were at your traditional brunch date with the German girl enjoying her company as always, having your waffles and a side of fruit with your choice of coffee.
“So how are you and Mason going?” Sophia asked taking a sip of her Mimosa and then grabbing a bite of her food. “Well if I'm being honest there's a change in our relationship I'm not going to lie,’ you sighed.
About nine months ago, Mason asked you to be his girlfriend… It was a beautiful dinner on a rooftop overlooking London. The cheeky glances and shy smiles he offered, the hand holding across the table, the conversations that flew left and right that finally ended you and him watching the stars by an open field.
“Close your eyes Y/n, I want to give you something,” Mason whispered after having kissed you for the millionth time that night. Sure it was a dangerous move from both of you, having acted like a couple but with no label. But you loved Mason too much to care. You closed your eyes hearing as he shuffled around behind you, Mason gently moved your hair to the side, then leaned over to place and clasp the necklace on you.
Your fingers traced the gold letter M, “I’m confused..” you admitted. Mason crept his hand around your waist pulling you towards him. “First get rid of that cute frown on your face,” Mason began, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Second, it's a necklace because you’re mine, and I’m yours.” There’s still a glint of confusion on your face still, “Third, I want you to be my girlfriend Y/n.”
The words failed to come out of your mouth. You felt your throat close up and become dry, your pulse raising at an ultimate rate. “Your girlfriend? Ar-are you sure? I can be really annoying and impatient-” You began to ramble, but Mason cuts you off with a laugh and a sealed kiss. “Yes, my girlfriend. I'm more than sure, and I want this with you. I want everything you're willing to give me. Annoying or not,” he joked.
“Ok ill be your girlfriend I guess…” you said wrapping your hands around his upper shoulders, kissing the corners of his mouth, the tip of his nose, and then his soft lips.
“What are you implying? Is everything okay?” Sophia narrows her eyes at you. “At first we were in the honeymoon stage. It was a shy yet innocent love, then the arguing came in and it got ugly for a while, but the reconciliation came on and we fixed things… at least I think so… But now I'm just keeping up with his constant mood swings. One day he’s happy, then he’s upset and he won't talk to me, he gets frustrated and leaves, but then always manages to make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world?” you felt relief at saying it, the burden and weight carried off your shoulder.
Sophia would always be there no matter what, she would never judge or ever give a negative comment at all, she was humbled and honest, something you truly love about her. You could trust her with anything even if it wasn't easy for you to open up at times, but her kindness and assurance made you feel safe and wanted. The best friend you wished you had and longed for.
“I just don’t know what to do and it kills me at times when I can’t help him. I never want to invade his space but it hurts me too. I may sound needy or selfish, but I feel helpless… He hasn't even told me if he’s going this weekend. We’re lacking communication and we hide our real feelings from each other?”
“You’re not needy or selfish for wanting that love, if anything you're strong for still being able to keep it all together. I get what you're feeling believe me been there and done that. But you have to stop going to him first and let him realize the damage that’s occurring… As much as it may sting and hurt realization needs to be made first,” Sophia says, interlocking her hands and placing them beneath her chin.
“You're there for everyone, always placing a good smile and joking around and only I and him know what you go through… You deserve to put yourself first… Don’t wait for him if he can't see that, because the most hurtful thing in life is not valuing yourself and letting yourself crumble apart, not knowing where to start and rebuilding yourself…”
“And if it's too late?” you whisper avoiding the sting in your heart that begins to spread coldly through your chest. What if it is too late? What if Mason doesn't realize and leaves you? What if you give up and leave him?
“It’s never too late to realize…”
~~~
“Y/n, you home?” Mason yells out. You sigh and take a seat by the doorway where you remove your coat and boots. “Yes, I'm here!” you answer back before glancing in the mirror and putting your hair up in a messy claw clip. You notice just how drained you look after the past few weeks. The eyebags visible through your concealer, droopy eyes, the paleness around your cheeks and forehead, you looked like hell.
You walk into the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea in hopes of it relaxing you before you begin to pack. The pile of clothes haunting your head that you’ve let to fix. Mason walks into the kitchen and follows to where you were seated eating a small granola bar. “How was your day, love?” he asks kissing your head. There he goes again… not even a kiss on your lips.
“It was okay. Had brunch with Sophia, went shopping and bought my dress for this weekend, and then just drove around to clear my head…” you say resting your head on your propped hand on the table. Mason could sense your tired and distracted figure becoming a bit worried, “What color is the dress? Can I see it?” he asked wanting to hear your voice again. “Yes you can but later, it’s a dark red silky gown,” you said smiling remembering how Sophia kept complimenting you. The dress looked absolutely breathtaking, hugging your figure in all the right places, opened back, and a slight view of your cleavage.
You walked back to the kitchen and prepped your tea in your white mug, Mason watching your every move. You seemed distant and off, and he wondered what had happened. You weren't asking about his day or even looking at him at all when you talked with him, had he done something? He took out the trash and did his laundry as you had asked. So what was it?
“Hey… talk to me… What’s up?” you looked at him surprised, your mug stopping midway from touching your lips. “Me? I’m fine! Just tired and need to finish packing that's all,” you partly lie, taking a sip of your warm drink and face him. Mason furrows his brows and crosses his arms, leaning against the opposite marble counter. “You're lying to me… What’s truly going on?” Mason remarks, “You're avoiding me and fidgeting with your rings, I know you Y/n..”
“It's nothing Mason, I promise. I just don’t think I'm prepared to see everyone this weekend, the last reunion wasn’t the best…” you say finally looking at his brown orbs. “I had planned on riding with my close cousin from here but she ended up getting sick and won’t be attending-”
“I thought we would be going together? Wasn’t that the plan?” he cuts you off.
Oh? “Yes, it was but you haven't said anything to me if you’d attend or not. I didn’t want it to be a distraction from football and recovery,” you set your mug down and sit on the white counter. “I will be going with you, I bought my tux not too long ago, I just kept forgetting to remind you,” Mason said uncrossing his arms and walking towards you. You become shy, feeling your cheeks heat up. “You did?”
“Yep, even had help from my mum,” he chuckles and takes his phone out showing you a picture of him. It was a black tux with a white button-up, and his broad shoulder and arms fit the suit like a glove, “I was just waiting on you to see if I should buy a tie, bow, or leave it as is,” he said tucking a loose string of hair behind your ear. “I say as is,” you offer, giving him a sly smile and enjoying his warm touch against your skin. How long until he’d pull away?
Your heart began to pace quicker, looking at his freckles distracting you from the cold feeling that began to invade your spine to your arms. The urge to look away and clench your jaw to avoid any tears threatening to pour out. You just wanted him to realize how he’s making you feel but you refused to allow yourself to give in. This was harder, it wasn’t going to do any good if you didn't communicate with him.
“Can I be honest with you?” you whisper seeing how he nodded confused, “I'm afraid of you pulling away and going back upstairs to whatever you were doing,” you state. “I'm afraid of the cold air that will replace your warm palm once you go back. I'm afraid of thinking of losing you knowing so much can be done to prevent it…” you whisper the last part, not knowing how he’d react. Would he stay or go? Would he be upset or concerned? Would he pull away or hold you close?
“Losing me? Why would you lose me, baby?” Mason began to get scared at your shaky voice and sad tone. He moved between your legs, his other free hand coming to rest between your waist. He was holding you, finally, your hands continued to grip the counter, knuckles becoming sore from how hard you were gripping it.
“Because you haven't held me like this. Because you haven't kissed me. Because either you're mad at me or someone else and close me out of your life. Because when I try to help even if you may not want it you pull away… Because I'm afraid I'm not being the girlfriend you deserve,” you sigh and sniffle focusing on Mason’s hoodie strings, and how his thumb was soothing your cheek.
“Look at me.”
You hesitantly do so, “You're more than what I deserve. When I asked you to be my girlfriend I saw a future with you. You’ve treated me way better than how I have been treating you. I get it, my random mood swings and attitude aren't the best but you're always there, haven't given up on me… I'm just afraid of it being too much for you. The last thing I’d want is for my problems to distract you or make you leave as the others have…” Mason whispers.
“I won’t leave you, Mason. Not unless you give me a good reason too. I just want you to know that I love you so so so much. Trust me, you won’t be distracting me or putting too much on me. I know what I got myself into when I began dating you. I want it all, everything with you. You make me happy you know?” you grab the back of his head and then bring your hand to his jaw where you rub his cheek.
“Just happy?” he laughs and leans in, tracing your jaw with his nose, snuggling impossibly closer than he was before. He peppers kisses along the areas he just traced, his soft lips driving you insane along with how he was holding you made your head feel cloudy. “I can tell you how you make me feel? Hmm, how about that?” all you could do was nod still distracted by the way he was slowly kissing down your neck to behind your ear.
“I love these hands, how they bring comfort when I need them. I love your smile that never fails to make me feel all nervous all over again, especially when your small dimple comes out, like right now!” he kisses over it making you draw out a giggle. “God that laugh, knowing that I can make you laugh, knowing that you feel safe and sound with me, knowing that you love me no matter what? Makes me the happiest man on earth, and I couldn't ask for more.”
Mason kisses you, at first, it takes you a while to kiss back stunned by the harsh pull. But when your lips mold with his, tasting his minty and musky scent has you wanting more. His tongue teases your bottom lip, and you allow him to explore your mouth, not a fully heavy makeout session, but enough to have you panting after pulling away. “I love you, Mason,” you murmur, he carries you to the long grey couch, your legs tightly around his waist.
When he lays you down, he lays on top of your chest, his hands dragging up and down your sides in a soothing manner, your hand playing with his hair till he slowly drifts away. “I love holding you know? But right now I'm so wishing I could go and finish that tea I made,” you jest, you hear him snort, slowly lifting himself up and walking back into the kitchen. You sit up and extend your legs, looking at what he was doing. Or so tried to see.
“Here you go,” he places the mug on the side table giving you a small peck on your cheek, Mason grabs a pillow and lays it on your lap, laying back down while holding your legs. “I was thinking for dinner if you wanted to make your delicious teriyaki chicken? I'll help make the rice and veggies?” you heard him say, “Sounds delicious, but after this nap, because you deserve some sleep mister.” “After we can go get some ice cream, and come back home to finish packing?” he proposes.
“As long as we enjoy a late-night drive.”
“How about this outfit?” he turns to you, you look up and see him holding a white polo shirt with either a pair of black or slightly blue pants. “I like it! Perfect if we go out to eat together or to wear around,” you praise, he thanks you folding the clothes and setting them inside the small suitcase. You had just finished packing, you were now just setting up your makeup and skincare to carry in your main bag.
“Is this the dress?” you look up confused but then catch Mason staring at the red for the evening. “That’s the one,” you let out, walking over to him and tiptoeing enough to rest your chin on his shoulder. “It's beautiful Y/n…” he compliments, running his hand over the revealed parts of the dress, but also smoothing out the fabric. “Can you try it on now? Or will I have to wait to see it in person?” he questions with a small smirk on his face while he turns around.
“I’d rather you wait. I promise it will be worth the wait,” you laugh, “It's not that I don't want to show you but it's kinda delicate to take on and off you know?”
“I can wait, you're going to look absolutely sexy. I'm sure of it.”
Mason whines for you to get on the bed, but ends up helping you finish packing the other items you have to have ready. He is constantly asking questions about what the different products do, and if you could test them on him one day, which you found to be completely adorable. After assuring him you’d plan a night in and self-care, you fall almost fast asleep once you hit your pillow.
~~~
Mason currently sat on the bed, fixing his watch and rings. He had just fixed his hair, and steamed his suit jacket, waiting on you to finish so he could put it on. He felt nervous, there was a small pit feeling that made him feel off for some reason as if something bad were to go down but he pushed it away, focusing on the fact he could have some time to himself.
On the other hand, you were just finishing curling the last piece of your hair, applying some hairspray before finishing the bombshell curls with a small comb. You applied your lip liner, a darker shade of your red lipstick that you then applied. After spraying some setting spray, perfume, and deodorant you were ready. You slipped on your gown but had trouble with the zipper in the back. You managed to close it, making a mental note to ask Mason to clip the butterfly clasp in the back.
You put on your heels and opened the door, stepping carefully to meet Mason standing up. His eyes roamed your body, his mouth slightly open, and taking a gulp. Just like he had pictured, you look drop-dead gorgeous, the red on you was sexy. He walked over and walked around you in a circle feeling lucky, “Jesus Christ you look so good Y/n,” he said making you blush against his gaze.
His hands came around you, setting them dangerously close to your bum. “I don’t know if I might resist myself tonight,” he joked but he was being serious. This dress was taunting his head with dirty images of you, especially a picture of your lips smudged. “You look handsome, Mason. Can I fix something really quick though?” he nodded and watched as you unbutton two buttons from his shirt. “Leave it like this, looks way better than the turtle neck appearance,” you laughed.
He took one last glance at you, feeling grateful. He took a picture of you looking in the mirror placing your earrings, making it his wallpaper. He came up behind you and kept you close to his chest. “Are you ready to go?” he whispered near your ear, “I'm ready.”
You walked together down to the lift, Mason finding every chance to touch you which you kept laughing and pointing out. You had to make a line at the venue, but luck was on your side and you got there to be seated inside before the rain started to pour. You had seen some familiar faces and said hello to known relatives before going back with Mason. He poured you a glass of champagne, keeping his hand behind your seat showing his protectiveness on you.
“Y/n is that you?” you turned confused, Mason following your movements, where he felt his blood go cold. “Sue…” You stood up and saw your cousin. You and her always never got along, it was a long family feud that started years ago. She took every chance she could to embarrass and harass you. She wore a blue heavy dress and curls that weren't brushed out making you cringe. But next to her was John.
“John?” now it was Mason's turn to speak, John smirked and gave a sloppy kiss to Sue. You side-eyed Mason, becoming uncomfortable. “Just greet her out of respect for your family,” he whispered to where you could only hear, you nodded agreeing with him. “Guess it's a small circle, eh?” Sue snickered. “You still put up with her Mount, shame…”
“It was nice seeing you,” he ignored her grabbing your waist and dragging you outside to cool off. The outside area had almost a twilight theme to it, with big and small white flowers, and so many green trees. “I know him… I used to work with him, but I never saw them dating each other,” you said.
“Yeah me neither, but hey if the shoe fits?”
“Just forget about them okay? It's just us now. Let's grab a drink and sit back down to enjoy the ceremony and we can go back early to celebrate. How does that sound?” Mason suggests, “You mean the world to me you know? I love you so much Mason,” you hug his torso, appreciating the world for bringing a man like him to you.
You feel a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, “I’d give you the biggest kiss right now, but I don’t want to smudge this pretty lipstick,” Mason says along your lips, giving you butterflies. He settles with the kiss on your cheek, holding you by the waist as you walked back inside. After ordering drinks and sitting at the bar, you enjoy the presentations.
The evening is filled with waves of laughter and shared tears. You joked with the table mates around you, feeling comfortable for once when meeting new people. Mason kept kissing your head and shoulder, overall just holding you close, showing his affection which you couldn't complain about.
Once the lights turned off, the DJ began to play music, which made you and Mason get up and dance from time to time. He pulled out his phone and took pictures and videos of you, even posting some on his story to appreciate and show you off. A slow song played after midnight, and his hands were securely around you, while you rested on his chest, leaning your head into each other.
Your bodies swayed side to side, often time where he’d slowly spun you. “I’ll be right back I need a drink of water. Do you want a glass of water too?” you offered, Mason nodded and thanked you. After touching up your hair and makeup you were walking back to the table, a glass for Mason in your hold. Your heels clicked against the marble tiling, walking gently so your ankle wouldn't give up on you.
“Y/n, I want to talk to you,” you turned swiftly to be faced with your cousin, more so the one who has always tried to sabotage you for no reason since you started to date Mason. “Listen, I've had a day, and I don't want to speak with you at all,” you sighed and said sincerely, and it was true, you had no intention of getting along with her anymore. She smiled as you turned around and continued walking to the stairs.
“Are you sure you don't want to talk? It's important, has to do with Mason,” her words angered you, you turned around again and walked over to her calmly, but only god knew how you felt at that exact moment.
To say you were fuming was one word, but the picture of dragging her to make her feel what you felt was on another level. What could she possibly want now? Has she not had enough? You trusted yourself enough with the next words you said, but she had different plans that would forever taunt you. “Leave Mason and me alone, whatever you have to say save it, I'm sure it doesn't mean anything-”
“Not even if it's because Mason got with you for revenge?”
Revenge? What? She chuckled when she noticed the reaction on your face. The glass of water that you were carrying suddenly felt heavier, “What are you talking about?” you sound shaky. “You just never can pay attention Y/n? Can’t you? Mason is only with you because he believed you and John had something serious going on…”
John? John the one Mason grew up with? It didn’t make any sense why would he want revenge on you? What had you done for that to happen? The glass you had was now shattered due to you throwing it angrily. You let out a frustrated breath as your cousin continued with what she was saying.
“It’s true. Mason has never loved you, it was all calculated and planned from the start, he’s only with you for revenge. John slept with his ex-girlfriend, and since you and John had something going on… Well, you can picture the rest yourself…” She crossed her arms back and cocked her head to the said, smirking at your now broken and distraught look.
John had slept with his ex? Revenge? Has it all been fake?
“I'm sorry you had to find out this way my dearest cousin, but, not everything seems sincere and real once you find out in the end,” she walks off, leaving you now resting on the floor holding back the loud sobs. Your shoulders shake, attempting to take deep breaths but you fail, silently crying and holding your palms behind your neck.
The sound in the room all becomes quiet, just you processing what was revealed to you. How long was he waiting to drag it out? He knew John was nothing, an old friend and absolutely nothing more. Why did it have to be you? Was he pretending, was that why he was so quiet and distant during those times?
{ “What do you this is more important when meeting someone? Respect or honesty?” you ask, taking a sip of your red wine. There wasn't anyone else besides you and another couple enjoying their Saturday night out. For once you were grateful for the peaceful setting. Mason thinks about his answers, dragging his fingers along his chin before answering, “Weakness. It shows a lot of a person, and how they handle their surroundings…” }
{ Your dad sits back on his chair staring at you and Mason, who were lost in your own world. “Mason. What are your true intentions with my daughter?” it had caught both of you off guard, you sent a glare to your dad, not finding the timing perfect as others were around you. Mason grabs you and kisses your temple, “Only the best intentions to make her happy, sir.”
“Those are just words,” your dad scoffs, lifting the glass of whiskey and downing it in one gulp.
“I’d marry her right now if she said yes.” }
{ “How do you know John?” you question the brunette you had just met. His name was Mason. He had gorgeous locks of brown hair, his cheeks tainted with freckles and slightly red from being out in the sun. A perfect smile that was sure to make you feel nervous when being around him. He wore a simple baby blue button-up with some tan shorts.
John and you had met through a shared friend, and after some working together in the same town together you enjoyed his presence, but something about him always felt off. Always looking for trouble in the wrong places. You made it clear from the start you weren't looking for anything when he attempted to hit on you, and he respected that. You hadn't spoken since then. But he had just come up to you and Mason, catching up and asking you how you had been.
There was some tension, you looked between the two guys, who either gave each other fake smiles or glares. It wasn't your place to ask but you were curious, only accepting the answers he would give you. Mason opened your beer bottle and handed it to you gently before responding back.
“Let's just say we were like brothers at one point.” }
{ Your first holiday together started off by almost missing your flight, and once arriving at your destination the heat and exhaustion began to kick in. You sat near the luggage claim after passing customs, looking around and holding yours and Mason’s carry-ons tightly, knowing some people were desperate and would take the chance to steal. Or maybe it’s just an irrational fear of pickpockets after your incident in France.
“You okay?” Mason asked, taking the water you had just bought when you offered him some. Small hairs stuck to his forehead due to the light sweat, “I’m doing okay, tired but I'm here with you.” Mason smiles and kisses your lips sweetly. “I love you,” you say.
“Me more.” }
{ “I know I’m being annoying but I’m just asking you to help me really quick with something,” Mason rolled his eyes but listened anyway, you twisted your head at the attitude and wondered if you pissed him off. After struggling to set up the network in your new apartment, you finally caved in and asked him, but you regret it after his reaction.
“You need to start learning how to do things on your own.” }
You slowly found the courage and stood up, the room feeling smaller, or was that your head playing tricks with you? With a trembling hand, you managed to clean the broken glass, you grabbed a blanket and layed on the small antique couch that faced the double doors leading to a balcony. The urge to take off your gown was high, but you didn't have the energy to move from where you were.
You had stopped crying but the pain you felt was still so present. A stinging heart, the feeling of your stomach dropping every time, suddenly becoming cold and chill running up your arms, despite the cozy blanket. You fidgeted with your rings, tracing over the delicate designs, and jewels. What was the point of crying? It wasn't going to bring back the old you and him. The loud chatter and music began again, becoming aware of how long you were missing.
“Y/n? I was looking for you,” Mason said relief running to you. Mason saw your broken state, the dry tear streaks, and your lips were slightly swollen, but yet you looked still so stunning. “What the hell? What’s happened here? What's wrong?” he asked, taking a seat next to you and attempting to comfort you by rubbing his hand along your thigh. “Don’t touch me.”
You stand up and pick up your heels, “Woah, woah, hold on. You have been crying, just please talk to me,” Mason begged, walking around the couch and facing you again. His eyes roamed at your clenched jaw and fists, you were fuming, the pain is replaced with fury, just desperate for answers. “I can’t help you if you don't tell me what's going on-”
“I don’t need your help,” you spit out walking away back to your hotel room. It was clear it wasn't the time or place to discuss this but Mason wasn’t going to let go. He’d never seen you look this damaged and destroyed, your body language was off. “Is there anything you want me to do, I can’t look at you like this not knowing what’s troubling you. I'll give you space if it's what you need,” he said sincerely to you. You laughed loudly turning around and walking to where he was standing in the room, you pushed his chest with your index finger, seeing how he tumbled back.
“You know what I want? I want you to tell me how long you were going to continue this revenge you have on.” Mason looked at you with wide eyes, realizing that someone had told you about everything. His face went pale, shifting his weight from one foot to another, “You bastard! You lied to me, Mason! You only got with me to get revenge on John? I had nothing to do with him!” you yelped out loud, tugging your hair trying to contain other profanities that wanted to be shouted. “I'm so sorry,” he began to apologize and walk over to you, but you took steps back, creating a barrier.
“What do mean I'm sorry?” you couldn't believe him. “There is no excuse for what you did. You lied to me from the start, you made me suffer all those times you wanted to. I had nothing to do with him, or anyone else, was that not enough for you to believe or to at least tell me the truth from the start?” it became too much for you, you promised you wouldn't leave him unless he gave you a reason to, but he’d driven you to the point of betrayal.
“You have to believe me when I say I'm sorry! I regret everything. I was always told from the start it was you who had come into John’s life, who turned him into a better person, and that he had found happiness despite what he did to me. I hated him, for finding someone who valued him and probably didn't know what he’d done. He and others told me you would sneak around and do know gods what-”
“But we didn't Mason. We never did anything besides work that summer. I never liked him like that, he wasn’t the type of person I wanted to waste my time with even if I wanted to. The only thing I believe is that you're a coward who failed to tell me from the start. You should've told me long ago, would've saved us this,” you motion with your hand the distance between you and him.
“Im begging you to believe me I'm hurting too, it was slowly killing me, I wanted to tell you but I was so afraid of losing you. You're the first real person who has treated me better than I treat myself. It hurt me when I hurt you. Y/n I love you, everything we’ve done together, from the first glance, our first date, when I confessed to you that night, all of it was real! And you're right I was a coward for not telling you, but I couldn't bare seeing you like that.”
“How can you say that? How do you expect me to believe you after finding out that my boyfriend did what he did? What you did is unforgivable, and I want nothing to do with you ever again,” you express seriously. You wanted to be left alone, to forget this night ever happened, you wanted to so badly take this dress off and sleep through the pain that has been caused.
“I love you, Y/n” Mason cried out reaching over and grabbing hold of your hands but you pushed him away, seeing his now tears falling down his freckled cheeks, In another moment, where the situation would be different, you'd console him, hold him in your arms, assure him you were there for him, make him feel loved and wanted, but now, you never wanted to see him ever again. To forget everything you had to relive for the past few years and months. All the lies and promises.
“You never loved me, Mason. You bluntly dedicated yourself to humiliate me, to hurt me, to make me feel like the most hated and despised woman to exist? If that's love to you, then wow! I sure as hell put up with you, no? I hate you, Mason.” You had said it. The words that you’d promised yourself you would never say because of the worth they hold. Words even he knew how they'd make you feel.
Mason's eyes narrowed and presented a small frown on his lips not believing you. “You don’t hate me… You’ll learn to forgive-” he said approaching you, scared you’d slip away so quickly without thinking about the situation rationally. “Forgive? Forgive you? Did you learn to forgive, Mason?” your voice is laced with pure honesty and anger. You laughed and tug at your hair, desperate to leave and never come back.
“You condemned me from the start, and I never knew what you were accusing me of. I sacrificed everything, everything for you. I left my family for you, I followed you Mason, but for what? For you to mistreat and despise me? All I ever wanted and asked from you was love, for you to love me as I loved you. Do you not know what it means to a woman to feel ignored and rejected by the man she loves? It's humiliating and humbling Mason…” you whimpered tears staining your face. You could sense your makeup falling out of place, the beautiful lashes that once adorned your eyes were now stained by your mascara and eyeshadow.
Hate. Love. Those were the only things that ran through Mason’s mind, he was frantic now holding you by your waist as you struggled to get out of his hold. “It's all finished now. Forgive me baby-” he began to let out, if he needed to get on his knees and apologize, confess the love he feels for you he will, anything to not make you leave.
“I’d be more than stupid to forgive you…”
“All the lies and betrayal end here. Im giving myself to you, whatever it takes for you to believe me. I love you y/n, and I know you love me. We can work this out, it's not too late. Don’t give up on me just yet, please,” Mason holds you against him, just afraid you’d pull away and actually mean the words you let out. You softly push him away, resting your forehead against him, “I can’t trust what you say anymore. How do I know what you're saying is true?”
“Because as you said, I’m afraid of you pulling away and it being cold everywhere I go,” he refers to what you had said a couple of days ago. “You managed to make me fall for you deep and deeper every day, and I don’t want to lose you. You're mine y/n. It's my fault I get that but all those lies and John end today, they have ended. It was childish, and so stupid for me to do,” Mason says, he reaches over to hold your hand.
“Im going to make it up to you. I’ll prove to you just how much you are worth and mean to me because I see us growing old like we discussed that night long ago. I won't give up on us yet even if you claim to hate me. Be angry at me but don’t hate me.”
~~~
Things didn’t get easier. The distance and silence were killing you and Mason for about a month. You had set up a routine where you'd work and quickly come back home. Your night either ended up being tucked inside your sheets or going out with your girlfriends. You weren't technically broken up, but there was a break.
During that period Mason had finished his season at Chelsea. It was a long and excruciating period, the wins, the losses, the setbacks, and the injuries, he deserved more. He had also set a routine, always needing something to distract him from his thoughts, from you. He had texted you, sometimes gifted with a text back, but when you didn't he didn't push it. He was miserable. Everyone around him could see it.
He enjoyed morning runs, coming back to shower, and then napping. He’d go out with his teammates and or go to Portsmouth to visit his family. Although his family asked for you all the time, he couldn't bare telling them yet. “She’s busy at her architecture firm…”
Currently, he was sitting in the club with his phone in his hand scrolling through Instagram where you had posted you were alone, a book in your hand, and a glass of wine in the back. He liked the story and hid his phone away, humming at the current rap song playing in the back. “You good?” asked Kai, who took a seat next to Mason. “Nah man, I’m quite bored here,” Mason laughed and took a sip of his beer.
“She’s with Sophia right now,” he randomly said. “Sophia was telling me she preferred to stay home nowadays. Working or just hanging out with friends. She’s more reserved and quiet now but always asks how you're doing. Don’t tell Sophia I told you though…” he looked at the blue-eyed German, looking for a sign of lying but he wasn’t. “Don’t lose her now, you may want to give her space but the longer you distance yourself from her, the more of a chance you get of her never appearing again in your life is possible.”
You had been thinking of him? Asking about him? “Sophia is going home early because she's going to Germany. Y/n is free for the rest of the weekend, and I know she has been wanting to see you,” Kai says, opening a bottle of beer and taking a gulp of it. “Thank you, Kai,” Mason smiles at him, “I just don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything then. Prove to her you're still the Mason she still fell in love with.”
When Mason had parked by the side of the road facing your apartment he noticed your living room light on. He was debating whether or not to go up and knock on your door or just go home and lose the opportunity he had waiting for him. His thumb kept brushing over your contact, the urge to call you to hear your voice. “Oh fuck it.”
He didn't look back, just quickly ran up the stairs and stood infront of your front door. He knocked on the door three times, hearing your footsteps coming closer to him. Mason stuck his hands in his pockets when he heard the door unlock. He saw you still wearing your clothes from the day and not your usual comic pj’s and a long sleeve or one of his shirts.
Mason was stunned, just as you were. You weren’t expecting to see him, but he also did not expect you to open the door this late at night. “Mason,” his breath hitched when hearing your voice again, desperately wanting to reach out and kiss you deeply. Hold you against him as he had been dreaming. To have you near him at all times as he desired. He just needed you. You felt the same way. You were willing to give him a chance to explain himself, or at least attempt to try and restart all over again.
“Can I come in?”
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thegainingdesk · 1 year
Text
Beach Body
Chapter 1
"So she does this every single year for her birthday?" I asked. "What if she wants to do something else?"
"It's a tradition!" Natasha insisted. "It's fun. No, really, it is! Oh, look out for a turning on the left."
"I hate these tiny country roads. And what if it rains one year?" I pointed out.
"It's the start of August, it doesn't rain. There it is, can you see?"
"It can rain in August." I wouldn't let go of this. I turned down the track she'd pointed out.
"There's a pub! We all go to the pub in the village and get pissed instead of having a barbecue on the beach, okay? And it's obviously not going to rain today." Natasha was obviously right about that, bright sunshine illuminating the Welsh countryside around us. "Look, I really don't know what you're worried about."
"I just don't know why I was invited. I've only - there's a car ahead, do you reckon they'll get past if I stop here? - I've only been working with you all for a couple of months, I basically only know you and Jackie." Even I had to admit that I was starting to border on whining at this point.
"But we really like you! And this is a great way to get to know people! Sun, food, a few drinks-"
"I'm driving," I pointed out, interrupting her.
"Well it's bad if you can only have fun if you've gotten drunk," Natasha scolded.
"That's not what I said at-"
"Here! Coming up! Do you see the car park on the left?"
I sighed and parked up, greeting Jackie and a large group of her friends, some familiar, some not. We grabbed various bags of food, drinks and blankets out of the car while we waited for the last few people to arrive. I greeted the few people I knew and introduced myself to some others, promptly forgetting half a dozen names.
Armed with a cool bag of meat slung over one shoulder, and a portable barbecue awkwardly tucked into the crook of my elbow, I joined the line of people making their way across the zigzagging tracks over the dunes leading to the beach. The dunes, while beautiful, were difficult to traverse, and the group split up into small parties, each determined that they'd found the easiest route around or over the steep mounds of sand.
"I'm just saying," I said quietly to Natasha after dropping the barbecue for the third time, looking around to check that Jackie wasn't close enough to hear, "that they are easier beaches to have a barbecue at, y'know."
A loud laugh from behind us, and I turned to see a handsome man I hadn't spoken to yet. "It is a really stupid beach, to be fair," he said, a wide smile on his face.
Jackie's voice came faintly from the next dune over. "What was that?"
"I said it's a fucking stupid beach!" the man called back. He caught my eye, and I must have looked taken aback because he explained: "I'm her brother, I'm allowed to tell her that her annual beach birthday's rubbish." I laughed. "Chris," he stretched a hand out.
I could see the family resemblance to Jackie - the same nose, the same dark blonde hair. Chris immediately put me at ease, with a thick blonde beard framing a constant smile, and deep smile lines around his eyes, despite looking like he was in his early thirties. His handsome face and deep voice set a tingle in my swim shorts.
I took his hand and shook it. "Adam. You must have been doing this your whole life then?"
He laughed loudly. "You'd hope so! No, this is actually a tradition she came up with at about twenty."
"Oh! I sort of assumed it was a childhood thing," I replied.
"That's what she wants you to think. I personally think twenty-eight is a little old to insist on being a special little birthday girl" he shouted this last part across the dunes, and a quiet "fuck off Chris!" came in reply, before he turned to me, and quietly now "but that's just me."
I laughed, his infectious good mood making me forget my earlier reservations about the day. By this point, Natasha was well ahead with some other people from the office and Chris and I were left alone.
"So you work with Jackie?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, just started a few months ago," I replied.
"Enjoying it?"
"Yeah! It's a nice company, people are really friendly." Speaking to Chris, even my boring job was sounding better.
"You're going to have to explain what it is you do, Jackie's never actually been able to make me understand."
"So I'm on the software side, I develop the algorithms that we use to…" I caught myself, realising I was being boring. "I do things with computers that make them make money," I joked.
"Oh my god, I love computers and money!"
"And what about you? What do you do?" I asked.
"Very similar. Computers, money. Sometimes meetings."
"Meetings! Exotic. Is that around Cardiff as well?" I asked.
"Edinburgh." My heart sank, my already slim chances of a date with a handsome, funny man disappearing to nothing. "As much as I think this annual beach birthday is silly, it at least forces me to come back and see everyone."
We walked on for a while, making easy conversation with each other. After a while Chris turned to me. "It's nice to have someone to chat to at this thing. Usually it's just Jackie's work friends talking about office drama and her uni friends talking about decade-old gossip, with me in the middle."
"Surely there's the rest of the family?"
"Nah, she insists on it being young people, but we don't have any cousins, so it ends up just being me. We always do a family thing another night," he shrugged. "Still," he caught my eye and smiled, "I reckon this one will be good."
We heard a small cheer of celebration up ahead as the people in front arrived on the beach, and we sped up, running awkwardly through the sand of the dunes. When we arrived, we dumped our bags in a small pile and helped to spread out the blankets.
I took off my shoes before hesitating, self-conscious of my body. I had a perfectly average body, maybe a little too tall and skinny, but I was always nervous of taking my shirt off in front of other people, lacking the washboard abs and bulging muscles of seemingly all of my friends. I looked around and told myself that no-one would pay me any attention, but I froze, fingers on my top button.
While the other men were wearing swim shorts in various lengths and colours, Chris had stripped off both his fun Hawaiian shirt and particularly short shorts to reveal a pair of bright flowery speedos. His shirt was hiding a subtly chunky body, with a roll of fat sticking out ever so slightly above the colourful lycra, and below, thick legs pooched out ever so slightly where the speedos cut into them. All of this was covered in a veritable pelt of hair, hiding the slight softness of his body.
Chris looked up and caught my eye, and I realised I was staring. I looked away quickly, but could have sworn he gave me a small wink. Emboldened by Chris' confidence and by the lack of notice everyone was paying him, despite the amount of skin he was showing, I unbuttoned my shirt and put it with my shoes.
A while later I walked up to Chris who was manning the various barbecues and settled down next to him. Droplets of salt water still clung to my skin and in my dark chest hair, and I thought the effect was quite sexy, if you ignored all the sand that was sticking to me as well.
"The sea good?" he asked.
"Fucking freezing," I replied.
He smiled and held out a beer to me.
I put up a hand. "Designated driver I'm afraid."
"Fair enough," he pulled the top off and began to drink it himself.
"Are you always in charge of the barbecue?" I asked.
He nodded. "And the beer cooler. It means I get to have more than anyone else without anyone calling me out on it."
I gave a small chuckle. "Good plan," I told him, and took a cheeky look sideways at him. Sure enough, his hairy stomach did look a touch more bloated than it had done earlier. "So your umm…" I cringed at the words even as I formed them, "your girlfriend couldn't make it today?" Smooth Adam. Real smooth.
"Ah, no. My, well my boyfriend had to work." My heart sank. Still, I noticed that his smile shrank ever so slightly when he mentioned his boyfriend.
"Oh! Sorry to assume, I didn't mean to-" I flustered.
"No! No, it's fine really. It happens. Do you? Have a boyfriend?" He held my eyes. "Or girlfriend? Or boyfriend?" His smile was growing again.
"Nope. Single. I broke up with my last boyfriend a while ago." I stressed the word boyfriend more than I meant to. Despite the 400 miles we lived apart, and his boyfriend, I still felt the need to make sure he knew I was gay as well.
"Oh I'm sorry," Chris said.
"Not at all, it was a while ago," I smiled at him. "Just, you know, enjoying being single."
"Yeah, I miss it a little sometimes," Chris said, and I detected an ever so slight sadness in his voice, but he quickly covered it up with his usual, unchanging smile. My heart leapt a little. He was probably just making small talk, sympathising with the lonely singleton, but a boy could dream, couldn't he?
Chris offered me a chicken drumstick. "Have you tried these? They've got like a Korean marinade thing, they're gorgeous. It's like bitter and sweet at the same time. I've had about ten."
I reached over and took it from him, taking a small bite. It was good, and I duly gave a small hum in agreement, but I wouldn't say they were exceptional. Chris picked up on my silence and laughed. "It's probably just me," he told me. "Jackie's always said I'm like a labrador when it comes to food. Food motivated." He beamed at me and picked up another chicken leg, his eyes closing in bliss as he chewed.
I readjusted my shorts ever so slightly. My attraction to Chris was growing as I got to know him - his constant cheerfulness, his small jokes, the way he didn't seem to care what anyone thought about him.
Later that day, I drove back in silence, Natasha passed out after a day of gin in the sun. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, as I thought back to the day I'd spent mainly with Chris. Despite all the reasons I could never realistically go out with him, I was utterly besotted by the man. I found myself surprised that I was already looking forward to Jackie's 29th.
Chapter 2
"Adam!" Chris called, almost as soon as I'd come from behind the last dune before the beach. "Great to see you!"
I grinned, a little embarrassed. I'd never be able to be so open about being so excited to see someone, but then that's exactly what attracted me to him last year. Paul, a friend from the office, gave me a confused glance which I purposefully ignored. "Hey," I greeted Chris, "looking good man!"
This, I thought to myself, was very true. He was wearing the same flowery speedo as last year, but it now looked positively painted on. He'd clearly put on some weight, last year's roll of flab turning into a sack of fat, suspended above the tight swimwear. His thighs had faint criss-crosses around the tops, not quite hidden by the thick hair there, and his chest now stood ever so slightly forward and down - he didn't quite have moobs, but there were certainly small pockets of fat that weren't there last year. He'd shaved his beard down to stubble, showing just a hint of a double chin forming below his jawline. While I'd never particularly gone in for the overly-ripped, action-man physique, I was still surprised by how much I enjoyed the changes to Chris' body.
I followed Chris back to where some barbecues were already set up. "Got a beer for me in one of those boxes?"
He passed one over. "Not driving this year?"
I nodded over to Natasha, who had a small crowd around her cooing over a small bump at her midriff. "Natasha's pregnant so she's not drinking anyway."
"Handy!" He clinked his bottle against mine and took a swig. I took my shirt off and was pleased to see Chris' eyes rake up and down my body, taking it in. "Sun's out, guns out, eh? You're looking fit!"
I smiled at the compliment and thanked him. I'd taken advantage of the company gym a fair amount over the past year, and for the first time ever I felt like my body could be described by more adjectives than just 'lanky'. I gave a small, joking flex, quietly proud of my beach body and was surprised when Chris reached out and gave my bicep a squeeze. "Looking good," he repeated.
We caught up for a while, taking advantage of being in charge of guarding the beer coolers, Chris eating seemingly almost constantly. While I'd thought back again and again to last year, I'd forgotten just how easy Chris was to talk to, and how much I enjoyed his company.
A few beers in, my courage picked up. "Boyfriend not here again?" I asked bluntly.
He looked confused. "Boyfriend? What do you- oh, John? God, you've got a good memory. No, he cheated on me, I found out around Christmas-ish."
"Oh god, I'm sorry. What an arsehole." I clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, fuck him, y'know."
He laughed at this. "Fuck him! Funnily enough, that's what my mate Sarah did." He laughed again, clearly unbothered.
"Hey! Bisexual affair though! Very modern, very progressive," I joked
He nodded, still laughing, and I watched intently as his paunch shook. "That is a big comfort to me, that at least he cheated on me in a diverse way." His smile grew lopsided as he looked at me, and he shuffled a touch closer to me. "And you? Got a boyfriend on the scene?" He'd lowered his voice now.
"Umm, nope. No. No boyfriend. Some tinder dates, you know but umm," I looked down at his lips. "Single. You know. Available. For stuff."
He nodded and looked around at what everyone else was doing. "The dunes are lovely. To walk around. And stuff. If you wanted to-"
"I want to. Yep. Absolutely. Lovely dunes." I nodded furiously, the sudden movement making me feel more drunk. "The ecosystems and the, uh, crescent shapes."
"Fucking love an ecosystem," Chris said, standing up while he fished out another couple of beers to take with us and quickly grabbed one last hot dog to take with him.
We ran up the closest dune, laughing, and practically fell down the other side. Chris grabbed my hand and led me a bit further on, before pulling me towards him and kissing me, having to reach up slightly to account for the several inches of height difference between us. I melted into him, my shoulders immediately releasing tension I didn't know I was holding, and I ran my fingers through his hair.
The combination of beers, sun and arousal made us act like schoolboys having their first kiss. We stumbled again and again as we continued to walk through the dunes, not paying enough to where we were going, our hands grabbing at each other's bodies the whole way, and giggling breathlessly.
Chris' hand moved down to my swim shorts, and he pulled away slightly, his tongue briefly coming out to wet his lips as his hand rested on my straining cock. "Enjoying yourself I see?"
"Very much so," I replied, pulling him closer to kiss him again. My own hand moved down to his own crotch and I cupped his bulge through his speedos, running my fingers along his length before grasping his hard cock through the lycra. He exhaled shakily and I felt his body tense slightly as I stroked him, grabbing at the fat at his sides as I did so, kissing him deeply the entire time.
Chris stepped back and pulled me down onto the steep sand with him, grabbing my own cock beneath my shorts and began pumping his hand slowly. I pushed him back and pulled down his speedos and my shorts around our thighs. I sat up and straddled him before I grabbed both our cocks in one hand, my long fingers struggling around them both, and began stroking us off together. Chris gave a breathless laugh and laid back, his eyes rolling up into his head in pleasure. I kept my eyes open, watching the shaking of his beef with each small twitch of his body. Chris began to gently girate his hips and I sped my hand up, the fingers of my other hand probing into his flesh, the fat pooling up around them. I heard Chris' breath catch and I relaxed my body, letting my own climax come, so that we both sprayed thick jets of cum up his body at the same time.
I rolled off him and lay next to him, both of us catching our breath. He shifted his weight, rolling over slightly to kiss me. "That", he whispered, "was really fucking hot."
I laughed and nodded. "You know, I really feel like we haven't explored these dunes very much yet."
He took on a faux serious expression and nodded. "I personally don't feel I've seen enough of the unique flora and fauna endemic to Welsh dune ecosystems." He stood up, struggling to pull his too tight swimsuit back up his thighs, and I followed suit, my own swimsuit coming up easily. "There's a sort of cove-y inlet-y thing, that way," he said, pointing, "that's pretty secluded. We could clean ourselves up and explore a little more." He spread his arms out and motioned down at his sticky torso before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Sounds perfect," I agreed, taking his hand.
A couple of hours later, we stumbled back onto the beach, Chris making a beeline for the barbecue. Thankfully, someone had taken over his duties so there was plenty of food for him to grab. My friend Paul sauntered over and raised an eyebrow suggestively. "You look like you've had a good time."
"We just went for a walk. It's very beautiful around here," I protested.
"Very beautiful," Paul nodded, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I wouldn't have had you down as a chubby chaser."
"What? I'm not a chub- nothing happened! And he's not chubby! That's very rude. And nothing happened anyway!" I could hear my voice go up too high as I blatantly lied.
"No, no, absolutely, I believe you," Paul said. "Your shorts are on backwards by the way."
I felt my face go even redder, if that was possible. I was saved from my embarrassment by Chris returning with a beer for me, and we moved towards the sea for a swim.
"Listen, I know you'll be going back to Edinburgh, but if you're around this week for a drink or something…" I suggested, once we were in the cold water.
The smile on Chris' face completely faded for the first time since I'd met him, not even a joking undertone left. "I'm going back tomorrow morning. 6 am flight."
I forced a smile. "Yeah, of course! That's fine, of course. You'd have wanted to spend time with your family anyway."
"No, no, I'd love to, I would. I really would." Chris looked genuinely sorry. "It just didn't work out. I'm sorry."
Later on, I sat in the back of Natasha's car, exhausted from a mixture of alcohol, food, sun and sex. Natasha was explaining to Annie in the front seat about how she'd actually had so much more fun while not drinking, and she was so embarrassed for all of us, convincing no-one, when Paul leaned over from the other side of the back seat.
"He seemed nice", he offered.
"Yeah, nice," I replied distantly.
"You guys going to see each other again?" he asked.
I shook my head. "He lives in Edinburgh."
"Shit, I'm sorry. Will he be there next year do you reckon?"
I gave a small smile. "Yeah, next year maybe."
Chapter 3
I got to the beach first, the usual work group trailing behind me. I was desperately trying to seem cool and calm, but I knew I was failing miserably. I looked around for Chris but couldn't see him anywhere.
"Jackie! Hey! Happy Birthday! Thirty! The big one!" I ignored her angry reply about how she didn't want to be thirty yet. "Yep. Uh-huh. Absolutely. Got to hate the linear flow of time. Anyway, Chris not here yet? He usually comes to this, right? Can't miss the big day!"
"Oh, do you two know each other? Yeah, he's going to be late, he was visiting our grandma so he's coming all the way from St Davids," she said the name of it like a joke, and I duly laughed, never quite getting the hang of Jackie. Me and Chris had texted a few times in the past year, but I'd been too nervous to ask him directly about coming to his sister's birthday, so I was relieved to hear he was coming.
An hour and a half and a few beers later, I heard a wolf-whistle behind me. "You've joined the speedo club I see!" I turned around to see Chris approaching me, fat jiggling with each heavy footstep. I'd been inspired by his confidence and my own improving physique to opt for something skimpier this time, and was happy to see that he hadn't worn anything less revealing.
It was clear that last year's weight gain wasn't a one-off. While before, he might be able to get away with being charitably called stout or burly, he was downright fat now. His gut was now a heavy, near-perfect sphere, bulging out to the sides and slightly sagging down in front of him, with genuine tits, round, plump sacks of flesh that sat on top of his belly. His always present smile now pushed two chubby cheeks out like a hamster, and he'd regrown his beard, much thicker than before, in a clear and futile attempt to cover a rounding jawline.
I matched his beaming smile and walked towards him, grabbing a beer and a burger on the way for him. I handed them over and slapped a hand onto his gut, emboldened by the few drinks I'd had while waiting. "You've got some new speedos yourself I see," I said quietly.
He twisted and pulled his gut out of the way to look, before looking back at me. "Ah, yeah, the other ones," he looked away sheepishly, "don't really fit anymore."
I bit my lip. "I'm sure they don't," I said jokingly. He smiled nervously back at me.
"Listen, I'm going to have a swim, grab some food. I'll talk to you later, alright." I watched him walk away, deflated. Did he regret last year? Or maybe something had happened, to make him so frosty? A new boyfriend maybe?
I sat and drank on a large rock, until he walked over to me and sat down next to me. Despite my nervousness, I thrilled at the thick fat on his sides brushing against my arm.
"I've been thinking about you, this year," he said finally. I looked over, heart rising.
"Me too," I replied with a smile.
His face broke into its usual grin. "Good. Good. I was a bit nervous, since you didn't text or anything. I wasn't really sure if you'd come."
"I thought the same, honestly," I confessed.
"And then," he continued, "I arrived and saw you looking really fucking good," he reached over and squeezed my strong thigh, "and I thought maybe I'd gotten too fat for you." His face had become bright red as he said this.
I laughed at him. "I like it. Really. It works for you. You carry it really well." I reached out and squeezed his own thick thigh, the fat feeling like butter beneath the skin.
"So you're into fat guys, hey?" He was still smiling, but looked a little embarrassed.
I shook my head. "Not really. I'm into you though."
His smile grew even wider. "I'm into you too." He reached out and held my hand. "I tried to diet for a bit," he confessed after a while.
"I can't imagine you dieting. You're way too confident. Like, you don't care what people think. It's sexy," I told him
"Well it turns out I'm not very good at it. I didn't actually lose any weight. But, y'know, I had the thought. Downloaded an app and everything."
"What was the app?" I asked, quietly laughing.
He shrugged. "It counted calories, told me when I was being a fat arse. Turns out I was probably supposed to do something with that information."
"Probably," I agreed.
Eventually, I realised his cheeks weren't getting any less red. "You're burning," I said, jumping up, "I'll go get some sun cream."
"I'm fine! I'm fine, really, I don't burn" he grabbed my hand to pull me back down but I pulled away.
"You're bright red. I'll get you some food and beer while I grab it," I promised. He relented, pleased that eating and drinking would now be involved.
I came back with my hands full, and passed everything over. I sat behind him and squirted some sun cream onto his back while he ate, and started rubbing it in wide circles. I relished the feel of his soft fat under my fingers, sliding my fingers deep into the crevices and folds of his body, and grabbing thick slabs of beef, all in the name of his skin health. I repeated the process on his front, exploring his soft tits, and hefting his gut up towards his face before letting it go and watching the ripples move through his body. I lingered for far longer than was necessary, tangling my fingers into the hair that covered his body, down from his shoulders, spreading across his torso and arms.
A while later, we both lay sunbathing on the sand, Chris barely moving, while I'd periodically jump up to grab him a snack. I handed him a burger and he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me. "Listen, I'm not going home for another few days, and I've got a room at the village pub. Did you want to come for dinner? Maybe stay the night?"
"Dinner? You've been eating all day!" I responded.
"I've been snacking all day, I'll need a proper meal," he explained. I could see why he'd put on so much weight.
"That sounds good though, yeah. We need to make sure you don't waste away."
We fell into bed that night, Chris' stomach stretched tight and even rounder than earlier. I pulled off his too small t-shirt, unaccustomed to seeing him in clothes at all. I watched him for a minute or two try to take his shorts off, the button pulled tight by his heavy gut above. I took pity on him and made him suck his gut in, which he managed to, with difficulty, just enough for me to free the button and pull down the zipper, to reveal his aching cock straining against his speedos, still on from earlier.
"There's some condoms and lube in my suitcase," he told me.
"Someone was confident!" I said, but fetched them nonetheless.
He struggled to sit up, his full gut getting in the way, so I pushed him back down. "Don't you worry big guy, I'll do all the work." I sat next to him on the bed and helped him rub his gut, filled with a day's worth of barbecue and beer, and topped off with a heavy dinner, including dessert. He groaned, and I kissed him deeply. I pulled off his speedos, and his dick sprung up, slapping against his distended belly, smearing it with a spot of pre-cum.
We spent the night fucking, being as gentle as possible with Chris' overfull stomach. We spent the next day together as well, lounging on the beach, and I called in sick to work on Monday so we could spend one last day together. As I got out of Chris' car outside my house, he got out and kissed me, making me promise to stay in touch.
Chapter 4
I walked out onto the beach and made a beeline for Chris, pulling my shirt off as I approached him. He'd continued to gain weight, and his ball gut had expanded out, retaining its spherical shape but sagging down, with a deep cavernous belly button at its centre. Thick love handles sat either side of the giant gut, and above it his ample tits sat thick, beginning to droop ever so slightly towards his sides. His thighs were like tree trunks and were easily larger around than my waist, and between them I could just make out a bright flash of fabric, his speedos almost completely covered up from the front.
"They still make those in that size?" I teased him as I reached him.
"Well I don't think they don't make them too much bigger," he laughed.
"You've got your bags?" I asked.
He nodded. "In Jackie's car. You're not driving anyone back?"
"Nope, free to go as soon as we're done here." I grinned at him, excited about our planned week in Cornwall. "You can have a drink though, if you want, don't worry."
He shook his head. "I'm happy just spending some time with you."
I smiled at him and gave him a kiss. Some work friends looked over curiously, but I saw Paul and Natasha lean over to fill them in on all the gossip.
"We'll be the talk of your office will we?" Chris asked.
"Oh, hardly. It turns out Greg might actually be the father of Natasha's baby, so we'll barely be a blip on their radar."
"Oh my god!" Chris said. "I don't know who any of those people are!"
I laughed and led him over to the barbecue.
As we drove away that evening to my house, I looked over at Chris, as he snored faintly. He'd not had anything to drink, but he'd eaten so much over the course of the day that getting back over the sand dunes had been a genuine issue, and by the time we got back to the car park everyone except Jackie and her fiancé had long gone. Jackie passed over Chris' bags and I put them in the boot while Chris collapsed into the front seat, the car dipping dramatically on that side.
That night lacked the urgency of the other times we'd met, not driven by lust, but rather just enjoying each others' company. We watched a movie while I snuggled into his side, sinking into his soft fat like a pillow. The next morning I made a large breakfast before we set off on our holiday.
Chapter 5
I walked out of the sand dunes and was almost immediately accosted by old colleagues. "How's Edinburgh?" Paul asked.
"Great! Really, really great! The job's basically the same thing, computers, money, meetings, you know," I replied.
"And Chris? How's he?" Natasha asked.
"He's great too, we've settled really well into living together, it just all works."
"Is he coming or…?"
I turned around to look at the dunes. "He's just taken the scenic route, he'll be here in a bit." For the most part I'd gotten used to walking at Chris' slower pace, and kept with him for most of the walk, but had run ahead at the last couple of dunes. Sure enough, after a minute or two he appeared between the bases of two dunes.
He'd put on more weight while we were living together, but he'd slowed down a little recently. Still, he was clearly bigger than the last time we were here, one year ago. While the changes might not be so obvious to a lot of people, just a fat man getting fatter, I noticed them all. His stomach stuck out just that bit more, his sides that much wider, his legs that much softer.
He walked over to me (waddled might be more accurate, I pondered, especially on the soft sand), and gave me a peck on the cheek. We put our bags down a convenient distance to the food, and stripped down to our speedos, Chris' once again new to stretch across his added weight.
"Fancy a swim?" Chris asked me, already walking towards the water.
"Sounds good," I said, quickly catching up to him. "Maybe afterwards we can go for a walk through the dunes?" I raised my eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh fuck off!" Chris said. "I'm not going back through those, I'm knackered after that walk. You're just going to have to wank me off in front of everyone, if it comes to it."
I laughed and kissed him on the cheek, admiring the plush softness. "Well hopefully it won't come to that."
"Why not?" Chris asked, joking. "Do you not think I'm beach body ready?"
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erin-bo-berin · 2 years
Note
I have an idea: Steve and the Reader at a wedding (someone in their friend group got married) and Reader catches the bouquet while Steve catches the garter.
I’m sorry it’s taken me forever to get this one up! But I was thinking long and hard about who I wanted to get married and I hope you don’t mind, but I really wanted it to be a Jopper wedding. Like I just want them and all the party to be there and then Steve and the reader just get teased and it just be a good time 🥺
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“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”
The entire wedding procession—guests included, hooted and hollered, cheering for the newly wed couple.
Your friends, Joyce and Hopper had finally got married.
You’d sat in your seat in the crowd, dressed in your best summer-y, flowing, sun dress, watching with a big smile on your face.
Your boyfriend, Steve, had been one of Hopper’s groomsmen and he looked stunning in his dark suit, boutonnière pinned on his lapel.
You cheered just as loud as everyone else, clapping hard. You were extremely happy for your friends, them being parental-like figures in your life. It truly was like seeing your mom and dad happy.
They walked back down the aisle and Hopper raised their joined hands, cheering with everyone else.
“Now, who’s ready to party?” he hollered.
The reception was held in the backyard just feet away from where the ceremony had been set up.
There was room for a dance floor, the music being provided by a boom box set on a table. There was the beautiful wedding cake and other refreshments for everyone to snack on during the reception.
“You looked very handsome,” you said, smiling up at Steve, straightening his bow tie.
“Don’t get used to seeing me like this, I don’t do it for just anyone,” he teased.
“I know,” you smiled, “But you still looked great standing up there, all proud.”
You patted his chest, leaning up to peck his lips.
“Well, I’m also lucky enough to have the prettiest date,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around you.
“Stop,” you chuckled, “But thank you.”
“Just telling the truth, baby.”
He dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“Shall we dance?” he asked, offering his hand.
“I think we shall.”
The cake was absolutely delicious. You might’ve gone back for seconds—or thirds. Not that the newly married couple would’ve cared.
They were lost in their own world of newly married bliss. It put a smile on your face, watching them be so incredibly happy.
When it came time for Joyce to throw her bouquet, your friends all pulled you over to join and you laughed, obliging them.
With her back turned, she gave a hard toss, throwing the bundle of flowers in the air. Somehow, you don’t know quite how, they landed in your grasp.
Your friends cheered, laughing at your shocked face.
“I’m not sure who looks more shocked, Y/N or Steve,” Max laughed.
You turned and your boyfriend was laughing, shaking his head, a huge smile on his face.
Things got even more ironic—yet humorous—when it was the men’s turn to catch the garter.
“Oh come on, do I have to?” Steve complained.
“Yes, I had to participate in the bouquet toss, so you can do this,” you chuckled, pushing him playfully towards the gathered males.
Hopper pulled the garter gently off Joyce’s leg, twirling it around a finger as he turned his back to the fellas.
“It better be anyone but you to catch it, Mike!” he hollered, sending everyone into a hearty round of laughter.
The garment went flying and whether on accident or on purpose, Steve caught it effortlessly. You buried your face in your hands, face flaming at the even wilder cheers when everyone noticed who’d caught it.
“Party next year at Steve and Y/N’s wedding!” Dustin hollered.
Steve just smirked your way and it was your turn to smile and shake your head, exasperated.
As tradition would say, it seems like the universe had picked you two to get married next.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Mike teased, throwing an arm around both of your shoulders, later.
“We’ll need to know well in advance, cause we better be a part of it,” Lucas said, coming up.
“I mean you’ve got enough of us for groomsmen,” Will added, joining the group.
“And bridesmaids,” Max grinned, appearing.
“We’d love to be in your wedding,” El smiled.
“See? It works out perfectly,” Dustin beamed, looking at his friends.
“Except for one thing, guys,” you chuckled, amused at their eagerness.
“We aren’t getting married,” Steve said, brow cocked in your shared amusement.
“Not yet, you aren’t,” El laughed, the others agreeing.
They left, their laughter and voices fading.
“Hopefully soon though!” Mike called.
It was only later when you had a moment to yourselves during the rare slow song that had came on, that you had a chance to tease him.
Your arms were loose around his neck, his around your waist as you swayed gently to the song.
“So apparently we’re getting married now, huh?”
The teasing smirk on your lips made him chuckle.
“We still got plenty of time for that, honey.”
“True. But maybe one day,” you smiled wistfully.
“I’d love nothing more than to marry you one day, that I know for sure,” Steve smiled gently down at you.
“Why, Steve Harrington, are you proposing to me?” your teasing tone, made his grin widen once again.
“Oh, believe me, Y/N. You’ll know when I propose to you.”
Your smile was bright as you brought your lips to his, kissing him gently.
“Just so we’re clear,” you whispered, head laying against his chest as you continued to move gently to the soft music playing, “I’d love to marry you one day, too.”
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nat-space-obsessed · 28 days
Text
"I'm 23." "No, You're Not."
Crossposted on AO3!
It turns out to be very hard to get a tattoo when you look eternally 14.
Prompt by @charcoalhawk
"Kid, You're like twelve. That's a fake ID. I'll get in trouble if I let you get a tattoo here." 
"As I said, I am literally 23. I've been 23 for five months now. It is on my ID. I swear to you that my ID is real." Danny repeated for the third time that hour. 
Danny had been going to get a tattoo, his second, actually, and both times so far he had come across one issue: 
His eternally 14 year old face. 
"I told you, this can't be a real ID, you look twelve."
"I look fourteen, thank you very much."
"You realize that doesn't help, don't you?" The girl behind the counter retorted. 
No, it doesn't. 
One thing about being immortal is that you forget that you are immortal. Danny's ID has his birth date and his current photo. It's not his fault that he looks fourteen!
Actually it is. He's the one who died. 
"If I told you it's a health condition, would you believe me?"
"Not without a doctor's note. Either way, kid, even if you are somehow older than 16, you can't get a tattoo even with parental consent. We live in Illinois."
Danny hated being locked out of things due to his perceived age. Even when he was in college, and all of his classmates thought he skipped a bunch of grades to get where he was. Every time he met someone new he had to go through the same spiel. 
'I'm nineteen, yes I look young, it's a medical condition, yes I am in my second year of college' yadda yadda yadda. It had been four years and it only got worse. 
It was worse when he was going to different age restricted places, such as bars and tattoo parlors, which thought that he was a literal kid. 
"Look. I already have a tattoo, isn't that enough??"
"How do I know you didn't have a friend do that for you, huh? I remember middle school with all of the stick-n-pokes."
"Does this look like a stick-n-poke???" No, it doesn't. It was a full color three quarter arm in a neo-traditional style. It was a ghost, because he loves his irony. 
Danny kept staring at the girl behind the counter, not blinking the whole time, as she stared at him incredulously. 
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave if you keep being a problem."
"I'm not being a problem! You're the one who isn't listening as I try to explain my situation!"
"Kid, you aren't going to get a tattoo from this place." She sighed. "Look, I can call my boss and she can make the final call on it." 
"Yes! Please! Do!"
The girl in front of him walked into the back room and called a name that Danny hadn't heard since high school. "Hey! Star!"
Wait, Star? 
"What is it now, Kay?" A familiar voice rang out, in an exasperated voice. 
"Look, there's this kid at the front who says he's 23, he has an ID that looks like it checks out, but he looks twelve. Literally twelve." 
"God, Kay. Just tell him no!" A woman walked out from the back room, and looked at Kay, then made eye contact with Danny.
"Wait, FENTON? Damn, you literally haven't changed since freshman year!" The blonde girl laughed. 
"Star! It's been so long, I can't believe you recognize me!" Danny smiled. "You started a tattoo parlor?" 
"Yeah, after high school, I decided to apprentice at that one parlor down the road from school? Yeah you know the one, right?"
"I got my first tattoo there! this one," Danny pointed to his three quarter. 
"Was it James? I apprenticed under him." Star smiled at Danny. 
"Wait, Star, you know this kid?" 
"We went to high school together. I was a bit of an asshole, but we made up at the end of senior year! We'd all been through a lot together, you know what they say about trauma bringing people together!"
Danny smirked at Star. "You still in contact with Paulina?" He started, "Have you heard about her new girlfriend?"
"Oh yeah! We had a double date not too long ago, you know, me and Kwan."
"I always thought you and Kwan would get together! You guys were always pretty good with each other."
"WAIT, wait wait, so Star, he's not lying about his age??" The girl behind the counter said. 
"Yeah, he's looked that way since freshman year, some sort of medical condition, right?"
"It was a whole thing in senior year, we were comparing yearbook photos, it was so funny to see Dash freak out like that."
Danny and Star laughed at the memory. 
"So, can I get my tattoo now?" 
"Oh for sure! I'd love to get you started on that, do a quick consultation." Star led Danny to her office in the back. 
The girl at the front counter grasped her head in frustration. 
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reverie-starlight · 6 months
Note
heloo saw ur req was open!
Can i req smth like a fic? (or hcs if u prefer) of mammon x gn reader!
Basically where reader is the type that enjoys horror movie and never flinches or might even laugh at some jump scare bcuz they think it’s horrible or funny! and mammon is like ‘what?? how r they laughing??!’ while he’s shivering and clutching a pillow like his life depends on it..
YES OFC I CAN THIS IS SO FUN!!! PERFECT FOR HALLOWEEN <3
(I hope you can forgive me for taking so long to post it, my plan is to schedule this to be released ON Halloween hehe)
also I don't watch a ton of horror movies, so I'll keep it kinda general, but I hope you enjoy anyway!!!!
gn!MC, pre-established relationship with mammon, takes place in OG obey me.
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HALLOWEEN MOVIES WITH MAMMON
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okay so
at first when you say you want to do a horror movie marathon with him, he's hesitant
yeah, human world horror might seem a bit lackluster for a demon, especially ones centered around possession or summoning- they might even see some as comedies if the execution was done poorly
but possession hits a bit too close to home for mammon, and he's never been a big fan of horror in general
you see him hesitate and before he has the chance to hide his feelings and force himself to agree, you give him an out
"hey, we don't have to if you don't want to... I just thought it might be fun since Halloween is coming up and it's a fun way to get into the spirit of it all. I won't force you, my love."
and he almost takes it.
but then he thinks about how you were probably really missing out on human world holiday traditions... and he sees the bit of disappointment you're trying (and succeeding for the most part- if he didn't know you as well as he did you would have fooled him) to hide
so with a deep breath, he sucks it up and shakes his head. "no, it's okay. we can totally do that! pick a time and place and we'll binge as many as ya want."
your eyes light up and you grin. "really?! thank you so much, mammon! I promise we'll start off with some easier ones and work our way up! I'll go make a list."
he doesn't regret his decision one bit and appreciates that you're being considerate of his feelings
until he realizes that your definition of "easy" horror movies didn't exactly align with his.
the first movie on the list was not "easy" at all, and at first he thought you were pulling his leg a bit
until he saw that you looked almost bored whenever there was a jump scare
it was almost embarrassing that he was clutching the pillow as tight as he was, but you were so focused on the movie that you didn't notice.
you did make sure to periodically check on him in between scenes and during bathroom breaks, but he didn't want you to feel bad, so he put on a brave face that seemed to sway you
he somehow made it through the first movie, and the second, but by time you were on the third (still in the "easy" category, you had said), he felt mildly sick to his stomach
during the movies, you had actually laughed during a few of the scary scenes.
how were you so desensitized to the horror genre?!
he usually admired your bravery, but this was a whole other level.
this third movie had to do with a zombie apocalypse, and you teased him, saying it reminded you of that haunted house you both got trapped in forever ago.
he tried to laugh with you, but at that moment the main character came into contact with one of the zombies and he wasn't able to hold back his scream since his guard was down
suddenly he was hiding his face in your shoulder, and shivering in your arms
poor baby starts apologizing and shaking his head when you pause the movie to check on him
"mammon have you been trying not to let on you were scared this whole time?!"
he tries to deny it but you give him a stern look and he sighs, nodding, starting to shake less now that the initial shock had worn off
"I just wanted to make you happy! I know how much you must miss human world halloween traditions and I wanted to make it feel more normal for ya..."
you smile at him and cup his cheek.
"mammon, that's sweet, but I'm literally in hell watching horror movies with my demon boyfriend, it doesn't get more halloween-y than that for a human," you giggle when he pouts and you lean down to kiss it away
"and if you were scared, you could have told me! we can watch something else, it's totally fine. it's no fun if only one of us is enjoying it."
he reluctantly agrees, still feeling bad for "ruining" your horror marathon (to which you reassure him that he didn't ruin anything, and then apologize for not realizing sooner).
so for the rest of the night you watch horror parodies (which are definitely more his speed) and cuddle up together under the blankets until you both fall asleep, thankfully nightmare free.
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OKAY I really hope you enjoyed this, anon!!! and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!!!
I tried to keep it as general as possible because horror movies really aren't my thing, but if you're interested in more spooky mammon content, I have a fluffy halloween fic coming later today (it may already be out depending on when you read this) and I promise the quality is a lot better than what I've offered here :')
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drconstellation · 7 months
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More Half-and-Half-A-Miracle Thoughts
Part 3: The Third Archangel
Updated 10 Nov 2023
Part 1: Miracle Power Ranking is here Part 2: The Dark side of Aziraphale is here.
Before I try to put the full picture of the mighty miracle together, there is one other Archangel I want to talk about first, because yeah, if the "little" miracle had an Archangel x an Archangel x (ex-)Archangel in the equation, all working in synergy, that's some pretty serious potential power right there.
S2 has given us much to discuss about Crowley and his past. We know he is different in that he has an imagination. We know he is the only ethereal entity, angelic or demonic, who can stop time, which is no mean feat. I have a list of at least nine, possibly thirteen clues (it keeps growing! 21 clues And yes, I'm counting,) that he was once a
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senior Archangel, one of the seraphim, before his Fall (but not which one in particular, for sure, alas. We can debate that later, its not important here. Really. Don't @ me about it, I'm not going to engage in this post.) They (updated link to a new discussion: the idea of Crowley previously being a very powerful angel) have all been mentioned already, none of them are new. This implies there is a huge amount of potential power that Crowley could pull upon to put into the miracle performed on Gabriel. So he is our obvious ex-Archangel in the equation.
And we already have Gabriel, in the middle.
Which just leaves us with Aziraphale, and his green-paneled waistcoat...
I've led you all on thinking he's somehow connected to Hell? Or been associating too long with Crowley? No. (Or maybe, yes? To hanging around a demon, I mean.) On one hand it does show us he is not like the other angels. On the other, it tells us something else altogether.
For all that I've been recently rabbiting on about dark horses pointing mainly to Crowley and Saraqael, we have perhaps been deftly misdirected from the biggest dark horse of all: Aziraphale as our 'missing" seraphim, Archangel Raphael, incognito.
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Now, I'm certainly not the first person to suggest this at all. There have been multiple metas about it, even way back from S1. I agree with them, fwiw.
Why am I saying this now? I think this recent post about Aziraphale being present at Sodom and Gomorrah sealed it for me, especially since I had made a recent note about Raphael being the one to be assigned to escort Lot from Gomorrah. And for all that I've just discussed how dark Aziraphale can be, he is still clearly affected by what he witnessed that night, so long, long ago.
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"Oh Lord, heal this bike."
Green is also the color primarily associated with Raphael, the healer. I've seen a few other colors mentioned as well (in fact, the more you search, the more confusing it gets) but mostly the color you'll see mentioned is green. And its the color Aziraphale conceals on the back side of his waistcoat. Plus he did heal Anathema (and her velocipede) back in S1 after they collided with the Bentley.
Finally, in the Islamic tradition, Raphael is known as Israfil, and he is essential to announcing the Day of Judgement, with a trumpet constantly poised at his lips, ready to blown when God so orders.
Guess who just got taken back to Heaven to start the Second Coming?
Edit: Since I first posted this, some additional information has come along to add to this. I finally bumped into a post about the wonderful golden collars in the Job minisode (It's so, so important to put at least one or two relevant tags for meta-writers like me to help find your posts readers! Then you can shit-talk in the tags all you like.) and that lead me to a webpage on basic angel symbology and the major angels, which helped to firm up a few things I'd been wondering about. One observation is angels usually go about bare-footed, but Raphael wears sandals when on Earth, as he is chief of the guarding angels, and is the guardian of the young, and watches over pilgrims and travelers. And who was wearing golden sandals during the Job minisode?
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Doing some guarding of the young as well...
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And Raphael is assigned to the direction of the East.
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Now we have three Archangels, three seraphim, no less, side by side.
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That's a mighty shitload of potential miracle power, whichever way you want to look at it. No wonder the ol' Metatrash got a bit nervous about what happened and decided to take a personal hand in things.
If your sitting there going "'Hang on, op, hang on just a darned minute - Aziraphale hasn't even been promoted to Supreme Archangel yet and Crowley could just be a Dominion, you don't know, and Gabriel's a drooling idiot, how could he contribute to it - " Just stop. Take a breath. Go back to Part 1 where I discuss the problems with our knowledge about miracle powers and their potential. Their potential. And its frustrating that in the end we just don't have enough knowledge to be certain.
So take this as my personal head-canon. I may not have really answered why the miracle was so strong. But as I said at the start, I don't think we can. Too many factors involved, too many unknowns. Too much hidden.
Bring on S3, I say!
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neteyummydrabbles · 1 year
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heaven's incarnate [tsu'tey x reader]
pairing: tsu'tey x fem na'vi reader words: 632 warnings: slight angst, tsutey being husband material, slight self-deprecation a/n: we're taking a break from our farcical works; so we're gonna give you something you can cream to for once 🥰
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tsu'tey on mother's day!
if there was one thing i did not enjoy about motherhood, it was the constant screaming and crying that accompanied it.
i jolted awake; hearing ri'antu sob for the third time this night. i was exhausted. my breasts were heavy and my head was throbbing. i just wanted to rest. while i was preparing myself to go look after him, tsu'tey knowingly held my hand. he looked into my eyes with a sympathetic expression, teeming with concern. he gave my hand a gentle squeeze and said, "take some rest, yawntutsyip" (darling). i went back to bed, and noticed tsu'tey consoling little rian'tu in his arms. in no time, the night filled with silence.
the next morning, i woke up later than usual, and was surprised to find a bouquet of sun lilies near my bedside. then, i saw tsu'tey approach, smiling, with his hands behind his back. he was clearly hiding something. "good morning, yawne" (beloved) he said. "good morning, what are you hiding?" i asked. "oh this? i made this for you" he said, presenting a beautifully intricate necklace, adorned with rare beads and flowers that took many moons to bloom. "tsu'tey! what is the occasion? did i forget something? oh i'm so sor-" "don't be sorry, it's mother's day! you're a mother now, mama. you're so beautiful" he smiled, showcasing his pearly whites.
i had completely forgotten this strange human tradition that jake introduced us to amidst the chaos that comes with being a mother. but now it all made sense.
"irayo, yawntu" (thank you, my love) i whispered, eyes welling up with tears. tsu'tey then gently brushed my hair aside and clasped the necklace shut onto my neck." he then embraced me from behind, while i sunk into his touch. it felt like all of my exhaustion wiped away. i felt at peace. "nga yawne lu oer" (i love you) he whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on my cheek. "nga yawne lu oer, tsu'tey"
"ooh, i wanna see what it looks like on me!" i exclaimed. "yes, let us go to the pond and take a look!" suddenly, my face dropped "but rian'tu.." "do not worry, today, rian'tu's with ma and pa. he's in safe hands." i was relieved, and followed tsu'tey out our marui. we ran to our ikrans, tails flicking at each other, giggling all the way. i felt like a naive teenager running around with my first love. i felt free.
we finally reached the pond and i looked at myself in the clear, glittering water. "tsu'tey, it's gorgeous!" my gaze trailed off to the reflection of my face and i couldn't help but notice just how weary i looked. my sunken eyes, my chapped lips, the bags under my eyes, my dishevelled hair... my thoughts were interrupted by tsu'tey's familiar yet calming voice saying the words i knew i needed to hear, "no, you're gorgeous, believe me" i smiled, my eyes reflecting deep gratitude.
"but 'tey, are you sure i deserve such kind treatment on mother's day? am i even a good mother?" i asked, with a dull tone. to that, tsutey's ears perked up and he came up to me, holding my hands in his, " trust me, you are a great mother. you care for our child so tenderly; i couldn't be more grateful for you. today, i wanted to remind you of the strength and beauty that you bring into our lives" i looked into tsu'tey's eyes; they were sincere and warm; and felt my own eyes water. he wiped my tears and said, "today, you are not a mother burdened by responsibilities, you are a strong woman deserving of leisure, love and appreciation." i hugged tsutey, nuzzling my face into his neck, overwhelmed by his thoughtful words.
"oel ngati kameie, y/n" (i see you) he whispered under his breath. "oel ngati kameie," i affirmed.
thanks for reading! let us know if you liked this change of style on our blog! it's our first time so we're still a bit crusty but we hope you enjoyed <3
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lowcoree · 2 months
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My favorite shiratorizawa headcanon
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theres a Boys Volleyball Dorm room
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It started a couple years back before Ushijima and the others attended the private school.
Shiratorizawa Private Academy decided to test out a new dorm layout which ment that year the third years get to try it out.
The third year dorm rooms were made bigger then the first and second year rooms it more being layed out like an apartment holding a kitchen, bathroom/s, two bedrooms (which together could hold 4 students) and of course a open room connecting everything (livingroom)
The third years in the volleyball club at the time were lucky enough to end up in the same dorm room, it being alot more spacious then they thought they started talking about it to the team.
One day a second year on the team asked if they can sleepover at the dorm, the third years surprisingly said yes this made the other people on the team want to go aswell.
It ended up being a lot of the team in the dorm leaving the place feeling smaller but cozy, the team didnt mind and ended up doing these sleepovers a lot of the time to the point you would find some first and second years just staying in the dorm everynight, though the third years never minded.
It ended up becoming a tradition for the volleyball team to stay in this dorm even after the third years graduated it would just be passed down to the new third years this continued till present day where Ushijima and the others are third years and now 'rule' the Boys Volleyball Dorm.
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What you'll find them doing
● You can usually find Ushijima in his shared room with tendou studying but not without being yelled at by Tendou to split Shirabu and Goshiki up before a fight breaks out.
● Tendou's usually in the kitchen and living room, you'll find him in the kitchen cooking for the team since nobody else is bothered to but he doesnt mind.
● Semi's also usually found in his shared room with reon but hes not studying he usually likes to practice music and youll find Reon and Shirabu along side him most times giving him feedback on what they think
● Goshiki and Taichi are mainly in the livingroom using the TV to play games you'll also find Tendou in there aswell when hes not in the kitchen, if you were outside the dorm you would hear Goshiki screaming at losing to Taichi in mario cart for the 8th time
● Yamagata is always somewhere new, sometimes hes helping Tendou in the kitchen other times hes laughing at Goshiki's rage and times hes in Semi's room relaxing to his music practice.
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Sleeping arrangements
● Ushijima and Tendou get there room to themselves, tendou likes to take the top bunk since he likes to stare at the star stickers that were left there by other years. Though the room is just theirs it doesnt stop the others from running in to hide from an angry Shirabu.
● Semi and Reon's room doesnt have a bunk bed like ushijimas and tendous so for this factor they have a bigger room which makes Shirabu stay in there room on a matress taken from Goshiki's first year dorm.
● Toshiki, Taichi and Yamagata sleep in the living room, for shits a giggles randomly one day Yamagata brought in a tent and set it up in the living room and now sleeps in there with Taichi. Goshiki tried to sleep in there aswell but it was cramped so they played a game of uno and who ever lost would have to sleep on the couch.. Goshiki lost in the end.
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What do ya think? (=`ω´=)
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girafficparka · 3 months
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Untitled WIP I’ve been working on off and on to help with writers block for a different fic. I kinda really liked it so here ya go!
Inspiration: mass effect 3 owes me a decent shep/garrus/kaiden love triangle, and I plan to collect.
~~~
“I don’t know what you’re in the mood for tonight, Shepard. But Vega insists that we watch something called…Hard Death?” Garrus was saying as he entered her cabin. He was reviewing the title of the vid on his omni-tool. “Scratch that. Die Hard. He said it was a traditional human holiday vid, so I thought…Shepard?”
He stopped short when he looked up and caught Shepard staring at him, silently, from her couch. Humans weren’t exactly the easiest species to read - they were expressive, but often he could never figure out what each of their hundred of expressions meant - but he’d like to think he knew Shepard pretty well. She looked…stricken.
“Shepard?” he repeated, fully entering her cabin and approaching her. He went to sit next to her but she held up a hand to stop him. He paused at an awkward angle, halfway between standing leaning down to sit next to her. She stood up, standing in front of him with her hands fidgeting before her. He had never seen her look so…nervous.
“Shepard,” he repeated, for the third time, his voice soft. Confused. “Talk to me.”
“I…I have something to tell you and I don’t…want to.”
Well this was new. Shepard wasn’t afraid of anything, least of that being talking.
Thoroughly confused, he asked, “Ok?”
Shepard stared up at him and pulled her lower lip into her mouth, biting it. He’d seen her do that before, in a very different circumstance. Here it was just further proof that she was worrying. Panicking. “You are starting to freak me out a little bit here, Shepard.”
Shepard released her lip with a POP and raised a hand, running it through her fringe - er, hair. Judging by how it was sticking up she had been doing that for awhile.
“Are you hur-” he started, reaching out a hand to touch her face.
“Kaiden came by. A little bit ago.” Garrus’ hand froze. He didn’t know why, but the way she had said it…made him feel cold. He waited for her to continue, dropping his hand. Shepard’s green gaze followed it’s movement before she dropped her own hand from her hair. Her eye flicked between his for a moment before she let out a harsh breath, turning away from him to pace.
“He…said he wants to try again. After that bullshit he pulled I almost threw him out. But…he seemed…sincere. He kept bringing up Ilium and the SR1 and…uggh.”
Garrus remained silent, and frozen, where he had paused near the couch.
“I didn’t tell him yes. But I did…agree to a date. One date. We never got closure after…I died. Not really. And I wasn’t sure if we - you and I I mean - were still, I mean you’ve been back no the Normandy for a month and we haven’t even talked about…oh my god, I’m rambling. I never ramble.” Shepard stopped her pacing, turning to look at Garrus. “If you tell me not to go I won’t go.”
That pulled him out of stasis. “What? Why is that my decision?”
And it was an easy decision.
No.
Don’t go on a date with Kaiden spirits fucking forsaken Alenko. He had his shot, and he blew it. It was Garrus’ turn now. But what had he been doing with ‘his turn’? (and how pissed would Shepard be if she could read his thoughts right now). Movie nights, quips across the battle field, platonic if lingering touches as they hung out in the battery. She was right, he’d been back on board the Normandy for a month and he had nothing to show for it. He’d had a chance - a hundred chances - to bring up how he felt about her but he hadn’t. She’d always seemed so stressed, so harried. He hadn’t wanted to burden her, to pressure her. He’d let her take the lead on their reconnection. She’d been friendly, so he’d been friendly. And every two minutes there was some damn crisis - a dalatrass to bribe, a galaxy-changing medical marvel to facilitate. He’d wanted to be the calm at the center of her numerous storms. And now it sounded like she’d been waiting for him to-
“We were, you know, together recently. So I thought-”
“Seven months ago.” Garrus clarified, unsure why he was bringing up the time frame.
“Huh?”
“We were together seven months ago. And we thought we were going to die.” What was he talking about? Why was he saying this?
Why did he sound so cold?
His tone tripped Shepard up. She suddenly looked less frantic. She stopped wringing her hands, and was looking at him with an expression he could not even begin to interpret. “You’re right. We didn’t make any promises to each other. You aren’t…responsible for me, nor I you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you about this. I guess I just…wanted to make sure you and I are…good. If I do this - the date with Kaiden, I mean.”
Garrus needed to swing by the medbay - there was a pain in his gut that had to be from something physical - a bullet wound his medi-gel had somehow missed?
Tell her to not go out with him. Fucking idiot, tell her!
“We are good Shep. You go on that date - or not! Whatever…whatever you want. We are good.” Shep? Where the hell had that come from. “If that’s all, I got to go - guns to calibrate, you know-” Garrus began making his way back through the door. He paused at the doorway just as Shepard called.
“What were you…saying about a movie?”
“Uh, oh that? Nothing. I’ll tell you later. See you in the morning, Shepard.” And before he could say something embarrassing, or pitiful, he left.
As he made his way to the elevator he stumbled. He felt off-balance - like the artificial gravity had abruptly been turned off. What had just happened? What the hell had just happened? He felt a sick, heavy feeling rolling along his veins, originating from somewhere deep in his gut. As the doors slid open on the crew deck, Garrus had had the chance to examine the sensation coursing through his body, finally setting in his chest like a heavy weight.
Jealousy.
~~~fin, for now~~~
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pebblysand · 8 months
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Hi can you do me a prompt? Cause I LOVE your writing! 💗
Ginny comes home from the 2014 quidditch world cup-reporting after a long long time away from harry and kids!
did it take me two and a half years to fill this prompt? yes. as evidence that no one should ever lose hope.
.
spring rolls, pizzas and curries
.
Tonight, after she gets home - after a smiling kiss hoisted up to the corner of his mouth, tippy toes and tight hugs to the kids - after a warm shower and a change of clothes, they'll order in.
It's the end of summer, that year. Leaves wilting in the trees; the wireless runs repetitive adverts for Hallowe'en decorations and this morning, when he headed into work, Harry noticed an irreversible sort of chill in the air; when Ginny comes down later, her hair wet over her shoulders, she'll be wearing a jumper. Lily and Al will soon hound her with questions, about the World Cup and about Namibia or about something else, and James will hurry into the kitchen too, just as she will pour herself a large glass of wine. He will be loud and lanky and almost-teenage. 'Where's food?' he'll ask, then.
And: 'Well, hello, Ronald,' she will laugh. Say.
Chinese, Indian or Italian - the kids will have their pick. It's a long-standing tradition in the Potter household since the dreadful winter of '09, when James had the flu and Lily was sniffling and Harry spent five days battling family germs on his own until Ginny came back from a work trip to save them all. He tiredly sunk into the couch next to her and: 'You should have stayed there,' he observed. Sighed like a headache. 'You're gonna catch it too.'
She shrugged. Smiled. Laid her head on his shoulder. He didn't have the heart to push her away. 'Let's order in, yeah?'
Harry will phone in. Everybody's favourites memorised like the faded lines at the back of his hand. There will be noise - James arguing with Al over the TV remote, Lily talking to herself, playing with her animal figurines and toy soldiers. She's built a whole ranch with Playmobils in her bedroom: fake horses and fake cowboys and fake fences - her magic makes it all move of its own accord - it's a bit of a nightmare.
The kind of nightmare Harry doesn't mind having.
They'll eat pizza on the couch or nems from clear plastic boxes scattered across the kitchen table, and the kids will fill Ginny in on everything she missed. Lily won't stop chatting and 'Mum' this and 'Mum' that, and James will say: 'Oh, will you shut up for once?' One of them - or both of them - will automatically throw back: 'James, don't talk to your sister like that.'
There will be second servings, thirds. Harry will smile and laugh, and feel like a weight lifted off his chest the moment she opened the front door just as easily as he will later clear the plates, with a simple wave of his wand. Ginny will go up to unpack, and he'll try to convince the kids to go to bed - with moderate success. James will try to convince him he needs a new broom, with no chance of success. Al will wandlessly tie his brother's shoelaces together before quietly retreating to his bedroom, a loud tumble ensuing with his victim falling flat on his face at the top of the staircase. He will deny having done any magic the next morning.
'Prove it,' he'll say.
Harry will want to smile (like a headache, too).
And, you know, he wonders - sure - but he's not jealous. Being jealous of his own kids would be fucking weird and, anyway, he's over it, now. He's even stopped being bitter. Ginny hasn't stopped being angry but there's something almost comforting about it, about her anger and her capacity for unrelenting outrage when they sent Petunia a card last Christmas and she wrote back: Please, take me off your mailing list.
'Cunt,' she said.
He winced or cringed, he's not sure. 'Yup.'
He's not jealous - not bitter - but he does wonder. He wonders and thinks of James. So, so tiny, in Ginny's belly. The first time he felt a kick against the tips of his fingers and held his breath - like, forever. And Ginny, who asked why he couldn't sleep, that night, watched him puff cigarette smoke out the window. 'I'm nervous,' he said.
'I'm the one giving birth,' she laughed.
'What kind of father do you think I'll be?'
He thinks of James and he thinks of Tom, sometimes. His palm against the skin of her stomach was sweaty - like warm, summer nights.
And, he looks at the kids and he wonders. What it would have been like. Growing up like that.
With them, you know?
He thinks of James again. Of James and of Albus and of Lily. He wonders if they know. That he's happy. That they're happy. That he's not jealous or bitter or angry. And, that love tastes like food. Like strawberries on Ginny's lips, and spring rolls, and pizzas and curries.
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