#but happy early valentine's day to Them <3

[zeeph-containment-zone]

he getted flowers for his birfday c:

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite 07

Happy Valentines day!!!!!! To celebrate this day of love here is an early chapter!!! Love you guys <3

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter Warnings: possessive! Chan, kissing, sexual references, suggestive, misogyny, sexist ideals, crying (as usual), cursing, angst, fluff. (I am so bad with warnings please let me know what I missed.)

WC: 4k

MDNI 18+

Five days.

It took five whole days before your heat finally ended. Towards the end you had started to feel like it really was going to go on forever. For you and Chan it was an endless cycle of fucking, knotting, snacking and then starting all over again. You had almost forgotten what it was like to have a clear head, one where it's not being constantly overcome with the fogginess of your heat. 

Your whole body was sore when you woke up on that final day. It had only been about 3 hours since you last came, the exhaustion causing you to pass out right after. Sore, tired, and thirsty. Those were the top things on your mind. Well, that and Chan. He had you wrapped up tightly in his arms while he snored next to you. The… activities must have taken its toll on him as well. 

Now that you had a moment of clarity to yourself you couldn’t help but reflect on the last week.  You felt humiliated. Never in your entire life had you ever acted like that. Then again, never in your life had you ever been that needy. That wanting. That horny. 

It was a hard pill to swallow, that that's the way you had lost your virginity. When you imagined your first time there were always sweet kisses, lingering touches, maybe soft music in the background. Not the hard pounding it had been, the way you had begged it to be. You couldn't fault Chan for that. It was all on you. You know he did what he had too for you. You would apologize for that later. 

You would have to apologize to the whole pack. Especially Jisung and Jeongin. Your heart clenched when you thought of the turmoil you put them both through. The amount that you cared for those boys is staggering to say the least. Really it was how much you cared for this pack. You had just met them but it felt like it's been a lifetime. And the thought of you doing anything to upset them… You buried your face in your hands to keep from waking Chan with your emotions. 

Chan. 

That's right. If there was one good thing to come out of this, it's that Chan said he loved you. Your alpha said he loved you. He had exclaimed it over and over again these past few days, everytime he came inside of you. You were too out of it each time to really register his words then. And he had claimed you. Marked your body for all to see. For all to know you belonged to him. That made you giddy, replacing the sad thoughts from before. You really were having a whirlwind of emotions. 

As comfy as laying here with him was, you desperately needed to pee. As gently as possible you shimmied your body out from his hold. You knew he needed his rest. Once your feet hit the floor beneath, your legs almost collapsed under you, they were aching from all the different positions Chan had you in. Remembering it brought a red flush to your cheeks. You steadied yourself and made your way to his adjoining bathroom. 

When you exited you found Chan sitting up in his bed, dark hair messy and eyes tired. When he saw you come through the door he gave you a sleepy smile and opened his arms for you to join him once more. You crawled in next to him with zero hesitation. 

“Mm there's my sweet baby. I was beginning to think you skipped out on me.” He mumbled into your hair, using his hand to caress down your arm. 

You let out a giggle at his words, “Never. Alpha.” 

Now that you were in your right mind, you could take in what Chans’ room looked like. His sheets were a dark maroon color, and his curtains were of the same color. He had small strip lights behind his headboard and some wrapping around the ceiling. There was a large sound system in the corner along with a desk and a pc. 

Chan pressed a peck against your head. “What time is it?” 

You peered at the alarm clock next to the bed. “7:45. Still really early.” He hummed in acknowledgment and curled himself around you tighter. 

“Let's nap a little longer before we tell the guys to come back. I’m sure once they arrive we’ll have our hands full again.” You nodded in agreement. 

“Chan. One thing before we fall back asleep.” He hummed for you to continue. 

“I love you too.” 

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

It was around 10:30 when Minho had gotten a call from Chan -the first time they had heard from him in days- that the pack could return home. There was an urgency from most of the pack to get home, to their own beds and to you. 

Jeongin seemed to be the only one dragging his feet. He was terrified to face you and Chan, terrified that Chan would want to kick his ass for his behavior, or worse, want to kick him out of the pack completely. The young alpha had been assured many times that nothing of the sort would happen: that he had done no wrong, but Jeongin refused to listen to reason. It had been eating him up inside. 

After their argument Seungmin and Minho had apologized to each other. They had a serious conversation with Felix being the mediator and the youngest beta was able to understand where the elder was coming from and vice versa. Minho definitely needed to chat about it with Chan. 

Everyone else was just ready to be home. They loaded up the cars quickly and began the short drive there. 

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

After a nap it was time to get the house ready for the packs arrival. You started by opening all of the windows to air out the place, and rid it of the smell of sex that was lingering behind. Chan started the laundry while you did the windows, the sheets and bedding stained with your combined essence. Then it was shower time.

 Chan took his time washing every inch of your body, paying special attention to the area between your legs. He was gentle with you. He knew you deserved it after he had been so rough with you during your heat. The alpha left sweet kisses on your bruised skin where his fingerprints remained, giving each one their own peck. He made sure to remind you after each one how sorry he was and that he loved you. 

If you weren’t so tender you would ask him to  take you right there in the shower. Instead you tell him shyly that you kind of like the bruises he left on you. That it is a possessive reminder. 

‘Fuck she really is perfect’ He believed it wholeheartedly. 

Once you were both clean and refreshed Chan gave you one of his tee shirts and a pair of his boxers to wear. He didn’t feel bad about ruining your clothes from before, if anything it brought him joy to rip them to shreds. They were just a reminder of the life you left behind, no need for that when all you need is the pack. Is Chan. 

His shirt fell to your knees, completely covering your thighs giving the illusion that you had no bottoms on at all. You hadn’t noticed that little detail but Chan had. He gave your butt a swift patt as you passed him on your way to the kitchen. The alpha had merely stated the guys would probably be hungry upon their arrival and you immediately sprung into action preparing an assortment of breakfast foods. When Chan offered to help you, you had shooed him out stating it was the least you could do for everyone. 

This was the kind of woman Chan had always wanted. Submissive, subservient, and oh so sweet. You had already proved yourself to be all of those things. He felt like the luckiest man alive to have found his perfect woman. To have his perfect woman wander onto his property. 

When the rest of the pack arrived home they were hit by the appetizing aroma of bacon and baked goods. God it was good to be home. Changbin was the first one out of the car, flinging his door open and sprinting inside. Hyunjin and Seungmin laughed at the alphas enthusiasm as they exited the same car. The second car pulled up a moment later. 

Changbin headed straight for where he assumed you would be- the kitchen making all these delicious smells. He was correct and was greeted by the sight in just a t- shirt standing over the stove while you flipped pancakes. He let out a low groan at the sight, causing you to notice him with a bright smile. He charged you and engulfed you in his arms. “Hello Baby!” 

“Welcome home, Binnie.” You laughed when he lifted you into the air and spun you around. 

Chan let out a loud cackle, watching Changbin, happy the boys were home. 

Changbin set you down right as the other boys came to stand in the entryway of the kitchen. 

Your cheeks were bright red and you cast your eyes down as you gripped the spatula. Now that they were all here you felt very insecure. 

“Hi guys. I'm so happy you’re home.” You smiled shyly and bit your lip. Your actions made them want to melt into a giant puddle right there. 

Jisung was the next to attack you with a hug, latching himself onto your body with a quiet sob. 

“What's wrong Ji?” you questioned with worry. ‘Oh no what did I do?’ You wondered anxiously. 

“J-just so happy you’re ok.” He let out in a wail. “I was so w-worried about you.” Your heart clenched at his words. You dropped the spatula on the counter and fully embraced him now. The tears are now beginning to form in your own eyes. 

“I am alright, I have also been worried about you! I am so sorry for what I did to you.” You looked behind Jisung to the other guys, “For what I did to all of you and the stress it must have caused. Then causing you all to have to leave your home.. It's all my fault and I am so sorry.” The tears were flowing freely. Chan felt his heart break at your words. All of the pack did. 

Jisung began peppering your cheeks with light kisses as Felix and Hyunjin swarmed you as well, it now being a beta cuddle pile in the kitchen. 

“Y/n?” A timid voice called for you, you squeezed your way out of the beta sandwich to face Jeongin looking bashful. “I wanted to apologize to you” He looked at Chan “To both of you- for how I acted. I know it wasn’t cool and I can promise it won't happen again.” 

You wiped your tears, “It’s my fault Jeongin. If I had been able to sense my heat this all could have been avoided.” 

“If I had been able to control myse-” The young alpha was cut off by Chan bear hugging him. Jeongin returned the hug twice as hard, shocked at his alpha. 

Chan pulled away with a clap to Jeongins back, “If you really hadn't been able to control yourself you would have taken her right there on the floor. This would have been a very different conversation. I’m proud of you Innie.” Chan turned to smile at everyone. “I am grateful and proud of all of my boys. Nobody here has to apologize to me.”

It was at that moment you understood why Chan was head Alpha. He was a natural leader, and he respected his pack just as much as they respected him. You could see it in the way the guys looked at him. You were definitely one lucky girl to have found yourself in this pack. 

Chan turned to you next “And you,” He pointed right at you. “You need to stop apologizing. None of this is anyone's fault. It’s just nature, Baby. Plus because of your heat now every single person will know whose pack you belong in.” He gestured to the bite mark on your neck with a smirk. 

At the mention of the mark you went to touch it but were stopped as Seungmin came up and tilted your head to the side to get a good look at it. Seems like these guys have no problems manhandling you now that you're mated to their Alpha. 

Seungmin traced his finger over the red flesh, feeling the divots in your skin 

He let out a low whistle “Damn Hyung, you really got deep in there huh?” 

Felix snickers “In more ways than one.” Chan just flicks Felix on the forehead while everyone else laughs. 

Minho had been watching this entire exchange, taking in everything that was said and how everyone acted together. It felt familiar, like it had always been like this. He could see how happy everyone was together, and it made him incredibly guilty for the way he's been acting and speaking about you. He knew he needed to talk to Chan today, needed to get all his thoughts off his chest to his alpha. To apologize man to man. He came up to you, and stopped right in front of you before leaning down and giving you a very soft tussle to your hair. 

“Good to be home.” He smiled at you, Felix giving him a thumbs up.  

Hyunjin was the next to speak, “Does anyone else smell burning?” 

You gasped.

“MY PANCAKES!”

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

After a group breakfast full of jokes made by the guys and some light pouting from you (still upset about your pancakes), it was unanimously decided to have a relaxing day, watching movies and napping. Seungmin had pointed out how tired you and Chan looked, snickering about why you both were so exhausted. All you did was blush and stick your tongue out at him, causing everyone to laugh at how cute you were. Seungmin teased you, “What? Gonna throw another can at me?” 

In all honesty, every member couldn’t take their eyes off of the bite left on your neck. It was a symbol that you were claimed now- claimed by their alpha, for their pack. It almost felt like an invite. An invite for them to have you in the ways they've been craving. Your purity had already been taken by their leader, now it felt ok for them to shoot their shots with you; respectfully of course. 

You all sat in various places around the living room (You made it a point to not sit next to Seungmin) You were in between Jisung and Felix on the love seat, the betas cuddling you and every so often laying small pecks to your skin. It brought a red flush to your skin every single time and they loved it. 

Changbin had suggested a romcom, something you've all seen so if anyone falls asleep no one would be missing anything. It was settled on ‘the princess bride’, one of your favorites. 

Chan noticed about half way through that you had fallen asleep leaning on Felix with Jisung sleeping leaning on you. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen so he sneakily pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to the pack group chat. 

Minho was one of the only ones still awake and when he noticed Chan was as well he figured it was now or never. He shot Chan a quick text asking if they could talk. Once he read it Chan nodded at Minho and quietly lifted himself from his spot on the recliner, Min doing the same from his spot from the floor where he was wedged between Jeongin and Hyunjin. 

Min followed Chan up the stairs up to the third floor and into Chan's office. The beta had been in there many times before, but this time instead of the normal comfort he usually felt it now felt like a confessional. That he was there to be damned for his sins and accept divine punishment. Though, honestly that's exactly what was happening. 

Chan leaned against his desk casually as Minho closed the door behind him. The second it was closed the beta wasted no time in launching into his apologies. 

“You have probably noticed I've seemed less than enthused lately, with the arrival of Y/n.”

Chan nodded, “Yeah I was waiting for you to come to me about it.” 

“I guess the best way I can phrase it is I've been feeling overprotective and insecure. It’s just been the eight of us for so long, and literally out of nowhere there's another person coming in. Someone we don’t know or know exactly where she came from. And especially a stranger with baggage like she has with her family and another pack.” He paused like he was trying to find the right words. 

“If I'm speaking honestly, when you brought her home into our pack without even mentioning it to me first, it kinda hurt my feelings. I am one of the other elders in the pack, and I thought I was like your second in command. It didn’t feel right not even getting a heads up. Don’t get me wrong- I am so happy you have found your mate. I know you’ve waited for her for a long time. And all the other guys seem to love her too. It was just a hard pill to swallow for me.” 

Minho waited for Chan to scold him for his thoughts, but it never came. Instead, to his surprise Chan said “I understand, Min. It was really sudden. I honestly couldn’t believe I would let someone in so quickly either. And you’re right, you are my second. The least I could have done is run it by you. I am sorry Min.” 

The beta rubbed his eyes and sniffled, keeping his tears at bay. He wasn’t one to cry, usually he's the one comforting the softer members when they cry. He especially didn't cry in front of his leader. 

The alpha approached the younger and wrapped him in a tight hug. They hadn’t had a hug like this in a while, it was comforting to both of them. Minho was the first to pull away, Chan giving him a pat on his back 

“Now that you’re being honest with me, what do you think about her now? Has anything changed for you or do we need to work on the trust?” Chan inquired genuinely curious. 

Min took a second before answering, “ I think I'm coming around to her. In my heart I know she has no malice, it is just hard to trust an outsider. But honestly Chan, I think another part of why I've been having trouble accepting her is that-” He paused, unsure if he should say the next part. Fuck it, “ that theres a part of me that.. craves her. And I feel guilty about it since she is your mate.” 

At his words Chan gave him a wicked smile, like he had been waiting for that answer. “Oh Minho. That is not a reason to feel guilty, at least not in this pack. I may be the jealous type, but the thought of sharing her with you guys.. Excites me. Makes me feel like I’m providing for my pack to be frank.” 

“Well I know the other guys are feeling the same way, maybe minus the guilt.” Minho gave a light shrug. 

The alpha kissed his teeth, “I can tell. They’ve been all over her since you got home. I’m going to have another discussion with Y/n about her role as pack omega, but I don't think she’s going to have a problem with it. She seems very taken with everyone. The hardest part for her will probably be accepting that it's ok for her to want them. To want you..” He could see the beta visible gulp at the thought. “ I also think all of us men have to talk about what is ok with her and what is not. And I need to get her to a doctor before any of you take her that way. Those suppressants really fucked with her body.” 

“Do you think that’s why her heat came on so suddenly like that?” Minho questioned. 

Chan nodded, “ Yeah she said she had been on them since she was a teenager, and hadn’t had a heat since she started taking them.” his eyes hardened, “Her pathetic father didn’t know how else to protect his daughter so he resorted to poisoning her.” The alpha practically growled at the last part. 

Minho felt more understanding of why it all happened like it did. Now he really felt bad for his past thoughts. “That’s… really terrible. Hopefully the doctor in town will know how to treat an omega.” 

Chan shrugged, “ I'll make an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I have to take her to the police station tomorrow anyway, to clean up the missing persons file.” 

Minho suddenly remembered you don't have any clothes to wear. He wanted to do something nice for you. He asked Chan if he could run into town real quick and the alpha smirked having caught on to the betas idea.

With one more friendly pat on the back, Minho made his way out grabbing his keys and left the home. 

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

It had been about noon when you fell asleep on the couch, and when you awoke it was late evening, the orange beams of the setting sun lighting the living room in a soft glow. Felix was awake underneath you, scrolling through his phone quietly so as not to disturb you or Jisung who was still slumbering on top of you.

When the blond felt you stirring he gave you a delicate smile, whispering “ Hi baby.” His freckles were very pronounced with the evening sun, illuminating them like intricate star patterns. If you hadn’t known better, you would think you were still dreaming. 

In your awe of him you whispered back “You’re so pretty Lix.” 

He set his phone down as the red rushed to his cheeks, he leaned in close so you couldn't see his blush. “ You wanna know a secret, Baby?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I think you’re prettier.” He left a delicate kiss on your cheek. 

A drowsy voice was heard from atop you.

“Am I pretty too, Baby?” 

You peered over to the other boy with a giggle, looking right into his barely open eyes. “Of course you are Ji. One the prettiest boys I’ve ever seen.” 

It was true. You had never seen anyone who looked like Jisung. His bright boba colored eyes, his rounded chipmunk cheeks, and his pouty lips were uniquely Jisung. You couldn't help but imagine those lips of his on your own, and also somewhere else. He was very alluring to you. 

He hummed in satisfaction, nuzzling his face into your side. He mumbled a muffled “and you’re the most beautiful I’ve seen.” 

Before you could bashfully retort you were attacked by Hyunjin who threw himself on top of the three of you. “Hey finally you're up!” 

“Ahhhh Jinnie!” Felix groaned at the bottom of the pile. 

Hyunjin just cackled at the younger boy's plight. He rolled off of jisung and crouched down in front of you all. 

“Been waiting for you to wake up.” He had a cheeky smile like he was excited then made eye contact with you and the smile grew even bigger. “There's a surprise for you upstairs.” 

“For me?” you questioned in confusion. 

“Mmhmm” He nodded enthusiastically, then rose on his feet and began peeling Jisung off of you. The younger beta whined in protest but doing nothing to stop it from happening. 

Felix lets you stretch for a moment before helping you to your feet. Your legs still felt weak and Hyunjin must have noticed because he crouched down in front of you for you to climb on his back. 

“Hyunjin.You can't carry me up two flights of stairs.” 

He scoffed, looking offended. “Try me.”

A/N: To everyone worries about Minho accepting her, I hope this quells your apatite for the fluff <3 I really enjoyed writing this chapter, idk why but I hope yall enjoy it as much as I did.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

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[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Summary: After you attend Harris's birthday party, Eddie's forced to confront some big feelings, and a Valentine's date has the two of you navigating a much different type of big feeling.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), fingering, protected p in v, slight breeding kink, very fluffy smut, brief mention of parental abandonment

WC: 8.6k

Chapter 12/20

Eddie's card credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers Mixtape credit to @lofaewrites Divider credit to @saradika

The mingled scents of wood polisher, stale cigarette smoke, and old frying oil invade your nostrils the second you step into Hawkins Lanes. Bowling balls thud as they make contact with the fiberglass lanes, subsequently crashing into the waiting pins. You offer a smile at the exasperated teenager clearly nursing a hangover, holding back a dry heave as he sprays a pair of red and blue shoes with a can of deodorizer that, given the undertones of pungent sweat permeating the air, is likely well past expired.

“I’m here for Harris Munson’s birthday party?” It comes out like a question rather than a definitive statement, and you hold up the gift bag in your hand like it’s some kind of evidence.

The teenager jerks a thumb towards the back left of the building, not bothering to look up. “Party room’s down there,” he mumbles, and you thank him as you walk along the pink and purple carpet.

You’ve arrived a little early, hoping to steal a few moments with Eddie before the chaos of the day begins. Wayne is the only one in the small room, stretching to hang up a sign proudly declaring ‘Happy Birthday,’ each letter a different color of the rainbow. He grins when he sees you approaching, and you hold one end of the sign in place as he adheres it to the door frame with Scotch tape.

“Good to see y’again, darlin’.” Wayne greets you with a grin, taping your side of the banner. 

You put your arm down and return his smile. “You, too!” you chirp, glancing around the room. “Where can I put Harris’s present?”

The older man points to an empty table off to the side. “Right over there should be good,” he figures aloud. “Ed just took Harris to the little boys’ room, but they’ll letcha know otherwise.”

You nod, gently placing the bright yellow bag atop a table covered with a Hot Wheels-themed cloth. Amusement dances on your lips at the realization that Eddie must have splurged on decorations; it’s far better quality than one from the local 99-cent store. 

“Ms. Sweetheart! You’re at my birthday party!” Harris’s enthusiastic voice captures your attention, and you spin around just as he’s launching himself into your arms. A tiny human rocketship. 

“I am!” You laugh, motioning towards the gift table, “and I left your present over there.” 

Harris’s face lights up and he starts towards it, arms outstretched and ready to tear through the tissue paper, but the sound of his dad clearing his throat stops him in his tracks. 

“Remember,” Eddie says, keeping his tone calm but firm, “we’re gonna open everything once all your friends are here, after we eat cake.”

Harris juts out his lower lip in a pout. “But Daddy,” he protests, “I wanna open it now!” He stomps his foot indignantly, and you have to suppress a laugh at how silly it looks with the clown-esque bowling shoe on. 

“Harris, can you wait until you open the ones from your friends?” You phrase it like a favor, hoping to appeal to him that way. “I’m really excited about what I got you and I want them to see you open it, too.” Of course, you couldn’t care less about what a bunch of random four- and five-year-olds think about your gift, but you had to think quickly before the whine escalated to a tantrum. 

He releases a sigh of exasperation but ultimately concedes. “Okay, I guess I can wait.”

Eddie mouths thank you and winks as the four of you walk out to the lanes to wait for Harris’s friends. You feel a hand slip into yours, too small to be Eddie’s, and beam when Harris looks up at you with pure joy.

“Daddy! Grampa Wayne! I’m holding Ms. Sweetheart’s hand!” he exclaims, baby teeth on full display

Eddie ruffles Harris's hair. “I’m jealous.” If prompted, he’ll claim that he’s envious that his son chose to hold your hand instead of his. But you and him–and Wayne, let’s be real–know the real meaning behind his statement.

As Harris’s friends arrive and the birthday boy greets each of them with a hug, you and Eddie spring into action and line them up to get fitted for shoes. There are five kids, three boys and two girls, and though you recognize them as Ms. Marion’s students, you don’t know any of them by name. The bowling shoe laces are flimsy, and a few of them struggle with the fine motor skills necessary to tie them.

“Can I help you with that?” you ask one boy, who nods and extends his leg towards you. You crouch down and rest his foot on your knee as you double-knot the laces. When you finish, you look up to see that the rest of the kids have formed a line for your shoe-tying expertise.

Eddie returns from dropping off the guests’ gifts in the party room, laughing when he stumbles upon the queue of children. “You don’t have to do all that, Sweetheart,” he tells you, using his hands to assess the weight of different bowling balls before distributing them to the kids.

You shrug as you finish tying the last shoes. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie has reserved two lanes for the party, and before anyone can figure out who will be bowling where, Harris is tugging on his Black Sabbath t-shirt.

“We wanna play in teams,” he reports matter-of-factly. You’re not sure who ‘we’ refers to, since you didn’t see him corroborating with any of his friends, but you don’t question it aloud. “Team Harris and Team Daddy.”

Eddie gasps with feigned offense, bringing his palm to his heart. “What? You don’t want me on your team?”

“Nope.” Harris shakes his head, curls swaying back and forth. “I want Ms. Sweetheart on my team.” He pauses as he glances around the group, eyes brightening when his gaze lands on the eldest Munson. “You can have Grampa Wayne.”

“Old man’s probably gonna break a hip.” Eddie grumbles teasingly, picking up a red marbled bowling ball and hoisting it up to his chest.

Wayne scratches the top of his head. “And yet I can still kick your ass.” He keeps his voice low so that little ears can’t hear, but you and Eddie can, and you tuck your lips into your mouth so none of the kids catch on.

Harris is up first, squatting down and using two hands to roll the ball down the lane. His method proves to be somewhat effective when he knocks down a few pins, and the scoreboard screen flashes a giant number 5. 

“That’s how many years I am!” Harris proudly announces, skipping back to where the rest of his team is standing. He cocks his head at the ball return’s open mouth for the neon green ball that Eddie had handed him earlier, eagerly scooping it up when he spots it. Assuming the same stance, he once again rolls the ball and successfully topples two more pins.

Eddie raises his brows incredulously. “Hmm, let me try that strategy.”

“I don’t think there’s enough pins for all of your years,” you quip, and Eddie sticks out his tongue in your direction before mimicking Harris’s approach, knees aligned with his toes. He draws the ball back between his legs and releases it a few inches ahead of him, smirking as it cascades down the lane.

His cockiness is apparently earned, since he gets a strike. He attempts a victory moonwalk, clumsily dragging one foot behind the other in a manner that would make Michael Jackson regret ever making the move popular. The heel of his shoe catches on the floor and he stumbles backwards, landing on his ass.

The kids burst out into peals of laughter, and you and Wayne join in once it is evident that Eddie’s not hurt, only embarrassed. You stoop down, clutching your ball between your palms as you grin. “That’s what you get for gloating,” you whisper in his ear, a joking lilt in your voice. “Try setting a good example for the kids next time.”

Unbeknownst to you, one of the kids, Kelly, strikes up a conversation with Harris while you’re up to bowl. “Is that your mommy?” she asks him, strawberry blonde pigtails softly swishing as she looks over at you.

“No, but she’s gonna be my mommy soon!” Harris replies happily. “She and my daddy are gonna fall in love and then she’ll be my mommy.” His voice lowers as concern mars his words. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? Because it’s my birthday cake wish and I need it to come true.”

Kelly nods, taking this obligation seriously, and she averts her gaze when she spots you walking back to the ball return. Since you’d only knocked down eight pins, you take another turn, slipping your thumb, middle, and ring fingers into the holes, frowning when you don’t get the spare you’d hoped for. 

Harris’s chipperness brings a smile back to your face. “Ms. Sweetheart, can you teach me how to bowl like a grown-up?” He blinks a few times, hammering in his naturally docile nature.

“Of course!”

When it’s Harris’s turn again, Eddie watches you go up with him. It’s noisy, but he zeros in on your sweet tone among the clattering of bowling pins and cacophonous conversations.

“See, you put your middle finger and ring finger here, and your thumb here,” you’re gently explaining. “And then you lift the ball back just a bit, bring it forward, and let it go.” You go through all of the motions without actually letting go of the ball, Harris’s eyes glued to your every move. “You try.”

Harris follows your instructions, pink tongue poking from his mouth in sheer concentration, and knocks down a single pin. Eddie braces himself for his disappointment, maybe even escalation to a tantrum, so he’s pleased when his son spins back with a wide, toothy smile.

“I did it! I knocked it down!”

“You’re amazing! I’m so proud of you, Harris.” Eddie’s posture softens as Harris runs into your arms and gives you a giant hug, tiny fingers digging into your biceps as he squishes the side of his face just below your collarbones. When he does this, Eddie notices that Harris’s cheeks have lost some of their chubbiness; his son’s baby-like features subtly disappearing to make way for attributes of the older child he’s growing into. It brings a slight pang to his heart, and he swallows the emotion and focuses instead on the bonding moment between you and the not-so-little boy.

There’s a shared love; more than that, there’s trust. Harris knows he can rely on you to teach him with kindness and patience, that you won’t berate him or yell at him for doing something incorrectly. You’re his Ms. Sweetheart.

Wayne takes note of the goofy smile adorning his nephew’s face, nudging him before he drops the bowling ball on his foot. “I know you’re in love with her, but she ain’t worth losing your toes over.”

Eddie’s face flushes pink, the tips of his ears burning now that he's been caught. “I’m not in love with her, Wayne.” At least, I didn’t think I was yet, but now I might be.

“Whatever you say,” Wayne mutters under his breath, taking careful steps towards the lane. “You, uh, might wanna wipe the drool from your chin before you take your turn, though.”

Team Harris ultimately wins, mostly because Wayne throws the game so the birthday boy can have a victorious moment. You, Eddie, and Wayne quickly corral the kids into the party room, seating them at a large rectangular table for cake and presents before anyone can take offense over the game results. The three of you breathe silent sighs of relief when you easily shift their focus to the next activity.

Eddie pulls his lighter from his back pocket, flicking it on and lighting the five thin blue and white striped candles unevenly jabbed through the chocolate frosted homemade cake. He picks up the plate, supporting it from the bottom as he leads the group in a hilariously off-key rendition of Happy Birthday.

Harris squeezes his eyes shut before blowing out the flames with gusto, a big grin on his face when he opens them again.

Feeling a hand clap on his shoulder, Eddie swivels his body to see his uncle armed with a disposable Kodak camera. “Let me get a picture of you and the birthday boy,” Wayne insists, peering through the little viewfinder and snapping a photo. Eddie’s crouched down, right arm slung over Harris’s shoulders. Both of them wear matching smiles; the only difference is that Harris is still sporting his baby teeth. 

“Now Ms. Sweetheart!” the little Munson declares. Eddie goes to leave, pressing his palms to his knees and standing up, but Harris grabs his wrist and pulls him back. “No, Daddy. You and me and Ms. Sweetheart together!”

You shuffle over to stand on Harris’s other side. When you place your hand on his upper back, Eddie’s slides over yours, the two of you and Harris chiming “cheese!” in enthusiastic unison. 

Blinking from the brightness of the flash, you extend your arm and make a ‘gimme’ motion with your hand. “Let me get one of the three of you,” you say to Wayne, who begrudgingly places the camera in your outstretched palm. 

Eddie pulls him in closer. “Alright, Munson men. Flex those muscles!” You giggle as the three of them bend their arms to show off whatever biceps they have. 

“Ms. Sweetheart, who’s got the biggest muscles?” Harris asks as you lower the camera. 

You scrunch up your nose as though seriously contemplating the question. “Um, me, obviously!” You smack your own bicep, sending Harris into hysterics.

“That’s so silly!” he cackles, glancing up at Eddie. “Daddy, isn’t Ms. Sweetheart so silly?”

You expect him to agree with his son, but he just puts his hands on his shoulders and gives a quick squeeze as he says, “Nah, she’s the strongest person I know.” Your stomach flip-flops when he peers at you through his impossibly long lashes. He picks up the plate and brings it over to the smaller, empty table. “Let’s cut this cake before the kids start revolting.”

The two of you use plastic knives and forks to divide the cake into slivers and toss them onto paper plates. Once all of the kids have their slices, Eddie licks the excess frosting from his fingers and hands you a plate. 

“Havin’ fun?” He carefully wraps the question in a joking tone, but you can tell that he’s genuinely curious about whether you’re enjoying yourself. 

You spear a piece of your slice with the plastic fork. “I am, actually.” The chocolate melts in your mouth, and your tongue glides over your lips to catch any crumbs. “I haven’t been bowling since I was a kid.”

“And it shows,” he teases, wincing when you flick his cheek. “Hey, now—violence is never the answer. What values are you instilling in these impressionable young minds?”

Harris pops up from his seat, waving an empty plate. Whatever cake bits were left on it have tumbled to the floor. “Daddy, I’m done! Can I open my presents now?”

“Jesus, did you inhale that thing?” Eddie wonders aloud, but ultimately agrees. He grabs a bunch of thin napkins and wipes Harris’s hands and face, laughing when the boy sputters as the paper presses against his lips. “Har Bear, you don’t wanna get your presents all messy.”

Once he’s all cleaned up, Harris grabs each of the gifts and brings them to his seat at the head of the table. He tears through brightly colored wrapping paper at lightning speed. Eddie tries to keep track of who gave what as his son unveils a Hot Wheels track from Charlie and his brother Brendan, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure from Kelly, a G.I. Joe from Emma, and—regrettably—a tub of Gak from Zachary. He makes a mental note to pick up a harmonica or a kazoo or something else noisy when that kid’s birthday rolls around. 

The last gift left is from you, and you twiddle your thumbs as you await Harris’s reaction. Should I have gotten him a toy?

“It’s a stencil kit,” you feel the need to explain, as though you wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment of him asking what it is. “So you can trace shapes for your art. It’s got all different ones: food, animals, holidays…” You clamp your mouth shut, willing yourself to stop talking. 

Your panic is short-lived; Harris’s brown eyes light up as he runs to you and wraps his arms around your legs in another giant hug. “I’m gonna draw you so much things!” he promises, gazing up at you excitedly. 

“I can’t wait to see what you make me.” A drawing from Harris holds a deeper meaning than you ever realized. It’s more than a simple display of creativity; it’s a symbol of love and acceptance into his life. 

He looks at his dad now with pleading eyes. “Can Ms. Sweetheart come to our house after the party so I can draw her a picture? Please?” He stretches out the last word so that it has at least five syllables. 

Eddie looks at you expectantly, a timid smile on his lips. “Well?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Your response earns you another quick squeeze from Harris before he darts back to his seat to further inspect his gifts. 

Eddie’s warm voice is low in your ear, his fingertips ghosting the small of your back in a manner that lets you—and only you—know how starved he is for touch. “And you can help me get rid of that slime thing, too.”

Once the party has ended and you, Eddie, and Harris are back at their apartment, the cherubic boy takes the stenciling kit into his room. 

“I’m gonna do art in here so you can’t peek,” he declares, clutching the kit to his chest as though there’s already something to hide. 

Eddie chuckles, raking a hand through his curls. “Okay, bud. We’ll be out here, watching TV. You go be a little artíst.”

Once he hears the bedroom door click shut, Eddie puts the TV on a random channel and plops on the couch with a soft oof. You sit down next to him and he puts his arm around you, allowing you to snuggle in closer. The shirt fabric against his underarms is slightly damp with the day’s sweat, but you’re far too comfortable to even consider it an issue. 

Your unsuccessful attempt at stifling a yawn has Eddie grinning. “Can’t hang with the kids anymore?” he goads, lips flush against your scalp. 

“It’s exhausting being on the winning team,” you playfully retort, adding in an over-the -top fake yawn to drive home your point. “Not that you would know.”

“Oh, yeah?” He pulls you closer to pepper kisses across your neck and cheek until you’re a giggling mess. Satisfied with his handiwork, he allows himself to sink deeper into the cushions and lets out a yawn of his own. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, gently brushing his curls back so they’re not in your eyes. A hum of contentment escapes you as you fully relax for the first time today. 

You feel a slight nudge on your chin as Eddie tilts it upwards and kisses your lips. The gloss you’d applied before the party is long gone, a casualty of conversation and cake consumption, but he has no complaints. 

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he murmurs, shooting shivers down your spine. “And when I saw you helping Harris? Baby, I just…” he searches for accurate words. Nothing he can think of seems to fully convey the depth of his feelings, but he tries his best. “I’m so fucking lucky. We’re so fucking lucky.”

The feeling of your body against his relaxes him further; a marvelous white noise replaces the plethora of overanalyzed problems constantly buzzing through his brain. The heaviness of sleep falls over both of you, and you shift your body even closer to his in a primitive quest for the safety his presence brings. Whatever show is on the fuzzy TV set is now a dull hum until it’s muted by the dreams your subconscious brings.

Eddie only stirs fifteen minutes later when the bedroom door hinges give a soft squeak, ears trained to pick up on Harris’s innocuous noises that often precede chaos. Grogginess overpowers attentiveness, so he misses the smile on his son’s face and the way he whispers, “my birthday wish is coming true.”

Gray clouds cover Hawkins the next day, drenching the small town in cold rain. And while Eddie is certainly grateful that it’s not snowing, this means that he has to find indoor activities to keep his endlessly energetic son occupied. 

Luckily, Harris is still enamored with his birthday gifts, particularly the stenciling kit you’d given him. He sits at the kitchen table now, tracing an outline of a cow on a Valentine for his classmate. Eddie’s not quite sure of the correlation between the animal and the holiday, but he’s learned that some battles are best left unfought.

 “That looks great, Har Bear.”

“I know.” Harris agrees, not looking up from his drawing as he says, “Daddy, you should make a Valentime for Ms. Sweetheart.” Before Eddie can answer, Harris slides over a piece of red paper and a black marker.

“I should, huh?” Remembering a trick he learned back in elementary school, Eddie folds the paper and draws half of a heart against the crease. He has to use Harris’s blunted safety scissors, much too small for his fingers, to cut the paper. Pleased when he sees that it actually resembles a heart, Eddie taps the marker against his dimpled chin as he contemplates what to write. “You really like Ms. Sweetheart, don’t you?”

Harris nods, putting down the blue marker he’s using and reaching for an orange one. “Mhm. I love her, Daddy.”

Eddie’s heart soars at the confirmation of Harris’s adoration of you, but he tries not to make it obvious. “That’s, uh, that’s good.” He finally decides on a simple message: Be Mine, and he signs his name underneath with a dash. It feels a little less impersonal than “from,” but isn’t as strong as “love.” Do I love her? He wonders. No, it’s only been one date. He can’t fall in love this quickly. It’s not possible. “How’s this? Be mine,” he reads aloud, underlining each word with his finger.

“Oh, I like that.” Harris picks up a green marker and writes the same two words on a pink sheet of paper. The letters are a little too big for the paper’s limited space, and he ends up squishing the “e” in “mine” very close to the edge. “How do you spell ‘mommy’?”

Eddie’s throat goes bone-dry. “You wanna make a card for your mom?” Harris has never wanted to make anything for his mom before; never brought her up, really, but maybe that was changing now that he was in school and surrounded by children with present mothers.

But Harris shakes his head. “No, it’s for Ms. Sweetheart. I wanna write ‘Be Mine Mommy.’”

It takes Eddie a second to realize that Harris means “be my mommy,” and he massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Um, Har, you can’t just ask her to be your mom.”

“Why not?”

He doesn’t want to tell Harris that wants to make sure you’ll stick around, nor does he want to make a promise neither one of you can keep. “Because you…you just can’t, okay?” It comes out harshly, and he sputters to fix his tone when he sees Harris’s lower lip quiver.

“But it’s not fair! You didn’t have a daddy, so you got Grampa Wayne as your daddy. I don’t have a mommy, so I want Ms. Sweetheart as my mommy!”

Eddie flash backs to their zoo trip, when Harris had innocently asked him if Wayne had taken him out on father-son days. There’s no child-friendly way to articulate that Wayne had initially been legally obligated to act as his guardian. “I know, bud. I know you do–”

“Then why can’t I ask her?” His expression shifts from anger to confusion, brows pinching together.

Because she could say no, Eddie thinks. Because the responsibility of being a mommy was too much for your biological mother to handle; why would Ms. Sweetheart take it on? What if she doesn’t have a problem being your mommy, but she finds issue with the idea of being connected to me?

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Look, Har. I know you want her to be your mommy. And between you and me, I’d love for her to be your mommy, too.”

“But–”

“But, grown up feelings are weird sometimes,” he presses on, borrowing your verbiage from Thanksgiving, “and feelings like love take time. But I’m gonna make you a promise right now.” He sticks out his pinky finger. “I promise that if me and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love, I’ll tell you, and I’ll let you ask her to be your mommy. Is that a deal?”

Harris looks dubious, but ultimately hooks his pinky around his dad’s. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief that the crisis has been averted for now.

“Before we can ask her to be your mommy,” Eddie continues, “I need to figure out the perfect Valentine’s Day date to impress her. Wanna help?”

Harris purses his lips in concentration, resting his chin in his hand. “How about McDonald’s? They have a ball pit!”

Eddie has to tuck his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “A definite contender,” he finally manages. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Friday night. Valentine’s Day. 

You had been unsure whether Eddie wanted to do anything for the holiday; your relationship was still so fresh, and you didn’t want him to feel pressured. When he crept into your classroom Monday morning with a coffee and a heart-shaped note—far more conspicuous than he’d intended to be—you couldn’t hide the excitement on your face. 

The card reads Be Mine and currently resides under a magnet on your fridge, finding a home among the plethora of drawings from Harris. It’s got some creases in it that Eddie had explained were the result of Harris shoving it into his backpack that morning. You thought it was perfect as is. 

“Are you free on Friday? For Valentine’s Day?” he’d asked, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. When you answered in the affirmative, he visibly relaxed. “Great. I’m taking you out.” His smile lights up his face. “Wear something that you don’t mind getting messy, and I’ll pick you up at 6.”

You’d wanted to try and pry more information from him, but Carol Perkins and her son Frankie walked in just then, and you’d put away the heart as quickly as you could as Eddie scrambles from the classroom. 

You stand in your bedroom now in your Levis 501s and a fuzzy red sweater, taking one last look at your makeup in the mirror reflection. You scrape your fingernail along the bottom of your lip to wipe off any excess gloss. Underneath your outfit is a special surprise, wishful thinking if the night goes well.

At 5:55, you sling your pocketbook over your shoulder and make your way down to the lobby. You spot Eddie the moment you step out from the elevator. He’s pacing, hands shoved in his dark wash denim pockets and lower lip pinched between his teeth.

Your voice draws him from his thoughts. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him so your stomachs touch. “You look really, really handsome.”

“You’re…you’re beautiful.” He’s almost breathless as he says it, eyes roaming down your body and taking in the view. The way your sweater drapes the slope of your breasts has his heart leaping into his throat. He kisses you slowly before proclaiming, “My beautiful Valentine.”

You reach into your purse and pull out a tiny red gift bag, letting it sway and dangle from your fingertips. “I got you a little something.”

The tissue paper crinkles as Eddie rifles through it to pull out a silver lighter, much heavier in his palm than the usual plastic Bic he uses. “Sweetheart, this is…” He takes a closer look and reads aloud the engraved words etched on the front. “Fill my heart with song…”

“It’s from Fly Me to the Moon. Because of Thanksgiving, when you played the record, and Grandma…” you trail off, not wanting to get choked up, “and because you’re a rockstar. My rockstar.” You kiss his lips again, feeling his palm softly cup your cheek.

“I have something for you, too. Um, I didn’t get to wrap it, but I hope you like it.” He unzips his jacket, exposing the gray t-shirt clinging to his pecs. He digs into the inner pocket and clutches a cassette tape, handwritten label stating,“Ms. Sweetheart’s Mix.”

“‘S nothin’ crazy, just some songs that remind me of you.” There’s an array of genres and artists on there. Guns ‘N Roses, of course, as well as Frank Sinatra. There’s Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me, Un-Break My Heart by Toni Braxton, and a plethora of songs with ‘sweetheart’ in the title: Bob Dylan’s Sweetheart Like You, Bing Crosby’s Let Me Call You Sweetheart, The Spaniels’ Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight. 

Tears prickle along your lash line, and you blink them away before you smudge your mascara. “Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” You hold the gift in two hands, giving it a small shake to emphasize your excitement.

A small pang in his chest has Eddie realizing that he wishes you’d ended that statement with you instead of it, but he tries to shove the thought down by kissing you, tongue parting your lips, hand traveling up your side. His hands aren’t even touching skin, only your sweater, yet it’s so electrifying that you feel your thighs clench in wanting.

“C’mon,” you urge him gently, “let’s go on this date before we end up making out in the lobby all night.”

Eddie cocks his head. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Eddie…” Truthfully, you’re thinking the same thing, but your desire for a romantic Valentine’s Day date with him propels you towards the door. You take his hand so he dutifully follows.

“Fine,” he relents with an exaggerated sigh, smile showing off the soft dimples in his cheeks. “But only because you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, y’know that?”

“Oh, I know.”

Twenty minutes later, Eddie’s car pulls up to The Novice Chef. You’ve never been–taking care of Grandma didn’t allot you much time for hobbies–but Jess has told you about their incredible cooking classes. She and Robin went to one right before Thanksgiving and insisted that they’d perfected the art of turkey basting.

“Figured we could learn how to make pizza since we’re basically funding the local Surfer Boy,” Eddie grins, turning the key in the ignition. The car stills and the two of you unbuckle your seatbelts, pushing open the car doors. “Just, uh, no olives on my half.”

You find an unoccupied cooking station with two aprons on it, the venue’s cursive logo displayed on the front in an eager advertisement. You slip one over your head and Eddie does the same, twirling his finger in a turn around motion. You feel the brush of his fingers on the small of your back as he ties the strings in a bow. After returning the favor for him, you squeeze his waist, giggling when he yelps in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“I dunno; you’re just really squeezable.”

Eddie just shakes his head, already missing your touch after that brief moment. He slides a rubber band down his wrist and ties his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck before slipping his rings off of his fingers. He flexes his hands, almost taken aback by their nakedness, and you suppress a heaving sigh when you catch sight of the protruding veins, dark purple snakes that disappear amongst soft arm hair.

“All right everyone, let’s get started.” The unfamiliar voice brings your attention to the front of the room, where the instructor is standing behind his own station. “My name’s Argyle, and I’ll be your tour guide on our journey through Flavortown.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. “First thing we’re gonna do is knead the dough.” He gives a demonstration and then invites the class to try on their own.

“Damn, that dude has some badass hair,” Eddie muses, noting the man’s long raven locks that are pulled back into a waist-length ponytail. He nods approvingly and flips the silver bowl of dough onto the table. A small puff of flour rises as it hits the surface with a thwack, and you’re very glad you’d heeded his warning not to wear something new.

Eddie presses the heel of his palm into the dough, kneading it with precision. Flatten, stretch, flatten, stretch, until he’s satisfied with the consistency. He shapes it into a thin circle, fingertips digging into the edges to form the crust. The movements are hypnotizing, and it’s not until he clears his throat that you bashfully realize you’ve been staring.

“Y’good, Sweetheart?” A sly, knowing grin stretches from one cheek to the other; now you’re certain that he’s caught you.

“Y-Yeah.”

The next step is to spread the sauce onto the dough, Argyle explains, and Eddie places the crust onto the pan and steps aside so you can take over. You dip the ladle into the pot, filling it to the brim. Bits of dried basil and oregano swim in a red tomato sea as you use the ladle’s base to evenly distribute it across the crust. 

“Y’got a little somethin’ on your face.” Eddie whispers in your ear, making you stop mid-swirl. 

“Huh? Where?” You use the back of your free hand to wipe at your cheeks and chin for any sauce that may have splattered, but a close inspection shows nothing. 

Eddie leans over you, his chest flush against your back. You fight the urge to press the curve of your ass to the seam of his jeans, wiping a sweat-slick palm on your apron. “Right…” he swipes his finger down the ladle’s curved side, catching some sauce and dotting it on the tip of your nose, “here.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t worry; I’ve got it.” He leans over and licks the sauce off, a quick lap of his tongue on your skin. The unexpected sensation makes you giggle louder than you’d intended. You clap a hand over your mouth, surely smudging the gloss, but you’ve already drawn the instructor’s unwanted attention.

“Lovebirds, are we here to flirt or to make pizza?” Argyle punctuates his rhetorical question with an exasperated sigh. You duck your head in shame and Eddie just coughs to stifle his own mischievous laughter.

“All right, now for the cheese,” Argyle continues, dipping a hand into a glass bowl and retrieving the ingredient. “Some people think that ya just pile it on; the more cheese, the better, but there’s an art to–hey, not cool, man!” He’s looking right at Eddie, and you glance over to see your date drop a handful of shredded mozzarella into his open mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbles through a mouthful of cheese, but you’re willing to bet that his apology is anything but sincere.

Argyle rolls his eyes, not even attempting to hide his irritation. “You got one more strike, and then you’re out.” He points one finger at Eddie and then jerks his thumb backwards to emphasize his point.

“Yes, sir,” Eddie salutes, and you elbow him in the ribs.

Once the cheese has been sprinkled across the sauce–whatever remains after Eddie’s impromptu snack, anyway–you reach for the mushrooms. Eddie’s sharp gasp makes you freeze up before you can grasp any.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, placing his flour-coated hands on his hips.

You flick your gaze from the bowl of mushrooms to his impatient face. “Um, putting toppings on the pizza?”

“Not that one, you’re not,” he argues with a disapproving shake of his head. “Vegetables don’t belong on pizza.” He picks up the bowl of pepperoni and starts layering the slices on top, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that some of them stick together in a double layer of cured meat. “This is more like it.”

You nudge him, triumphantly layering mushrooms around where he’s placed the pepperoni slices. “It’s called compromise, Eddie. It’s how relationships work.”

His jaw drops and he places his hand over his heart like a southern belle who’s just been presented with extraordinary gossip. “Oh, this is a relationship?” He snickers when you give him a small shove. “I had no idea. I just thought we were two friends who make out sometimes.”

“God, I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.”

An hour later, stomachs filled with pizza that might rival Surfer Boy’s, you and Eddie return to your apartment. A tense stillness fills the air when he walks you to your door, daring either of you to speak your mutual desire into existence.

You’re the one to break the silence. “I had an amazing time tonight, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” he asks almost incredulously, as though he doubts the truthfulness behind your words. He pushes the insecurity aside with a joke. “Even though I almost got us kicked out?”

The memory brings a smile to your face, though you would imagine that the annoyed instructor would not share the same sentiment. “I still need to get you back for that.” You lick his nose and giggle, knocking his hand away when he lifts it to his face. “Don’t wipe it off!”

“And what if I do?” Eddie takes a step closer, resting one hand on the small of your back and putting the other on your cheek. He kisses you and you lean into it, pressing your body against his. His tongue parts your lips, and you hook a finger into his belt loop as you melt into each other.

“Do you wanna come in? Or do you have to get back home to Harris?” You’ve pulled the trigger. There’s no turning back now, and though you’re certainly in a healthier place than the last time you’d made this suggestion, the fear of a similar reaction has your heart in your chest.

He shakes his head, nose rubbing against yours. “Wayne’s staying with him tonight.” He omits the fact that his uncle was the one who’d offered to babysit overnight, a not-so-subtle hint at his expectations of Eddie’s evening plans.

“All night?”

“All,” he kisses you again, “night.”

You fumble with your keys and unlock the door, Eddie wrapping his arms around your waist from the back as though he never wants to let go. As soon as you get it open, its grimacing creak mere background noise to the pounding in your ears, you’re kicking off your shoes and pulling Eddie into the bedroom.

Your hands on his shoulders pin him against the door, only moving them to the hem of his shirt to begin tugging it over his head. It proves to be a difficult task as you try keeping your lips on his neck, but he wraps his fingers around your wrists and stops you.

“Been dreamin’ about worshiping this body…you,” he clarifies, pupils blown so wide that they overtake his chocolate irises. “Please,” he adds, a slight break in his voice. His begging starkly contrasts the bravado that dominated his personality the night you’d met. There was no patience or tenderness, just teeth clashing and hands searching for the fastest and easiest way to bring pleasure.

You nod. “I have a surprise for you first.” You take off your sweater, drawing it slowly up your torso to build up the anticipation, and toss it to the side.

Eddie goes slack jawed at the sheer mesh bra that leaves nothing to the imagination, just as you’d expected him to. He quickly snaps his mouth shut and swallows, a last-ditch attempt to salvage his machismo before he fully loses his mind.

“It’s a matching set, if you wanna see.” 

“Uh-huh.” Eddie walks over, pressing kisses to your collarbones that leave your knees weak. His thumbs graze your breasts, slipping the bra straps down and unhooking the clasp. It falls to the ground and he stoops a bit, bringing his mouth to one hardening nipple and sucking it before moving onto the other. “Perfect.” He trails kisses down your stomach, dropping to his knees as he does. “Perfect.” He lifts one hand, kissing each individual finger right on the first knuckle. “So perfect.”

He remains on his knees as his nimble fingers, still cold from the brief walk to your building, unbutton your jeans, and you shimmy out of them eagerly. His eyes widen when he sees that your panties do, in fact, match your bra: a red-tinted mesh thong that has everything on display.

“Baby,” he moans, grabbing one ass cheek in each of his big hands and pressing soft kisses to your clothed pussy. “Baby…f’me?”

“All for you, Eddie.” Your breath hitches when you feel his lips graze your most sensitive spot. He’s not intentionally teasing you, but logic has no place in your current state.

He kisses down your thighs. “Lay down f’me, yeah?” You do as he asks, laying your head down on the pillow as your body sinks into the mattress. Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting one knee between your slightly open legs. He brings his lips to your ear, gently biting your earlobe and singing in a low murmur, “got it bad, got it bad, got it bad…”

You giggle, the breath from his whisper tickling the shell of your ear, and you tilt your head slightly so you can see his face. “Can I undress you now?” He nods, and you wrestle with his shirt to expose the pale expanse of skin. There’s a dusting of curls across his chest, thicker in the middle and thinner around his nipples. You plant a kiss on his left bicep and drag your palm down his tummy, practically concave during his teenage years but now has a slight softness to it, stopping when you reach the bulge in his pants. He groans at your touch, and you feel his cock twitch slightly. Eager to alleviate his pent-up energy, you undo the button and tug down his zipper, cupping his erection through his navy blue boxers.

“Not yet,” Eddie mumbles, “not done showing you how much I l–care about you. How much you mean to me.” With a burning in his cheeks from what he’d nearly admitted, he drags your thong, a wet patch formed on it, down your thighs and past your calves until it drops to the ground unceremoniously. He balances your legs on top of his shoulders and pulls himself in closer, nudging your clit with his nose as he licks a stripe up your folds. His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, brushing it with his tongue. Soft brown eyes peer up at you, desperately seeking your approval.

“F-Feels good,” you manage, words caught in your throat as pleasure seeps into your body. “Please keep going.”

Eddie needs no further convincing, reveling in your growing wetness against his face while slipping his middle finger into your pussy. You whimper at the feeling of him inside you, bracing yourself for a comment about how needy you are, but he just continues to draw you closer to your orgasm. His finger glides in and out, in and out, rhythmic but not too slow. The bed shifts ever-so-slightly, and you realize he’s rutting his hips against the mattress, desperate for relief.

Your hand finds purchase in the curls adorning his scalp, digging your fingers into them and giving a small tug. Eddie lets a second finger into your tight hole, curling them upwards and hitting your sweet spot over and over.

“Right there, th-that’s it, please, Eddie,” you beg, your moans barely audible over the sounds of him fervently fingering you and lapping at your cunt. “Fuck, Eddie, ‘m gonna cum!”

Eddie just lets out an “mmm,” in acknowledgment, the vibrations shooting through your core and bringing you right to the edge. Your release overtakes you and your thighs instinctively squeeze against either side of his head. He makes a mental note to ask you not to do that because he absolutely needs to hear every noise you make while you cum.

“Y’good?” he asks as you drift down from the high, still perched between your legs. He wipes his slick-glistened lips with the back of his hand before licking the taste of you from his fingers. “I can keep going, trust me.”

“Need you closer.” You try to sit up, but your legs fail you, and you flop back onto the bed. “I have condoms in the top drawer–”

“Brought my own,” he grins, reaching into his back pocket–now positioned just under his ass from the way he’d dry humped the bed–and pulls out three connected foil packages. “Ribbed, for her pleasure.”

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, but it’s the truth. The way he took care of you, made sure you were okay after, offered to continue eating you out despite the raging hard-on he’s sporting…his chivalry isn't lost on you. You watch as he strips down until his body is rid of any clothing, tearing one wrapper and rolling the rubber down his cock, and you bite your lip in anticipation of its delicious stretch. 

There’s an unspoken disappointment at the addition of the barrier, regardless of its practicality. You want to be as close as you possibly can without anything in the way, but neither of you are in any rush to give Harris a sibling.

Imagine it, though, Eddie can’t stop himself from thinking. Imagine the intimacy of filling her up every night until she’s carrying my baby. Taking any little bit that drips out and stuffing it back inside to make sure it takes. Imagine kissing her growing bump every morning to greet her and our unborn child.

He puts one thigh on either side of yours, looking into your eyes as he asks, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Eddie lines up with your entrance, pushing in gently and keeping his gaze trained on the way you take him in. Inch by inch, he disappears into your wanting hole until he bottoms out. He holds your hips while he finds a steady pace, and as soon as you arch your back, he’s slipping his hands around your waist just above the curve of your ass. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispers. “You make me so fucking happy.”

Your hands grasp at his shoulder blades and you kiss him, tongues intertwining while you moan into each other’s mouths. “I’m always yours, if that’s what you want,” you promise, wrapping your legs around his.

“Of course, that’s what I want. Most beautiful girl in the world, asking me if I want her to be mine.” He grins cheekily, burying his head in the crook of your neck and sucking on it lightly before asking, “do you want me to be yours?”

“Yeah,” you exhale as his cock presses against your walls. “Yeah, I want you to be mine.” You smile, moving your hands to the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss. You want to be the only one he touches like this, the one who goes to bed next to him every night and wakes up next to him every morning. The one who celebrates his wins with him and brings comfort during the losses. You want everything that comes with belonging to each other.

Eddie thrusts into you, pulling wanton moans from your lips. “Say my name,” he pleads. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Eddie,” you pant, not able to fathom a single thought beyond the pleasure you’re feeling and who’s bringing it to you. “Eddie, ‘m so close. You feel too…too good.” Good is an understatement; perhaps a more accurate adjective would be euphoric, but finding a more elaborate term is low on your priority list.

Eddie’s peak is not far behind, with the feeling of your warmth around him bringing him closer every second. “Always wanna make y’feel good, baby,” he says. His face hovers just above yours, a bead of sweat sliding down the bridge of his nose onto the tip of yours. “I gotta–”

“Cum for me, Eddie,” you tell him, and with your permission, he pistons his hips a final time and spills into the condom. Your walls contract around his length as you finish with him.

Eddie stays inside you as the two of you catch your breath, smiling and stealing kisses from each other. He’s never felt anything like this before; for him, the thrill of sex is typically fueled purely by the primal instinct to get laid, but he’s in no rush to let you go. His cock begins to soften and he slowly pulls out, chuckling when you whine at the loss of fullness.

“Gotta toss this,” he says, removing the condom with a soft hiss and tying a knot. “Then I’m gonna hold you, mmkay?” Part of him is waiting for the post-sex adrenaline to wear off and the inevitable crash down when he realizes he’s mistaken lust for passion, urgency for belonging, but that doesn’t happen. As much as he’d love to be inside you again, hearing and feeling your satisfaction as you unravel for him, what he wants more than anything is to lay next to you and keep you safe. Safe from what, exactly, he’s not sure, but something compels him to protect you.

He takes you in his arms, the two of you a tangled, sweaty mess of naked limbs. Perspiration mats his sparse chest hair to his skin, but you press your cheek to it anyway and breathe in his scent. Your body grows heavier as sleep overtakes you, but Eddie’s low voice pulls you back for just a second.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

I love you. The words want to flow freely but come to a screeching halt on the tip of his tongue. It’s only your second date, and his mind is clouded with the sappiness of Valentine’s Day and oxytocin; what if he just thinks he loves you? Or what if he truly does, but you don’t feel the same way? Would you tell him, or would you pretend to reciprocate to spare him the hurt? Which is worse?

I love you. But it’s too soon to feel that, to know it for certain. And if he rushes things, he’ll get Harris’s hopes up–get his own hopes up–only to be met with heartbreak and disappointment.

I love you. And what would that admission accomplish, anyway? Where would you go from there? What would it change?

“Get some rest,” is what he settles on, biting the inside of his lower lip in shame. He kisses your forehead and watches you drift off, grateful when the exhaustion of the evening hits him and he follows suit.

I love you, is his last thought before he falls asleep, but he convinces himself that he’s not ready to speak it into existence. 

--

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[sukunas-wife]

Sealed 6

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / I did it 🥺🤍

As much as I’d like to wait til tomorrow and say “happy valentines💌” I haven’t been feeding anyone so here’s a little chapter 🤍 Happy Early Valentines

It was a warp of black and red you were all too familiar with, Sukuna kicked his leg up crossing it over before pulling you down into his lap. He had a smug smile when he leaned his head against his hand staring down at Yuji. Yuji was standing at the base of skulls looking up in disbelief, WHY WAS THAT EVIL MAN TOUCHING YOU SO CASUALLY?! He HAD TO BE HOLDING YOU HOSTAGE!!

“LET HER GO!” You watched Sukuna’s face become more malicious when Yuji started trying to climb up the base. You tried to stand up only for Sukuna to lightly press his nails into your side holding you against him, you looked at him and he faltered with a look of confusion. “Sukun-MOM-WHAT?!” Sukuna’s look of confusion changed to disbelief, “YOU HAVE A SON WOMAN?!” You had half a nerve to smack him in the back of the head, “WE.” He shook his head “woah woah woah- Lady- this brat is fifteen, I’ve been sealed away for centuries don’t you think for a damn minute you're going to make me believe fifteen years ago I- '' Yuji stared eyes wide when he made it up. He had just watched you punch the king of curses over the head to the point he was left in shock. “LISTEN. TO. ME. RY. OMEN. SU. KU. NA.” “DOMAIN EXPAN-Domain Expansion!” You were quick to cancel out his malevolent shrine with your own domain. “That’s not my son.” “THAT THAT IS A HE AND HE-“ You were cut off by Yuji running from behind you trying to land a punch on Sukuna. Sukuna didn't move or hesitate. He knew your domain all too well, if anything this was going to hurt Yuji more than him. Yuji was proud he was going to land a hit until it felt like he hit a wall was thrown back, “Yuji please, you can't do that here…” you gave a sympathetic but sweet smile while he held his hand that was in pain, “This is my domain, forms of physical violence and cursed technique aren’t allowed. Any attacks made are inflicted back onto the caster.” He looked even more confused, all you could do was place a hand on his head, “Just talk okay?” He nodded, still eying Sukuna from behind you and over your shoulder.

You turned back to Sukuna, he was looking away bored eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest and tucked into his sleeves, his body was turned away so his side was facing you. “…Sukuna…” he turned his head away dramatically. “Ryomen.” He turned his back to you. You sighed, feeling Yuji rest his chin on your shoulder, “What’s with this guy?” “Ryo, cmon.” He turned his head, opening one eye to look at you. He reminded you of that stubborn tiger cub he brought home one day that climbed to sit on the highest shelf in your room. It gave you that same look when you called it. Sukuna wasn’t too far off you could see the imaginary tail and ears flicking around. “What is it, woman.” It wasn’t a question, you stayed quiet, maybe you should explain to Yuji first, but imagining telling Yuji that’s his dad without explaining to Sukuna first? There was no doubt he’d let them both die.

”Sukuna I need to explain something very important to you so I need you to really listen to me.” “What could you have to explain to him?” Yuji was asking incredulously. “Yuji, you need to listen closely please. After I explain to him I need to explain to you also.” There was a sinking feeling in Yuji’s stomach when he saw how serious you were about this situation. He nodded with a straight face, he would be quiet just to listen.

Sukuna was still looking at you from over his shoulder, “I’m listening.”

”That day you were sealed away, I made a binding vow with our son- YOUR SON?! Yuji please.” You looked at him and he pouted quieting down, Sukuna did not look amused, “I made a binding vow with our son and the vow was never actively broken. That day you saw how they separated HIM,” you tried to motion with your eyes and face without making it obvious, “from us and used that technique to separate him in time, and while you were sealed away I managed to be freed from the realm and track everything down to the right moment with the help of Morinozuka. The only thing that surprised me is that you were able to manifest in the only person in this world I would’ve begged you not too.”

Sukuna’s face was void of emotion watching you, “Prove it to me.” You reached back, putting your hand on Yuji’s upper back pulling him forward with you. You took his arm, pushing up his sleeve, showing the birthmark he had gotten used to seeing, before pushing up your own sleeve showing the exact same mark, “Is this proof enough or do you want a blood test also?” “I want a bloo-I WAS BEING SARCASTIC” You snapped at him and he gave you a look, you turned to Yuji who you assumed would’ve been more dramatic, was just staring at Sukuna, his mouth was open slightly lost in thought, you watched his eyes move quickly side to side as if searching for something, here or in his memory you weren’t sure.

“…I.. I thought this was a birthmark and you just liked wearing long sleeve shirts…” his voice was a whisper when he looked at you, his eyes held a sadness, “I can't believe this it doesn’t make sense, that’s not my dad and your not my mom this doesn’t make any sense. This.. this mark isn’t anything it's just it's just a..” he trailed off and you heard his laboured breathing eyes tearing up, around his eyes, nose and cheeks started to tint ready when you watched tears slowly start to well. You reached out trying to comfort him, he shook his head no trying to step back , “no” his voice was a cracked whisper, your heart ached “my.. my mom had.. had black hair I …” he swallowed, shaking his head no aggressively, his hands were shaky fists by his side. His body shook when he clenched his jaw, tears streaming down his face. You stepped closer and he didnt move, Sukuna watched you, his eyes moving between you and Yuji, the way you reached out to take the brats fist. It had a bead of blood from how tightly he was clenching his fists. The way you held it yours, your other hand slowly opening his fist. The crescent marks in his palm bleeding, your fingertips growling when you trailed your hand over the small wounds. “Yuji..” your soft voice, he hadn’t heard it in centuries, but he saw it.

It was clear and vivid, the memory played out, his son was 3 running around in the snow. You were standing out there tucked into his side, he had two arms around you, the other two were free, one was holding the coat his son had thrown off saying he was hot from running around, the other was free. He squeezed you into his side feeling you shiver in the gust of cold air, your cold hands on his bare chest meant nothing. He turned to look at you, you looked so tired resting your head against his chest. That was until you both snapped to look at Yuji when you heard his sudden cry. The spot of crimson on the snow, his reddened face, the way you both rushed to him, you knelt checking him all over before he used one small chubby fist to wipe his eyes holding out the other to you. His open shaky hand, you held it in yours, “aw my little prince got hurt.” Your fingertips just over the wound, you used your reverse cursed technique to fix him up before he hugged you still sniffling. You picked him up kissing his head and rubbing his back, he saw Sukuna and made grabby hands, “wan daddy.” Sukuna took him without hesitating holding him to one side, his little head fell against his dad’s shoulder while he sniffled hot tears still falling down his cheeks, “don’t cry Yuji we’re going to show that damn shrub who’s really the strongest here.” Yuji nodded his head watching his dad hold up his hand, before the shrub he tried to break a stick off of combust into flames burning to nothing and melting the snow. Yuji smiled nodding his head, you sighed, shaking your head with a small smile when you watched how Sukuna whispered to Yuji about how there would be nothing in this world that could hurt him once he grew up to be big and strong like his dad. Yuji laughed, agreeing with him…”

Sukuna swallowed once he came back in from his memory, his throat felt tight and there was a burning in his chest. You looked just the same, only now that brat was older, weak and nowhere near being strong. He felt his eye twitch, “Hey brat.” You both turned to look at Sukuna, “Let’s make a deal.”

——————

“Y/n…” you blinked, shaking your head, trying to regain complete consciousness, your hand was still on Yuji only now Gojo Satoru was shaking you, “Is something wrong?” You looked at Yuji’s face, you pulled your hand away from his body. “No- I mean yes, don’t you see he's dead.” It was a lie, you knew any second now Yuji would be waking up. There was no way in hell the two had really come to such a strange agreement. The mark on Yuji’s arm was gone, even if he denied it, a part of him really did accept that both you and Sukuna were his parents. You’d have to send more to your home to bring some things to really ground that belief. You turned to Gojo, he was staring down at you. You felt a cold chill run up your spine, you walked past him, he watched you, in his mind you were in shock and denial. Your actions were too calm, a complete 180 from how you first entered the room. He watched how you made it to the wall where he was sitting, letting your head fall against the wall, your shoulders fell, in your mind you were processing everything that felt like hours in Sukuna’s existence, when in reality it had only been minutes. Being in his soul would never fail to make your head hurt figuratively, slowly you knocked your head against the wall one good time.

You heard Yuji, “woah! Full frontal.” You snapped your head around to see him sitting there. You watched him handshake with Gojo smiling, he let go and he saw you, bright eyed and big smile “mom.”

My little shop <3 Use “SUKUNATION” for 15% off 🤍

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Some tags are being commented because there’s a Tag Limit 😭🤍

[cupidseok]

hiii, do you think you could write about how riize would confess to their partner? the members are soo different from each other so i really wonder how it’d be for each member!

how riize would confess

AUTHOR'S NOTE happy early valentines to everyone seeing this <3 posting this early as i'll be away for cny,, happy cny to those celebrating too !

🩰 — SHOTARO invites you to his dance practice

shotaro who was over the moon when you told him that you thought he looked the coolest when he was dancing. so he decided to ask you to come watch him practice for his upcoming performance. he has never invited someone over to watch him dance before. dance was something he held so close to his heart.

he wants to impress you so badly :( but because he was nervous, he didn’t do well. you questioned him when you noticed how shotaro looked so tense and stiff. you knew shotaro was an amazing dancer, so you were concerned that he wasn’t feeling well.

“i’m nervous because someone i like is watching me.”

🗒️ — you find a post-it note on your desk from EUNSEOK

ever since you and eunseok have been assigned as seatmates, he has never stopped doodling little doraemons on the corners of your notebooks and worksheets. even when you slapped his hands away and asked him to stop ( because you actually wanted to pay attention ! why was he disturbing you >:( ) he would only softly laugh at you before proceeding to doodle on post-it notes and then passing them to you at the end of class.

one day, his doraemon looked a little different !! it had a little speech bubble that said, “i like you.” your heart almost stopped when you read it, but you knew eunseok liked to play little pranks on you, so you just ignored him.

“why are you not replying to my doraemon ? do you not like me ?”

proof that eunseok is picasso reincarnated :

📓 — SUNGCHAN has made a scrapbook for you

“for you,” sungchan mutters as he shoves a scrapbook in your hands. it definitely wasn’t the prettiest scrapbook you’ve seen; the pages were unevenly cut ( was that a coffee stain ? ), the photos were haphazardly glued and the stickers were plastered without any regard to a colour scheme.

hugging the scrapbook to your chest, you knew he probably spent weeks or even months on this, pouring his heart out on each and every page. jung sungchan was built for sports, not arts and crafts. you could tell by the remnants of glue stuck on his fingertips and specks of glitter under his left eye. but you, you were built for arts and crafts. and it touched you that he was willing to step into your world.

“if the time and effort i spent on the scrapbook isn’t enough to show my love for you, i’ll say it verbally too. i love you.”

💌 — you've received a love letter from WONBIN

heart pounding, cheeks flushed, tightly clutching his love letter, so many thoughts were rushing through wonbin’s head. was the twenty-fifth draft better ? his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall what he wrote on each draft. no time to think; you were here already.

you flashed him a soft smile and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red ( he felt like he was burning up ). “hey wonbin, why did you ask to meet m-” he swiftly pressed the now slightly crumpled love letter into your palm and quickly retreated before you could even respond. he couldn’t bear to see your reaction.

hi, this is wonbin. i like you, if it wasn’t already obvious enough. and i’m so sorry if this letter shocked you; i just needed to get it off my chest…

☀️ — SEUNGHAN brings you on a picnic

you remind seunghan of the sun. you were bright and burning like the sun at noon; your ambition was something he greatly admired. however, he wished you’d stop burning yourself away. that was his job – to keep you from shining too brightly and giving too much of yourself away. you were also soft and gentle like the sun in the morning, always willing to care for others and always so kind and forgiving to those who do not deserve it.

but when you’re seated next to him on the red and white checkered mat, he concludes that you remind him the most of the sun during the golden hour. beautiful, warm and fleeting. except he wishes to stay by your side forever.

“the sun is setting so fast.”

“it is, isn’t it.”

“i wish the sun would never set. i don’t want our time together to come to an end.”

🐵 — SOHEE gifts you a cute memento

“monchhichi !” sohee looks up from his book at the call of his nickname. ah, you were here to disturb him again. “what are you doing ?” you peeked over his shoulder. his heart almost fell out at the close proximity. did you truly have no idea of the effect you had on him ? or were you doing this on purpose ?

“i have something for you.” sohee stuffs his hand into his backpack, digging around. he pulled a monchhichi keychain and dangled it in front of your face. “monchhichi !” you let out a gasp of surprise. “did you really buy this for me ?”

“i’m going back to my hometown for a couple of weeks. i got it in case you’ll miss me.”

how monchhichi looks like just in case anyone doesn't know :

🎧 — ANTON has sent you a mp3 file

anton <3 

hi :) i made this for you. attached – mp3 file.

you sat down in front of your computer, still drying your wet hair. you had seen his message before you showered, but you felt too nervous to open it right away. heart fluttering in anticipation, you clicked on the file he sent.

folder 1 : songs i wrote for you

folder 2 : a playlist of songs that reminded me of you

folder 3 : my message to you

mouse hovering over folder 3 after you’ve listened to folders 1 and 2, you thought that anton was truly an angel sent from heaven. to love someone so deeply, to compose a song for them, to make a playlist for them.

a robotic computer voice read out, “folder 3, my message to you. now playing.”

your surroundings slowly fading as you focused on anton’s voice, “hi. you’ve probably listened to the other two folders already, right ? if you haven’t, you better listen to them first before continuing…”

© cupidseok — do not copy / repost / translate my works

[darkbluekies]

hedwig valentine story pls pls ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Sweet like a Dior lip balm<3

Female!yandere oc x yn

Summary: valentines with your rich girlfriend is always sweet

Warnings: none?

Valentine’s special

You’re awoken by Hedwig softly caressing your face. with a yawn, you open your eyes and meet her hazel ones that are staring at you. A wide smile spreads on her face as you notice her. She’s dressed in her light blue satin pajamas — that she insisted to match with your green one. 

“Sit up, I have something for you”, Hedwig smiles and helps you up into a sitting position. 

You think that she is awfully excited this early in the morning. Carefully, you glance at the clock on the bed side table. Seven am. 

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t sleep”, she smiles. “I was way too excited.”

“For what?” you yawn. 

“‘For what’? My love, it’s, Valentine’s day!”

“Oh, right.”

You haven’t gotten anything for her, because when you tried to go out and buy something for her, she threw a fit because you wanted to go alone. That’s her own fault, you think. 

“I have the entire day planned!” Hedwig smiles widely, clapping her hands excitedly. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

She places two neatly wrapped gifts on your legs while watching with big eyes as you open them. She has given you a rolex watch and a lip balm from Dior. 

“Why this?” you ask and hold up the lip balm. 

Hedwig giggles and opens the balm, swiping it along your lips. 

“Because I’m going to kiss you a million times today”, she smiles and pecks your lips sweetly. “And this makes it very nice. It’s my favorite one and I think that you would like one too.”

“It’s nice”, you reply, feeling it on your lips. 

Hedwig smiles. Her eyes are filled with love to the point that you wonder if she’s going to cry. She looks like she’s filled with bigger emotions than her body can handle. 

A knock on the door makes Hedwig gasp. She runs over to the door and lets her private chef come in, holding a tray in his hands. He places it on the bed and you can only drool over the thick, fluffy pancakes and multiple side dishes. The chef leaves and Hedwig smiles at you, nodding at the plates. 

“It’s yours”, she smiles. “All yours.”

“For me?” you question, even if it was clear that she had made her chef create this just for you. “Thank you.”

She watches you as you try the pancakes, and smiles widely when you make sounds of satisfaction. 

“I haven’t gotten you anything”, you say sheepishly. “You never let me go out and get you something.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that!” Hedwig exclaims and sounds genuinely surprised that you thought of that. “I already have everything I need. Just seeing you happy is all that I could ever wish for.”

She sprints up from the bed and over to her wardrobe where you have gotten your own little corner. She picks out a newly ironed outfit you own. 

“Do you want to wear this?” she asks, although you know that you will wear that no matter what. “It will match my dress.”

You nod. Hedwig smiles happily and handbags the outfit on the chair in the corner of the room. You get to change into the clothes once you have eaten and she helps you fix yourself. She styles your hair, takes care of your face and gives you jewelry. Carefully, she swipes the Dior lip balm over your lips, cups your cheeks and kisses you. 

“I love you so much”, she whispers lovingly. “You are everything I could ever need. I’m so lucky.”

You smile slightly. You never know what to answer when she bombards you with love. You never feel like anything you respond is enough. 

Two hours after waking up, you’re out of the house, hand in hand with your girlfriend. She looks like a doll, with curled hair, pink satin dress and a white handbag. Sometimes, you feel inferior to her, even though she is the one worshiping you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask as Hedwig’s driver opens the car doors for the two of you. 

“It’s a secret”, she smiles. “But I promise that you’re going to like it!”

During the entire car ride, you listen to music that you like, on Hedwig’s demand. You start to wonder if she has confused Valentine's day with your birthday. 

The car stops outside a Cafe and your eyes widens as you see the sign over the door, and the kittens in the window.

“You're kidding”, you gasp. “A cat Cafe?”

Hedwig smiles widely and nods excitedly. Her chauffeur opens your door and lets the both of you out. Hedwig drags you over to the door and you’re welcomed by two kittens that want to say hi. You pet them as Hedwig talks to the waiter about your reservation. The little kitten licks your fingers and purrs loudly. 

“Come, sweetheart”, Hedwig says and pats your shoulder. “We’ll be shown to our table.”

You let go of the little cat and joins Hedwig. You notice how the cat follows you with happy eyes. Hedwig giggles at the sight. You get to sit down by a window in the corner of the room, away from the other guests. 

“Here’s the menu, I will be back in a little while”, the waiter smiles, gives you two folders and leaves. 

You start to look through the menu and feel how the little cat jumps up on your lap.

“It’s following me”, you chuckle. 

“Yeah …”, Hedwig smiles as her unreadable smile slowly, carefully, widens. 

“Aren’t you going to see what you want?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah …”

She looks down into the menu, skimming through. You decide to get yourself a vanilla milkshake and a piece of chocolate cake. Hedwig orders a soda with a strawberry shortcake. She stares at you while you pet the cat that has fallen asleep in your lap. 

“I can already tell that you will be a great parent”, she smiles. “When we have our kids we have to get a pet too.”

“A cat?” you ask. 

“Not necessarily. I would love a dog. A pomeranian perhaps … or a poodle.”

You take a sip of your milkshake, and of course Hedwig wants to taste. She wants to take a bite of your chocolate cake as well, and you start to wonder if she ordered different food from you to be able to taste more. 

“I can’t believe how lucky I am”, she says. “I don’t dare to think about what would have happened if we would have never met, if you’d never have transferred to my school. I can’t picture my life without you. We graduate this summer, and then we’re free … and we can do what we want. Isn’t that fantastic?”

“I think that I’m going to go to university”, you say. 

“Oh, really? You don’t have to study, you know that right? You won’t even have to work. We can live on my money.”

“But I would like to continue studying.”

Hedwig looks genuinely shocked that you want to continue your studies. 

“I want to contribute to society”, you say. “Somehow.”

“We will”, Hedwig says and smiles widely. “But we won’t have to suffer for it! I’m going to be a runway model and you can do whatever you want. Indulge in your hobbies!”

You decide to not fight against her and instead enjoy the cake you ordered. 

The day continues with you and Hedwig petting cats and enjoying the food. Hedwig moves over the table to sit beside you while you play with a little kitten. She hugs your arm, leaning her chin on your shoulder. 

The sun sets early this time of year, and Hedwig insists on taking a walk around the wealthy neighborhood she lives in. The houses are three times the size of yours and worth more than your entire family’s income put together. Despite being with Hedwig for months now, you can’t still feel comfortable — you feel like you’re trying to be someone you’re not. Although cold and dark, it was nice to walk alongside Hedwig. 

“I know that this is supposed to be a ‘hot girl’ walk … but I’m cold”, you shiver. 

Hedwig turns to you and takes your hands between hers, blowing warm air. She’s always loving in every action she does. You’re impressed that a girl as wealthy and spoiled as Hedwig isn’t unbearable. She has never been insufferable, although you have noticed that she can be out of touch, but she has never been entitled. 

“Are you feeling better?” she asks sweetly. 

“When can we go inside?” you question. 

“When we’re cold enough.” She smiles slightly. “Otherwise the hot chocolate won’t taste as good.”

“What have you planned?”

“I’ve planned for us to snuggle down on the couch in the living room, watch a movie and drink hot chocolate.”

You can’t help but enjoy the idea. 

“You’re going to fall asleep before the movie starts though”, you tease her. 

“I will not!” she protests, but you know that she believes that as well.

You’re not sure that she has ever been able to watch an entire movie with you. Her excuse is that she feels so safe and comfortable with you that she gets tired, and eventually falls asleep. 

When you return inside, her father’s staff has already fixed the living room with romantic lit candles and steaming chocolate for the two of you. You change into pajamas and climb under a heavy blanket on the big couch with Hedwig right beside you. 

“Tastes better when you’re cold, don’t it?” she smiles. “I learned it when we were skiing when I was a kid. Now, I can only drink hot chocolate when I’m cold.”

You nod. Hedwig smiles and kisses your lips to lick off the whipped cream and giggles. You smile. 

Not even ten minutes into the movie, Hedwig has dozed off on your shoulder, holding your hand in hers. 

[causenessus]

Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara

written in 2nd pov (female implied!)

song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster

word count: 1492 words

lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33

dazai

tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency

peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him

solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him

Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this

the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3

“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth

“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen

“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask

you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no

he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”

your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be

a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.

you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered

he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.

you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”

“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things

chuuya

chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party

you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you

plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his

he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face

he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you

he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar

as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again

when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle

“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips

your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.

“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful

“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3

tecchou

you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you

your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring

he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand

“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze

“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3

Jouno is most certainly not happy about it

“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table

(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)

probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you

he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it

you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you

“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed

(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can

you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3

tachihara

you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny

yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”

that’s tachihara and you <3

whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well

loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3

he has a ton of inside jokes with you

for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate

earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand

once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.

he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”

you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3

and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter

even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection

you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts

meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3

along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other

he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3

[leaawrites]

Valentine's day kisses

Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo reader

Warnings: fluff, kisses, valentine's day mentioned,

Summary: Percy brings flowers in hope of getting a Valentine

For everyone who needs a bit of love today! I love and appreciate you all so dearly <3

Masterlist

The first thing she woke up to was a fresh Bouquet of flowers beside her bed. Y/n looked around the room, trying to figure out who the mysterious sender was. No one looked at her in a way that told her they were it, they all only looked at her in expectation. None of her brother’s or sisters knew who had smuggled the flowers in here. Or more importantly, who was crazy enough to sneak into the Apollo cabin before dawn to surprise someone.

Apollo kids were always the first to wake, but not today. Today it was someone who wasn’t too afraid of potentially getting caught, but too bashful to admit that they were it.

“Looks like you’ve got a Valentine,” Laura chirped in from across the other side of the cabin, making the others laugh.

Y/n looked down, flowers in her hand, cheeks growing red. Whoever it was, she wanted to know who they were.

“Are you going to find out who it was?” It felt like Laura could read her mind. That wasn’t the first time it happened. She already did it when Y/n stared into the distance at one of their traditional campfires.

“He’s cute, I know. But stop thinking about him,” she told her back then.

“Who are you talking about?” Y/n asked since she wasn’t looking at anyone in particular.

“The new kid. Peter?” Laura guessed his name wrong.

“Percy,” Y/n corrected her.

She guessed wrong on purpose.

Y/n looked at her best friend, she knew her all too well.

“Of course, I will,” she answered confidently. Even though she had no idea where to start. “But where?”

“What is with outside the cabin?” Another camper said as he walked through the door.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at 1. How he knew about what they were talking about and 2. What he meant by it. The girl pushed her blanket away from her body, freeing her legs from the heat. The cold morning air hit her bare skin the moment she stepped outside the cabin. Everyone was watching her as she walked outside. She had no idea who or what would be outside, until she saw Percy Jackson leaning against the wall of Cabin 7.

“Percy Jackson,” she mused. “What brought you out here this early?”

“So, you like them?” He asked, partly answering her question, when only vague.

“You slipped the flowers beside my bed?” Y/n asked holding his gaze. She was always someone who would look the person she was talking to in the eyes out of respect.

“Happy Valentine’s day.” He smiled at her like a innocent boy.

Y/n laughed at him and his unusual shyness. He acted all relaxed when he was still leaning against the wall, but now that he’s face to face with the girl he secretly admired, the words left his mouth. There was no other sound coming from his vocal chords but a small laugh when he heard hers.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek in gratefulness. “What about, I get dressed and then we could go down to the lake or so?” She asked, trying to stop the tension between them.

“Yes,” he answered, smiling at her still. “Or you could teach me how to use bow and arrow?”

“I’m not sure if that will end well,” she said, amused at the memory of his first try with the gear.

“I mean, I’m a fast learner,” he shrugged, playing the embarrassing off with a cool facade.

“Sure you are,” Y/n said, before disappearing again into her cabin to get dressed for the day ahead.

[egcdeath]

the l word

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 

word count: 9.1k

warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family

author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!

this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!

part four / series masterlist

Zero

After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 

Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 

Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.

One

After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 

For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.

That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 

Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.

“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 

“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”

“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”

“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”

He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”

“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 

“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”

You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.

You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 

The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 

Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-

You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-

Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 

“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 

“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.

“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”

No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 

“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 

“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”

“Please,” you grit out. 

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. 

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No.”

“You sure you want me to come over?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 

You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 

You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 

You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 

Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 

“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 

“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 

“Not really,” you admitted. 

“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”

Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 

Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 

“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  

“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.

“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 

You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become

somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 

“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”

“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”

Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”

He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 

“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”

Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.

“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”

“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 

You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.

And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 

Two

Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.

Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.

So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.

“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.

Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”

“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”

“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 

“I… fine, I’ll sing.”

The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 

You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.

The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 

“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.

“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 

“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”

“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”

“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”

“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”

“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”

“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”

He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 

Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 

“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”

“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 

“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 

“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”

“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”

The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 

That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 

Three

When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 

The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 

You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 

“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 

You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 

Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 

You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.

You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  

No.

There was no way.

This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 

Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 

Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 

You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 

You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.

You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.

“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 

Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 

Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 

You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”

“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 

You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 

“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 

“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 

“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”

“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”

“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 

“I don’t I just-“

“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”

Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.

“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 

This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 

“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 

“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”

You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.

Although, life was never that simple, was it?

As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.

Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 

But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.

“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”

You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 

“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  

“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 

“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 

“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”

Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 

“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 

You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 

“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”

Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“

“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 

You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 

“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”

Four

You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 

You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 

Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.

After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 

Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 

“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.

“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 

“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 

“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 

“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”

Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.

You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?

“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”

You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 

“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.

He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.

By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.

You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 

While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 

While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 

“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”

By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 

“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 

“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”

You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 

Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”

You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 

Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.

You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.

Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”

“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.

“Never heard from her again.”

You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”

As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 

As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 

You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 

“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.

You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 

“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 

“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 

You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 

“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 

“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”

Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 

“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”

You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 

“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 

“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”

“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”

“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”

His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 

You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 

“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”

“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 

It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 

“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”

“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 

“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 

“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”

Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 

“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.

The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.

“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.

You were glad that he found you too.

Five

It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 

When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 

Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 

Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 

“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 

“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 

Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”

“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 

“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 

“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 

“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”

“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”

“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”

You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.

When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 

“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 

Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 

With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 

“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.

“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”

With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.

“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 

“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 

“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”

“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”

“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”

You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 

“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”

He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 

“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”

“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”

“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”

How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 

However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 

Plus One

Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 

Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 

“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 

“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”

“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 

“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 

“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 

Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 

“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”

“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 

It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.

You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 

Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 

You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 

You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 

“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.

Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.

[ferrstappen]

happy mother's day, sorry for the mess l Max Verstappen blurb

a/n: Charles' version will be posted shortly <3

pairing: dad!Max Verstappen x female reader

you can read more of dad Max and the twins here <3

summary: Mila and Luca Verstappen go rogue during Mother's Day, ignoring Max's plan.

Max sighed after putting Mila and Luca to sleep, both too excited to celebrate their mum in just a few hours, after spending weeks planning and buying gifts for you.

The living room was neatly decorated with yellow and purple balloons, the twins' favorite colors. Max had multiple red and white roses delivered. Of course that wasn't enough, the three of them had gone shopping for gifts, Max not caring about it being too much and the twins not having to think whether it was or wasn't expensive; whatever reminded them of you, it was bought.

Max knew you didn't really care about the Dior handbag, a long parka from Moncler, maybe you'd like the Cartier bracelet, but only because it was engraved with Mila, Luca and Max's name and date, but they could've had a cheap fake gold bracelet from Aliexpress and you would've loved it just the same because it had their names on it.

You'd also love the assortment of chocolates that would' probably be gone by today's afternoon. It was a situation Max knew too well ever since you started dating. Max was taught by his mother and sister that classics were classics for a reason, never failing to gift you a large box of chocolates on Valentine's Day.

He remembers vividly your first Valentine's, enjoying quiet time on his apartment not really bothering to go outside, wanting to kiss and touch as much as you wanted in the early stages of the relationship, not having to care about people taking pictures, fans approaching Max for a conversation or autograph, the only thing both of you needed was being next to each other. His memory is clear when picturing you wearing one of his shirts after he left the bathroom, the box of chocolates lying next to you and he opened it, suddenly craving a dulce de leche filled chocolate.

It was empty.

Max was surprised that you were able to eat the entire box during the day, but then he learned it was a common occurrence, but he still pretended to get surprised whenever the box didn't survive past midnight.

Maybe he was dreaming, the early stages of your relationship always brought a smile to his face and was the stuff of his dreams all these years later, but he was aware of his surroundings now. This wasn't his old apartment that he after shared with you, this was the penthouse you got after getting married.

And whatever was coming from the kitchen, wasn't your doing since your warm body was perfectly curved against Max; your back pressed against his back, bottom moving against him as you tried to get comfortable after he moved, Max's hand resting dangerously low on your stomach and legs intertwined.

This was one of the few times he rolled his eyes at Mila and Luca, already knowing they were up to something, absolutely not in their room. He was hoping he would get the chance to celebrate and cherish you before the kids had the chance to interrumpt.

Oh well.

Rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet Max followed the shushed voices, English and Dutch mixing as Mila reprimanded her twin for bringing jam instead of Nutella, but Luca responded 'mama prefers jam in the morning, Mila'.

Max crossed his arms, this not being the first time the twins decided to get started with breakfast. They didn't care that Max tirelessly reminded them that he would wake them up and prepare breakfast for you.

"What happened with the plan?" Max asked and noticed how the twins stopped their movements, carefully and slowly turning around to face their dad. "M, any reason why there's a puddle of orange juice right next to you? Lu, do you know why all those tea leaves are scattered on the sink?"

To make matters worse, a panicked Luca dropped the glass he was carrying, the sound booming around the penthouse.

Max asked his son if he was okay at the same time Mila told her brother he was an idiot.

they all failed to hear the hurried steps coming towards the kitchen. Your eyes were met with your barefoot husband tiptoeing around the glass as he told the kids to not come near.

"What happened?" You asked and this time, it wasn't just the twins who ceased their movements and slowly turned their backs to you. this time they were joined by Max.

Silence filled the room as you were still waiting for an answer for the small mess on the kitchen.

The three Verstappen clones looked at each other, mentally planning on what to say next.

"Happy mother's day!"

[leqonsluv3r]

masterlist

liquid courage (leon kennedy and afab!reader, you go over to check on leon and things escalate between you and your neighbor in the best way possible)

pretty girl (re4!leon kennedy and afab!reader, is leon’s personal safe haven, and you let him use you in the sweetest way)

naughty or nice (re2!leon kennedy and fem!reader, santa came early this year to leave gifts under your tree so you thank him with a small gift of your own. CHRISTMAS SPECIAL)

naughty little bunny (re4 leon!kennedy and innocent!fem reader, leon catches you playing with his knives and decides to teach you a lesson about touching his things)

good girl (re4 leon!kennedy and fem!reader, you find leon’s hand cuffs from his raccoon city days and he shows you what he truly used them for)

love (re!2 leon kennedy and fem!reader, you have a shitty week at work and leon is more then happy to help you forget all about it)

heartbeat (re!4 leon kennedy and weskers!daughter!reader, enemies to lovers. leon trains you by his enemies hand only to discover your more then just weskers daughter)

cardiomyocytes (and the affected) (re!2 leon kennedy x microbiologist!fem!reader, leon has no idea what you do, he tries to understand but it’s not in his best interest. he loves you no matter how smart you are)

popular (re!4!bodyguard!leon kennedy x famous!reader, your one of the most famous people on the planet. almost untouchable until leon kennedy becomes your bodyguard. changing things for the better)

baby blues (re!4 husband!leon x pregnant!wife!reader, you feel insecure while your pregnant and leon helps you see just how beautiful you really are)

daddy’s girl (re!6 leon!kennedy x fem!reader, leon helps you out when your a bit stressed from work and comes up with a method to help you both)

my own cinderella (re!4 leon!kennedy x fem!reader, leon’s father takes reader in when she has nowhere to go, cleaning and cooking, like the princess cinderella. leon knows he needs to rescue her, his princess. friends to lovers, modern cinderella with a smutty happy ending)

stay tuned for more <333

nsfw alphabet w/leon — as listed

re2!leon kennedy bf!headcanons — as listed

re!4 leon kennedy bf!headcanons — as listed

re4 boss!leon kennedy headcanons — as listed

trepadation — leon takes care of you while you have an illness

the idea of disloyalty — you find out about leon’s past with ada

bf!leon kennedy text au — as listed

bf!leon kennedy text au pt.2 — as listed 

bf!leon kennedy text au pt.3 — as listed

bf! leon kennedy text au pt.4 — as listed

ID!leon kennedy bf!headcanons — as listed

safe with me — leon protects you from the bad people of the world

husband!leon kennedy — leon helps pregnant!reader and takes care of her, based on the oneshot baby blues

girl!dad leon kennedy — leon raises a little girl with the help of his wife, being the best girl dad possible. based on the oneshot baby blues and the above headcanon list!

guilty as sin? —re!2!rookie leon kennedy x sergeant!cop reader, leon is a rookie and after you get injured…he finds himself caring more about you then he should.

stay tuned for more <333

the art of cruelty — (you meet leon in a coffee shop and the rest is history)

pretty girls don’t cry — (you love leon but as you reflect on your past with him, maybe it’s best it’s over)

labyrinth — (leon loves you in all the ways you deserve)

you are in love — (leon realizes he’s in love with you after being his best friend for years)

valentine’s day — (leon finally starts to heal after he meets you in a grocery store)

funeral — (your boyfriend leon supports you after you start a new job)

early mornings — (you and leon have some fun in the mornings)

insatiable — (you and leon begin dating and quickly become infatuated with each other)

waiting room — (you visit leon in the hospital despite your hatred for them)

so high school — (leon begins working at the police station as a rookie, you develop a crush and know that he’s just going to mean everything to you)

my dirty princess — (leon fucks you rough after a tough mission)

don’t forget me — (leon and you break up leaving you both broken but still pieces together)

leon being a good bf — (self explanatory)



stay tuned for more <3333

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Valentines day 🌹🌹 Can I Please have some more Triwizard Draco?

set in the same universe as this and a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

He gets to invite Ron and Hermione over before official garden party of whatever kind of party Narcissa is throwing - it's Sirius's name on all the invites but she and her sister have been doing all the heavy lifting and vetting the guest list - which is a little bit about them being able to see the house early and a lot about seeing if they and Draco can manage to not kill each other.

"Want to go exploring?" Draco greets them with, hanging over the edge of a banister with a grin on his face.

Harry glares. "Are you trying to get them killed?"

He rolls his eyes. "No, I'm trying to use them as scapegoats for when we get caught going through the rooms that the adults haven't cleared yet."

Oh.

He turns to them. "Want to go exploring?"

Ron's eyebrows are raised, but he says, "Yeah, alright."

Hermione sighs. "At least we can use our wands here."

[hiro-doodlez]

Happy Valentines!! Since it's that sad boy time of year for me (for reasons my aroaceness will explain) I have 2 books about being on the aroace spec that I think anyone looking for, uhh validation would enjoy!! Theyre a joy to read and very very comforting on bad days!! More about them under the cut :3

LOVELESS

Loveless is a novel that tells Georgia Warr's story of finding out she's the A in the LGBTQIA+ community. This book has so many quotes that make me just want to cry, like WHY are you this good.. please mx alice oseman STOP THIS ATTACK ON MY HEART “In the end, that was the problem with romance. It was so easy to romanticize romance because it was everywhere. It was in music and on TV and in filtered Instagram photos. It was in the air, crisp and alive with fresh possibility. It was in falling leaves, crumbling wooden doorways, scuffed cobblestones and fields of dandelions. It was in the touch of hands, scrawled letters, crumpled sheets and the golden hour. A soft yawn, early morning laughter, shoes lined up together by the door. Eyes across a dance floor. I could see it all, all the time, all around, but when I got closer, I found nothing was there.” my fav quote: “I'm at uni for three months and suddenly I'm not straight any more.” “I used to dream of a spellbinding, endless, forever romance. A beautiful story of meeting a person who could change your whole world. But now, I realised, friendship could be that too.”

IS LOVE THE ANSWER?

Is love the answer? Is a manga following a girl named Chika figuring out she's (aro)ace. The entire thing has AMAZING art and just some of the most.. i feel you buddy lines i've ever read. For example: "I see. I just haven't met "the one" yet... yeah. I'm sure that's all it is." "I'm asexual. That's what I am. There might be other possibilities. Maybe a year from now I might identify differently. But right now, that's what feels right to me."

[donutz]

Dogday x reader Valentines Day special[1♡8]

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

What did they do in the morning on Valentines?

— He woke up pretty early to set the gifts near you, or just spending extra time on them to make sure they were perfect

— He wanted to wake you up too, but he wanted you to get your rest

— He also spent some extra time going over your favorite things just in case he forgot

What did they do for you?

— Spent a bunch of time on your gifts

— He set a secret area so he can give you your gifts

— When you were waking up, he tried to have you as awake as you can be

— He wants you to see everything!

What did they get you?

— Your favorite things!

— Your interests

— He gave you this paper heart that Bubba Bubbaphant taught him

— A card mainly colored with your favorite colors, even if your favorite color is black, plus he included some of his favorite colors

— A heart shaped box full of not just chocolates, but your favorite candies!

— He always catches you sneaking candy, so that’s how he knows

— Of course, a bouquet of flowers, ranging from red, orange, and yellow colored ones

What did you give them?

— A bone with your scent(in this your scent is sugar cookie)

— A bow that’s in a shape of a bone

— A sticker that also has your scent

— The biggest bouquet ever, it’s bigger than Dogday’s, because Bobby Bearhug thought it’d be a great idea

— Cuddles, ear scratches, hugs, and some lovely kisses <3

Did they do anything special? (Extra hugs, kisses, changing their routine etc.)

— He gave you more hugs than he regularly does

— He woke up extra early

— Planned everything out the weekend Valentine’s Day is in

— Decorated his dog house(it’s on Mob Entertainment’s Instagram if you wanna see it)

What activities did you both do?

— Did a little watching tv date

— You both taught the lesson for today, it was about Valentine's day

Did they seem brighter today?

— Yes, it's somehow possible

— His tail was wagging almost all day, and every time he saw you

Anything new about their appearance?

— He did have a little orange bow on his ear

— For the date he dressed in a suit, it was adorable, he was so happy too

How many times did they say I love you?

— Almost every time he saw you, it was because he didn't want to annoy you with those words

— Yes, you said it back every time(You better have, I'm watching you)

Did they ask to be your Valentines, or did they ask if you could be their Valentines? There’s a difference!

— He asked if you could be his Valentines

— “Or if you want me to be your Valentines— that's fine!!”

— It's your choice

What did they do the night before Valentine's Day?

— Made extra details in his gifts

— Made sure nothing would go wrong the day after(he was hoping, a lot.)

— Almost stayed up, but he knew that you'd know he did, so he went to sleep after a bit, just for your sake

Were they shy asking to be your Valentines or when they asked if you could be their Valentines?

— He wasn't shy at all!

— I wouldn't say he was confident, but he was quite bright! As the dog he is

— Biggest smile on his face, and he knew that you'd say yes(hopefully)

Did they add anything extra to their areas(their little homes)? Or their activities?

— He had a big picture of you and then made an outline of a red heart around your face

— Not in the weird creepy way he just loves you

— He spread some rose petals across his floor too

What did they do when it was time to sleep?

— Thought a little bit more about the gifts and made sure to check over them in the morning

— Was trying so hard not to worry too much, plus he was going to go over it in the morning!

— It was fine!

— It will be fine.

Question♡ Did you get anything for Valentine’s Day? If so, what was it? If not, here's your long awaited gift^_^(the fanfic u probably just read)

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 9 - Partance

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: A tiny touch of spice... some making out, celebrations and some more late-night confessions.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when we find out if their whole gamble pays off... Happy Valentine’s Day! This is my gift to you 🫶 Also, be warned that the rating will increase in the next chapter. 😉 Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

You awaken early to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. A glance into the living room, as you wander downstairs towards the enticing scent, shows the sofa is already rearranged and blankets neatly stowed, as if not slept on at all - a little twinge behind your ribs at Benedict’s forethought around the ruse you shared a bed last night.

Almost reluctant, you enter the kitchen, and there he is, pouring two cups from the cafetière, the sunlight catching the ring on his finger as he does so. Your husband. Benedict Bridgerton. He twists, and you see he is wearing glasses, taking you by surprise. On the table, you spy a newspaper open. You are momentarily embarrassed that you are married to a man you know so little about; you didn't even know he wore reading glasses.

“Good morning,” his greeting is soft but apprehensive. 

“Good morning,” you mumble back, taking the proffered cup from him without quite letting your fingers touch.

Guilt eats at your soul as you take a seat, the creak of the old chair as you sit down seeming so loud in the otherwise silent room - guilt about pushing him too far with kissing, guilt about your confession, as if you burdened his sleeping subconscious with an unfair weight. It makes the need to talk about anything else bubble up within you.

“I had an idea,” you break the silence as he takes a seat. He says nothing in response, just looks at you expectantly. “We could pretend our relationship developed long distance. Say that we met through Eloise a few years ago? But were both with other people at the time. Perhaps we wrote to each other and, over time, grew close? I thought we could write some ‘fake’ love letters this morning. Fold them up, make them look a little old and creased, you know, and then exchange? Carry the letters as if we truly sent them to each other. It doesn't have to be many. Maybe 3 or 4? Backdated, of course.”

As you talk, his face lights up. “It’s brilliant!” he enthuses quietly, whipping off his glasses. “It's the perfect explanation! Then it makes sense I rush to Paris to rescue you! And my sister. The outbreak of war made me realise what you truly mean to me,” he spitballs, talking fast, gesturing animatedly. “It would explain our whirlwind marriage too - that we couldn't live another day apart without…. without being together with the looming uncertainty of war.”

His chair drags loudly across the tile as he stands up rapidly, grabs your hands, and hauls you up and into an embrace, lifting you off the ground and twirling around—a spontaneous celebration.

“You are brilliant!” he exclaims fervently, and then your lips find each other impromptu. A kiss that starts as a mere brush to seal the pact rapidly morphs into something else. Before you know it, your mouths are open, tongues tangled, and he is hoisting you higher in his arms, his hands grabbing your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your nightgown rides up to your hips, the heat of his pelvis crushed against yours through thin cotton pyjamas….

And that is the sight which greets the returning homeowners and Eloise. 

A loud squeak from Marie has you rocketing apart, sliding down his torso back to your feet, cheeks aflame. But it's too late. There is no way to deny what they walked in upon-–you wrapped around Benedict’s body as you kiss fiercely.

“Wow… I miss that passion,” Jerome wisecracks in a bid to break the tension.

Although she is silent, the look on Eloise’s face is one you won't soon forget—shock, abhorrence but a streak of inquisition, as if taking on new information and filing it away. 

You and Benedict both mutter apologies in unison, which seems to charm your hosts even more into good-natured joshing as they unpack croissants and jams from a wicker basket.

“A breakfast for our newlyweds,” Marie chimes with a wink. “I’m sure you need sustenance after a night like yours.”

In some ways, although mortifying, you cannot deny the cinch they caught you in does not exactly hurt the illusion of you being a real couple.

And so you all take a seat and begin breakfast together. Each treat on the table is delicious, and the conversation flows easily.

“You do know Solene will be mad she was not invited to the wedding,” Eloise remarks offhand at one point.

“Pssh! Let me deal with my sister,” Marie counters with an almost stereotypical Gallic shrug and a dismissive chuckle. 

—

With a couple of hours until your sailing, you pack the few things you unpacked in the last couple of days and then turn to letter writing as Eloise reads. You sit outside, a delicate breeze over your sleeves as Benedict joins you. You agree on some dates and then fall silent as you pick up pen and paper and compose letters. 

Yours don't feel sophisticated, but they feel honest - writing about actual events back home and more recently in Paris to lend an air of believability, interspersed with words of affection, longing, and hope to be reunited. Your final letter is dated the day war was declared, expressing a need to see him as soon as possible.

You have no idea what Benedict is writing, but his intensity and speed impress you, pages seeming to pile up around his elbows as you see glimpses of his elegant, looped script.

“I just have much to say, that’s all,” he responds, somewhat enigmatic when you express your concern that his letters appear much longer than yours.

—

Before you know it, Jerome and Marie are dropping you off at the port in Le Havre, hugging you all so tightly with promises of letters, telegrams, and phone calls. You will certainly miss them and Solene; they have been so welcoming to you, even for such a short period.

Benedict wraps an arm around your shoulder as a porter loads your cases onto a trolley and accompanies you to the boarding queue.

“Just like we practised,” he turns his head and murmurs into your ear so only you hear. 

And then he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you, instantly opening your mouth under his, your pulse racing even among the crowd.

“Do you mind?” Eloises hisses, disgust evident on her face.

Breaking the kiss, you giggle and bury your face in Benedict's shoulder as he shoots her his trademark elder brother look of derision.

“Do you want your best friend to come with us to England or not, sister? Because we have to look married and madly in love,” he points out, his arm stroking your back.

“You don't have to swallow her face,” Eloise grouses, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes as she pouts, looking aside.

“The more convincing, the better,” he counters, but their dispute is interrupted by your being called forward to the desk.

After asking for your tickets and passport, the surly young man looks at your passport and frowns.

“Are you planning to remain in the UK?” His ask is terse.

“Yes,” you reply, clear but polite.

“Reason?”

“She is my wife,” Benedict cuts in, that arm back across your shoulders.

“Do you have proof?” the man looks sceptical.

Benedict produces the marriage certificate from a folio in his case. 

The man scans the document, his frown deepening. “You got married yesterday?” His questioning tone raises the attention of others nearby.

Your heart leaps into your mouth as a face you recognise materialises from behind a glass office. It's Theo Sharpe - the young soldier Eloise met in the bistro a few days ago.

“Is there a problem here, Jones?” he asks with an official tone.

“These two just got married. I have concerns…”

Theo peers at Benedict and you as if assessing you as a couple.

“What sort of concerns? They look in love to me…”

“We have letters!” you pipe up, nerves jangling.

“Letters?”

“Love letters we have written to each other over the months.” Benedict takes over. “When war broke out, I had to come and rescue the woman I loved. And then I could not resist proposing. And yes, we married yesterday. Sirs, you likely know better than anyone - war brings clarity to a man’s heart like nothing else. I could not go another day without her being my wife…” his speech is reserved but impassioned, and when he is done, he tucks you under his arm, kissing your forehead. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eloise frown as he hands over your letters, and you do the same with his from your handbag. Theo takes the pile and unfolds them, his eyebrow rising at something in one from Benedict’s pile.

“Jones, tell me that is not the sign of a man in love,” he tilts the page to his fellow soldier, seemingly pointing to a particular line.

The man coughs and runs a finger into his collar.  “Oh… well… yes…” he seems to stumble, his cheeks heating.

What on earth did Benedict write?

“I think we can safely say they are a real couple, can't we?” Theo argues, refolding the letters and handing them back to you.

“Yes, yes, I think so…” the man agrees hesitantly.

“Well then, please issue the lady with the paperwork for residency,” Theo prompts, almost impatient.

You can barely contain the furl of excitement as the man dutifully grabs an official certificate and transfers your details, passing it under an embossing stamp and placing it inside your passport.

“Welcome to the United Kingdom, Mrs Bridgerton,” he smiles tightly as you see Theo shoot Eloise the briefest of winks behind the man’s back.

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, almost stunned into a quiet silence, as again you are in Benedict's strong embrace. 

“Well done, you were perfect,” he assures a few moments later as you walk up the ramp onto the ferry, his arms never having left your shoulders since. 

With reality finally setting in, relief and elation radiate from inside - like the sunny day seeping into your being, making you feel the lightest you have felt in weeks. You can't help the grin you shoot him and drop a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“All thanks to you,” you demure as you cross onto the deck, “I owe you my life.”

“You owe me no such thing,” he counters immediately and sincerely. “Your idea - the letters - that is what sealed your future. You are much smarter and stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he adds, his tone ardent, a hand tenderly cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your cheek. 

Again, you find yourself lost in his eyes.

“God’s sake, you can quit the mooning now, you idiots,” Eloise gripes and elbows Benedict unceremoniously out of the way, drawing you into a bear hug. “I’m so happy!” she chimes into your ear.

“Me too,” you reply, laughing joyously, hugging her back as fiercely.

“I may have planned for this,” she winks, withdrawing to pull a bottle of champagne from her bag with a flourish. 

And so, as the ferry pulls out of port and enters the English Channel, the three of you raise a toast to France as you watch the shoreline slip away. A kaleidoscope of emotions washing over you - a bittersweet farewell to your all-too-short French adventure, but also excitement and apprehension for the start of something new. A stay in England. And a new husband, well, sort of. For the first time, the future feels completely unwritten in a way that is freeing.

—

When you arrive in Portsmouth that evening, you immediately head for the stately Royal Maritime Hotel by the port. But there is a snag when you get to the check-in desk. The late hour and no reservation means only one room is left—with one double bed. 

“I will sleep on the floor,” Benedict offers, ever the gentleman, as you all accept the room, knowing it's likely a similar story in all the other hotels with this many people escaping mainland Europe.

After dropping your luggage, you all head to dinner, which becomes drinks in a local bar, all of you wanting the celebratory mood to last a little longer. You nurse just one drink while Eloise seems determined to drain the port city dry, tipsily wandering off to the little dancefloor in the back room. 

At some later point, while Benedict is at the bar paying the tab, Eloise returns, sidling up to your seat and loops her arms around you.

“You know how much I love you…?” 

“What do you want, Eloise?” you chuckle, patting her elbow as you let her sway you with her hug.

“I've met someone,” she whispers excitedly, her breath sweetened by brandy, “and I realllllly like him. His name is Phillip. He’s lovellllyyy,” she singsongs.

“That's nice. But what does that have to do with me?” you ask, amused.

“If I were to spend the evening with him, would that be okay? With you?” 

“You've never asked my permission to enjoy your previous dalliances, El; why now?” You are finding her thoroughly entertaining.

“Becaaaaause it means you will be stuck alone in a room with my brother,” she spells out. “And no woman should have to endure that,” she counsels with faux gravity, only mildly undermined by her comedic look of horror.

Your stomach vaults at the idea of a night alone with Benedict in a hotel room, but you must school your face to one of casual indifference.

“El, I shared a cottage with him last night; I think I can handle it.”

“Oh yes… and what in God's name was this morning all about?” she suddenly shifts the topic, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

You do your best not to choke on your sip of cocktail. “We saw you all coming up the path. Benedict thought it best for the ruse if we were caught in a compromising situation,” you bluff, waving your hand dismissively, even as you feel your cheeks glowing at the mere memory.

She side-eyes you momentarily but seems to accept it, giving you one more squeeze before bidding you goodnight. Her farewell to Benedict at the bar appears to be a smack on the arm and a warning with a pointed finger—ever the loving siblings. Then, with a flutter of butterflies under your ribs about the night ahead, you and Benedict head back to the hotel.

“Thank you again,” your tone is sincere as he unlocks the room. “If we had only known Theo would be at the port, maybe we wouldn't have had to go through all we did,” you point out wincingly, still apologetic, as he secures the door closed.

“We did what we had to. We were very fortunate he was there today; it was a wonderful coincidence, but we had to prepare for any circumstance. Besides, it is all water under the bridge now. You have your paperwork. You have your residency,” he points out brightly.

“But you had to marry me….” you point out, unable to let it go, guilt still shadowing your heart. “That was a huge sacrifice.”

“I am not the one who had to break a promise to another,” he counters softly. “You had to be the brave one here. You should not think of yourself as selfish. And you should feel free to pursue whatever you want in this world, y/n.”

Something in the choice of words in his heartfelt petition seems oddly reminiscent, but you cannot pinpoint it.

“I will still sleep on the floor,” he adds reassuringly, removing his coat.

“We… we could share…?” you feel your heart pound as you extend the tentative offer. 

The look on his face is indecipherable, but you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction. “I promise not to kick…” his response is a genial callback to your discussion days ago.

You giggle, feeling that lightness in your being again. “And if you do, I’m sure I could find plenty of rope to remedy that. We are right by a port after all,” you can't help but banter back, gesturing to the harbour outside the window.

His responding warm laugh is like a balm.

He excuses himself to shower, and while he is gone, you unpack some basics. As you are delving in your bag for your hairbrush, the pile of letters Benedict handed you spills out. 

Intrigued, you unfold them—curious to know what Theo had seen. The letters are a thing of beauty; you find yourself crawling onto the bed to read them properly. Pages of lyrically crafted praise that make your correspondence seem entirely lacking, more akin to a boring newsletter. You find yourself swept up in reading - lines of poetry, yearning sentiments and a few racier epithets that make your breath catch and your blood run hot.

‘Every night since we met, my love, I dream of nothing but you. Endlessly. I dream of your laugh, your smile, that wonderful little crease on your forehead when you think I am being foolish. You captivate me - body and soul. I dream of that delectable noise you make when I kiss you. I dream of tasting your skin. I dream of you coming apart in my arms, grasping me so tight you leave finger marks on my body. One day, my love, one day…’

You almost jump out of your skin when Benedict reenters the room, freshly showered, his hair in damp curls, sporting a distractingly fitted white t-shirt. You attempt to conceal what you are reading, embarrassed somehow, but it’s too late.

“I was wondering if you would,” he laughs softly when he realises.

“I’m sorry,” you utter, feeling as if you have snooped somewhere you should not have.

“Don't be,” he cuts in, smiling gently.

“How did you think up such poetic stuff?” you query, fingertips tracing almost reverentially over the words. A wistful ache in your being, hoping anyone would ever be inspired to write such an elegy to you one day.

“I just told the truth,” he shrugs.

“You must’ve been in love with whoever has made you feel like this in the past,” you sigh, standing up to put the letters aside on a table, feeling as if they definitely do not belong to you. Conscious of the slim band around your left ring finger, like a guilty weight stopping him from that possible life.

There is a long pause, making you look up at him. He is drawing near, something profound burning in his expression.

“You,” he breathes finally. “You inspired this in me.”

The confession knocks the breath from your very lungs, almost a need to bend double.

“Wh….” you cannot even find enough voice to finish a simple word.

He moves closer until you are almost touching.

“I heard you…” he admits softly, his fingers encircling your wrist, then bringing your hand close to his face. “Last night, when you thought I was asleep…” a plunge of utter dread in your stomach as you realise what he means. Your confession.

Oh no.

“Benedict, I….” but you can't finish. There is no end to that sentence, even in your quick mind.

“So I thought it was only fair you have mine,” he continues, a flicker of a modest but charming smile as he tilts his head to the pile of letters. 

Your eyes cut briefly to them before darting back to him.

“Y… you dream of nothing but me…?” you stutter, parroting one of the many memorable lines, a flicker of desire and hope and yearning so strong you can't help but ask.

His smile turns crooked. “Every night…” he confirms, eyes glittering.

“A-all of it?” you can barely utter it, your cheeks heating as you recall precisely what he wrote that he dreams about.

“Every word,” he asserts before his warm lips brush the back of your knuckles. 

It's like you are thrown into a hurricane, a hundred thoughts and feelings tumbling, making your breath catch hard in your lungs. But it all converges into one singularity as you stare up into those hypnotic eyes. An overwhelming need coursing through you. For him. A longing that is tart on your tongue and deep in your core. And you are powerless to do anything but grab his neck and pull him down into a searing kiss. 

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spitt @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[totallynotcoffeeturtle]

Kiss me under the milky twilight

Masterlist

(From the 6th to 30th April, I am having a mini 100 follower milestone event!)

Tags: Scaramouche x GN!reader, modern au, fluff Summary: Where Scaramouche celebrates Valentine's day with you, even if he's late.

Scaramouche pushes his glasses up while blinking tiredly. Not even the 10th cup of coffee can keep him up for any longer. The file and its blinking mouse begin to look like they are taunting him to no end with the tall pile of paperwork sitting beside him. He lets his forehead hit the desk with a ‘thunk’ while his eyelids shut under their own weight. The moment he is about to drift to dreamland, his own alarm wakes him up. Scaramouche looks at the clock on his cursed computer and is shocked awake. Fuck, he hasn’t prepared anything for you! It is already 23:00 on the 14th! He was supposed to buy the chocolate for you before the last store closed but of course his dumbass boss just had to dump more work on him. ‘You’re a great asset.’ He calls bullshit but he still needs money to buy you your favorite things. He groans. No matter how mean or rude he may act, he has never forgotten to buy you gifts on Valentine’s and any other occasion you like to participate in.

Scaramouche stands up abruptly, puts on his coat, grabs his wallet and clocks out. It’s okay to be late, he thinks, as long as he can get to you before the end of the day, even if there is only an hour left. At this time, only a convenience store would be open so he runs to the nearby Family Mart and looks at the various options under the clerk’s judging stare. And he understands because who even rushes to buy chocolate in a convenience store at 23:00?? Scaramouche looks at the many flavors before picking your usual favorite dark chocolate. He also quickly grabs your favorite tea, pays for them both and makes a dash for your shared home.

You stand on your balcony, fiddling with the little plant that you got from the local fair boredly. Scaramouche knows how early you often go to sleep so he would always go back on time but this is the first time you had to wait for him for so long. Even the fancy dinner you made got cold in the meantime. You pout and push against the succulent’s leaves until you hear rapid footsteps and the gate unlocking. You run down the stairs quickly, opening the door and bumping right into his chest in the front yard. Scaramouche huffs at your excitement despite his heartbeat increasing like a teenage boy in love. He shoves the gifts he got into your hands, “Sorry for being late. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow with something better.” You grins and hugs him tightly, “Don’t worry about that, just come inside. My gift is in the fridge, waiting for you, love.” He holds you tight and kisses you deeply, mumbling against your soft lips adoringly, “What will I ever do without you…”

A/N: This is kinda rushed and the ending is weird but happy Valentine's day~ i'll be suffering for 8hrs later but it ain't important rn Taglist: @amyminhminh (comment if you want to be tagged in future scara x reader posts <3)