#key reminders on rainy days

[journalofmoonlight]

I like to see how slutty I can be on here before my irl friend texts me screaming.

The last time was last week when they proposed to me and said I am actually their soul mate and if my fiancé ever screws it up we should move to Ireland together.

So obviously we picked out a house.

[undercoverpena]

2. lemon twist

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter two of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.4k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie being a single!dad to a son. frankie gives reader/you a nickname (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: thank you so much for all the love on chapter one, and the bonus graphic. I'm so happy to bring you chapter two! also, WE'RE POSTING WEEKLY BABIESSS

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

A soft, melodic tune pulls you into the land of the living, aware of the tug of it, and the immediate reluctance you have to leave the comfort of your dreams.

Your hand hesitates, reluctant to emerge from under the snug warmth of your sheets before your fingers are tapping and searching, all sluggish with sleep, groping blindly as it crawls against the wooden top of your bedside table. It's only when your fingertips connect with the screen does the world fall into silence.

Nothingness. Stillness. Peace.

The perfect environment for your mind to come to itself as you slowly open your lashes, raising a balled-up fist to rub slumber away, as your gaze meets streams of light rolling in through the breeze-blown curtains.

Then it hits you.

Comes to you in a trickle. Then a flood.

One after the other, memories of last night rush over you. Messages sent and received coming to you, recalling the way you'd tucked a pillow under your chest as your thumbs replied quickly to each incoming DM. Then, you recall the giddiness, how it fluttered through you—how it still remains. Still ever-present and very much thrumming inside of you as you begin to smile.

It remains on your face as you roll out of bed. A brief memory of something he said making you laugh as you wash your face, and another when you brush your teeth.

That feeling stays with you as the sun glistens through your kitchen window. One which adds a glow to the place, making the little smoke stains on the walls and the chips on the kitchen counter seem better, less noticeable—and less irritating.

You smirk as you wrap your hand around your mug—because is it too soon to wish him a good morning? Should you wait for him?

Sighing, rolling your eyes, you land on the dresser you were sprucing up in the place a dining table should be. Your eyes linger on it—teeth picking at the skin on your lip—just as it does so each time you come in this room.

A reminder once again that this place should be a home you’ve been building for years, and not just the last few months. There should be photos on the walls of a relationship playing out alongside family and friends, but those ones placed in between are still just empty.

Like so much of your home.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you drop your stare to the newspaper under the feet of the dresser. The stories were told in black and white splotches over in many shades, dotted around as you tested and checked to see what would make the old, worn thing look like something new. The same thing you’d somehow managed to get delivered through a smile and a sweet, please.

You had been, for so long, undecided on the shade.

Yet, as you gaze upon it now, your imagination begins to weave a vivid portrait. It conjures the image of what it might resemble should you succumb to the shade that's gradually painting itself in imaginary strokes.

Sliding your phone from your pocket, you open up your DMs.

Does butterscotch orange come in a paint type suitable for wood? It does. You at work today? Desperate to see me? Just looking to help someone shift paint they can’t sell. What you looking to paint, Rainy?

Taking another sip of your drink, the warmth kisses your palm similar to the temperature blooming in your cheeks from conversing with him again.

Choosing, instead of words, to snap a photo, knowing it'll be easier, simpler.

Watching it send, the little speech bubble appearing as your mind drifts to the hair above his lip, the facial hair along his jaw—the little patch you’d wanted to graze your thumb over.

You think of the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles; when he’d looked pleased to see you in the paint aisle—something akin to a modern-day meet cute you see on the TV.

You coming in today? If I can… gives me something to do this afternoon.

You bite your lip, considering it—whether it’s too forward to make a flirtatious comment. The two of you skirted around it last night, practically river dancing—not quite stepping over, but not quite retreating either.

I’ll get you it ready at the main desk. My hero, Frank.DIY Don’t push it.

It’s the third visit you’ve made, and while you gloss over the paint chippings on the door, you do notice the circular stains on the floor.

They’re brown, smudged slightly at the edges as though someone has, at one time, attempted to clean (whatever it was) quickly after it had appeared. It’s clear they had failed.

Your eyes scan over it, for a moment forgetting anything and everything.

Just existing in today's scent, which happens to be singed wood—chippings of it practically in the air—as the sound of an electrical saw starts up and begins screeching in some distant corner until you hear your name being called.

And it silences everything.

That voice could pull you from anything, you think.

A crisis, your thoughts, a spiral.

You’d heard his voice plenty all last night as you watched videos of him hanging shelves, answering questions likely sent to him on how best to prime a wooden handrail, and still, you weren't sure you were sick of his voice.

That, and DIY had honestly never sounded so hot.

After the shortest walk to the counter, a brief hello, a grin you wish you could try and smother a touch, you’re leaning on the counter. His eyes focused on you, watching every move you make as though looking anywhere else would be a crime.

“You got a Sharpie there?”

Frowning, you feel you can breathe easier when his eyes drop to the counter—rustling around the till area as you rest your elbow.

“Because I forgot mine and I think I should ask for a signature this time.”

Pausing, he slowly lifts his chin, then eyes. “Funny.”

Shrugging, you grin, watching him ring up the tin—occasionally smirking to himself, before shaking his head as you pay, your phone vibrating on the counter that you continue to ignore.

“You gonna be alright with that?”

Scrunching your nose, you pocket your phone and tilt the can on the counter. “Painting a dresser or carrying this to my car?”

Something sparkles in his eyes, a little shimmer. His mouth opening, likely ready to spill nothing but charm and flirtation again, when another voice cuts through—one gruffer, more tinged in age.

“Francisco, what you d—oh, I see.”

Your smile remains, even as you stare up at the older man—the one with wiry whites and spotted greys you’d seen sitting behind the counter on the day you left to get coffee with Francisco.

It’s notable, how smaller, and thinner the older man is—how he moves like he’s pained by each step until he slumps into a chair and puts on the brightest and biggest of smiles before offering his hand.

“The name’s Harry.”

You look at it, only briefly, flicking your eyes to Frankie who looks like he’s wishing the earth would open up at his feet and swallow him whole. A somewhat twisted, forced blank expression and the mildest of eye rolls follow when your hand slips inside Harry’s, offering your name.

“Thought it was Harold,” Frankie says, rather bitterly.

“You have to call me Harold, but she can call me Harry.”

Smirking, you bite your tongue, rolling your lips as you smooth down your blouse—trying not to make any more eye contact with the man you’d really come to see.

Sliding the paint closer to you, you offer a softer smile, one that is nothing short of kind. “It was lovely to meet you Harry, and I’ll see—“

“—Rainy.”

His voice cut through as the can slid from the counter, the sudden acknowledgement of the weight showing—likely scorched across your face as your arm drags down, shoulder going with it, just about saving it from the ground.

It’s only as you look up, do you find Frankie half over the counter, spotting the key rings and cart tokens rolling around the floor—the stand on its axis from his sudden movement.

So, is Rainy my name now?

You caught that?

I did 😏

I wasn’t thinking.

I have to ask.

Here we go.

Do you always wear the hat or is it a Frank.DIY thing? And is it Frank or Frankie or the newly learnt Francisco?

Whats wrong with my hat? And Frankie and Morales were taken.

Morales your surname? I feel I’ve hit a sore spot.

Yes. And you have but you can make it better.

How?

Meeting me for a very boring lunch this week.

You’re really twisting my arm. Which is mean. You saw the stress my shoulder had to endure today.

I tried to warn you. I’ll let you bring your Pinterest board and your saved Reels.

I fear you just want me for my organisational inspiration.

Can’t help you decide if I’m the man for your project if I don’t know what you’re after.

Fair, I guess I can meet you for a business lunch.

Would you be more into meeting me for lunch if it wasn’t a business lunch?

It depends on what kind of lunch we’re talking about.

I’m very badly trying to ask you out on a date.

Oh, that’s what you’re trying to do.

Unless I’ve read this wrong.

Nope, read it perfectly. I guess I have to confess to you that I really would love to go on a brunch date with you, Francisco.

Lunch date. Let’s not get too romantic. Don’t want you to fall head over heels and visit where I work twice in two days.

Has Harold told you how hilarious you are?

It’s nice—the place he’s chosen.

All washed in bright white, yellow splashes and pastel accents. Plants adorn as much of the walls and ceilings as humanly possible, with guitar-infused music softly playing as the door clicks into place behind you.

It's so nice, in fact, you almost want to live here. To spend an infinite amount of time brushing your thumb over the leaves to see which ones are real and which ones are very good fakes. So pretty that it’s the kind of place that if you weren’t looking for him at a table, you’d snap a photo of it all and send it to a friend.

But, as soon as your eyes land on him, he's the only photo you want to take.

White t-shirt, with a dark shirt thrown over the top, still very much all broad-shouldered and wide chest as he smooths his hand down as he stands.

The hat, one that you'd assumed would be a staple, is all but gone, curls at odd angles as though his fingers have been teasing them—tugging and pulling as the ends slightly frizz—as he moves around the table when you approach.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he grins, hesitancy thrumming before he must question himself, snaps himself back into place from dragging his eyes up and down you.

Then, he’s moving, gently—enough time to register he’s moving to hug you, and plenty of time to politely decline.

But you don’t.

Allowing his hand to slide over your waist, delicate, very much cautious and all but respectful, at the same time as his breath flutters over your cheek. You almost turn your chin, wishing to all of a sudden curl into it before his lips graze your skin, lashes fluttering before you feel him moving back.

And, fuck, the scent of his aftershave is still washing over you in thick waves. It does its best to slide up your nose and make a home there as heat rushes to your cheeks.

You almost turn, almost catch the last bit of his lips, eyes focused on his, holding, burning them in as you find yourself unable to tear away from it. Two people, swirling, completely lost in only the other—the rest of the world fading to a muted shade, nothing compared to the hue he exhumes in the centre of brightness and pops of colour.

A thing you turn over, unable to stop yourself from stealing stares as he pulls out your chair, before joining you by sitting opposite.

“Thought this was a safe bet, wasn’t sure what kind of lunch person you were.”

“More of a brunch person, honestly.”

He smirks, flicking his eyes up, even if his head is tilted down at the menu.

“It’s very nice—not been here before.”

A brow arched, he smiles—shyer, the beginning of the dimple appearing before he casts his eyes back down.

“What do you recommend, Francisco?”

You don’t miss his snort, the way he sticks his tongue in his cheek as he gives you that look—one that makes you want to keep flirting and testing him all at once. One that makes you clamp your jean-covered thighs together, but secretly hope he notices you doing so.

If he does, he doesn’t show it. Instead, using his index finger to point at various parts of the menu, recommendations falling, rolling—a shimmer in his eyes at certain parts, that makes it easy when someone comes over to ask for your order.

You suspect it’s a favourite, the one you’ve chosen. Something is written into the way he holds your gaze before he stumbles over his words, practically trips, to say his.

It’s only when you’re alone, do you rest your elbow on the table—the coldness of it rising up your skin, rooting you—as you lean your chin on your palm. “So, do I get my Pinterest boards out now or…?”

“Funny.”

You bite your tongue as you smile, staring, admiring. “So, outside of terrorising a man in his own shop, running an Instagram, what does Francisco DIY do?”

Shaking his head, he takes a sip of his water—a bead collecting, remaining on his lower lip for a ridiculously long time, before the tip of his tongue casts it away, and sweeps it from your view.

“My… my friend fights—like MMA. He stopped for a bit, but now he…”

You wait, let it form—let him decide what it is he wants to tell you and when, and how. Sliding your feet out under the table, stretching as you relax into the chair, finding his eyes fixed, concentrated.

“I go to some of his training.”

“Good at DIY and MMA training? Starting to wonder why you’re single, Butterscotch.”

He laughs, soft, rich. “Just… haven’t been looking to date.”

Nodding, you let out a heavy exhale. “I wasn’t either.”

His lips purse, twitch to the side, a smirk half forming somewhere in his cheeks as he leans over, elbow resting on the table, foot catching yours under the table.

Mirroring you entirely as the two of you just stare. And, normally, it would be weird. Odd. But, it doesn’t feel it. If anything, it makes you want to commit each crease from his smiles, each wisp of hair along his jawline that crawls up his cheeks—the patch that could be traced with your thumb, an almost heart shape left, ready to be stamped with a pair of lips.

Your eyes only pull from it when your drinks arrive—when the moment is broken by the real world—as you lean back, let your eyes move to your server, thanking them as you take your drink. And then, the two of you are alone.

“Might change my Instagram name.”

Brows lifting, he pauses his glass close to his lips. “Oh yeah, what to?”

“Rainier Grey—makes me sound elusive.”

Snorting, he shakes his head, sipping on his water before placing the glass down close to your hand. Fingers brushing against it, a thing which makes your eyes flick over your screen.

“I dare you.”

“You dare me?” you say. “How old are you?”

“A man too old for dares.”

You brush your index finger over the back of his fingers, lingering on it, noticing the way they flex as you do as if battling to take your hand in his.

Even if you’re determined to go halves, Frankie’s insistence beats you.

All ‘Don’t argue with me on this, alright?’ said in a tone deeper, more serious than you'd heard to date. And, it's hard not to let heat lick up your spine at the sound.

Even if he’s giving you kind brown eyes as you hold your hands up in defeat.

Smirking, you watch him pay, spotting the picture in his wallet of a boy with a missing-tooth smile almost as big as the man in front of you.

“Alright Morales, but next time it’s my treat.”

“Next time?”

Smirking, you bite your lower lip as you stand, grabbing your things. “Think you’ve earned it.”

Each step to the door feels heavy, a fluttering in your stomach—a grin that can’t be wiped, barely doused when you say goodbye to the people behind the counter.

It grows wider when he gets the door for you, the cooler, outside air creating a vortex of his aftershave all over again (that you hope finds a way to bury itself into your skin) when he opens it.

It’s odd, almost insane—the giddy way you feel as the two of you walk to your car. His fingers are so close to brushing yours, the distance to your little vehicle becoming shorter and shorter as you desperately wish for another few blocks.

Disappointment flares, trying to scratch out the happiness inside your stomach as you pause at the car, trying to smile, but finding it difficult.

Rubbing the back of his head, you watch him roll his lips. “I had a great time.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nod, “Me too.”

“Won't have to wait long, you've promised me brunch.”

“Think I said I’d pay. But, if you want brunch, I’m down to blow your mind.”

You realise too late, mouth hanging open, the words hitting—landing in his ear as you watch him process them.

It’s sluggish, almost lagging, the way his face lights up, the way his eyes widen and his smile grows into something close to what you had across the small table—not tinged in any way by the upcoming goodbye.

“Well, if that’s—”

“Shut up,” you say, cutting him off, hand ready to push his arm, but you slide it around his waist.

Face close to his, bodies almost flush.

You watch him swallow, how his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he flicks his gaze from eye to eye.

Licking his lips, he smiles. “Can I kiss you?”

The moment you nod, he’s leaning—lips brushing over yours, fingers tightening on his waist as you move with him, all delicate, smooth, downright velvety as your other hand finds his neck. Feels his pulse against your palm, the warmth of him against your skin, before your lips part, deepening it, letting him have more, as much as he wants—

Then, he moves you. His palm meets your car, guiding you back until your spine meets the side of your vehicle, and he leaves another mark of him—thumb and four fingers—in the grunge the city throws at your car.

The other is the one he leaves pressed against your lips, all invisible, sweet and aching. Leaning in, your fingers find purpose on his neck, skating around, teasing a low curl as you lick into his mouth delicately.

All teasing, caressing, the arm around your waist tightening as the two of you remain almost flush against the car.

And it’s dizzying, all unexpected—but then, so is he.

More so, when you part—nose against nose, eyes opening to find his doing the same.

“I should…”

Your fingers slide, wiping his bottom lip before resting it on his chin, nail stroking against the hair there. “Okay.”

“I’d like to,” he begins, slowly stepping back, allowing cooler air to flow between where your bodies were pressed together, “Not wait to see you again—and, help you. With your project.”

Rolling your lips, you smile. “I’d like that too—both of them.”

“Alright.”

“Okay,” you smile. “Let me know.”

Nodding, he steps back up on the curb, hand wiping across his mouth.

You actually changed your handle.

Told you, I don’t back down from a dare

Guess I owe you one.

Can I cash it in at any moment?

As long as it’s appropriate, yes.

There goes my idea of daring you to strip in the shop and make out with a paint tin.

Have to just dream about that one.

Oh, I will Francisco.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Kirishima Eijiro

A/n: this took me way too long, so sorry for the wait 🥺🥺

Holy crap this is long.. hope you enjoy this madness <33

General info:

Genre: angst to fluff/comfort // WC: 2,516

Warnings!: Arguing, one sided argument, mean reader, insecurity, self hate, slight self harm (grabbing at hair), mention of bullies, crying, flinching, and a lot of apologizing. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

(it took forever to find this specific gif 💔)

"Y/n- I said that I was sorrry!"

"And I said I don't care anymore!"

"Y/n, please! You're being unreasonable!"

"I'm being unreasonable?! I HAVE ASKED YOU FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS - YOU ARE SUCH A-"

"Y/n, calm down, you don’t want to say something you'll regret."

"You suck. You're a pig headed, selfish, work obsessed, slobby, jerk."

Kirishima was silent as you insulted him, part of him feeling like he deserved it all.

"Okay, y/n, I understand that I screwed up. And I know that I can't make it all better overnight, but please. You can not drive right now."

"And why not? It's not like I'm under any influence."

"Y/n, it's dark and rainy. That, plus your anger- is a sure way to kill both of us. I can not live without you, Pebble."

"Do not call me that." You seethe, glaring up at your redheaded husband.

Heart aching, Kirishima desperately thought of a way to keep you here with him, not knowing how he would cope if he lost you due to some stupid argument about cleaning.

"J-just stay here tonight. You can sleep in our bed, and I'll sleep downstairs. I won't talk to you, and if you still want to go in the morning, I won't stop you. If you're still angry, Ochako can come pick you up."

Considering the idea, you huff as you cross your arms, glaring at Kiri.

"Fine.. but I have a few conditions. On top of not talking to me, you will not touch, nor look at me. Deal?"

"If you hand me your keys, deal."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Or at least put them somewhere visible."

"Fine, deal."

"Deal." Kiri agreed, shaking your outstretched hand.

~

After you walked in Kiri waited a minute or so before following pursuit, closing and locking the front door with a relieved sigh- simply happy that you agreed on staying here for tonight.

After picking up the living room and washing the dishes, Kirishima deemed it okay to go upstairs to swiftly get ready for bed.

As Eijiro thought about your side of the argument his heart started weighing him down with guilt.

He truly didn't mean to be such a jerk. He didn't think about how overworked and exhausted you were.

In his head, he was going above and beyond picking up after himself, doing the dishes every other day, taking out the trash, folding both his clothes and the fitted sheets, and cooking breakfast almost every morning. He didn't think about the other household chores, how much work caring for the house took, nor how long and hard you worked on top of the house.

You worked shorter hours then he did, that's true, but you still worked hard and desperately tried to be patient with him. For over a month you've been gently asking him to help out more or do this and that for you.

When you asked him to do a specific thing he truly did try his best to get it done as soon as possible. Pausing his game to take out the trash, setting reminders to switch the laundry on his days off, scrubbing pots and pans late at night, and watering the plants most every morning before work.

But he didn't understand when you asked him to 'do more', he thought that he was doing a lot more than average, totally forgetting to consider that you work too and he's not the sole provider.

You had gotten really annoyed with how much you did in the house and how little he did in comparison, and confronted him once again after he got home from work.

He was quite confused and defended himself, not really seeing your side of things. It took ten minutes of arguing back and forth to actually understand your side of things, realizing that due to you both providing you both needed to tend to the house.

Guilt consumed him as he attempted to apologize again and again yet you wouldn't let him talk. After twenty minutes of this one sidedness you got angry and stormed out, telling him that you were going to Ochako's house.

Even though Kiri felt extremely guilty, he was mostly relieved that you didn't leave in these conditions, knowing that he wouldn't be able to function if he lost you for good.

Kiri was snapped out of his thoughts due to the tingling feelings of his hands going numb due to the cold water pouring onto them.

Sighing, Kiri turned off the water before sneakily grabbing a spare blanket, his pillow, and a pair of pajama bottoms from your shared bedroom, refusing to look at you as he hurried out of the dark room.

After changing and settling on the couch Kiri simply stared at the ceiling, going over your side of things and realising how much he screwed up and what he could do to change and start to make it up to you.

~~

You jolted awake as a large crashing sound came from downstairs, hurrying out of bed, you readied your quirk in case of a villain.

"Ei..? Is that you?" You call, poking your head out into the kitchen.

"Yeah- sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay.. but what happene-" you froze as you saw Kirishima on the floor, shattered dishware surrounding him.

"Eijiro what the heck!" You exclaim, reaching out your arm to try and help the pro hero.

"I- I was trying to clean.. I'm sorry.."

At the word 'clean' memories of last night flooded your mind, causing you to drop your hand to your side, irritation flooding your senses.

"Oh, so now you're trying to make three months of neglectness and excuses better in one night?"

"N-no! Not at all! I just wanted to start helping out more!"

"It's three months too late for that Eijiro."

"You're being unreasonable-"

"No! What's unreasonable is you and your selfish laziness!"

"I'm trying! We're both new to living together and I didn't understand before!"

"Whatever. Just get up and go. I'll have to clean up and stop by the store before work."

"What- no! I'll clean it up!" Kiri exclaimed, jumping up from the ground, hardening his skin so he wouldn't get cut.

Shards of glass bounced off of Kiri's hardened skin, flying everywhere. Luckily, you were a pro hero, and had the amazing reflexes that came from that line of work. You dived down, avoiding the injury you would've received.

"Y-y/n! Are you okay?!" Kirishima exclaimed, rushing to your side.

Seeing the sudden movement you flinched, body still under alert.

After realizing what happened your heart dropped.

Oh no.

Kirishima was a gentle soul. He cared for you deeply and was always looking for ways to make your life easier and more enjoyable. There is no way he would take this lightly. He would definitely paint a wor-

You were snapped out of your thought process at the sound of a door closing. Panicking, you realized that Kirishima was xgonex.

"Ei!?" You call, hurrying to check for him in the living room, quickly realising that he left. Panicking, you hurry to slip on some slippers before making your way out the door, rushing to Kirishima's truck before he could pull out.

"Ei wait!" You exclaim, putting one hand on the handle of the truck and the other on his window. After looking down at you, he bit his lip before slightly opening the window so he could hear you.

"Go back in the house Pebble.." Kiri whispered, causing your heart to ache in dismay.

"Eijiro- what's wrong? I wasn't scared of you it was a reaction from the-"

"I don't care y/n. You flinched because of me- I- I need some time."

You could feel tears stinging your eyes as you stepped back, biting your lip as you watched Kirishima put the truck in reverse and slowly back out of the driveway, face heavy with hurt.

As soon as the red truck disappeared from sight you broke, running into the house before falling onto the couch, sobbing into a pillow.

The angered words you spat at your sweet, loving Eijiro flashed through your mind as you cried, guilt weighing you down as you remembered Kiri's heart broken face. Your mind started playing against you, shouting at you for your selfish, idiotic words and how you hurt the one person you cared most about.

'He didn't do anything!'

'You stupid little- he was doing his best! He apologized! And yet you treated him so- so horribly due to a few mistakes!'

'He really doesn't derseve you. He deserves someone as patient and loving as he is.'

'He was so heartbroken! You idiot!'

'I bet he's going to find somone better then you. I would't blaim him either.'

Tears rolled down your face as you sat up to stare at a picture of Eijiro on your wedding day. His red eyes were sparkling as he grinned at the camera, feeling nothing but joy and such love for you.

You two met in elementary school. You saved him from some bullies yada yada and instantly became friends. He was in third grade, you were in second. Your grade difference meant that you didn't get to play much, and so you thought of him as one of your temporary friends. The kind that you met at a park, played once, and then forgot about one another the next day.

But he was.. special. There was something about how the older boy's eyes shone when he looked at you, or how strong he seemed even though he was in tears frequently. You quickly found out that he was special. Even compared to your best friend, Sakura Mei.

You admired him for many reasons. For trying to be so strong even though the bullies' mean words brought him to tears, for how kind he wa -giving up his hard earned treat to a little toddler who wanted it at pick-up, sharing his lunch with a kid that was too late to get his own, having shorter turns so the next kid would get it sooner, and helping his teacher whenever and however possible.

You two became best friends and played with each other after school, causing your parents to create a long lasting friendship as well. For years you thought of him as your best friend, but a crush started to form in middle school, causing you to get confused.

Even when Kiri started to get self conscious and have a lot of self doubt, he was always by your side. Scolding you for having any of those thoughts, no matter how small. And so in return you helped him. Helping with training, bringing him food and water, reassuring him when he needed it, and even holding him as he cried. You were the reason he was able to recover so quickly, and afterwards he got into UA highschool, and you followed pursuit the next year.

After eight months of high school he confessed, and that was it. After you graduated he was there to cheer you on the loudest, and seven months later he proposed. The day of your wedding was full of joy, laughter, tears, smiles, and love. A love that made your chest ache in happiness, causing you to smile a little wider, kiss him a little harder, and fall in love a little harder.

Thinking back about it now, your tears came faster as an aching cold spread through your chest, causing the tears to fall faster.

"Eijiro.." you whimper, hugging onto the shark pillow Eijiro insisted on getting for your newly bought home.

It was crazy expensive, but he told you not to worry about it, and that it was "for our future famly".

"Ei.. I'm so sorry!" You cry, grasping your hair in your hands, tugging lightly but knowing not to hurt yourself or Kiri would be upest and worried.

Pawing for your phone, you unlocked the device before calling the contact "Bakubeast".

"What do you need." Bakugo huffed, causing you to whimper softly, catching the hot head's attention.

"Woah woah- do not cry. Crappy hair would kill me."

"I- I- E- Eijiro-" you rasp, having difficulty breathing and getting your point across.

"Hey hey- y/n calm down." Bakugo panicked, his softer tone helpig you calm down.

He was a good friend of both you and Eijiro, so him being kind to you really did help.

"Y/n/n, breathe."

Gasping for air you try to control your breathing, taking one deep breathe after another.

"Atta girl. Keep on breathing for m- for Eijiro."

Calm washed over you as you exhaled, sighing shakily.

"T-thank you." You whisper, causing Bakugo to scoff.

"Yeah yeah- now why are ya crying? Do I need to kicks some a-"

"No. It's me, not him. I'm wondering, is Ei over there? H-he left and I'm worried about him."

"No he hasn't. When did he leave? You do know that I'm like twenty minutes away, right?"

"That's true.. it's only been around ten.."

"I'll call you if he pulls up. But if you don't mind me asking.. what happened?"

"I'm sure Ei will explain.. I really don't wanna talk about it right now.."

"Okay.. well hang in there and call me if you need."

"Yeah.. okay."

"Have a better night, talk to ya later."

"Mhm.. bye.."

~~Kiri's pov~~

Kirishima felt like screaming.

Even though he knew that you weren't scared of him and it was just a reaction from the glass but it still hurt.

After pulling into his best friend's drive way, Eijiro quickly made his way to the door and knocked, wanting the hot head's opinion and seeking comfort.

"What happened to you?" Bakugo scoffed, opening his door as an invitation to come in.

"Can we.. talk?"

"If you make things right between you and your Cry Baby afterwards- then yes."

~~Your pov~~

You sniffled as you clung to Kirishima's pillow, eyes dry and puffy.

It's been an hour since Bakugo texted him that Kirishima was at his place, and you've been waiting for him to return or at least an update.

Your heart ached and you wanted nothing more than to be in Eijiro's arms and forget all about this horrid arugment. What if he didn't want you anymore.. what if-

You jumped out of bed as soon as you heard the door open, sprinting down the stairs to meet your Eijiro.

"Baby!" You exclaim, jumping into Eijiro's arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, you attacked his shoulders, neck, cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips with kisses.

"I am so sorry! I- I said so many mean things to you and- and-"

"Woah woah Baby- calm down." Eijiro cooed, catching your lips in a kiss to distract you from your worries. "I know.. and I forgive you, so.. could you forgive me?"

"Yes! Yes- I am so sorry for-"

Catching your lips in another kiss, Kiri sat on the couch, holding you in his lap as he kissed you, stealing both his and your complete attention.

Reblogs help spread and support my work therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated<33

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Tips <3

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

Sorry again for how late this was.. I hope it wasn't too long :(

[sleepyhutcherson]

You’d Love My Bed

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike comes home from his shift at freddy’s and crawls into bed with you.

contains: fluff, no use of y/n, childhood friends to lovers, youre abby’s babysitter, sharing a bed!! also this does not follow the movie plot or anything.

you watched after abby while mike was working at freddy’s, you didn’t mind, you were doing your best friend a favour. mike wouldn’t ever admit it but he was more relieved when you were watching abby, he knew how great you two got along and well you also somehow always managed to get abby to eat her dinner.

it’s nearly time for mike’s shift when you walk into his place, abby’s in the living room laid out on the floor, crayons and paper spread around her with the tv on. once she hears you, she immediately jolts up from the floor to greet you. “you’re back!”

“hi, abs.” you smile, the smaller girl giggling as she wraps her arms around you. you hug her back with one arm, “what’re you up to? where’s mike?” you ask, slipping off your shoes by the door and pulling your coat off once abby pulls away.

“he’s getting ready.” she hurries back to the living room and grabs something off the floor—a paper; to be exact—and brings it back to you. shyly, she hands you the drawing. it’s a picture of abby and you, sitting at the dining table with markers and paper sprawled around the two of you, each of you working on your own drawings. it’s such a familiar scenery to you that it brings a smile to your face. then your eyes spot mike in the picture, he’s standing by the front door, wearing his security vest, and he’s watching you and abby with a huge smile on his face.

“abby, this is really great.” you say, your eyes fixated on the picture in awe. you then return your gaze to abby, “i love it, abs.” you chuckle slightly and add: “you even added mike in his security vest.” you say teasingly, raising a brow at her, reminding abby of her fight with mike only a few days ago when she tried to nick her brother’s work vest.

she glares at you, though you can spot a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “don’t talk about that.” she tries to say in a serious tone but then breaks down into giggles. “okay, i’m going to hang this up on the fridge.” she says before running off.

“hey.” you hear from behind you. instantly, you recognise the voice; mike. you turn around, smiling at mike who’s dressed for work. “thanks for watching abby again.” he says with a shy smile.

“yeah, don’t worry.”

“hopefully she eats something.” mike moves to grab his coat and keys, making his way to the front door, and like every other day you follow him to see him off. “she will.” you say confidently.

mike chuckles softly at that, nodding his head. “she does listen to you more.” his hand is on the door knob but he lingers there like he doesn’t want to go.

you grin. “favouritism.” you tease causing mike to smile at that. he couldn’t deny how much happiness it brought him seeing how well you and abby got along.

“well, i gotta go.” he sighs, opening the front door to reveal a rainy scenery outside. “i…” he rubs the back of his neck; a nervous look on his face suddenly. “you can, uh, sleep in the room, you know?”

you smile at the offer. “thanks but it’s alright, i’ll leave her to her space. anyway, the sofa’s not too bad.”

mike clears his throat. “i mean you can sleep in my room.” he says with a tad bit more confidence now.

your brows furrow at this. “where would you sleep then?” you ask, aware how tired mike returned from freddy’s, always heading straight to his room to sleep for a couple more hours.

there’s a cheeky smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. “sofa.” he answers, a sudden flustered expression on his face but you don’t question it.

anyway, who were you to turn down sleeping in a warm, comfortable bed? “you sure?” you ask.

mike nods, stepping outside to the front porch. “yeah, you’d love my bed. better than the sofa at least.” he says, shrugging on his coat.

“okay.” you agree.

mike says his goodbyes, telling abby to behave before leaving and then it was you and abby for the next couple of hours. you watched tv together for a couple minutes before you prepared the two of you a small meal. you managed to get abby to eat all of her food—though now you owed her pancakes for breakfast. once the two of you were done eating you sent her to shower and get ready for bed while you picked up the kitchen and living room, luckily there wasn’t too much to clean.

once you’re done you walk into abby’s room where she’s already getting into bed with her teddy bear tucked in her arms. “do you want me to turn the lights off already?” you ask.

she yawns, nodding. “okay.” you make sure the blankets are covering her up well, not wanting her to get cold throughout the night. “good night abs.” you kiss her head before making your way out of her room, making sure to close her bedroom door only slightly, well aware abby didn’t like it fully closed.

you decide to go to bed then. you make sure once more that the front door is locked, turning off all the lights as you make your way to mike’s bedroom. the clock on mike’s bedside table reads 1:47am, tiredly you crawl into his bed, the warmth of his bedsheets quickly warming you up. you’re curled up around the bedsheets finding a comfort in that scent that lingers in the sheets, falling asleep to it.

with how comfortably you were sleeping you didn’t think anything could wake you but the sudden dip on the empty side of the bed forced your eyes open. before you can even react an arm drapes tiredly around your waist startling you. “sorry,” mike whispers, noticing he scared you. “you didn’t mention how uncomfortable the sofa was to sleep on.” his warm breath is hitting the back of your neck, his body pressed up against yours.

you relax, though you're a bit flustered having mike’s arm wrapped around you. “did you just get back?” you ask. mike nods, though you can't see him you can feel him nodding, that's how close your bodies were. you assume mike wants his bed to his own, probably exhausted from his shift so you attempt to sit up so you can go sleep a little longer on the sofa.

"where’re you going?" mike asks, grabbing your hand to stop you from leaving. his hands are cold but you can't bring yourself to pull from his touch.

"sofa." you reply, stifling a yawn. honestly, you weren’t fully awake, you eyes daring to close.

"no, stay." he implores, and thanks to the window that allows the moonlight to shine in, you can see the desperation in his eyes.

“okay.” you agree, being won over with his puppy eyes. this wouldn’t be the first time mike won you over with that look. you lay back down, mike making sure to wrap his arm around your waist again, pulling you closer to him. “you’re so cold.”

mike chuckles, his hand travelling to grab your hand. “warm me up then.” his fingers intertwined with yours, and unconsciously you place your free hand on top of the one that’s intertwined with your other hand hoping his hand would warm up between yours. there’s a significance to your sudden touch, it’s such a nostalgic gesture for the two of you.

after a few minutes mike speaks. “i missed you.” he admits tiredly, though you can hear a smile in his voice. before you can even reply, mike presses a light kiss on your shoulder, “i think i miss you every time i’m away from you.”

you smile at that. “i know what you mean.” you say. and truth be told you did understand completely. since you met mike you found yourself completely attached to him, always longing for him whenever you were apart, even if it was for a few hours. you turn around finally facing mike, your legs are tangled up with his, your faces mere inches apart.

his hand moves up to caress your cheek, a smile appearing on his lips. you giggle, both of you flustered suddenly. mike’s eyes scan your face, a smile on his lips as he looks at you, he always found you so beautiful. he moves forward to kiss you, and desperately you lean in immediately kissing him back. the kiss is soft and slow and you can feel mike’s smile in the kiss but it makes it even more precious if anything.

you both pull away after some time, mike’s cheeks a crimson colour now. it’s adorable how smiley and red he is right now. mike kisses your cheek, he pulls you closer to him, your head buried in his chest now hearing how quickly his heart is beating. “let’s stay like this forever.” he says with a hint of fatigue in his voice. you laugh a little, kissing his jaw.

before he allows himself to doze off he whispers: “i told you you’d love my bed.”

[nsfwgyu]

knee socks | c.bg

beomgyu x afab reader

genre smut, fwb to ??

word count 2.1k

🎶 arctic monkeys - knee socks

txt x arctic monkeys series 1/5

This past winter had fucking sucked for you. You'd lost your dream job when the company you worked for collapsed. You hated winter as it was, and depressingly dreary days weren't helping. The early December days were dark and long, but you really tried to get back out there, searching for any jobs in a similar sector to you. After a day of job hunting, you'd returned home to find your boyfriend in bed with your sister. Not exactly ideal.

Naturally, you withdrew from everyone and mostly stayed home. Staying up through the night to watch shitty reality shows and sleeping in until the afternoon. Your savings would last you a while before you desperately needed a job again so you decided to make the most of it and be the recluse you'd always dreamed about becoming.

Your only ‘company’ was your attractive neighbour Beomgyu, who you'd occasionally bump into when getting your mail. You’d pad out into the hallway with your knee socks and oversized hoodie, trying to shield your face when you realised you weren’t alone in the hall. Beomgyu would just give you a small smile and a wave, but would never pry. You were sure your situation was pretty obvious to him and you appreciated that he didn’t feel the need to remind you of it.

When the new year approached, you decided it was time to get out of your lonely state. You'd reached out to some of your old college friends who you knew were party animals and then it was every other night you were heading out with them. Drowning your sorrows with tequila, rum and whatever liquor you could get your hands on. You’d flirt harmlessly here and there but none of the guys seemed to help take your mind off your situation. You needed a good stress reliever, and you weren’t going to get it from just anyone.

Pulling up outside of your apartment building, you stumbled out of the taxi for the nth time that month. Tipping the driver way too much, you headed to the door but your inebriated state made you unable to navigate the key code to enter the building. You cursed under your breath as you swayed and attempted the code again only to be declined entry a second time.

"Need some help there?" You turned to see Beomgyu stood behind you with a smile. You blushed, the embarrassment sobering you up slightly. "Thank you", you replied biting your lip. You were so humiliated for your cute neighbour to see you in this state, but again grateful for his 'I’ll mind my own business' attitude.

You were certain you looked a right state, boots in hand and exposed thighs red with the January chill. The rain drizzling down soaked your hair to the sides of your face. Thank god for Beomgyu being in the right place and time to save you from the rainy Tuesday night.

Beomgyu took a step closer to you, holding his umbrella over the both of you to stop the rain from further soaking you. As he reached over to type in the building code, you found yourself admiring him and his handsome features unabashedly in your tipsy state. The scent of his cologne intoxicating. He turned back to you, not breaking eye contact as he gestured downwards.

"Cute socks."

Flash forward to 10 minutes later and here you are, back pressed against the inside of Beomgyu's front door. Your body held up as Beomgyu essentially pins you against the wall with his hips holding you up. Your lips were all over each other, heated kisses being placed wherever they could reach.

You didn't want to waste a single second, but it seemed Beomgyu had other ideas, taking his time to caress and stroke your body. The touch made butterflies swarm in your tummy. Feelings. You couldn't be having those. You grabbed Beomgyu's face and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, hands desperately reaching down to open his trousers and reach his hardening member.

He couldn't find the urge to resist now when you squeezed his cock through the thin material of his boxers, his head falling back as he let out a low growl against your skin.

Your dress rode up and exposed your ass as Beomgyu held you in his toned arms, fingers snaking into your underwear to stroke between your legs. He had a cocky smirk on his face at the state of your wetness, but decided to bite his tongue and not comment on it - he was just as needy as you were after all. He was quick to pull your underwear to the side and take you then and there against the front door. You let out a sharp gasp at the way Beomgyu felt filling you up, the ache from not being prepped oddly pleasurable.

He fucked you feverishly, hot breath fanning over your neck as he panted in exhaustion. The grasp he had on your ass was sure to leave bruises, but you didn't care. You just wanted to forgot everything that had happened this past month, you just wanted to feel Beomgyu and nothing else. Feel his thick cock pounding into you. Feel his hot breath on your neck. Feel the grip of his fingertips on your skin. Over and over and over again until your mind was only full of him.

It was a nice distraction.

And that's how it all started.

It was like Beomgyu was a medicine, curing your January blues. Things still weren't great. Still out job searching, still constantly reminded of your ex boyfriend and sister's relationship whenever you'd speak to your family. One thing that had certainly improved was your drinking, not feeling the need to go out and drown your sorrows with booze, instead your reprieve was in the arms of your neighbour.

It continued this way for weeks. Casual hookups occurring in the dead of the night so not to alert anyone to your situation. You just didn't want anyone knowing about this. It wasn't as if you were embarrassed of Beomgyu, you were just embarrassed by yourself.

There was supposed to be no emotional attachment. Just casual, you couldn't afford to get too attached. But what the fuck was happening? Your heart was softening for him.

Tossing and turning in your bed, it took you hours before you finally gave up on sleep. You knew what was needed in that moment and it didn't take you long until you were on your phone and sending a text to Beomgyu with the two words that seemed to be a regular occurrence these past few weeks.

"You up?"

Barely a minute had past before the chime of your phone confirmed his response.

"Doors unlocked"

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

It was usual for Beomgyu to wake up to an empty bed after spending the night with you, as if you were scared to be seen with him in the morning light. That’s why he was so shocked when he awoke to the smell of eggs drifting in through the bedroom door and the sound of soft singing.

He made his way out of the bedroom cautiously, not wanting to startle you. He leaned against the doorway and admired you for a few moments in your innocent state. Clad in just one of his blue shirts and your trademark knee highs, your hips swayed as you sang one of your favourite songs. He was content watching you in your happy state, but wanted to have his hands on you.

"Mmm something smells good," Beomgyu mumbles in his sleepy state, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling himself into your neck. He didn’t want to comment on the fact that you were still here, afraid he’d scare you off like a deer in headlights. It was nice. He’d wanted to spend more time with you, but it seemed clear to him that you didn’t feel the same due to you always running off long before he woke up for work. He didn't want to lose what the two of you had (whatever that was), so was happy to just go with what made you most comfortable.

“Well, I tried making you an omelette, but it hasn’t seemed to go very well,” you poured and he peered into the pan. Personally, he thought they looked more like scrambled eggs, but his nose scrunched up as he smiled at your effort. He reached round and kissed you on the cheek softly and you froze.

"Beomgyu, I... think we need to talk-"

Beomgyu's heart pounded, he couldn't lose you, not now.

"Can we talk later?" He muttered against your ear as he gently nibbled on your lobe, making you weak at the knees. You nodded, easily swayed as he continued his ministrations down your neck causing you to let out little moans. After quickly reaching over to turn off the hob, he'd hoisted you up upon the kitchen counter, standing between your knees as he stroked them and played with the hem of your socks.

“Keep the fucking socks on,” Beomgyu growled, grazing his teeth against your neck and taking little nips, basking in how your body was responding to him. He gripped onto the underside of your knees and pushed them towards your chest, exposing your core to him. He situated himself snuggly between your legs, clothed cock gyrating against your thin undies.

Desperate. That's the only way you could describe the current situation. Mouths on each other like you were starved. Hands grabbing any part they could get their hands on. Every part of the two of you was pressed together and it was intoxicating. Beomgyu brought his hand up and tangled it in the back of your hair, bringing your mouth to him to envelop you in a passionate kiss.

You were both too needy to get undressed, only pulling back for a second to pull down his boxers slightly until his hard cock sprung out. You didn't waste a second, taking him into your hands and pumping him, needing to make him feel good. Needing him to know how good he'd been making you feel these past few weeks. His moans were so addicting. You swore you'd never heard something so sexy in your entire life.

"Need you now," you breathed out against his lips and guided him towards your core. He nodded and sunk into you, the both of you stopping to bask in the feeling for a second before he pulled back and began to drive his cock into your needy heat.

Your request to talk to Beomgyu was now long forgotten, your mind just filled with the rhythm he was fucking you open with. Mind dizzy with nothing other than thoughts of him. Your fluttering eyes opened to observe the beautiful man in front of you. Sweat gradually forming at his hairline as his fringe hung in his eyes. Chest rose and fell rapidly from the effort he was exerting. You swore you had never seen something so beautiful and sexy in your entire life.

Beomgyu’s eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to keep his erratic thrusts regular, balls slapping against your skin as he longed to get you to your peak. He was holding you up now, your body too weak from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. Your hands slid up the back of his loose fitting t shirt and took perch around his shoulder blades, nails digging into his skin in hopes to lose yourself in Beomgyu. He hissed with the pain but that only served to make him pound into you harder.

Bruising grip digging into your hips as he directed your body to meet his thrusts. Your head rolled back as you felt him hit that sweet spot inside of you that had you seeing fireworks.

Desperate moans of each others names were all you could communicate as you reached your high, the tightening around Beomgyu driving him closer to his own release. He continued to fuck into you slower now, not wanting to overstimulate you but being so close himself. The deep, measured thrusts helped ease you down from your high as his hips stuttered and he finished inside of you.

The sounds of your laboured breathing was all that filled the air as your bodies started to recover. When you were back down to earth and able to open your eyes again, you saw Beomgyu watching your face and trying to gauge your reactions. Neither one of you said a thing, but the silence spoke volumes; you didn't want this to end, nor did he.

"y/n, are you free today?"

He played with your fingers nervously, not able to make eye contact.

"Yes.”

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

A/N so I started this trash 5 months ago and only just finished it 🙃 maybe expect the other 4 members sometime before 2050??? thanks

[rileyslibrary]

Meal, Under-the-Stars

Summary: Simon’s inability to show affection irritates you. Until Valentine’s Day arrives.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,360

Notes:

angst/fluff

*sighs* it’s almost Valentine’s so *gestures aggressively at the fic*

i made sure it’s the least amount of cringe, pinky promise

Want more?

———————————————————————

You collapse in your bus seat, travelling home after another long day at the office. The chair feels too stiff, and the ride is too bumpy. That’s what you get for missing your bus and taking a different route. Damn it. Your neck is tense from the hours of hunching over the computer, and a pulsing pain has settled behind your eyes, threatening to rip your skull apart. As if your physical agony wasn’t enough, the bus’s noises aren’t helping. Without your headphones, you’re left to suffer in silence and listen to the people around you.

The two women in front of you talk nonstop about their upcoming Valentine’s Day plans. The first, with a smug look, reveals how her boyfriend has planned a romantic getaway to Europe. You can almost hear the silent “aren’t I lucky?” that hovers at the end of her sentence. Her friend humbly brags back about her partner taking her to a jewellery store where she can pick out whatever she wants. You suppress a groan and roll your eyes instead.

You turn to your left. Your attention is drawn to a man whose face is concealed by a towering bouquet of flowers. The sight of him and the enormous gift next to him makes you wonder. Could it be chocolates? The package seems too bulky for that. Lingerie maybe? It looks too heavy for delicate lace. Perhaps it contains the embodiment of his love for his significant other, ripped from his soul and transformed into a tangible form, you ponder sarcastically.

The image of Capitalism, dressed in a three-piece tailored suit and hat, sitting on a throne made of kitschy teddy bears, comes to mind. He sips a glass of wine made from rose petals and sneers at the spectacle before him: people spending their hard-earned money on unnecessary gifts and experiences, all in the name of love. When did a simple and sincere “I love you” become insufficient? When did it become necessary to spend a fortune on extravagant trips, sparkling diamonds, and wrapped boxes filled with empty promises? Did your grandparents go to such lengths to express their affection, or is this just the plague of your generation?

And why does this all bother you so much? Could it be that Simon’s inability to express his affection for you is causing your bitterness? You recall Aesop’s fable about the fox and the grapes. Like the fox, you cannot grasp what you want, so you try to convince yourself that what others have is, like the grapes, sour. Admit it: you’re envious of those who are happily celebrating Valentine’s Day, surrounded by love and affection, while you’re on your way home to a strained relationship, where love is shown through practical acts like fixing the thermostat or reminding you to take an umbrella on a potentially rainy day.

You knew he was reserved and guarded the moment you met him. “A mystery wrapped in a balaclava”, you used to jokingly call him. It took months of building rapport and earning his trust before he finally revealed his face to you. But, despite this, you find yourself wanting more. Wasn’t this enough? Get a grip, sweetheart; Valentine’s Day is for the rest of the world, not you two.

As the bus pulls to a stop, you rise from your seat and step off, feeling heavy and reluctant as you make your way home. The weight of your expectations slows your pace as if you are afraid to face reality—that the love you seek may not be the love he is capable of giving...

You reach the front steps, the cool metal of the key turning in your hand as you unlock the door. You push it open, the emptiness inside greeting you like an old friend. Something on the floor catches your attention; military bags and tactical gear are neatly arranged near the entrance. You look across the kitchen table to see a map with checkmarks on it. Has he been summoned for a mission and forgotten to tell you? No, it cannot be; this is far worse than you expected.

As you make your way down the hall, the noise coming from the bedroom fills the silence. The door is slightly ajar, and you push it open to find him standing before you, freshly showered and wrapped in a crisp white towel from the waist down. Droplets of water cling to his damp hair, with strands hanging over his forehead. His towering stature is imposing, his muscles resembling those of a Greek statue carved by a master artist. Like faded memories of battles fought, scars are dotted across his body, each telling a tale of modern warfare.

He smirks as you enter the room, but you can’t help the flare of anger that rises within you.

“You’re late,” he says, continuing to dry himself.

How dare he.

“Traffic,” you respond, trying to steady your voice. “Where are you going?”

“We are going,” he corrects you nonchalantly.

Huh?!

“W-we?” you stammer. “Simon, where are we going?”

“Out,” he says with a smirk.

You frown at him. You’re exhausted—tired of work, tired of the long trip back home, tired of his mysterious demeanour. You need answers—complete, coherent, straightforward answers—and you need them fast. Now.

“Care to explain further, Simon?” you ask, trying to compose yourself.

“We're going camping,” he says as he starts putting on his gear.

Your heartbeat quickens. Suddenly the grapes are not sour anymore. They seem sweet again.

“So, camping, huh?” you ask with a cheeky grin. “Why?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he says sternly. “I’ve seen enough atrocities to know what today is.”

“You never struck me as the romantic sort, Mr Riley,” you reply.

“Oh, but I am romantic, my love,” he corrects you. “Just not the cliché type.”

But, of course! That’s why you fell for him in the first place. He’s not your typical guy. He may not serenade you, but he’ll fix things with his own hands. And he won’t kneel on one leg to recite poetry, but he’ll ensure you’re warm, safe, and fed.

Fed. Food. Did he think about food?

“I’ll prepare something quick to take with us,” you tell him.

“No need to,” he replies. “I’ve prepared an outstanding variety of MREs for us.”

What a guy.

“What about me?” you ask pointing at his gear. “I don’t have the appropriate clothing for this.”

He looks amused. “That’s weird,” he comments. “I’m sure I saw something at the entrance earlier today.”

You stare at him, confused, dash to the front door, and inspect the gear you saw earlier. To your surprise, it’s all your size.

You slip into the gear, feeling its weight and texture against your skin. The material is rugged yet flexible, allowing you to move easily. You run your hand over the pockets, checking to ensure everything is in place, before returning to the bedroom.

As you enter, Simon looks up from his bag, and his gaze travels down your form. You stand tall and proud; sure, you’re still tired and in pain, but at least you’re happy. You twirl for him to get a better look.

He nods his approval with a smile. “You look like a proper camper,” he says jokingly. “I had no idea you had it in you.”

“Come on, Simon!” You shout, fists clenching at your sides as you stand in the doorway. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” you implore, your voice growing softer. “At least say something nice.”

He regards you, his lips curling upward in amusement. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “You want something nice?” He asks, and you nod, smiling.

“You got it.” He steps closer, towering over you, and gazes down with warm and tender eyes. “You look beautiful,” he says. “Absolutely stunning.”

———————————————————————

[ferrstappen]

love love love your work 🥹

can we get some Carlos love with “and whispering in their ears, “i love you,”

please and thank you!

a/n: hello lovely anon! thank you so much and yessss omg my first Carlos request <3

prompt: and whispering in their ears, "I love you"

i will do whatever you want l Carlos Sainz blurb

Another Saturday, another disappointment.

At least, to give your boyfriend's team some credits, the day of the weekend didn't matter, you didn't really expect results now, you just made sure your boyfriend was alright, smile not fading and spirit not wrecking.

But it was so hard. Almost impossible when he felt so helpless, desperate, his chest filled with different emotions wanting to leave him, his lungs filled with air, waiting for the moment where Carlos decided to let himself be heard.

Now it was rainy Canada, all by himself, waiting for your arrival for race day, aware you didn't see the qualifying since you are flying across the ocean from Madrid.

The hotel room was quiet but the voices inside his head were loud, too loud.

You don't have a secured spot for next year.

You are mediocre.

You belong in the midfield.

You're only here because of your family.

They were so loud and his eyes were so fixed on the foggy window, he didn't listen the clicking noise of the hotel room opening with a key card, his ears didn't warn him of your soft steps walking towards him on the big rented room.

"What's on your head, handsome?" You asked Carlos and were surprised he didn't jump.

He didn't jump, didn't flinch. The only thing you noticed was his back rising, neck relaxing, taking a deep breath before facing you.

His brown eyes closed tightly, waiting for your arms to embrace him, cover him, protect him.

You could feel how your boyfriend's eyes were heavily closed, chest constricted, arms tight around your waist.

Nothing mattered, you were with him, tracing his thick and disheveled hair with your hands, softly and reassuringly kissing his neck, reminding him you were right there.

Leaving a soft kiss behind his ear you reminded Carlos the voices inside were fake, didn't matter, "Mi amor, cariño... Te amo, ya va a pasar y voy a seguir aquí contigo, siguiéndote a donde sea que quieras ir,"

My love, sweetheart... I love you, it's all going to pass and I'll still be here with you, following you wherever you want to go.

Carlos took in the words, melted in your embrace and faced you, putting his hands on your cheeks before kissing your lips.

"Vamos a acostarnos, que se nos hace tarde y no hemos visto el último episodio de Succession," Carlos told you and made you smile, eyeing the king sized bed with fluffy pillows, cozy blankets, picturing your frame supported by Carlos back, with one arm around your waist and the other pointing at the TV in disbelief, his breath tickling and comforting you.

Let's go to bed, it's getting late and we haven't watched the last episode of Succession.

[wildsupernova]

too sweet.

summary: she was too sweet for him, everybody knew that. still, he couldn’t stay away, and neither could she, even when the sugar made his head spin and the bitterness burned her throat.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

warnings: brief mentions of sexual content, nothing too serious really

word count: 900

a/n: hey! just wanted get something up while i work on some longer pieces. i’m currently finishing up my second semester of my second year of college, so i haven’t had time or energy to write much of anything lately. figured i’d write a little blurb when i got the time to keep the content coming for you guys. anyway, hope you enjoy! hopefully new longer content will be coming soon. if you enjoy, leave a like, reblog, or a comment, whatever, any little bit of engagement helps. :)

masterlist | prompts list

She was too good for Steve, everyone knew that. She was a delicate, well groomed rose bush and he was the patch of weeds that grew in her planter box, stealing every last bit of water from her until her leaves turned brown and fell from her stem. He wasn’t someone a girl like her should ever be associating with, but something kept him coming back to her, and her to him. 

They didn’t speak in school, sharing stolen glances from across the hall, soft stares that turned desperate when they were filled with memories of two nights ago. To Steve’s friends, she was nothing more than a conquest, and to hers he was nothing more than a walking red warning sign telling her to run the other way. To each other, they were something they couldn’t quite name, unsure if it was love or boredom or something else entirely. But boredom wouldn’t have you running back to someone like this, wouldn’t have you lying awake thinking about them and your heart racing every time you shared a glance. 

He was the type to fall asleep when the sky was dark and wake long after the birds had already started singing, and she never crawled in or out of bed any later than the sun. He’d tried to see her once, crawl through her window after every streetlight had flickered on, but she hadn’t answered his taps on her window, duvet blocking out any sound that might disturb her early sleep. Two mornings later and he’s woken from his own sleep by the ringing of his phone, her sweet voice begging him to watch the sunrise with her at Lovers Lake. He had complained and told her it was far too early, but when she told him she got up that early everyday he simply laughed and grabbed his keys from the bedside table.

He asked her once if she’d ever thought about sleeping in, or staying out late to watch the stars around a bonfire. She’d shook her head, told him routine was what she needed, that she could get the most out of her day if she went to bed early, but that same night she’d made it back home long after the moon took its place in the sky, hair frizzy and skirt twisted sideways. 

She reminded him of when he’d drank a Screwdriver for the first time, far too sweet for him to handle without his head spinning, but giving him enough of a buzz that he couldn’t stop sipping it. He reminded her of the single sip of her father’s whiskey spiked coffee, the kind that turned her tongue bitter and burned her throat on the way down, but had her heart racing all the same. 

He always laughed at the way she’d scold him for his dirty mouth. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a single ‘bad word’ come out of her, and everytime one came out of him, she was quick to smack him on the shoulder and tell him off like a mother. She kept her body guarded, rarely letting his hands wander too far until it was two hours later and she was desperate for them to be anywhere else but on her face. He started to wake up earlier just to hear the birds sing about her. 

He started seeing her in everything. In the rainy days where the sun was still in the sky, the soft patter of raindrops hitting his window sounding more and more like her laugh every time. He saw her in the wisteria vines that climbed the trellis in his mother’s garden, in the sip of wine he stole from his mother’s glass. He told himself he could wait a few years until he didn’t burn so much, until he became a better man who could handle how sweet she was. She told him she didn’t mind the burn, didn’t mind the bitterness, but if he wanted to wait until he was smoother for her, she could do that. She could wait.

2 years later and she's still just as sweet, smooth like an aged bottle of wine but with that small bitter hint you don’t really notice until you’re two glasses in. He’s smoother, like the shot of bourbon sitting next to her on her kitchen counter, but he still burns just enough for her to recognize him. She downs the amber in the glass and tells him she can handle the burn, and he tells her that sweet still makes his head spin, even after all this time.

Suddenly he’s the one waking before the sun, slaving away over an oven and a glass of wine left out from the night before, birds singing the same song they used to years ago. He’s in bed by sunset because she’d pulled him to the bedroom by the arm, lips lingering on his skin in the same way he used to linger on hers. He finds himself watching his language and she lets a few dirty words slip now and then, and her hands move his lower when she gets tired of them on her waist. He still sees her in the rain and the roses outside of his apartment, down to the small thorns hidden just beneath the beautiful crimson petals. She sees him in the thunder storms and the dandelions, beautiful and dangerous all the same. 

Suddenly, Screwdrivers aren’t too sweet for him anymore, and whiskey doesn’t burn her throat quite like it used to.

[neverchecking]

Cinder's Masterlist

*Reminder that this blog is in fact a Yandere blog!*

˚ ✦ My Rules -> Here!

˚ ✦My navigation -> Here!

˚ ✦The Links -> Here!

Key:

Fluff:💝

Angst:💔

Hurt/comfort: ❤️‍🩹

Smut/NSFW: ❤️‍🔥 (All NSFW is tagged as 'Cindersins'!)

Headcanons:💖 

Dark(er) content: 🖤

My personal favorites:💚

Time:

Anything🖤

˚ ✦Just how far is the Hero of Time willing to go for you?

Fairy Boy❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Time rewards you for always being there. What better reward is there then his children? (Breeding Kink, Sub! Time)

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

NSFW Alphabet❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦What it says on the tin <3

Twilight:

Good Doggy❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Twilight shows just how good he can be (Sub! Twilight)

Muddled Thoughts❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦With some altered affects form the Muddle Bids, Twilight shows you exactly what he wants (Breeding kink, Dom! Twilight)

A Rainy Day❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦After being caught in a rainstorm, you're left with limited options to keep warm. Twilight has a few. (Cockwarming)

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Big Bad Wolf and His Teeth❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Twilight finally understands what about danger excites you so (Knife play)

Lion's Heart💖

˚ ✦How does this Hero react to a Lynel hybrid?

NSFW Alphabet❤️‍🔥💖 💚

˚ ✦What it says on the tin <3

Sky:

Divine Temptation❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Hylia's chosen hero is tempted from Skyloft~ (Sub! Sky)

Welcome Home❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦Sky shows you just how glad he his that he's home. Even if it's just for the night.

Crimson Feathers ❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦What if Sky's Loftwing could shape shift into a Hylian?

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Butterfly Kisses 💖💝

˚ ✦This Hero finds the child of King Rauru and Queen Sonia...Who are no longer around. Well, you know what they say. Finder's keepers. (Platonic! Dad! Heroes!)

Warriors:

Tell Me I'm Pretty ❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦How far can some pretty words get you with the Captain? (Praise kink)

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Butterfly Kisses 💖💝

˚ ✦This Hero finds the child of King Rauru and Queen Sonia...Who are no longer around. Well, you know what they say. Finder's keepers. (Platonic! Dad! Heroes!)

Legend:

The Cheaper Things in Life💖 💚

˚ ✦Legend would lay down his life, and the lives of others, for you. He soon finds out that you would do the same.

Chicken ❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦You and Legend play your own version of Chicken (Cockwarming)

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Hyrule:

Thinking of You❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦The Traveler gets a peak into Reader's thoughts. (Sub! Hyrule)

Wild:

Lost and Found❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Wild figures out just how to keep you tied to him (Breeding kink)

His Home❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Wild learns just how little you actually have to do to turn him to putty (Premature ejaculation, Sub! Wild)

The Champion of Masks 💖 

˚ ✦BotW! Link, and champions, with a Reader who has the Masks from Majora's Mask

Do You Hover on a Chair? ❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦Wild offers you a seat. (Face sitting)

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

A Tick ❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦He had to prove he was better. Needed to. Even if he needed to use some unconventional methods to do so. (Threesome, Ft. Sage!)

NSFW Alphabet❤️‍🔥💖💚

˚ ✦What it says on the tin <3

Fours a party❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦ He's going to continue using those unconventional methods to prove he's the best. Even if now there's more than one opponent. (Foursome, Ft. Cal and Sage!)

Four:

Handling the Heat❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦Four sees just how much heat he can handle (Slight sub! Four)

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Hypnotic❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦four figures out just how quiet you can make the voices in his head (Hypno kink)

Butterfly Kisses 💖💝

˚ ✦This Hero finds the child of King Rauru and Queen Sonia...Who are no longer around. Well, you know what they say. Finder's keepers. (Platonic! Dad! Heroes!)

Wind (Platonic):

˚ ✦Nothing yet!

Sage (TotK Link):

TotK Link💖 

˚ ✦The first introductions of Sage

The Switch💚

˚ ✦Reader gets separated from the Chain with nothing but their switch and just so happens upon a certain someone.

A Rusted Link💖 

˚ ✦Sage's place in the chain isn't as smooth as the other's.

'Tis the Season❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦After being reunited with his dragon lover, Sage proves that he can handle Mating season (Breeding Kink)

The Dragon's Daughter❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦When faced with the once lost Daughter of King Rauru and Queen Sonia, he realizes that maybe there is a reason to save Hyrule. (Breeding Kink, Baby trapping)

Rattled Chains💖 

˚ ✦Sage finally interacts with the rest of the chain. He's not happy.

Putty❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦Sage laments about how easily you can get under his skin...While you show how easily you can get under his skin. (Sub! Sage, but he's a butt about it, bondage, and slight nipple play)

A Tick ❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦He had to prove he was better. Needed to. Even if he needed to use some unconventional methods to do so. (Threesome, Ft. Wild!)

Love Me ❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦After being used to nothing but harsh actions and hissed words, Sage is quite affected by someone showing him nothing but love.

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Butterfly Kisses 💖💝

˚ ✦This Hero finds the child of King Rauru and Queen Sonia...Who are no longer around. Well, you know what they say. Finder's keepers. (Platonic! Dad! Heroes!)

Fours a party❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦ He's going to continue using those unconventional methods to prove he's the best. Even if now there's more than one opponent. (Foursome, Ft. Cal and Wild!)

Calamity (AoC Link):

Fours a party❤️‍🔥💚

˚ ✦ He's going to continue using those unconventional methods to prove he's the best. Even if now there's more than one opponent. (Foursome, Ft. Sage and Wild!)

The Chain:

Sit on my Face❤️‍🔥💖

˚ ✦Reader wants to repay the chain. They discuss how. (W/Sage!)

 (Pt. 2! Ft. Time)❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦ Reader pays their dues~

Courage (Animated Link):

A Bird's Eye View❤️‍🔥💖 

˚ ✦This hero proves how well he can breed his Harpy lover~ (Breeding Kink)

Bro, It's not gay if you say no homo, bro.❤️‍🔥💖💚

˚ ✦They even kept their socks on. (Ft. Dalton and Dante, and Ko*idai IG.)

Ko*idai (CDI Link):

Golly ❤️‍🔥

˚ ✦Ko*idai has a breeding kink. That's it. That's the post.

Bro, It's not gay if you say no homo, bro.❤️‍🔥💖💚

˚ ✦They even kept their socks on. (Ft. Dalton and Dante, and Courage IG.)

Fierce Diety:

NSFW Alphabet❤️‍🔥💖💚

˚ ✦What it says on the tin <3

Misc:

His Forbidden Fruit

˚ ✦ A non-Link specific little tid-bit.

Rauru Headcanons

˚ ✦Link's sister proves her worth to the first King of Hyrule...Maybe a little too well. (Breeding Kink)

Worshipper Ravio

˚ ✦Ravio as your devoted follower.

Sage and the Chain rambles

˚ ✦Some interesting thoughts with Sage and the Chain, and the chaos behind it.

Cottagecore home

˚ ✦My thoughts regarding Sage, his old Hateno home, and his thoughts towards that and Zelda.

Double Standard

˚ ✦Some thoughts with Wild having a dirty dream and the Chain's reaction.

Stuffy Recovery

˚ ✦How would the Chain help you fix your plush? (This was so soft and I love how it came out. It's not Yandere, and not long enough to count as a drabble, so here it goes!)

Talk about the Triplets (Wild, Sage and Calamity)

˚ ✦Just some thoughts about the triplets and why they would be Yandere. (WARNING: Talk of unsubscribing from life, so please proceed with caution)

Wild and Sage sleeping habits

˚ ✦And why they have to sleep with Reader (Get your mind out of the gutter >:()

A Submitted Sage Tid-bit

˚ ✦Go read this. Right now >:(

The Triplets (Ft. Plus sized Reader!)

˚ ✦This too.

Let's get Loud

˚ ✦Who's having the most fun making the Reader break their quiet streak?

Spitballing Cal Hc

˚ ✦Cal headcanons that aren't enough to be their own post.

Spitballing Wind Hc

˚ ✦Wind headcanons that aren't enough to be their own post

Twilight Comic

An absolutely ADORABLE Comic submitted to me. <333

Aaliyah's Corner:

Aaliyah Ref. Sheet~

˚ ✦Yall seem to love Aaliyah so I'm linking her art here.

She's barbie.

˚ ✦And Sage is just Ken.

Eye of the Storm

˚ ✦Where does her story begin? Right here :)(Head the CW warnings).

Art Piece Take one!

˚ ✦I can art. who knew?

Ceres and Aaliyah meet (Which can only end well, of course.)

˚ ✦Please note, this is mostly pure smut between my own Oc and Ceres (Who belongs to @angry-trashcan) Totally self-indulgent but I love it sm.

Part 1: Bound (Bailey's Piece)

Part 2: Two on One Special (My Piece)

Part 3: Girl(S) Interrupted (Bailey's Piece)

Part 4:

Mae and Aaliyah Meet

Another OC x OC storyline with Mae (Who belongs to @jcs-radiostation) Also self-indulgent but i also love them sm <333

My part 1: Here!

[imagineteamfreewill]

An Imagined Life

Title: An Imagined Life

Pairing: Author!Dean x Interior Decorator!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been best friends since childhood, and though they’re both adults with busy lives, they still manage to keep up their weekly traditions.

A/N: Wow! It's been SO long since I posted on here. Hey everyone! This kinda came out of nowhere, but nonetheless, it was fun to write. Thank you to everyone who supports me here, on Patreon, and on ao3. Thank you for reading, and enjoy! Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

There’s no response when you knock on Dean’s front door, and you smile to yourself as you crouch down to pull the spare key out from behind the loose siding at the base of the house. He’s never quite gotten around to finding a new place to put it, even after his dad found the hiding spot and trashed the place while the two of you were out of town, but it really doesn’t matter anyway. Very few people actually know who Dean is. You’re fairly certain most of his neighbors think that he’s a hermit, rather than a bestselling author.

Once you’ve wrangled the door open, you set the key on his entryway table and shift the plate of hot pancakes so you can carry it with both hands.

“Dean!” you call, peering up the stairs. There are no lights on in the hallway. His living room’s a mess, and you have to step over several piles of books as you cross through to get to the kitchen. “Dean, I brought pancakes!”

He still doesn’t answer and you sigh, shedding your jacket and tossing it on the island before heading back through the living room and up the stairs to his room. He’s probably still in bed. There’s no doubt that he’d been up late writing again, considering the various pages spread across the couch cushions. His laptop sits nearby, too.

The couch is his second favorite place to write—with the back porch being his first—despite the fact that in the beginning, he’d been adamant against your choice in seating. The two of you had argued about it for over an hour. He hadn’t liked the legs. You’d insisted that he’d needed it, and in the end, he’d relented. After all, he’d hired you to decorate his new house, and he trusted you to do a good job. Even though you’d played pranks on him ever since you were little, you wouldn’t dream of screwing up a client’s house, even if it was Dean.

You and Dean have been best friends since kindergarten. During your very first week of school, he’d stood up for you when another kid had tried to take your beloved coloring book during a rainy day recess. The two of you have been like velcro ever since. You’d gone to all the same schools, even for college, and you’d both moved across the country to pursue your dreams after graduation. He’d moved into a modest fixer upper on the outskirts of the city and you’d moved into an apartment nearby the studio where you’d started your career, but the commute hasn’t stopped either of you from continuing your tradition of Sunday morning breakfasts, or in this case, Sunday afternoon breakfasts.

Knocking on his bedroom door, you carefully push it open and poke your head into the room. Sure enough, Dean is sprawled out across his bed, the blankets covering one bare leg and his upper half. The only thing visible at the top of the comforter is a tuft of brown hair. Smiling to yourself, you open the door the rest of the way and cross the room to open the curtains. You slide the plate of pancakes onto the only clear spot on his dresser as you pass.

“Rise and shine!” you cheer, and Dean answers you with a singular, sleepy grunt. Chuckling, you leap onto his bed, making him bounce on the mattress. He groans again and pulls the covers closer around him from the inside. 

“Come on, Dean! I brought pancakes this week!”

Silence answers you, and just as you’re opening your mouth to try and coerce him for the third time, Dean grumbles,

“Remind me to hide the spare key.”

You grin and yank his pillow out from under his head, then lean down so you can speak directly into his ear. “You and I both know you’ll never do that.”

He groans again, and you briefly wonder how he ever managed to start a career when his vocabulary is so limited in the morning. When you tell him as much, Dean reaches his hands out from under the blankets, pulls his pillow from your grasp, and flips the blankets off his head before shoving the pillow back under him where it belongs. He turns onto his back and rests his head back on the pillow as he squints up at the ceiling, his eyes adjusting to the midday sun streaming in through the tall bedroom windows.

��Did you really have to open the curtains?” he asks as he rubs his eyes with the back of one hand. His voice is thick from sleep, making it gravelly and just a little deeper than normal. It makes you smile. You love Dean in the morning, even if he is a grump.

“Probably not,” you reply. Flopping down beside him, you stare up at the ceiling fan in silence, letting him wake up the rest of the way on his own. You’ve done your job spectacularly.

Finally, Dean sighs heavily and sits up, letting the blankets slide halfway onto the floor as he shifts his legs over the side of the bed. You turn onto your side and prop your head up with one elbow, watching him. He’d gone to bed in just his black boxers again, leaving his back exposed to you. The sunlight turns his skin golden.

He’s been out in the sun, you think. His freckles stand out more than usual, and as he stretches, your mind wanders. The two of you have never dated, which is strange. You enjoy spending time with him, and it’s not like you think he was ugly. In reality, Dean is one of the most attractive people you know. He could convince you to do anything if he smiled while he asked. If he asked you to date him, you’d say yes. Hell, if he asked you to marry him, you’d say yes.

“You just gonna stare at me or are we gonna eat?” Dean asks, and you grin, pushing away your thoughts as you quickly try to make up for your long silence.

“Eating sounds good, but I can’t say I’m opposed to staring at your back for the rest of the day. It’s a nice back,” you tease.

“Shut up.” Dean turns and grabs his pillow, tossing it at your head.

You laugh and move your hand from where it’s supporting your head, effectively blocking the hit. Dean smiles down at you, despite his initial grumpiness after being jarred awake, and you grin even wider when his expression softens.

"You have a good week?" he asks, and you nod.

"You? Looks like you got a lot of writing done."

Dean nods slightly and stands, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. You force yourself to look away.

Why am I suddenly thinking about dating Dean?

Silently, you scold yourself and sit up on the other side of the mattress. Your back is to him, which gives you a moment to compose yourself. It’s too early for crazy thoughts about going out with your best friend. That’s more of a 3:00 AM thought.

You don’t want to mess with a good thing, you remind yourself. It’s the reason you avidly avoid the topic of dating when anyone brings it up, especially at holidays. For the longest time, your mom and Mary Winchester have been conspiring to get the two of you together. Back when you were younger, you fielded their questions with ease by telling them that you only thought of Dean as a friend and that you were more focused on your career, but you can practically picture their expressions if they ever heard your private thoughts about Dean’s back. These thoughts will have to be something you take to your grave.

You clear your throat and get up, grabbing the plate and rounding the end of the bed. “Ready?” you ask.

Dean grabs a t-shirt from the laundry basket on top of his dresser, then pulls it over his head. He glances at himself in the mirror before running a hand through his hair and heading out into the hallway. You follow him down the stairs and to the kitchen, plate in hand.

He starts pulling down plates, cups, and silverware for the two of you while you stick the plate in the microwave. 

“There’s syrup in the fridge,” he tells you, pointing just behind you. “Can you get the creamer, too?”

You hum in acknowledgement and turn around to do just that, and he starts the coffee maker. Dean knows exactly how you like your coffee. The thought that he does makes you smile as you hunt through the contents of his fridge.

“So what’s the plan for today?” he asks.

Glancing over your shoulder, you grab the syrup from the door before closing it and taking a few steps to the island so you can dump the bottle of creamer there, too. You settle on one of the bar stools and watch him from the side as he makes your coffee. Last year, you’d convinced him to buy a fancier coffee maker, and though he’d been reluctant to change and get rid of the faithful machine that had helped him through his first bestseller, Dean eventually agreed that the newer model was better. Plus, it meant that he could make you some truly great breakfast drinks, not just plain coffee with creamer like he normally has.

“Besides pancakes? I have to run to IKEA and look at some decor options for a client. Do you want to come with?”

His nose crinkles enough that you can see it from your seat. “Shopping?”

You lean forward over the island, propping your chin on your hand as you give him the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. “Please, Dean?” you whine. “Please spend time with your oldest, prettiest, and most talented friend so I don’t perish of loneliness before I can settle down like a good, upstanding citizen. I need someone with me to ward off all the suitors that might harass me while I do my weekly throw pillow shopping.”

Dean snorts. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” You drop your hand down and push yourself up on the counter, just enough that your reach is long enough to reach the cup of coffee he’s brought over for you. You pull it closer and lift it to your nose so you can breathe in the rich aroma, then take a sip. As predicted, it’s perfect. With a sigh, you plop back onto the stool.

“Yes, you are,” he laughs.

The microwave beeps and Dean abandons his mug to get the pancakes, and you busy yourself by arranging your plate and silverware in front of you. You don’t have to ask Dean to heap your portion onto your plate. He does it automatically, piling pancakes in front of you until you give him a satisfied nod. As he plates his own food, you start dishing up your toppings.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get out of the house a little today,” Dean says after the two of you have had a chance to tuck into your food. 

You look up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise and a loaded fork held halfway to your mouth. “Really? You actually want to go shopping with me?”

He shrugs and takes another bite.

“Okay, then I’m going to finish these pancakes so we can get going before you change your mind,” you tell him, and you start to shovel your food into your mouth more earnestly. He smiles a little before doing the same.

After you and Dean clean up from your late breakfast, you pile into the Impala. He has to stop for gas, so you spend that time searching through your inspiration photos and the screenshots of items you’d looked at on the website. It’s nice to not have to drive, and it gives you a better chance to focus your thoughts on what the most important items will be. As much as he loathes shopping, Dean likes to wander, which means you can’t get distracted from what you really need for the houses, rather than what you’ve walked past four times.

“All good?” you ask, glancing up from your phone when he climbs back into the driver’s seat. Dean hums in agreement and turns the key in the ignition again, then cranks the music as he pulls out of the gas station. You laugh a little when he punches the accelerator once you’re on an open stretch of highway, and you lock your phone, leaning back in your seat.

It’s a nice enough day that you can have the windows down. The wind in your face reminds you of the long road trips you’d taken together in college, and the drive you’d made to move from college to your current home. Those are some of your happiest adult memories with Dean. Some of the moments you replay over and over again in your head each night are from those trips. 

“So what exactly are we getting here?” Dean asks as he turns into the massive store lot. “Throw pillows? Vases with fake grass? Giant, framed, sepia-toned pictures of cows?”

You roll your eyes at the design cliches he always teases you about. “A couch and a coffee table,” you shoot back. “Although, you seem to know a lot about those cow pictures. Have you been researching one for your own house?”

He sends you a scathing look, but it’s quickly replaced by a small smile when you laugh at his reaction.

Climbing out of the car, you pull out your phone again. “I haven’t picked out a coffee table, but the couch…” You scroll through the pictures until you find the one you want, then hold it out for him to see. “Here, this is what I’m looking for. I just hope they have it here—they don’t ship this one and I don’t want to drive four hours to the next IKEA.”

Dean glances over at the Impala, and his smile is gone. “That’s not going to fit, Y/N. If I’d known you were getting furniture—”

“I’m just reserving it.” You shake your head. “I’ll have one of the interns pick it up tomorrow morning.”

He nods back and his shoulders relax slightly as you head into the store. Thankfully, it’s less crowded than you’d anticipated, which lets you keep a lazy pace as you walk. You’re not quite wandering, but you’re not worried about people trying to get past whenever you and Dean stop to look at one of the room displays.

“This one’s nice,” Dean says. He nods at a metal coffee table in one of the fake living rooms. 

You crinkle your nose, feeling a little bad that you can’t agree. “It’s okay. Not quite what I’m looking for, though. It’s not really the vibe of the family.”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you as you hum and pick a pillow to inspect the design closer. “What’s the vibe?”

You set the pillow back in the giant metal basket and think about it for a second. “They’re more natural, like a… spa commercial. Lots of light natural woods, white linens, birdsong in the background, that kinda thing.” You gesture vaguely with one hand.

“Ah, so the daughter’s name is Serenity and the mother does weekly yoga with the other women from the neighborhood,” Dean replies.

“Exactly.”

“Dad’s probably a workaholic, and he goes along with whatever the mom wants because he knows it’ll keep her off his back. He doesn’t mind all the organic stuff, but he’s not above getting McDonald’s for lunch. He pays with cash, though, because his wife keeps careful track of their money,” Dean continues.

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re really fleshing this one out, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a little satisfied smile, then pushes the cart forward to the next display room.

“Okay, so what about this one?” you ask. You wave your hand toward the half-dining room, half-living room display that’s been set up. It’s clearly meant to mimic a small apartment, because almost everything doubles as storage. The decor reminds you of your own apartment when you’d first moved out of college. You’d been broke after the cross-country move, and most of your things had been leftover from your dorm. You didn’t get “real” furniture until almost two years later. Dean had offered to help pay for the basics, but you’d turned him down. He’d already had his hands full with fixer-upper he’d bought with the advance from his first book.

Dean considers the faux apartment, letting his eyes sweep over each item with care before he finally answers, “They just moved cross-country. He’s planning on proposing to her, but he doesn’t have a ring yet because they spent all their money on the new apartment. It’s barely big enough for them, let alone the stuff they have from college and from their parents’ basements, but she loves it anyway. She likes to decorate with things she finds at thrift stores and the flea market, and he’s secretly been saving every penny he can to buy her the ring he thinks she deserves. If everything goes his way, he’s hoping to ask her next summer, and he’s going to string up the living room with lights because she always mentions how much she misses the fields of fireflies from where they grew up together.”

You smile to yourself, imagining the couple as Dean weaves his story around you. The aisles in this area of the store are empty, and his voice draws you into the picture he’s creating on a whim. It’s warm and homey, and it reminds you a little of your own life, just enough that you can imagine it clearly.

“I like that,” you finally say, after several moments have gone by. “What about that one?” You point a little farther down the aisle.

“The kitchen?” Dean asks. You nod in response. “Well, our couple’s gotten older, but he still hasn’t proposed. They still live together, and they’ve got a better place now that they both have better jobs, but every time he sees a ring or thinks it’s the right time to pop the question, he starts second-guessing himself. So, since they have a backyard now, he gets her a dog, instead.”

“What kind of dog?”

He looks over at you. “What kind of dog do you want it to be?”

You nudge him with your elbow, smiling. “Come on, Dean. You know me. I’m always gonna answer that they need a golden retriever. Every cheesy romance novel and movie has a golden retriever.”

He laughs a little and looks back at the empty kitchen. “A golden retriever it is, then. He’s a rescue, so he’s already three, but she spends every extra minute she has training him. She’s worked hard to make their house a home, you know, so she has to make sure to keep his muddy paws off the couch.”

“Of course,” you agree.

Dean pushes the cart forward again, and the two of you walk a little further, passing by countless closets, more living rooms, a plant display, and another kitchen. Finally, you reach a children’s bedroom, and you pause just for a moment. It’s long enough that Dean notices, however, so he stops and looks over at you.

“Did you find something you like?” he asks. “I didn’t see that couch you wanted earlier when we passed through the sofa section.”

Something about the first story Dean had come up with today stuck with you, and as you peer at the display, you can’t help but picture yourself crouching down beside the ladybug-themed bed. You imagine yourself brushing hair back off a child’s forehead, and you chuckle at the idea of a golden retriever who would hop up by the kid’s feet though it’s too big for the bed.

“What about this?” you ask, quietly, almost so quiet that the music covers it up.

Dean’s silence for a second. “We have a kid now, and he’s everything we’ve ever dreamed.”

You don’t fail to notice that Dean’s changed his story—it’s no longer “them” and “the couple”. It’s we. He keeps his eyes focused on the bed as he talks, but you look over at him. His eyes are a little glossy, and his expression is far away as he continues,

“We still live in the same house, and I’ve got a ring stashed away in a box of rough edits. You haven’t found it yet, but every time I go out, I’m worried that you’ll try to tidy up my office and find it.”

You swallow thickly and stare at him, wide-eyed. Careful not to disturb him too much, you move your hand a little. Your fingers bump against his, and Dean lets you maneuver his hand so it’s wrapped around yours, but he still doesn’t look away from the display bedroom. People are walking past you. Their voices and the music playing overhead feel far away, like they’re in a totally different universe. You’re so focused on Dean that you can’t see, feel, or hear anything outside of your little bubble.

“You’ve totally taken over everything,” Dean continues, chuckling. His lips turn up in a smile. He speaks without hesitation, and with enough passion in every word that you know he means everything he says. This isn’t just pretending anymore.

“The house is amazing, and you’ve gotten into gardening. Everything you touch seems to thrive, including me. I’ve got two more books on the bestsellers list, and it’s enough money that I don’t have to worry about how we’re going to make it. I know that we’ll be okay, no matter what happens. Your business is doing great, too. You stepped back since Robert was born, but you’ve got a partner and enough employees and interns that you can relax.

“You’re up here, right now,” he says. He lifts your joined hands to point towards the bed. “Tucking Robert in.”

“I am?” you prompt.

He nods. “When you’re back downstairs, I’m going to propose.”

“How are you going to ask me?” you murmur, almost afraid to ask.

Dean looks away from the display. His eyes meet yours, and you inhale sharply when he reaches behind himself to push the cart further away. He sinks to one knee and takes your other hand as you gape down at him.

“Dean…”

“I have loved you since the moment I saw you, Y/N,” he says.

You can sense people watching you, and to your left you can see someone holding up their phone to take a picture or to record you, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. Tears are welling up, making your vision blurry, and you blink them away. They roll down your cheeks. In any other circumstance, you’d be embarrassed to cry in public, but it’s Dean. He chases all your fears away, and his hands in yours pull you into a moment you never thought you’d see.

“I have thought about proposing to you since we moved here,” Dean continues. “I think about it every day. Every morning, I wake up, Y/N, and I wonder why I haven’t asked you yet. Sometimes it feels like if I go another minute without being engaged to you, I’ll die. I don’t even have a ring; I haven’t been able to find the perfect one, but I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of our lives together. I want to reach our goals and make new dreams together. I know this is sudden, and it’s a lot, and you can say no—I know that you weren’t expecting this—but I can’t let another day go by without asking.”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s right— you weren’t expecting this. You and Dean aren’t even dating, but the idea of spending your life with him doesn’t feel wrong or far-fetched. It feels perfect. You may be blindsided, but you’re not afraid of admitting when something is right.

Dean rubs his thumb over the side of your hand, and it draws you back down to him. “So what do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?”

After a second, you find yourself nodding. You throw yourself down into Dean’s arms. “Yes,” you say into his ear. You sniffle and press your face into his shoulder, and though your voice is muffled by his shirt, you know he’ll understand. “Yes, Dean. I love you so much.”

There’s scattered applause from all around you. Slowly, you sniffle and pull away, wiping your eyes with a smile and a laugh. Dean helps you stand again, and you brush the dust off your knees as shoppers crowd in to congratulate you. You nod along and thank them, a little embarrassed at all the attention, but soon you’re following Dean out of the store. An employee stops you at the door to give you a gift card from management, which you pocket in a daze. 

Neither one of you has bought anything, and you’ve totally forgotten to reserve the couch and coffee table you’d come for, but Dean leads you out to the Impala anyway. Then, once you’re away from prying eyes and the warmth of the sun is on your skin, he kisses you. His hands find your hips as he presses you back against the passenger side door, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Dean’s kiss is sweet and slow, and you know that it’s going to be something you remember for the rest of your life.

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[journalofmoonlight]

Poem 2 of 25: Inevitable

Your story made me scream

about the inevitability of life

how the story doesn't change

no matter how much I’d like

It can be easy to excuse actions

when you know the end

saying if someone else intervened

you might’ve been one who'd bend

I can blame your nurture

I can blame your childhood

I can blame your trauma

I can blame that night in the wood

And its true you lacked control

over your life for so long

but when you had the choice

YOU chose wrong.

- Your fall wasn't inevitable but your character wasn't always questionable

[thisismeracing]

MICK SCHUMACHER MASTERLIST

✦ MICK SCHUMACHER ▶ MS47

All my Mick posts here

▸ main masterlist | patreon guide ▸ taglist ▸ who I write for & guidelines ▸ subscribe to Patreon for exclusive content ▸ tip me on ko-fi

KEYS: s: smut f: fluff a: angst ✷: Patreon exclusive

― ✦ SERIES

king of my heart: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

― ✦ SOCIAL MEDIA AU

I don't wanna be your ex (f): Y/n and Mick used to be the golden couple in the paddock, that’s why the internet went wild when they announced their breakup. Imagine how they reacted when Y/n dropped a song about not wanting to be his ex. Would the couple have any hope of getting back together?

sunshine (f): In which Mick starts dating an earthy/spiritual girl who just loves nature and good energy.

it was always you (f): Mick and Yn decided to stay friends after breaking off their two years relationship, but it seems like things weren’t that broken. Maybe having the same friend circle and seeing each other all the time meant that things were never really over.

angels like you (a): They say misery loves company, maybe that’s why Yn accidentally made Mick miserable too.

super shy (f): The one where your boyfriend is your biggest fan to the point of turning his account into a fan account or something of the sort. Or, Mick and Yn’s relationship through the years

go shawty (f): Every year Yn gets Mick a unique birthday cake. This year she’s ready to surprise the internet and her boyfriend again.

― ✦ BLURBS

I regret meeting you (a)

Say it again (f)

Friends don't (f)

I think I'm in love (f)

Speak now (a)

Light's on (f)

Suck it (s)

All mine (s)

Morning light (f)

Schatzi (f)

― ✦ REGULAR IMAGINES

our baby Angie (f): What happens when Mick refers to you as Angie's mom?

rosy cheeks, salty hair, warm bodies (s): After finally matching their schedules and booking a trip together, Yn and Mick decide to go to Mallorca for a well-deserved break. The fact that they went weeks without seeing one another and the tension around the hot weather and beach garments only helped build the momentum in which her boyfriend would absolutely ruin her in bed.

cherry (s): Mick has an idea while lying in bed during a lazy weekend, and Yn is more than ready to oblige.

suit testing (s): Yn decides to tease Mick until he gives up and takes her against the bathroom door while still wearing his racing suit.

an avid learner (s): Mick has been nothing but an attentive lover since they started dating, what Yn didn’t know was that he would be even more attentive in bed. It’s their first time having sex, and Mick is an eager learner, he’s set to make sure Yn forgets she ever dated someone before him.

banana pancakes (f): Mick is used to racing cars and living at high speed, but lazy rainy mornings with you are his favorite. Cuddling in bed, making banana pancakes, and listening to the rain fall down while swinging together on the front porch, no travel or circuit beats these moments.

love sips (s): Some bad moments leave the feeling that your whole day was destroyed. Sometimes, all you need to navigate life’s ups and downs is someone to remember you that bad events don’t equal a bad day, Yn decides on a very peculiar approach to remind herself that, and Mick, her boyfriend, is happy to help. 

god is a woman (s): Making out in bed never felt this deep and heart-stopping, but dating Mick and having him love you is a full experience of being a goddess. Your hips were his altar, and he would swear to everyone that God is a woman because you’re it to him.

call me obsessed (s): Everyone talks about how good it is to date someone who’s exactly like you, but Mick has been finding it hard to believe, especially when his girlfriend has the same sunshine energy as him. The problem? Too many friendly flirts around her. And though he’s not a jealous guy, he finds himself ready to praise her and prove to her that he’s the only one. You can say he’s obsessed.

twisted love (a): The rule is clear for all celestial beings: to love the Almighty beyond everything. They can’t share the feeling. It is perpetually prohibited for angels to get fond of humans, especially the protector angels. They are the ones who will follow their human on earth and protect each one. Those Angels and the humans are the same pairing throughout time. Mick watched Yn die and come to life in different forms each period, and he fell - in love, and from Heaven. Years after searching for Yn, he found her again and he’s ready to get what’s his.

I'll always take care of you (f): The flu caught you out of the blue and completely unprepared, good thing you have your boyfriend around to take care of you.

to build a home (f)✷: Mick and Yn are used to sharing everything, and always spending time with each other. However, they didn’t notice that things got easier because they ended up pilling some things in one house. His place is theirs now, but the same happened with her place. It only takes their respective siblings one look to figure out the whole situation. Will it scare them, or will they finally move in together?

die from a broken heart (a/f): After a fight with Mick, your secret boyfriend, you find yourself crying in your father’s arms, and it won’t take much for Toto to connect the dots. The thing is: what is going to happen when he finally does?

― ✦ CONCEPTS

college!mick (masterlist)

― ✦ HEADCANONS

♡ how mick is as a boyfriend ● part 02 ♡ aftercare with mick ♡ how mick is as a husband ♡ baby making season ♡ size kink ♡ breeding kink ♡ mick dating a black girl ♡ fighting with mick ♡ choking kink ♡ NSFW alphabet ♡ mick dating a desi girl ♡ mick dating a korean girl ♡ mick dating a girl with anxiety ♡ mick dating a latina ♡ mick dating a K-pop idol

©thisismeracing do not copy, steal, or translate my work. do not repost on a different media platform.

[come-on-darling-honey]

gap year.

EMBRY CALL X FEM!READER

While working at the first beach souvenir shop to save up money in your gap year your childhood friend Embry Call picks you up and imprints on you... after not seeing you for four months.  

word count: 5.4k

warnings: explicit language, allusions to smut but no detail. All 18+ minors dni.

"Right sweetheart, I'm going to check out." Ms Call said, grabbing her coat. "Christ its pouring down." Her brown sneakers stopping at the front window.

I both laughed and sighed when looking out the front of the shop. It was pouring... and yeah, I absolutely didn't have a ride home. It didn't look like the rain was going to stop at any moment soon. Working in the first beach gift shop had many upsides... a steady income, a beautiful view of first beach and a serene silence that whimpers in the wind of the beach. But only two busses came by on weekdays like this at 8am just before my shift starts and then at 7pm. With my shift ending at 5pm and the pouring rain halting any attempt of walking all the way to forks from the reservation the future didn't look too dry.

"I'm gonna ask Embry to come pick you up when your shift ends sweetheart, don't say no. There's no way I'm letting you walk in this."

Oh Embry. It'd been a few months since I'd seen him last. He'd cut his hair and somehow grown half a foot in a few weeks. Being close friends growing up sharing shy kisses on the very beach that I now worked at... then not speaking for months. To say it was awkward would be an understatement. It had been a task to not face him in the past few months but going into the back, restocking the shelves and hiding under the desk had been doing me extremely well. He’d cut me off completely after all. And that hurt like a bitch.

"Don't let him go out of his way, I'm sure I can get Kim to come and get me." Kim was currently at the movies with Emily.

"Ah here he is now, Embry love you are not wearing enough layers!"

"Sorry mom." He laughed coming into the shop. shaking off rain from his hair lightly, his tan skin smooth and glistening. His cargo's slightly drenched and Ms Call was correct he only wore a shirt and a thin jacket. Really thin. Like see the outline of him, okay I need to not think about him. I don't think I can do that. Alright focusing on the key chain on the desk. It's kind of cute.

"So, Embry's picking you up at 5pm, when you lock up remember to turn the stereo off dear." She smiled leaving a confused Embry at the shop door.

"No please it's okay." I tried to bargain, avoiding Embry's gaze. And failing. His eyes widened and he couldn't stop staring at me. Ms Call opened the door and tapped his shoulder. He'd just stopped staring at me, and I'd decided to take to staring at the whirling ocean.

"I'll be here at five." I could hear the grin in his voice. Why was he grinning? Why did it feel as if I were being pulled to him. Busying myself with the cd player and hearing the door close and turning around I'd managed to catch Embry driving away, a strong smile on his beautiful face. Wait beautiful? No Embry is strictly within childhood friend category. But God. Look at him. It felt as if my feet were pulling me to him. I turned on the stereo, connecting it to my phone it started playing When I was all over her, by Salvia Palth. Such a beautiful song. That fit this rainy day but felt like someone had stuck their fingers in a stab wound.

After loosing sight of them I felt this strangest emptiness within my lungs. Like I was short of breath, and I had been my entire life, the feeling only rectified when I was with him. No, I’m being insane. Literally insane.

But haven’t I known this my entire life?

Hasn’t every innocent touch and childish giggle led to this? Hasn’t Embry always been that warm reassuring shoulder I could fall onto? The kindness in his smile. The reminder that there will be a better tomorrow. The first foxglove flower to grow in spring, signifying a good hearty summer.

Foxglove was what we helped my grandmother plant outside our house when we were six. I still think of the pale pinks and blue even in winter. Living with my grandma meant my income was really the only income but she would get checks every so often for her books. Writing books on plants and their medicinal properties for the past forty years had kept her going but having my stream of income had helped a lot. However, most of it goes into savings. College doesn’t come cheap. She’d talked about Embry a lot recently saying how I should ‘just go over there and see his face’ which now I wish I had done sooner but I’m not sure why.

Living on the outskirts of Forks her whole life my grandma had grown alongside the elders on the reservation, I was friends with their grandchildren. I met Embry through Jacob, my grandmother adored him. Highschool and middle school were strange, befriending some people in forks and then recounting everything to Embry on the weekend. I remember how my grandma would sit and braid mine, Embry and Jacobs hair on a Sunday morning every weekend in the summer holidays. I still can’t believe he’d cut his hair. It seems like he’s growing it out again which is good but why would he do it?

Three hours passed by slowly and gratuitously. Every minute pulling me along like it hates the next.

I was thankful for that, I guess. Then I wouldn’t have to face him so soon. Wouldn’t have to face what I felt towards him so soon. It should be that love I have held for him my whole life. Our love was a folk song. One that would be passed on the way it’d been passed to us.

When I was seven years old and the two of us went into the woods, we couldn’t have been more than half a mile into the vast wilderness, after climbing a tree I’d ungracefully fallen out of he’d held my hand the entire way home. It felt like it was just the two of us. We had started the journey saying we were going to Europe. On foot. Little bags with snacks and crayons. He’d braided my hair out of my eyes when I’d sat down, the broken arm causing a little too much pain for me. Telling me it wasn’t too far now as he kissed the tears of my cheeks. I can still feel his small hand in my smaller hand. It’d been a short walk, as we grew older, we’d walk and re-walked it over and over going further into the woods every time. It wasn’t a fearful place.

The people at my high school were afraid of it. I wondered if I would’ve been too if my grandma lived further away from it.

Time must have gone faster than I’d thought because next thing I knew the front door opens and Embry comes in. It’s raining even harder now. The ache in me had left, with all the warm air as he opened the door.

“Hey” he smiles. I feel calm. I wish I didn’t feel calm. I wish I could just throw thigs at him. Scream at him for ignoring me.

Instead of responding I realise I needed to lock up about twenty minuets ago.

“Shit.”

He called my name as I ran into the back. Locking up and grabbing my raincoat we wordlessly get ready to go. I come back and he’s watching the ocean. If I just ignore him as much as I can till, he drops me at my house maybe then he’ll realise how fucked up he’s acted towards me. Locking the front door, I prepare myself to run through the rain. Embry ran to the driver’s side and opened my door from within.

“I am sorry, you know.”

I don’t respond. I want him to know how I feel but for some stupid to God reason I can’t spit it out.

“There are some things I need to tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you since it begun but I wasn’t allowed.” He continued. Not starting the car. “But after seeing you today I found out you are the only person I really can tell.” It warms my heart then burns me. How dare he. I stuff down any sweet feeling and spit up my pride.

“it’s been four months and you think everything will be okay now?”

“I know I hurt you but...”

“Just drive Embry.” I cut him off. Being alone never phased me, I’d simply go into the woods or sit in the garden, but I hadn’t had the heart to lately. All the flowers and the beautiful trees reminded me off him and it made me feel so weak. It had made me feel lonely. And I hated that. He knew I hated that.

So he drove. The beautiful winding roads and tall trees.

A cd started playing, I recognised it. The song Shrike, by Hozier played. One of my favourites. I dug my nails into my hands. I always think of him when I hear this song.

“Stop!” I shouted. Screeching, the car pulled to a halt. There on the road directly in front of us was a dog. German Shepard. It’d clearly been injured.

“Shit” Embry muttered, seeing what I had spotted before him. I couldn’t blame him for that the rain was so thick.

“Open the back doors and help me grab her.” I said, my heart leaping from my chest. Before he could say anything in return I ran out of the car. Abandoning all thought and getting soaked to the bone. I felt the freezing cold before I felt my feet hit the ground.

Getting closer I heard little whimpers from the poor thing. Its back left leg twisted in a grim manner I wish I could unsee. My hands slowly reached for her. Staying within his eyeline I stroked her fur. Trying to be as soothing as I could be. Embry had run over at this point. Soaked to the bone from the rain.

“I’ll pick her up, hold on.” And before I could protest because this German Shepard was clearly a two-man job, Embry had picked her up. Putting her in the back of the car I scrambled for the extra blankets I knew Embry kept in the trunk. They’d been the ones I’d lain on with him. The ones we’d carry all the way to the top of a mountain on our hikes, we’d sit on them for our lunch halfway through. It all felt like a blur no words between us both just the heavy breaths of two kids, terrified about the life of this small, beautiful creature in our hands, when we’d both gotten back in the car, I’d grabbed my phone from my bag.

“The vets are open; they’re staying open for us.” I heard a hum of acknowledgement as he sharply turned the car around. Without thinking and only wanting to calm him down I placed my hand on his thigh. Looking back at the dog.

“Give her a name.” He’d said his own hand on top of mine now.

“Dottie” I practically whispered.

“Dottie is a nice name.” He was quieter now. I looked at him and pulled my hand away.

The ride was quick, but it felt long. It was the pained whimpers from Dottie and the strayed moment of Embry and me.

There was a man outside the vets, no doubt waiting for us. He was medium built, his long dark hair tied into a braid at the back of his head. He couldn’t have been older than 45.

Running over to us, he and Embry got Dottie out of the car.

I’d ran to the front desk inside the building, explaining where we’d found her and that I’d take her in if needs be. The woman at the front desk was mousy and thin faced. She smiled and placed her hand on top of mine.

“She’ll be alright, you two seem to have found her rather quickly. Go sit over there with your friend and just wait.” She smiled, a thin lipped one. Her golden earrings shimmering in the static lighting of the vets.

I turned seeing Embry sat on one of the thin, white plastic chairs. Sitting next to him I felt all the air push out of my lungs. It’s like I collapsed into myself.

“That was an eventful ten minutes.” He sighed, breaking the silence.

“it really was.” Silenced filled us up again. Like a solitary leaf on the last day of Autumn.

“We should go to my house after.” He looked at me. Taking in my soaked figure, rain seeping through me. “It’s only five minuets away and well my mom wouldn’t forgive me if I sent you home soaking wet.” He joked, laughing abit. I laughed too, she really wouldn’t. “Plus, you have clean and more importantly dry clothes in my room.” He added, looking away from me. We both had spare clothes at each other’s houses. We had been best friends for almost two decades, of course we did.

“Fine.” Silence again and I cursed myself for being rude and curt when I saw his expression. Like I’d stabbed him. Embry had always felt everything so deeply, so unabashed. It’d always been true with him. He’d never lie about how he felt, even when he clearly wanted to.

“Look, I really can explain everything to you.” He breathed heavily, looking outside to the pouring rain, “You don’t have to forgive me for what I did but please here me out.”

“I don’t know what you could say to provide any reasoning as to why you left me.”

“I didn’t leave you.” He was getting defensive now. So was I.

“You did, I have been alone. Four months. You have ignored me. You have gone out of your way to seem like nothing happened. Being your new friends little lap dog. I get it. People grow apart. But I mean fuck you left me completely.” I finished my little rant. Angrily and stubbornly, I stared at him. Refusing to be the meek girl who immediately forgave the boy for everything he did. I resented him for that. For the fact I was angry. Despite my longing and yearning. I was angry. He was silent, pain flashing across his face. It hurt to hurt him so clearly but sometimes people need to get their feelings hurt to know what they have done is not okay.

There’s always another way. And he didn’t choose that. I tried, calling him. Visiting him. Asking his mom when we were working. I eventually took the hint and gave up but that doesn’t stop the persistent pain I felt.

Standing up as the vet came back in, he said one more thing to me, “I didn’t leave you.”

I scoffed, hoping he heard. He literally did. I can’t think of any way he didn’t leave me. But deep down, past the anger and resentment I knew he was telling the truth. I’d felt it. I’d also felt like a raging idiot, but I felt it. I don’t want to be mean. I want to hug him and love him. But all this pain is embarrassing. It’s annoying. Growing up Embry was one of the only people I would cry in front of. I wanted to cry now. I didn’t really focus on what the vet said. Only really registering anything when we got back into the car. The radio turned back on, John Wayne by Cigarettes after sex started playing. I gave him this cd. Burning all the songs on it myself… with Jacobs help but still.

“I’m sorry.” I forced myself to say. “I mean what you did was shitty, but I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No. you were right. I can’t just throw this on you.” He pulled into his driveway. “But I swear, this will all make a lot of sense. Just listen and ask as many questions as you want.” We ran to his porch.

“Mom! Can you bring us some towels?” We started shedding as many layers as we could before going in, we’d done this routine hundreds of times before. As kids Ms Call would get so annoyed at us for going inside dripping with water, saying we caused more trouble than we were worth.

She laughed when we got inside leaving the clothes on the safety of the porch.

“Look at you two, I swear you’re both eight years old again playing soccer in the rain.” Her smile was as warm as the house we were in. The smoothness of the hardwood floor beneath my feet was familiar and nostalgic. It’d had only been four months, but I could’ve sworn it was only yesterday Embry and I had skidded across these floors in our socks on a Saturday morning. Friday sleepovers were customary, it felt natural to be here on a Friday night. We started drying ourselves off, I only wore a t-shirt and the shorts I’d worn under my jeans for warmth, thankful for them. I used to wear little around Embry before this but since his absence and his… changes I felt intimidated. He was beautiful. No longer holding the softness of youth. He wore just his boxers, clearly unaware. Well, I was glad he was unaware. Going down the corridor to his room everything felt peaceful. The blue walls of his bedroom held so many pictures. I’d never seen this before. Some of him, Quill and Jacob. Some of Jacob and me. And lots of him and I. The one that stood out was me and him going down to the lake when we were kids, holding each other’s hands, his mom had taken it. That I knew. Seeing these up I looked at him, blushing he had clearly not thought about this.

“At least I know you didn’t forget me.” I joked as I went over to his computer. Spotify was already open, sitting down I searched for a playlist. He just laughed lightly and sat on his bed. It was a nice silence, sweeter than the one at the vets. Putting on one I’d made recently I moved over to his bed. I didn’t sit as close to him as I would’ve liked to, but his chest was so? Chiselled?

“Alright be honest have you been eating steroids because no human should gain this much muscle so quickly.” I poked his bicep, rock solid. What the fuck.

“That’s actually part of my explanation and no, no steroids have been ingested.”

Gold rush by Taylor Swift came on, I don’t remember adding it to the playlist. Embry must’ve noticed my light confusion.

“Oh, I added that to my queue before you got here” a beat of silence as I smile at myself, secret swifty. To be fair I felt like getting up and dancing to this song. It’s just so damn good.

“Should we get dressed or do you want to explain first?” I asked, wincing at how sharp the end came out. But he didn’t react how I thought he did. He started laughing. Like clenching gut laughing. “What?” I had started laughing too, not sure what we were laughing at exactly.

“It’s your shirt” He managed to get out through laughs. We’d both stopped laughing after a minute of heavy confused laughter. My shirt had a wolf, I’d got it for two dollars a few weeks ago and decided that it was horrendously ugly, and it was now my favourite shirt ever. It had a lone wolf howling at a yellow moon and all its teeth were blue. It was phenomenal.

 “What? This shirt is really cool! All the kids are wearing them!”

He’d started laughing again, I couldn’t help but join again. God it was such an ugly shirt.

“Not only is it just. Wow, so ugly but it’s kind of relevant to, like, what I have to tell you.”

Okay any theory I have has not only just been thrown out of the window but has been lost at sea.

“You started printing awesome t-shirts?”

“Oh, you wish.” He grinned.

“I do! Imagine all the free shirts I’d get!” This felt so natural. So… us. But then the air became serious as he stopped smiling and grabbed my hands. He was so warm, warmer than I remembered. Does memory minimise feeling? Was he always this warm? No winder he wore practically nothing to pick up his mom.

“Do you remember the old legends we used to get told about the tribe’s history and the cold ones?” I nodded, clueless as to where this was going. “Well, they’re true. Every single line. Completely and utterly true.” He no doubt saw the shock in my face. “The cold ones returned, and it forced some of us to… you know... phase.” He stopped waiting for my reaction. I couldn’t say anything. Furious at myself for believing him. Because I did. My grandmother had been talking to someone over the phone about the old tribal legends. I couldn’t stop my mind from whirling. I just squeezed his hand, hoping he'd keep talking.

“And, um, yeah it happened to me. And I couldn’t control it. Sam, the oldest one had taken us in and helped us transition, I guess. See I couldn’t be near you, any strong emotion triggered it to begin with and until I’d gotten it under control, I knew I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk hurting you. Sam had hurt Emily and he doesn’t forgive himself. But then I’d gained control over it. But I couldn’t bring myself to see you again.” He’d finished his word vomit. The lack of cohesion and the pained look in his eyes told me enough. His voice was just as naturally quiet as it always was, but the words came out faster and strained. Like he’d wanted to tell me this every day for months.

“Wait so” I took a deep breath in, regaining my focus and letting go of his hands. “You’re a… wolf?”

He nodded, he looked ashamed.

“Did it hurt?”

“I thought I was dying. I couldn’t breathe and every movement was a strained scream.” He looked away. “It was like I was losing myself. That’s when I put up all these photos.” Looking around I couldn’t help but smile. “The memories became like an anchor to not accidently phase.”

The silence that consumed us was one I’d never felt before. It was pregnant with something.

“You said before that you never left me, what did you mean?”

“I kept going to your house,” I looked at him, confused. There’s no way my grandma wouldn’t have said something. “I was in the treeline. I couldn’t sleep, scared the cold ones were going to hurt you.”

“The Cullen’s, right?” I shivered at the thought. I’d been at school with dead bodies? Like living dead people, gross.

“Yes. But they’re gone now. I promise.” I didn’t mention him not leaving me, it felt calming. I hadn’t left his mind; he hadn’t left mine.

“So, why the change of heart?” He looked away, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you remember the second part of the legend?”

It took me a few seconds. Thinking back to the bonfires Embry invited me and my grandma too growing up.

“Oh yeah imprinting but what does- oh. Oh.”

“Yeah.” He looked heartbroken. Taking my shock as something negative. But I couldn’t really say anything. My heart was in my throat. Scratching and scarping my oesophagus. It felt like my lungs were filling with blood.

Suddenly, I felt like a small robin. Flying and soaring. A glamorous breeze guiding me home. The home was an open window, to blue walls and Embry. I was the tired snake sneaking into Eden to be with him. I was the tired coal miner coming home to his arms. We were the con artists, partners in crime that hid our love in the unspoken touches and glances.

“Do you want this?” I managed to push out of my throat. The idea of this being forced onto him made bile raise in my throat.

“I’ve always wanted this. Ever since we were kids. When I held your hand when you broke your arm. When we’d braid each other’s hair. When you would tell me random facts about plants and birds you’d picked up from your grandma. I’ve always been in love with you. I didn’t need to imprint on you to know that.” He looked at me, I fell into his eyes. If only this had happened a few months ago.

But I’m glad. Despite the pain I know that even without the imprint, I loved him.

“The imprint bond is whatever you want it to be. Please don’t feel forced into anything you don’t want.”

“But what if I do want it?” He froze, hopeful. “I’ve loved you forever. It’s stupid, annoying and painful but it makes me feel like the most amazing person in the world.” I don’t need to explain any further. I know he understands. Of course, he does, the only person that never just tolerated me, he always cared for me.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you sooner. It’s stupid and childish but I was scared that I wouldn’t imprint on you.”

“Even if you hadn’t, I’d just be glad to have you back in my life.” I practically whispered. The rain was lighter now. The tree outside his window swaying in the wind. Singing to the earth the song of him and I. His smile felt as graceful as the strongest deer.

After more explanations and more reassurance from me, Embry finally relaxed. After he told me about Emily and Leah, what had just happened between us seemed so tame. I couldn’t wait to see Emily again. She and I would be the only imprints. I didn’t like the idea of having to keep this from Kim. I’d have to see how Emily kept it from both of us. It hurt deeply when I thought of Leah. How her entire life revolved around Sam, after what happened. Especially considering the unquestionable grief she is going through due to her father’s untimely passing.

“Do you wanna stay the night?” Embry asked, drawing stars on my thighs as we laid on his bed. Nodding I turned to face him, foreheads touching.

“Do you want to know something sad?” I asked. He whispered a small yes to me, “I thought you’d left me and” I struggled to get it out, heart rebreaking at the memories. “And I thought all the love we had was a delusion, a fantasy. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, hand on my face as he started crying. I cried too. It wasn’t just sadness, we cried relief. It felt as if I’d been dusted off. Like some omnipotent being had picked me up gently, assuring me all will well.

I think I feel just as much as Embry does. I think I always have. Maybe that’s why I took this gap year. Of course, I needed to save up for college but… I could’ve just worked and studied. But I needed to be here. I feel so much. So all-consuming it becomes an amalgamation of thoughts. Love is the most confusing emotion. Like anger. The anger I felt towards him was the secondary emotion. All anger is. I was sad. I missed him like a rich man misses hunger. Like the bird misses the first flight. Like a deer misses the leaves every winter. I missed ferociously. I missed him with a vigorous anger of a wailing woman. I became a horror. The emptiness of waking on my own a Saturday was gone. I no longer felt hollow. I felt real.

The night was intimate touches, clumsy movements and immense love in a way we have never experienced before. Never imagined to cross that line of friend to this. By the end of the night we held hands and breathed heavily, Sesame Syrup by Cigarettes after sex being the last song playing before we drifted asleep, it was fitting. Even if neither of us smoke.

The next morning was so bright. All the rain had given the grass this sensational glow. Ms Call had called my grandma last night, no doubt the pair gossiping like excited kids. I felt at peace. My entire world had been recentred when I awoke in his arms. Getting changed into the jeans and sweater I had in his closet I silently creeped through to the kitchen. Getting closer I heard light music trilling through the small house. Ms Call was dancing around the kitchen as she made breakfast. Noticing me she laughed pulling me into her, we danced and cooked. I told her about Dottie, how scared I was. How weak she seemed. But that the vet texted me late last night that they had found her owner, an elderly man who had missed her dearly. She was home. Frail and injured but no longer scared.

Embry wandered into the kitchen confused at all the noise. His eyes heavy with sleep, movements soft and low. His smile gleaned as he saw us. Despite his downright horrible dancing skills, we both pulled him to dance with us. It’d been as if my absence echoed and pained Ms Call as much as it did her son. We danced all morning, after eating breakfast Embry and I decided to go down to Port Angeles to grab Ms Call some flowers and to get some more cd’s for his car. He had told me the acidic feeling he had gotten in his throat when he went to buy them on his own.

I was always a full person without Embry, but with him I was enhanced. I was lively and focused. My movements weren’t the sluggish lugs they had been. He was a homeland. The beautiful village that welcomed me when I was shipwrecked.

embry’s pinterest board

AN/: hello! this was an absolute joy to write! I incorporated a lot of my music taste and some vague background to the readers life. I am absolutely ignoring writing an essay for uni right now. I expect very little action with this, I'm not sure how many people will read for my best boy Embry:(

I do have a part two I'm writing to explain more of the grandmother and Kim's imprinting from Jared! In this Bella doesn't get back with Edward, sorry but I just cannot write for that I don't see any chemistry at all between them. I rewrote a bit of Shifter Lore for the tribe in this as SMeyer's is extremely insensitive and I hate strongly how she made them cut their hair. I basically dislike Smeyer. I have made a spotify playlist with all songs mentioned and other songs that remind me of you and Embry, lmk if anyone wants me to share it :)

My requests are open! I write for all twilight characters and some other shows :) Thank you for reading this far. I love you, eat well and have a good new year!

[bluetooththereptile]

Unwanted embrace

Neglected Bat-family member x yandere Bruce wayne

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Tw: mentions of past neglect

Closing your closet you sighed, ripping the justice leage mark away from your costume, you no longer needed that, it once was your dream to work there as hero, save lives and protect humanity, but now you just saw it as a useless badge that just made you remember things you wanted to bury deep down in your mind and never think about them again. You had told Superman that you were going to quit just an hour ago, and you didn’t wait for other members to even protest when he agreed about it and went to gather your things up.

Once becoming a hero was your dream, you worked so hard on your powers to reach the level that you could be considering worthy enough to join the league, you were one of the youngest members of it, you were only 18, no, today you would turn 19, as Alfred had reminded you by a call this morning you two had. He was shocked you had forgotten your own birthday, maybe you were to used to it getting forgotten that you had thought of it as an unimportant date and had forgotten it, well it was the day you were pulled out from the safe and sound womb of your mother, born to the world you no longer wanted to be a part of.

You picked your baggage up and flipped the mark in your hand as you walked out of the locker room, putting the badge in Barry’s hands you gave him a half smile which was filled witj bitterness “It was good to work with you!” Barry opened his mouth “But (Y/N) you had just joined six months ago! weren’t you the one that wanted to beat anyone in the younger league to find a place here?” You just shrugged “I have lost interest…” you simply said ignoring Diana nag about you being selfish and leaving when you were needed the most, you waved them good bye and walked out of the justice hall, the dark rainy evening doing nothing good to your mood.

You took your mask off and took in a deep breath as your head lowered, now that you were old enough to leave home, you had so many plans to catch and it was rather overwhelming. You uncle had opened his home’s door for you, suggesting that you could stay with him for a while, till you could find the job you wanted the most, you had the money after all, years of trying to be independent were paying themselves off. You searched your bag for your car’s key, cursing under your breath as lightning hit the sky, which meant more rain.

The lightning brightened your surroundings for a second, giving you the ability to see a tall shadow that was looming over you. You made yourself busy, ignoring the black knight standing behind you “(Y/N)” hearing your name from him made goosebumps appear on your skin, when was the last time he had called you by your name? You turned around, to see him standing there, staring at you, finally, giving you his full attention “What do you want batman?” you said, now taking a step back, clenching the bag in your hand.

“I’ve heard you quit your place…why?” you couldn’t help but scoff at that, he was “the world’s best detective” he didn’t know the reason? “What do you think?” you said, arching your brow, but when you were met with silence you sighed, palming your face “Why I am wasting my time talking to you?” you asked yourself, hair now damp with rain “Because I am your father and I know how much hard you worked to get here” he said, face still emotionless but his voice held some hints of…desperation? You scoffed louder at that “My father…” you mumbled to yourself “How dare you call yourself my father?” you asked, fingers curling up into a fist “If it wasn’t for me leaving the manor you wouldn’t be reminded that I even existed there as a "family member” you mocked “Cut this crap…I have to be somewhere soon…” you said turning away.

“Look (Y/N) I understand-” you turned to face him again shouting “It’s (Y/H/N) to you batman! i am no longer your child! When was the last time you wanted to talk to me like this? wasn’t it my first day of school? how can you understand this? yes you lost your parents when you were a child but I did mine too! my mother that you never even care to hide your hatred for her died at giving birth to me and you were to disgusted by your own child that you hardly coped with me being there, isn’t it the truth hmm?” you said now walking toward him “You were never there batman… I didn’t have a father, I just had sire that paid for my life, when was the last time you asked me what I needed then your money? Oh right you were busy with tending to your growing family!” you pushed him on the chest not so gently, staring at him, eyes full of hatred as tears made them glossy “Do you even know how old I am?” you said now voice sad, yet firm.

Bruce looked at you without saying anything, he didn’t have anything to say, you were the result of his darkest days, when your mother had manipulated him and had given birth to you, but she was not lucky to live longer and enjoy his wealth, he wanted to forget her, forget everything that belonged to that time, including you…his own child. He turned his head away from you not coping to look at you in the eyes anymore. You scoffed bitterly “That’s what I expected from you, now go! your family must be missing you, isn’t your "baby” alone?“ you spat into his face, remembering how he had not let his other child, that was at Damian’s age, to become a hero like you did. To tell the truth you had joined to prove yourself to him, the man that had ignored your gifts that you would make by your own hands for father’s day, Alfred was the one that took them happily, complimenting about it even if it was nothing special, your little heart was broken but you had seen him take care of other members of the family and you wanted that love too, but he didn’t even care to spare you a glance.

You were a mistake, as he had told Alfred years ago, he wanted you gone. That was why you were both angry and confused right now, why he was there? "listen (Y/N)…let’s go home and talk about this properly alright?” He said trying to reach for your hand which you moved away quickly “For what? you want to lock me up there too?” you had seen what he did to his “baby” the poor child was spoiled rotten with his attention but he didn’t let her go for a mere second “though I’m sure you just want to make an excuse to say "I did what I could they left on their own!” I’m not a child anymore batman…and for the second time if you call me by my name again I’ll punch you in the face! that name is what my mother chose for me, you can not use that…you are not worthy of it!“

Bruce looked at you as your words sunk inside his mind, adding fuel to the storm that was making the guilt in his chest even more heavy. How you had become such a wonderful creature? powerful, independent…all on your own? and he didn’t have any part at any of it. The moment Alfred had informed him that you had left the manor the covers that he had put on the dark parts of his mind were pulled away, revealing you, his first child, whom had even changed their last name from "Wayne” to your mother’s not wanting to have anything to do with him. He wanted to fix that part of his life, he wanted to start it with you, but it seemed it was to late…no, it was not, you were his child, and he would be damned if he ever disappoint you again, you were family, and he was going to shove it in your mind if he could to make you understand.

He took your arm and held it gently but his grip was firm “We can talk about this later…you’ll catch a cold like this!” You were dumbfounded by what he had said for a second, good so he still had the surprise tactic against you, but it didn’t last long as the confusion gave place to anger and you pulled your arm out of his grip “It’s none of your business!” you hissed and walked away, looking for your car. You thought it was the last time you were meeting him, but you would be proven wrong…oh so wrong “My child…” he told himself as he watched you walk away “My baby…”

[milkb0nny]

Sweater Weather

Sam Winchester x gn!reader

Comfortember Day 2: Sweater Weather

Summary: You finally had the chance to meet the Winchester brothers again after weeks. Due to their hunting lifestyle you hadn't caught the chance to unite with them the past days. Today you accepted the invite of Dean, agreeing to have some drinks with them. Unfortunately you assessed the weather wrong, leaving you freezing in the cold night air.

Note: I went way over my anticipated word count for this one. Somehow my hands were writing faster than I realized. Anyway, fun with this wholesome prompt!

Warnings: none

word count: 1.203

The past few days the hot summer vanished into cooler mornings and fresh breezes of wind. The temperature gradually dropped, signaling the end of the season where shorts and crop tops had been the norm. While many expressed a sense of melancholy as summer waned, you couldn't help but revel in the changing weather.

This year's summer had been exceptionally long and you found yourself eagerly anticipating the arrival of the rainy season. Since July, you had been yearning for the perfect opportunity to sit on the wide windowsill with a steaming cup of tea, a cozy blanket draped over your shoulders. Finally, the time had come to count raindrops as they raced down the glass and to admire the beauty of autumn.

This morning Dean had invited you over to go drinking in the evening with Sam, on which you readily agreed on. Time spent with the Winchester brothers was precious to you, and you held a special fondness for shared moments with Sam. The tall, enigmatic brunette had held your admiration for some time now. Still, you never had the courage to confess to him, or even hint your attraction.

You were well aware of the fact that they were hunters, a life fraught with danger and uncertainty. Dean had shared with you the painful memory of Sam’s late girlfriend, an experience that had left deep scars on his heart. You refused to stir negative emotions, putting your needs back and loving him from a safe distance. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why you found the cooler seasons so appealing—the longing for warmth and the comfort of an embrace.

As you prepared to meet the Winchesters, you took a moment to check the weather one last time. The weather report had stated that today would be surprisingly warm compared to the days before. Therefore you decided on wearing your favorite pants, combined with a fitting shirt and a thin jacket. In case it would rain the jacket could protect you.

The moment you put your keys into your small backpack, you heard the humming engine of the Impala in front of your home. A flutter of nervous excitement coursed through you, causing a subtle flush to color your cheeks. You would see Sam again after weeks of not seeing each other.

Despite the slight outbreak of sweat, something you were likely the only one to notice, you got overran by happiness when you witnessed the smiling faces of the Winchesters. Eager to be reunited with Sam, you slid into the backseat of the Impala, the door closing with a gentle thud.

The Impala's iconic black exterior and the familiar scent of leather and old books enveloped you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you.

Sam turned his head around, trying to get a pleasant look at you. He said, “Hey y/n. It's been too long. We missed having you around.”

Dean agreed with his brother, repeating that they’ve missed your dearly appreciated company.

Your heart jumped and a bright smile spread over your shy face.

“I missed you guys too. It's good to be back,” you admitted.

The ride was over after five minutes and Dean parked in front of a typical bar. When the three of you entered the heavy smell of alcohol sneaked into your noses. A smell which reminded you of the brothers, a smell you hadn’t liked until you met them.

The evening unfolded in a delightful blur of shared stories and laughter, the comfortable ambiance of the bar enveloping you all. Drinks were poured and clinked together in unison, a ritual that signaled the beginning of an exciting evening. The hours passed in a whirlwind, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the warmth of the Winchester brothers' friendship and the deep sense of belonging you had found in their company.

As the night slowly drew to a close, you left the bar with a heart full of cherished memories and a bond that had only grown stronger. The crisp coldness of the night breeze hit you, sending a shiver down your back. Sam, who cautiously watched you, noticed your discomfort immediately.

“It's gotten a lot colder than I expected," he remarked, his breath forming a slight misty cloud in the chilly night air.

You agreed, looking up to him, “Yeah, I’m freezing.”

You didn’t want to indicate something, though it sounded exactly like it. A firm kick in the shoulders from Dean’s side reminded you of your sometimes oblivious behavior. You gazed back to Sam, who apparently didn’t notice the tease of his older brother. Relieved, you continued your short walk to the Impala.

However, Sam started to shrug out of his big sweater, a worn and comfortable garment that held the faint scent of his cologne and the warmth of his presence.

"Here, take this," he offered.

His brother didn’t want to partake in your romantic interaction, leaving the both of you behind and starting the engine to warm himself up. Sam’s eyes remained fixated on you.

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience him, but the cold was undeniable. Therefore, you gratefully accepted the offered sweater.

As you slid your arms into the soft fabric, you couldn't help but notice the subtle fragrance that clung to it - Sam's familiar scent, a mixture of the outdoors and a hint of his cologne. It was a scent that felt like home, like safety, like Sam. You pulled the sweater closer around you, savoring the warmth and comfort it provided.

"Thank you, Sam. I really appreciate it,” you thanked him.

Sam thought you looked adorable in his clothes, though he didn’t admit that right away. His dreamy eyes, glued onto your silhouette, expressed his thoughts already. He surely did notice your reddened face, and he absolutely acknowledged your awkward fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweater. You looked cute, so cute Sam wanted to pick you up and lay in bed with you all day.

Nevertheless none of you broke the silence and you began to continue your way once again. At one point, as you walked close together, Sam's fingers brushed against yours. It was a small, subtle touch, but it caused an explosion in your head. You stole a glance at him, and your eyes met for a fleeting moment. There was a depth of emotion in Sam's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you and him.

He suddenly stopped, resulting in you turning around. Still clung on the sweater, your curious eyes met his more serious face, or rather passionate. Before you could say a word, he placed his big hands on your cheeks, cupping them.

Without hesitation a kiss traced your lips, morphing the feelings of the two of you. You felt the hotness rush through your whole body, making you blush heavily. Your freezing body warmed up the moment his gentle lips met yours. Sam pulled away, though still remained so close you could feel his breath and his palms remained on your cold skin.

“Perhaps it's time we make our way back to Dean, Y/n. What do you say?”

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I know a lot of people feel in their early days, Jimin was kinda heavy-handed with his attention on Jungkook, but I think Jimin acted that way primarily for Jungkook's benefit. I mean it's clear Jimin has cared for Jungkook deeply since debut but I feel the way he displayed it, so loudly and sometimes almost obnoxiously, acted as a key stabilizing and assuring force for JK in an environment that could've easily overwhelmed him.

This is a fresh take on the whole dynamic. I’ve never thought of it from this perspective or never seen anyone else point it out. Is it a popular thought? I felt that Jimin was only playing the extremely manly flirty character that he was asked to play and it’s the popular theory too. Tho’ it wasn’t sitting well because this is the same guy who gave JHope his fan letters and questioned stereotypes and was ok with wearing a pink dress in AHL etc etc.

***

Yeah… I’m not sure I can call it a theory, not to talk of if it's popular. It’s just how I saw them at the time, and it still feels consistent with how I’ve seen their interactions and relationship progress.

Jimin had his role to play in the group just as they all did. That’s true. But I also think, with what we know of Jungkook’s personality and their environment, their relationship could be easily explained, considering.

I mean, let’s think about it. The idol industry is incredibly fast-paced, hectic beyond what anyone can imagine, Jungkook was still in school when they debuted and had to juggle their activities with his classes. We know that when Jimin was still in school, he’d wake up at 6:30 AM and then after school, practice till around 2:30 AM before going to bed. We know from jikook’s words that Jungkook was often with him for some of this time, sometimes even sleeping with him in the practice room. So, JK was putting in work too, perhaps not to the same levels Jimin did, but Jungkook was also younger than him. All the guys had big responsibilities already, and it’s clear from footage in their early days that all of them were all just trying to stay afloat mentally, physically, and otherwise.

In that sort of environment, at that period of Jungkook’s development, with his age and what I suspect to be possible neurodivergent traits, it would’ve been very easy for him to get swept away, in a sense. To become overwhelmed and 'detach', develop unhealthy coping habits and such. Jungkook is someone who by his own admission, needs a lot of love. All the members made sure to keep an eye on him, but Jimin seemed to take it upon himself to love Jungkook, loudly. To shower him with attention as though to remind him, "I see you", "I'm watching you", "I'm in your corner always and I'm here for you".

Jimin obviously loved and cared for Jungkook back then, and it was mutual, but the way he went about showing it was one of the biggest indications of his emotional intelligence, to me. He was mocked for how he appeared to be all over Jungkook, the members too would make fun of him, but I don't think he was stupidly, blindly 'in love'. At least not quite at that point. I think he showed remarkable awareness of his own emotions, Jungkook's needs, and the environment they were in. And Jimin used all of that to his advantage and to Jungkook's benefit because it served the purpose of emotionally assuring JK, while improving JK's profile within the group (people look more desirable when it seems other people desire them), further building his confidence.

It's remarkable to me that before they debuted when Jungkook got overwhelmed and said he wanted to quit BTS to become a company dancer, the person he went to with that worry was Jimin. Jimin who was the last trainee to join their agency - so, a relatively recent addition to the group. That, to me, shows one way their bond was already quite deep, even back then, a connection that I think Jimin was intentional on developing with Jungkook. When they had their infamous rainy day fight, when all the other members sort of tossed their hands in the air after letting loose on JK, it sticks out to me that the breaking point for Jungkook was Jimin telling him, "You know what, do whatever you like. I won't care for you anymore."

Jimin's presence in Jungkook's life can't be overstated. I think over time, as Jungkook grew up and matured, he recognized how integral Jimin was to him, began to better acknowledge Jimin's needs as well and their relationship became deeper, more reciprocal and balanced. And that's how we ended up with GCF in Tokyo, as an example. I also feel this 'dance' of recognizing each other's needs and loving each other in-line with their personal boundaries, is an ongoing process for them.