been thinkin about a soft make out session with channie. he's been so stressed lately, and you noticed, so you decided to pay him a short visit one night while he was still working. you didn't expect things to end up this way—you straddling your best friend's lap while he's seated on the sofa in his studio, his arms wrapped around your body, holding you close. you're making out slowly, lazily, touching anywhere your hands can reach. he jolts just a little when you slip your hands under his shirt to feel his soft skin. "cold," he whispers against your lips, and you can't help but giggle. he simply looks up at you and doesn't speak for a long time, but the silence between you is extremely comforting. it's always like that with him.
it's like you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he looks into yours. you always make him forget. you always make things better, even by doing something as simple as looking at him. it's always like that with you. "baby?" he starts, and you hum softly, nodding to let him know that you're here, you're listening, he's got your undivided attention. he loves how easily you respond to that nickname, as if he's called you that all this time. and he loves you. he wants to say it so badly, and that little voice inside his head is practically screaming for him to do so, but he can't just yet. so instead he just shrugs, shaking his head and muttering a soft "nothing" as he puts a gentle hand on the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss.
he loves you, has loved you all this time, and although he can't bring himself to say it yet—because this all happened in the blink of an eye, and he's still trying to process whether or not it's actually real—he just hopes that the urgency in his kisses, the way he's holding onto you like you'll disappear at any moment, the way he looks at you... he hopes that, at least for now, that is enough to make you know.
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I'm actually so sad for Mason Mount rn. Like that England call up would've been so good for him bc he must be in a shit headspace atm ☹️
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Okay, but writing about ten year old Eddie Munson is breaking my heart a little bit. He just wants to be loved, and I'm making his parents shitty people.
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I’m seeing all the wholesome Dan meet and greet pictures and crying I wanna meet this man so bad
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