#that interaction and what happens after feels like such a huge thing and i don't think it gets enough attention for how big important it is

[masterwords]

Your opinion matters to me. || 4x01 - Mayhem

Well I am tired of it. || 7x09 - Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

[scarletfasinera]

Worst thing a writer of a book can make me deal with is talk to me like I'm an idiot who can't understand books while I'm actively reading the book they wrote

[yeahxsurexokay13]

cat's outta the bag, lando norris

summary: after lando's win with y/n back in the mclaren garage, fans now have to go back to getting used to not seeing the actress and the driver together anymore... or not.

warnings: the 'monaco may gala' is made up, as everyone would've guessed. and i think that's it really.

this is part 2 to ideal weekend requested by @maysofi and @nan-lzzn. not sure if it's just me not knowing how to work tumblr or what but i couldn't reply to your comments /: but here you go!! hope it lives up to your guys' expectations x

y/n.y/l

Liked by landonorris and 1.200.329 others

y/n.y/l la dolce vita

view all 2.086 comments

username Just stunning ❤️

username is your diet in italy going to consist of pasta and aperol spritzes?

y/n.y/l and the occasional tiramisu when i feel fancy

username Lando liked but no comment... Back to being friends in the shadows it is

username i was also hoping for an oscar comment

username NOT YN IN ITALY THE SAME WEEK OF THE ITALIAN GP

username last time this happened we got y/n back in the mclaren garage!!! i'm not saying it'll happen again but.....

username AND we also got a Lando win!!!

username will you be there the whole week?

username you really did clear your schedule to attend every race like you told Lando, huh? 😂😂😂

username can u accidentally spoil the release date for obx4 pls

y/n.y/l missy, that's illegal!

username says the one who spoiled the release date for obx3

username that's how she knows lol

username Italy suits you so well

username the duality of y/n y/l omg

username IF SHE ACTUALLY GOES TO THE RACE ON SUNDAY I AM GOING TO COMPLETELY LOSE IT

username everybody filming y/n:

username SO REAL 😂

username Huge obsession with you!!!!

15 May 2024

ynupdates

Liked by username and 1.208 others

ynupdates 📸 | New pictures of Y/n this morning. Apparently she flew home from Italy with Lando and Oscar, who raced in the Italian Grand Prix yesterday.

view all 293 comments

username Y/NLANDO CRUMBS WHO CHEERED

username ok but where is the pic with oscar

username are we sure this isn't the plot of a rom-com?

username every time I see them together I get my hopes up again 😩

username These two need to either get back together or start hating each other for my sanity, my heart can't take this friendly exes thing

username same!! like ok it is adorable but also torture

username not us asking for a social media interaction and getting a whole ass reunion !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username I need details ASAP

username Her not going to the race but flying back home with Lando and Oscar is the unexpected content I didn't know I needed 😲😲

username from 1 to 10 how stupid am i for thinking they might get back together

username 11 lol

username this has me screAMING

20 May 2024

mclaren

Liked by username and 2.091.134 others

mclaren An elite squad backing the papaya brigade at Monaco GP 🧡

view all 4.273 comments

username MASON FREAKING MOUNT AND PHIL FREAKING FODEN AAAAAHHHHHH someone better get me a picture of those two with lando and oscar i'm begging

username STOP EVERYTHING!!! last slide?!??

username hate when celebrities fake an interest in f1 just for the publicity

username pls y/n literally dated one of the mclaren drivers 😭😭😭 she's been involved in f1 since 2021

username and mason's mentioned liking f1 a million times in interviews

username will never get used to seeing y/n attending in the capacity of a celebrity and not as lando's partner

username not spiderman at the Monaco gp🫡🫡

tommyhilfiger Our dear Y/n ❤️

username is she there with them?

username they saw the tweets and said "hold up, let me make sure y/n actually shows up this time so fans don't come at us again"

username @/username I don't think so because I'm pretty sure Tommy works with Mercedes but it would've been hilarious

username I am legit SCREAMING with excitement!!

username what if we get another lando win with y/n there😭😭😭😭

username I really don't want to get my hopes up about y/nlando but they're making it so hard to not let delusion win

username girl i feel like i could pull myself out of this delusion anytime but i just LOVE living in it

username so like i know they're there for mclaren but i would do ANYTHING for a pic of tom holland with George

username McLaren is winning both on and off the track!!

username my favourite celebs and my favourite team together??! sign me up

26 May 2024

lando.jpg

Liked by martingarrix and 389.982 others

lando.jpg Cat's outta the bag part 2

view all 2.981 comments

username SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

username PIC 3 IS FROM MAY GALA DAY SHE WAS WITH HIM IN MONACO WE WERE RIGHT

username we do make a lot guesses based on literally nothing but some how we always (most times) end up being right

francisca.cgomes Excited for my baby to be back to being a regular at race weekends @.y/n.y/l ❤️

username cause of death: pic 1

username ON THE JPG ACCOUNT 😭😭😭

username the real question is: can lando fight??

lando.jpg i can

oscarpiastri I don't think cat was ever in the bag, mate

lando.jog we tried 🤷🏽‍♂️

username HARD LAUNCH IS ABSOLUTELY HARD LAUNCHING OMFG

username children of divorce no morEEEEE

username the 'part 2' is sending me looool but I'm so happy omg

username i don't get it could you explain?

username he wrote the same caption when he posted the first pictures with her in 2021 :)

username someone pinch me 😭😭😭😭😭 i missed them sm

carlossainz55 Happy for you, cabrón! ❤️

username parents are back together!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc LET’S GOOOOO!!!! ❤️

username always had a feeling he too was a y/nlando shipper

username I'M GONNA CRY

y/n.y/l absolutely no one saw this coming

y/n.y/l i love uuuu!! <333

landonorris I love you ❤️

username AND I LOVE YOU PLEASE NEVER BREAK UP AGAIN

username it's him changing accounts for me

[eskumii]

soft yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha x reader hcs

TITLE: " BAD ROMANCE " — navi. — read part two.

A/N: i'm clearing out my drafts ,, was in a huge naruto phase when i started this blog!

☆ genin sasuke is pretty mean. he doesn't notice you for your looks, personality, or even your prowess as a young kunoichi. you're just... you. in which, you don't cling to him like sakura does, and you aren't delusional like ino is. you're just okay at first, and there's not much he can go off of when he never really interacts with you. it's nothing personal, really.

☆ although sasuke is typically not a stranger to the prospect of romance, the reason why he doesn't indulge is simply because he fails to understand what romance is. if sasuke is anything, he's aware; of his surroundings, the people in it, and the turmoil that churns inside of him. the more he loves, the more he'll eventually hate, so he gathers that there's no room for it in his life. it's his curse to bear.

☆ genin sasuke would eventually notice you after being placed on team seven together, of course. you're pretty hard to ignore from thereon. in between the bouts of sakura clobbering him and naruto screaming in his face, his eyes are on you. both naruto and sakura wear the extent of their capabilities on their sleeves, but you're hard to read and that intrigues sasuke.

☆ it's not until much later that sasuke notices his feelings for you are much different than before. after all the trouble you've been through together (near death experiences & the dreadful antics of naruto), he feels like he's finally got a foothold on what it is that makes you so interesting. he's not a moron—yes, it would appear that he does like you beyond the "like" that he holds for the rest of team seven. however, it's such a foreign feeling that he's not even sure how to handle it, being that he's never had to deal with it before. does he tell you? does he not? would you even feel the same?

☆ in the end, sasuke shows his fondness for you in more subtle ways. it's not really his style to outright confess. sometimes he'll ask you to spar with him (alone, which he stresses), or he'll happen to have a "spare" tomato (or onigiri, if you don't like tomatoes) on him when you complain about being hungry during missions. if you get ambushed by rogue ninja on a mission, he'll instinctively step in front of you, or if you're out of kunai he'll lend you a couple of his—things like that. he's quite thoughtful when he wants to be.

☆ even under sasuke's merciful tolerance of you, you're not off-limits when it comes to his biting insults and sarcastic comments. normally he doesn't speak much but with you he becomes rather talkative, if you can even call it that. when someone else tries to butt in, sasuke's brooding and murderous glares scare them away. they should really know better than to talk to you when he's around.

☆ sakura obviously hates that you've suddenly become the apple of sasuke's eye when she's been vying after him since their early days at the academy. you're not even that pretty, honestly. but any attempt to sabotage you or make you look like a fool in front of sasuke is thwarted... by sasuke. he always thought of sakura like a whining gnat in his ear so it's amusing to see her cry when he blatantly ignores her for messing with you.

☆ when sasuke leaves the village, you're the first person he visits beforehand. you're asleep but that's just fine; actually, it's perfect because you don't see how he gently caresses your hair and how he gives you a kiss on your forehead. you don't hear him when he finally admits that he likes you. loves you, even. you don't hear him when he says he wishes he could take you with him.

☆ but don't worry, he'll be back for you...

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[angelltheninth]

Valorant Agents Develop Feelings for You

Pairing: Phoenix, Sova, Viper, Reyna, Jett, Chamber, Fade, Harbor, Skye, Iso x Reader

Tags: fluff, co-workers, first kiss, battlefield flirting, crushes, protectiveness, love confession

A/N: Despite being not good at games like Valorant I also can't stay away. It's not a problem.

Phoenix takes a while to develop feelings for you but he is protective from the start. He knows what it was like for him when he was a new Agent and he wants to make sure that you feel welcome. When he realizes he's falling for you he doesn't confess right away, and certainly not while you're on duty, he doesn't want any added pressure on either of you during missions.

Sova flirts with you hard from the moment you arrive so it's hard to tell when exactly he develops feelings for you. His behavior remains the same for the most part and you already know he enjoys flustering you. It's really up to him to confess, you don't really know when he's being serious about his feelings unless he makes it completely clear to you. That's not your fault , he knows that but he hopes that a kiss will make it clear.

Viper was in full denial of her feelings for you. She tried to distance herself from you when she started to see the signs of a crush happening. She hurt many people and she doesn't want to add you to that list, the only problem is that there is no real way to fully avoid you, to stifle out her emotions and stop herself from falling harder for you.

Reyna looks after you when you first join, giving you advice and guidance on missions, giving you tips during training. Most figure that she's simply being helpful but they don't notice the way she often looks at you, the smiles and kisses she plants on your hand for a job well done. She is making her feelings for you as clear as possible without outright saying she's in love with you.

Jett may be good at obstacle courses but she's not good at avoiding her feelings or yours. She responds well to flirting or banter, even on missions. much to the annoyance of your other teammates and friends. Many tell you two to get a room already, advice which she decides to take to heart when she confesses to you, unable to keep her feelings to herself anymore.

Chamber acts like a player and heartbreaker all the time, he has quite a reputation to go with that persona as well. In fact you were a bit suspicious of his intentions when he started flirting with you, but you didn't want to be rude and avoid him. He would wink at you before taking a shot and deliberately brush his arm against yours when passing you in the hall, he never denied being attracted to you, you just need to figure it out.

Fade doesn't mind flirting when it's still harmless but the moment it starts to get serious for the two of you she starts to interact with you less. The last thing she wants is to be the reason the person she likes has nightmares constantly or starts to hate her because of her powers. As you keep flirting with she realizes that she's the one who's scared now, she can't be scared forever, she wants to live a happy life with you instead.

Harbor will use his missions as an excuse to not fully commit to what he really wants, which is to have a relationship with you. Maybe he does spend the night when he has days off but he's also gone just as quickly so it can't possibly work out between the two. That's what he says to himself. Until you tell him you'll be waiting for him right before he leaves for his next mission. You'll wait. For him.

Skye gets flustered quite easily for someone who can be so fierce during battle. When you flirt with her she says a few things back to you and then leave before you can see her getting flustered over her own words. It takes you pulling you down for a kiss for her to realize that you don't want to keep flirting while being friends, you want her to be your girlfriend, you're serious about her.

Iso is a huge flirt, he loves making you blush, what you don't know is that he's using flirting to avoid his real feelings for you. From the moment he saw you he felt a connection and a pull towards you and at first he didn't think it went beyond a crush. However when you started flirting back and kissing his cheek for a job well done he began to see things more clearly. The last thing you expected was for the confession to come in the middle of a battlefield when he pulled you out of a line of fire and into his dimension.

[lych33dragoncookie]

Only the masterpieces that survive the fiercest flames earn their place in history.

(Analysis post)

Alright, they absolutely cooked this update. Like, undeniably so. I was admittedly not that huge of a fan of the last 2 beast yeast chapters we got; they had really good ideas, and Mystic Flour is a wonderful character, but... Dark Cacao hasn't really been done enough with for it to feel like it had the amount of weight it could have, and it really doesn't feel like much about him actually changed at all. Combine that with a complete lack of interesting dynamics and you have a lot of very good and genuinely pretty well thought out story concepts with extensive cultural research, executed in a way that feels more like a traditional old-school story that weakens the attachment the audience feels to the components of said story.

Here, though? I have no complaints so far. It was absolutely wild in fact, to the point where I don't think it's gonna happen again (nor am I entirely sure it should ever happen again). This was back to back, non-stop, smack to the face one after the other. The moment the first point of conflict came up, it was just shit happening left and right; even in the mandatory moment of rest where we chill out for a bit, it's revealed that hey, these sandstorms? Yeah the sand is actually ashes. It's the remains of all the people that live here. Whether they died off on their own or were killed by someone else.

And if that wasn't enough, very shortly after;

... It's fucking crack.

So, people die and kill each other here very frequently, and not only are their remains visibly on display, their ashes also become sandstorms that make it near impossible to navigate the land; on top of being something that people snort like cocaine to become more energetic and aggressive.

We started fucking wild, dude. This whole thing is pulling no punches.

Though, I do wanna note; I really, really enjoyed the interactions between Smoked Cheese and Golden Cheese. It shows not only how forgiving she is, but how these two have known each other for an incredibly long time, and know each other well. They're incredibly comfortable around each other, despite it all, and despite how brazen and Very Much Not Strategic the queen here can be. I really, really enjoyed them.

Always fun to see a recovering villain do things for good, but in their own unique way that's still not exactly heroic but definitely effective and, at times, very gratifying.

Though I enjoyed all this, there's one thing I wanna talk about above all else.

The star of the show. Note that every single part was enjoyable, of course, and he wouldn't be half as interesting without Golden Cheese Cookie to serve as a parallel, but they've cooked up something special here.

So far, Burning Spice's extent of onscreen appearance is very, very short, but... I don't think I need to tell you that he's already made an impact and a half.

Christ, that's violent. With the sound effects and everything too, god damn. But, I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a pretty superficial source of judgement for this character. It's very very telling of what kind of person he is now, what he's all about, what he's willing to do, what he likes doing, but...

More than anyone else in recent memory, the devil is in the details. So let's look at those details.

Nothing too much so far, other than how much he absolutely loves destruction, but there's already a trend; namely on "Nothing lasts forever. It's as simple as that", "In the end, everything becomes dust.", and "You, too, shall see that destruction is the only way.". There seems to be an infatuation with the natural process of everything fading away, turning to dust and dying out. An entirely honest one, believing that there is just about nothing else to life. These will be important to keep in mind.

Here, we see a bit of his current relationship with his own immortality. He doesn't seem to mind the idea of losing it, finding something that may eventually take him down, but he still takes great pride in it. These lines, in text, seem somewhat miserable (and trust me, they definitely are), but the voicework in just about every language conveys that they are said in a more neutral, even potentially proudly manner. Again, not much on their own, but...

Here's where we get into the fun part.

This. This is the crux of their character. At the start, him and Golden Cheese cookie were more or less the same. Benevolent royalty, close and personal with their subjects. Beloved, and loving.

And then, they lost it all.

One way or another, their kingdoms were lost, reduced to almost nothing. They were overcome by grief, desperate, unable to cope with their loss. One tried to latch on as hard as possible. Preserve what she could, blindly, replacing the harsh truth of reality with an idealized, constructed world, where no one would ever have to know pain ever again. She shut herself off, and retreated in the safety and peace of a false reality. She would rather have lied to both herself and all her subjects than face reality. And eventually, she had to learn to move on. Let herself and her kingdom heal more naturally, facing reality. The other, meanwhile, was desperate to let go. He detached himself, trying to move past the pain of loss. But, of course, he couldn't force it to happen. No one can. And so with the grief of losing that which he held dear, continuing to be faced with the reality that nothing is forever, over and over, while he endured, the world slowly turning to ash around them again and again... It's no wonder something in there eventually cracked.

What will it take to destroy me. Nothing is forever, and yet, I am.

Nothing is forever. And yet, I am.

With time, misery turned to mania, and in an attempt to overcome their grief, they embraced it, in the worst way possible. A coping mechanism gone horrendously wrong. That destruction, that loss, the inevitability of death... It's not painful, no. It doesn't have to be. It can be thrilling. Exhilarating. A new reason to live. If all you care about turns to dust anyways, if that's really the only logical destination... Why not have some fun with it? Why not embody that inevitable, unstoppable force? Why not become what you fear, so you no longer have to be afraid anymore?

... You know, at least that's what I think is going on here. The next chapter could contradict this reading, but... From what all we have right now, it seems like Golden Cheese and Burning Spice are two completely different paths for the exact same type of pain. They are, in a way, the same, but diverge in almost complete opposite ways where it counts.

Spice is genuinely equal parts absolutely terrifying and absolutely miserable; a balance that is incredibly hard to strike in writing, but always absolutely fascinating and wonderful to observe when it happens. I have to say, the more I found out about them, the more I couldn't keep my eyes off everything they have going on.

I'm loving every little bit of this update. Mad props to the devs for cooking something up here that I am genuinely incredibly invested in, almost to the same degree as White Lily and Dark Enchantress. Banger update. Absolute S tier material.

TL;DR: Burning Spice is terrifying, miserable, and ridiculously cool. Everything about this update was an absolute merciless flurry of consecutive gut-punches. And I loved every second of it.

... Now we sit and wait for Shadow Milk's release next year.

[kedreeva]

#we spoke of this a LOT at work after that one tech was murdered and hidden in a wall

hi!👋 hello! kedreeva! i’m going to need to ask you to explain this!!!!

So back in 2009, a lab student named Annie Le was murdered at Yale university. Cameras saw her going on into a building, but not out again and it was like, the eve of her wedding (or close to? I don't remember) so clearly she had places to be and people waiting for her so they immediately started looking and the next day (or so? Anyway on the day of her wedding) they found her body in a recess in a wall, down in the areas where the research animals were kept. It turns out, a tech had killed her, but since there were cameras like EVERYWHERE, he just, I guess, left her there. Well, hid the body where it was. I don't remember how they caught him, but they did. It was a horrifying story. It still is.

And it was a huge news story among the folks at my workplace because, at the time, I was working at a different university, as an animal husbandry technician. As you can imagine this was a kind of intense time to be in that situation. They started offering, like, I'm not gonna say counseling but it was "if you need to talk we would prefer you talk to us about something wrong rather than kill anyone about it" and as techs (even if we were not even the same kind of tech, the killer was a lab tech and we were husbandry techs but I think a lot of people assumed it had been a husbandry tech since she was in an animal area), we were kind of getting the side eye from lab people for weeks afterwards. Like they thought we were gonna go "wow that's a fantastic idea, you're next!" or something, idk. And I mean like, people would freeze when you were alone in a hallway, or turn and walk the other way, or duck into the nearest room and watch you walk past, and they were all being super nice/civil to us when they did have to interact. It was very atypical behavior for lab people. Like not all of them, some of them had always been nice and weren't worried, but some of the people who had been unbelievable dicks previously were walking on eggshells. And the people who had friends in other universities reported this was happening at their jobs, too.

And instead of talking to The Man (because all the higher ups were garbage at the time), we just. talked among ourselves. It was a lot of "I may say I feel like strangling lab people sometimes when they do things that drive me up a wall but I don't MEAN it you know that right" and it also led to group discussions of what would be a theoretical *better* solution to hiding a body than what happened, with clear disdain for doing things like hiding bodies in walls, which is a terrible idea and one we would never do (looking at the people who think we might have decided this was a great idea actually).

Which consequently led to a lot of supervisors and/or managers that happened to overhear us bringing us donuts or arranging pizza for lunch in like, some kind of bid to help us feel appreciated, I guess, so that we wouldn't murder anyone, even though none of us were going to do that anyway. But also none of us were in a position to turn down free donuts or pizza or whatever.

And then after a few weeks, maybe a month or so, people just kind of forgot and moved on and things went back to normal like fifty people hadn't spent every lunch hour for weeks talking quietly among themselves about how human bodies would definitely fit into a carcass disposal barrel or that you'd have to crush hip bones and/or skulls before incineration. Hypothetically.

Like I said, it was a VERY weird time to be at my job, and every time I remember it happening feels like a fever dream. I can't even imagine what it was like at Yale.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my her ex I read her poetry?

I (F19) dated my ex (F18, Lacy) for about 9 months. I broke up with her because she had a lot of issues I just didn't know how to deal with and I also fell in love with my best friend (NB19, Alex, he/his pronouns), so I decided it was the best course of action. I broke up with Lacy on January of 2023 and started dating Alex in February.

Around this time, I found an Instagram account that posted poetry. There was nothing that could identify the author, but the poetry was really good so I started to follow them. With time, however, the poems started to look... familiar. Not the writing style, but some situations on them, for example: one of them said something like "your brother's night sky truck that took us to the stars" (my older brother has a dark blue truck he would lend me so I could take Lacy on dates) and another said "that old guitar you had that you never learned to play like you played me" (I have an old guitar I inherited from my father and I indeed never learned how to play it). These are only two examples, but I found many others that convinced me that account belonged to Lacy.

I know I should have left it alone the second I realized the account belonged to her, but it was so flattering to see she wrote all of that about me. I didn't tell anyone, not my friends or Alex, but I kept following the account and reading Lacy's poetry. I think my feelings for her started to rekindle after that, because no one ever wrote about me like that and, as months passed, she kept writing about me. She never got over me.

My relationship with Alex also started to have problems during this time. He got a job at an ice cream parlour and he started a D&D campain with his friends, which means we started to spend less and less time together. He didn't seem to be as interested in me as he was during our first months of relationship, and I feel like he's taking me for granted. Lately, more specifically since December, we started to fight a lot over small things too.

We went to a New Year's party one of our friends was hosting and Lacy was there too. That enough was reason for Alex to start complaining, since he has a lot of feelings of jealousy regarding her. We ended up having a fight because he thought I knew she'd be there, which I didn't, and he went to stay with our friends, avoiding me the whole night.

It was New Year's eve and I had just fought with my partner, who was monopolizing all of our friends and leaving me by myself, so I started to drink. I know that wasn't a good idea, but I was angry and frustrated and I thought that would help. It didn't, I just got super drunk.

Since my filter disappears when I'm drunk, I went after Lacy and told her her poetry was really good. At first she was confused, so I said I found her poetry account and her poems were amazing, and I was flattered she still thought about me like that, because I didn't think anyone else ever saw me in such a beautiful way.

After that, the panic in her eyes became clear. She started to cry, not full on sobbing but some tears rolled down her face and she didn't answer me, just left. Alex saw the interaction and came to ask me what happened. I ended up telling him about Lacy's poetry account, we fought again and I decided to go home. In that same night, I searched for the poetry account and it was deleted.

This whole situation didn't leave my head since it happened and I don't know what to think. Alex has also been avoiding me and I don't understand why everyone seems to be against me. Lacy blocked me everywhere and I'm beginning to think leaving her for Alex was a huge mistake. It was also never my intention to make Lacy feel like she had to delete her account.

AITA for telling her I knew about the poetry account?

What are these acronyms?

[spiceofvy]

heey i love everything you write and ive been trying to come up with the courage to request this scenario:

scenario/reaction to their s/o fem9th member!reader playing the pepero game with other member or maybe be challenged to play w/ a guy from another group?

i just love the idea of them being jealous on camera and not being able to act cool at all

SKZ - Jealous SKZ on a show

a/n: thank you so much for reqeuesting!!! please don't be nervous about sending me asks, i swear i'm nice :,) i was also really wanting to write some 9th member!reader for some time, so i was really excited to write this!

cws: fem!9th member!reader, reader is the maknae, fluff, some jaelousy, non toxic jealousy, reader having to do the pepero challenge with a stranger, mentions of sexism (Jeongin)

Chan: So we all know that livestream where he was super mad at staff right? That is him at this moment. He is so angry. He is such a protective leader and this is the straw that breaks the camel's back. It started when your stylist put you into a way to short dress. Which hem you've been pulling down the whole time. And this game is the end of his patience. He won't intervene during the show, but afterwards he will do everything he can to make sure that all of SKZ never has to do something like this again. He feels terrible that it even got so far, and apologizes profusely to you later.

Minho: No. This is not happening. He won't let this happen. After the MC read out the challenge he just starts laughing obnoxiously loud and fake. Making everyone around him give him weird looks. "No but what is the task?" He asks and when the MC repeats it he interrupts them and asks that question again. He does that until everyone is uncomfortable enough to just skip the challenge. He will get a huge lecture from the manager later but he doesn't care. Climbs into your bed at night holding you tightly.

Changbin: He gets so whiny. Making a huge scene. "No! Not our poor innocent y/n!" He is super dramatic and hugs you tightly. He turns all the attention from you and your challenge to himself until everyone forgot about it. Afterward, he gets cuddly, clinging to you the whole time, grumbling about the MC and the stupid game. Wants some praise for protecting his baby so well, and keeping her away from weird dudes.

Hyunjin: Side eye. He is judging the MC. He is judging the member of the other group. He is judging the crew. He is judging his manager who let you do this. He coughs loudly when you play the game, making the other guy flinch, breaking the cookie early, preventing him from getting too close to you. Afterward, he is cuddly, touching you through the rest of the show. Scaring anyone off from making you do anything weird for the rest of the show.

Jisung: He also gets whiny. And pouty. And loud. "We can't have our Maknae's Innocence be tainted! Someone protect heeeeeeeer!" He makes such a big scene, including: fake crying, clinging to you, and holding you back from getting to your seat. Does this until the only thing that goes viral is him being a baby instead of you almost kissing some random dude. Will cuddle you afterwards. No matter if in public or not. Maybe if he is really anxious that day this could also lead to him getting a bit insecure. Please hold him that night, he needs it.

Felix: He is not a jealous person. He's fine with you hugging Seungmin, or even falling asleep cuddling Jisung. He loves how close the group is with each other, you are a big family. But he despises how this guy is suddenly getting close to you. Especially with all those cameras on you filming your interaction. Offers to do the challenge instead of you. Everyone thinks he is joking but he is so not. The video low key goes viral, so many edits afterward. But he takes all the scandalous articles, if that is what it means for you to be comfortable.

Seungmin: He is such a bitch. Not to you but the other guy. When you pull away he loudly declares "He must have really bad breath when y/n pulls away this early". He makes everyone on set laugh about that guy. Behind the scenes, he gives him dirty looks. He is more jealous than he would like to let on. He is also very clingy afterward. Unusually clingy actually. This will start some sort of scandal but he doesn't care, for him this was all worth it.

Jeongin: Won't react openly. Just smiles along and buries his fingers in his clothes. Trying to hide his anger. Stares at the game making sure that the other guy won't get too close to you. Won't be very reactive during the rest of the show, just a little bit more touchy with you. He will be so mad after it though, making a huge deal of the fact that "they only made her do it because she is the only girl. That's so sexist." Which is very right actually. He is super protective from now on, letting no stranger get too close to you. Huge cuddle session later in bed, holding you super tight, still bothered about the situation.

[7seas-of-ryy]

I Need You | Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Author’s Note: I have a few fic ideas that would be set when the reader first gets to the Night Court. I also have more Azriel imagines planned that wouldn't be in this series so look out for those! Thank you so much for all of the comments and love on this story, I appreciate it more than you know! <33

Summary: After months of healing, there is still something weighing you down and Azriel wants nothing more than to help you.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: bad body image, nudity but not straight up smut, let me know if I need to add any others :)

A few months had passed since everything happened and you were feeling better for the most part. Azriel had more than proved himself and you two were best friends again. You now trained with the Valkyries and enjoyed their company. You had also been helping Amren out with translating old texts a lot lately.

You enjoyed having work to do, you started to feel like your old self again. But there were still a few things that gnawed at you.

The main thing were the scars. The physical reminder of what you went through weighed you down. You covered yourself up as much as you could everyday so no one else saw them.

This seemed to be working for you until one day, Azriel came up to you with a big smirk on his face.

"I got you a present!" the still smirking male told you

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop buying me presents!" you told him

You had never received so many presents in your life and you doubt he has ever given this many. It started out small like bringing you a coffee while you worked, then he would buy you little things here and there like a notebook for your research. Eventually, he was buying you more expensive things like jewelry every other day.

Every time you would tell him you didn't need anything, and every time he responded with the same thing - "I can't help myself, I saw it and thought of you"

The butterflies you would feel were always better than the gifts.

Amren was sitting beside you watching the interaction with a smirk on her face.

"Hmm? A chocolate croissant this morning and now another surprise? Two in one day? Seems like a new record." she spoke in a slightly joking tone, enjoying poking fun at the spymaster

You and Az made eye contact and quickly looked away, a slight blush taking over both of your faces.

After his confession all those months ago, you both began to try and be friends again. You knew he was waiting for you to be ready for more but you weren't sure how to go about it all. It was easier to push those thoughts away for now.

Deciding to help the shadowsinger escape all the joking, you stood up to go to him. He held his hand out to you, and led you up to your room. Before entering, he put his hands over your eyes, using them as a blind fold.

"Is this really necessary?" you giggled

"Of course it is! Now walk forward" he told you and you could hear the smile in his voice

You walked, well shuffled, into your room with him close behind you. He started a countdown.

"3...2...1...Open!" he shouted, removing his hands

On the wall in front of your bed was a brand new mirror. Dread filled your body. The thought of having to see yourself every time you changed made you want to vomit.

Azriel of course noticed the reaction and immediately began to worry.

"What's wrong? You don't like it? I knew it was stupid, Cass helped me pick it out and he has the worst taste." Az babbled on.

"No, I love it." You told him. If you let him know you didn't want it, then he would want to know the real reason. You couldn't explain it all to him right now.

He gave you a look that showed he didn't fully believe you but he decided to let it go.

You gave him a hug and thanked him for it. It truly was a beautiful mirror. It was huge and had the most detailed golden flowers all around it. Perhaps you could focus on that and not the nasty marks that littered your body.

Night time came faster than you would have liked and the thought of changing in front of the mirror seemed like too much. You knew you needed to do this, another step in the healing process.

Eventually you made your way up to your room and began to get ready for bed.

You started to peel off your clothes from the day, breathing through each piece that came off. Once you were fully naked you couldn't take your eyes off of your body.

How would anyone be able to find you beautiful when you looked like this? You wrapped your arms around your stomach as tears sprung to your eyes. You began to softly cry.

Suddenly, you saw movement in the mirror behind you. You lifted your head until you were making eye contact with Azriel through the mirror.

Shadows shot out to cover you, helping you keep your modesty.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked

The name only made you shudder, knowing he wouldn't call you that after seeing your body.

"I'm hideous. My body doesn't even look like its mine anymore." you voice cracked

His heart broke for you, and he ached to hold you.

"Can I come closer?" He asked

You nodded and he walked until he was behind you, so close you could feel his chest as he took a breath.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He stated and laid his hands on your shoulders, moving them down your arm until they rested on top of your hands. He laced his fingers with yours and kissed the back of your head.

"You haven't even truly seen me to know that." you said

"I don't need to see you to know that it is true. But if you think that, then show me." he stated

"What?" you couldn't believe your ears.

"If you're comfortable, let me see." he spoke confidently

You nodded and let him know it was ok to remove the shadows. He bent down and placed a light kiss on your shoulder, right on one of the marks, then on another right next to it.

Slowly the shadows pulled away from your body and you were left compeltely naked. He was staring at your body through the mirror, in awe of you.

He walked til he was standing in front of you.

"Just tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable." He whispered

You nodded and he got even closer. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed a scar on your palm. Then moved to the other arm and kissed a scar by your elbow. He got down on his knees and looked up at you through his lashes.

"Beautiful" he said right before kissing a rather large scar on your stomach.

He didn't stop until he kissed every mark and scar on your body. He stood up and took your face in his hands.

"Yep, its just as I thought, you are the most beautiful being that I have ever seen." He spoke as he leaned down to your face

"But I'm broken, these scare are proof" you cried

"These scars are proof of your strength. When I look at you, I don't see anything broken. I see the the love of my life. I see intelligence, kindness, power... I see my mate." he confessed

You inhaled sharply and were confused until you felt it too. A tiny pull on your chest as if someone was tugging a string attached to you.

"You're my mate," he smiled then stopped himself, "I found out when Lucien carried you through the doors and none of us knew if you were even alive. I didn't want to tell you because of everything going on and I wanted to earn your love, didn't want you to feel pressured into anything."

You were so shocked, you still hadn't spoken. In a way, you were glad he kept it from you. If you had known he was your mate you aren't sure what you would've done. All of the trauma you went through must've stopped you from feeling it too.

"I understand if you don't want to accept it. After everything I did-" he started but you immediately shut down that thought

"You have more than proven yourself to me Az. You are my mate and there is nothing that could change that" You told him.

He growled softly when you called him your mate.

You both continued smiling at each other, wrapped in each other's arms.

"If you'll let me, I'd like to continue worshipping you for the rest of the night." he purred.

"It's only fair, you did say you loved groveling" you whispered and he smiled and leaned in.

"Wait!" you quickly said placing a hand on his chest.

He looked confused but you ran over to your bedside table and grabbed the chocolate croissant he had gotten you earlier. You handed it to Az with a smile.

"Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?" he questioned

"It is the only thing I have been certain of in a long time." you responded and he ate some of the pastry.

He set the food down and put one of his hands on your waist, the other on your neck. Slowly he leaned in and placed a soft and gentle kiss on your lips. You wrapped your hands in his hair and pulled him down for a much longer, more passionate one and he grunted into your mouth.

The frenzy quickly kicked in and Azriel ended up worshipping your body for the next couple of days.

You still weren't fully healed and you probably wouldn't be for a while but that was okay because you had Azriel and the rest of your family to help you get there.

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[queenimmadolla]

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son. 

  Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.

  Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.

  “Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt. 

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”

  “Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.” 

  “I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.

  Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise. 

  Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving. 

  “Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food. 

  “With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed. 

  The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs. 

  You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.

  “You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’

  “—I don’t snore.”

  “—And looking like you were in a coma.”

  Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.

  “Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.

  “Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”

  You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head. 

  You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”

  Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering. 

  Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose. 

  You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”

  Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed. 

  “Eat.”

  He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster. 

  While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.

  You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.

  And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.

  When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow. 

  “He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.

  He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.

  “Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”

  “You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.

  “You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”

  He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”

  You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.

  He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted. 

  “Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you. 

  “Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.

  “You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.” 

  Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.

  “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”

  The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.

  “You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”

  Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.

  He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love. 

  It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion. 

  The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really. 

  Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.

  For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.

  You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.

  It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.

  Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room. 

  He held you in your bed while you both cried. 

  And cried.

  And cried.

  Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you. 

  When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.

  “Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.

  “Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.

  “Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”

  Halle-freaking-lujah. 

  Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.

  “I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”

  Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.

  “I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”

  The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.

  “Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”

  Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.

  You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.

  Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.

  Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes. 

  When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him. 

  “My little baby potatoes.”

  “He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”

  “I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”

  “Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore. 

  “Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”

  Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”

  “Pomise?”

  “I promise.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”

  “Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”

  Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of  the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.

  Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.

  Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways. 

  Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.

  After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.

  It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged. 

  You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit. 

  Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.

  Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you. 

  “What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.

  You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well. 

  “Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”

  The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her. 

  You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time. 

  It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.

  GOOD.

  On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.

  “Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.

  It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been. 

  Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat. 

  “Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”

  “I wanna see ‘em!”

  “You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out. 

  Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head. 

  Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one. 

  “You wanna hold him?”

  “Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.

  “Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.

  “‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”

  “Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.

  “He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”

  Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”

  “Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”

  “I heard you, his name is Wayne.”

  Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.

  “Wha—?”

  “His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”

  Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. 

  “‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times. 

  “I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.

  “When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”

  Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him. 

  Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete. 

  “So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”

  Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line. 

  Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”

  Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy. 

  Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”

  “Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”

  “Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.

  “Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”

  “No, Penny.”

  After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.

  You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.

  On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show. 

  “Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention. 

The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”

[n3rdy247]

HELLOO!!

can i just get a john dory x female reader! headcanons!

john dory met while crashing the wedding and immediately started to flirt with dispite just meeting her. 🫣

THANK YOU!!

HIYAAA!! CAN YOU??? 🤔🤔🤔

girl be so fr OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!

ALL ABOAAAARD THE JOHN DORY X FEM!READER HCS!!!!! WOOOOOOOOO

Okay, so, you know the whole 'watching a cute, romantic ass wedding' plans everyone had for today? Just...watching two bergens have a nice, uninterrupted marriage?

"STOP THE WEDDING!!!"

well fuck those plans. ★ Starting off the bat, when he was literally parkouring his way down that building which just happened to be the MOMENT he noticed you from the crowd, he couldn't help but throw a wink your way right after (even though he had his goggles on, that stupid mf) which led to him face-planting to the floor because his ass was NOT paying attention to stick the landing. YIKES. ★ He also DOES notice when you are at the edge of your seat to hear what the hell is going on. Apparently, he was Branch's brother (figures since both are fine ash, MUST be in the genetics), he was in a band, and his other hot brother was in danger?

remember the wedding? yeah me neither atp

★ He can't help but steal occasional glances at you when the others talk, and when he does, his smile almost seems to widen, even if it's just for a split second. He just saw you, yet look at you go! Making him all giddy and shit inside 🤭 ★ And whenever Poppy and Branch turn their backs to discuss the whole situation, you just KNOW he would be smirking at you with a smug-ass grin, trying to strike up a conversation. Keyword? TRYING.

"Soo...come here often?" lord almighty sir THIS IS A WEDDING.

"Damn, I could really go out for some fresh air right now, because I think you took my breath away." SIR WE ARE OUTSIDE WHAT

Needless to say, this man does NOT know how to strike up a convo.

★ If you do end up getting flustered about his horrendous pick-up lines somehow, he will be so fucking proud of himself for getting a reaction out of you, and WILL keep going at it. What a charmer. (Unless you are uncomfortable with that of course, he might not know how to talk to people, but he has human (troll???) decency.) ★ I'm talking him leaning slightly closer to you with half-lidded eyes, a huge smirk plastered on his face as his voice gets lower and lower, though internally I feel like he'd be going 'LET'S FUCKING GOOOO I STILL GOT IT' since he would be a bit unsure if he was doing well in the first place. It's probably been years since he had any sort of interaction with anyone other than Rhonda so it's understandable. ★ Not to mention BROZONE. MY GOD. If you know about his band? NICE! If you don't know anything about it? NICE! Either way, this man will absolutely brag about it to you. Even if it has been AT LEAST 20 YEARS. He will absolutely talk about 'the good old days' as if it was just yesterday. Bro would probably talk about how he wrote the hits "Girl Baby Baby" and "Baby Baby Girl" on the same day. ★And who knows? Maybe at the end of the wedding when sadly he has to go to save his brother with Branch and Poppy, you'll end up getting a way to contact him after the whole thing ends. You will see him sooner than you think, that's for sure though!

(please keep in mind this is the first time I've written any serious headcanons like these and not just stuff like 'he would be a great hugger' or 'he was a 7.5-inch haver 🤯🤯🤯')

GRAAAGH I'M STILL SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS THOUGH, I STILL HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT EVEN IF IT IS SHORT AS HELL

[neuroticboyfriend]

A lot of the time when professionals interact with psychotic people, they try to reduce our distress by getting us to stop believing things. For me, that only made things worse. It was confusing and distressing. I felt angry, scared, and misunderstood. The best way I've found to cope with delusional thinking is something I discovered on my own. I'll give an example here so, huge TW for unreality and paranoia.

Scroll away if you're not able to hear delusional thinking.

Yesterday I started freaking out thinking people could hear my thoughts. This is something I've occasionally experienced since I was a child. When this comes up, I always think there's some massive conspiracy, where everyone can hear my thoughts but they react to me as if they don't hear anything. And they're all in on it. This time, it was triggered by intrusive thoughts that I started judging myself for.

As you can imagine, this is distressing. I started talking to people through my mind, which only made it worse. I couldn't focus on what was happening around me. What I did to reduce that distress is.. weirdly nonchalant. I just sat there and thought "Well, if this is true, it's not like they're going to change how they interact with me. Everything is the same as it was. Nothing I can do about it, might as well just keep on keeping on."

That calmed me down enough to start focusing on what I was doing, and eventually completely forget about it until now. Whenever I try to treat my delusional thinking as something I have to stop immediately... it literally only makes my mind double down. But if I work within what I believe - what I "know" - I can find another way to look at it that isn't so scary.

This works with my hallucinations, too. I sometimes see shadow people; they're more like jump scares than anything. They startle me, and I start to wonder if people I'm looking at are real. But that latter part only really happens if I get fearful of them. To avoid that fear, I try to think of the shadow people as just friends watching over me, checking in. They don't do anything, after all. They just pop up, stand there, and disappear.

(Talk of unreality ends here)

So, yeah. This doesn't work for everyone, and it doesn't always work for me depending on what I'm experiencing/how I'm feeling. But without this, I'd be far worse off; it doesn't take too many missteps for me to spiral. I guess my point is, my reality doesn't have to be "normal" for me to be healthy as a schizophrenic person. It just has to be something I can live with, as happily and safely as possible.

And that's ok. Neurodivergent people are allowed to exist, and some people are helped best by finding ways for them to exist as they are without so much distress - rather than trying to eliminate troubling symptoms entirely.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi,

I am very much not american so I must admit that my first impulse when seeing all the rap/racism discourse was something like "do I really need to consume more american culture, it's fucking everywhere already". Idk but to me it feels like american/english-speaking culture absolutely dominates a lot of the world, sometimes at the cost of out own cultures and languages, if something is in English it is "good", if it is in own own languages it is "bad". Musicians often start singing in English and more american-like after a while to get bigger. We value American culture and music, they mock our accents (and languages sometimes) and best case scenario see us as funny and silly.

Then I started thinking. Do you think that americans kind of see rap kind of like foreign music still? Like low-brow unexotic foreign music.

I don't know this is a really fresh thought and I'm not sure if I am explaining it very well.

hey first off I just want to say -

you are entirely correct in your reaction that people outside of America/the English-speaking world do not need more American culture thrust upon them! this discussion is extremely centered on Americans, the reception and reaction to rap within America, and excuses that white American use to avoid interacting meaningfully with Black culture, art, and ideas. while anti-Blackness as an issue obviously extends far outside of America, this particular conversation is deeply tied to American culture. I appreciate you pointing that out!

I also think you're point about rap, and by extension other Black artforms, being Othered in American pop culture. certainly in terms of language, African American Vernacular English (AAVE), which is utilized by many rappers, is still heavily disputed in its validity as a "real" language, with many dismissing it as a bastardized version of "proper" English and associating it heavily with those who are lower-class and uneducated. in a similar way to many international artists having to work in English to gain wider recognition and validation, many Black Americans are proficient in "code switching," the practice of switching between AAVE that they likely grew up speaking and an English dialect that is considered more "professional."

similarly, I think your use of the term "low-brow" is very apt. Black music has always been met with distrust and disdain by white audiences. there's a reason that so many people feel the need to bring up sex, drugs, and violence when they talk about rap; to many white cultural gatekeepers that was all rap was. (and, like, we should very much talk about why that is in and of itself a bad thing, when white crime is so often glorified in pop culture. why is the Godfather a classic masterpiece but Black men making art about their own experiences with racism, violence, poverty, and survival don't deserve serious consideration?) and that didn't start with rap! in the early 20th century jazz, also a Black creation, was seen as dangerous for promoting promiscuity among nice white teens. no matter what Black people make, white cultural gatekeepers will find a way to start a moral panic about it.

the reverse also happens as well, with Black people being treated as foreigners even in music genres that they helped pioneer. Black Americans were hugely formative in the early days of country, but are met with hostility in the contemporary country scene. Lil Nas X's Old Town Road was one of the biggest songs of the year it was released and undeniably country but was largely snubbed by country music community, and Beyoncé's new country album, Cowboy Carter, is a direct response to her hostile reception at the Country Music Awards in 2016.

the point being, yes, I don't think it's off-base to say that, to many Americans, rap and Black music and art generally are like... very optional and avoidable parts of pop culture in the way that more white-dominated genres are not, similarly to a lot of international and especially non-English art.

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 11 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: Hi babes!!!! I’m so happy to be back, I missed writing and interacting with yall 😭 enjoy reading my loves <3

W/C: 3.447

part ten

Jude was everywhere.

Every-fucking-where.

At home, at work, sometimes even at the clubs or bars I visited..

Every corner I turned, every morning I woke up- he had to be standing or sitting closer to my vicinity than I would have ever wanted.

I rub my eyes roughly, trying to get some food into my system before we had to start packing for the Union Berlin game in Germany. The last to secure our spot in the last 16 of the Champions League.

"Can you pass the water?"

I look up, my grumpy state worsened after hearing the annoying pest's voice.

"No.." I reply, deciding to be petty, pushing the water bottle over anyway.

We don't speak for the rest of breakfast, tensions high after having to endure each other's presence for more than a week.

I had never missed my dad's presence this much before, and my patience was running so thin- if I snapped, I wouldn't even be surprised.

I get off my chair when the doorbell rings, getting up quickly to open the door, knowing it would be my package.

I smile at the delivery driver, signing his tablet quickly, before accepting the huge package.

I slam the door closed with my leg, not being able to see where I'm going while I carry the heavy machine inside.

"Let me help.." I hear Jude perk up. I hear the paddling of his house slippers come closer, a sudden warmth grazing against my fingers.

I almost drop the heavy package in surprise, hand slipping away from the cardboard box. Eyes wide when I realize Jude's holding the package with a stable grip and ease. His face hidden behind the box.

"On the counter?" He questions, already turning and walking towards the kitchen island before I can reply.

I hurry behind him, eyes shifting over his form. Muscles protruding due to the work he's putting into placing the box on the counter.

"Thank you.."

The words feel foreign falling from my lips, only because they are directed at someone I never thought I'd simply thank.

He only replies with a small grunt, motioning to the huge box with his head, his hands going up to roll his T-shirt sleeves up.

I avert my gaze from his arms, to the package, quickly grabbing a butter knife from the kitchen cabinet.

I slide the knife through the transparent tape, directing the knife away from myself.

Standing on my tiptoes, a small noise of irritation leaves my mouth when I pull the coffee machine out of its box.

"Really? A coffee machine?" I hear Jude say, his hand reaching over to pull out the folded invoice included in the package.

"A thousand euros?!" He exclaims, looking like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

I grumble, snatching the papers out of his hands.

"I didn't pay, don't you worry.."

I wouldn't be the brightest to buy such an expensive machine with my own money, my salary wasn't exactly that much to splurge like this.

"Oh, daddy's money- got it.." He smirks, folding his arms on his chest. The white T-shirt pressing closer to his torso.

"Last night you came home with those ugly ass sneakers worth five thousand euros- don't even try it.."

I scoff, trying to glaze over the fact that I indirectly called my house, his home.

I grab the instructions of the machine, carrying it over to plug in the socket.

"Do you even know how that thing works?"

"Obviously, I'm not someone who buys seven euro lattes every damn day.."

I fill the water reservoir, inspecting the compartments carefully, then turn the machine on.

"Oh, you're so much better than me for making coffee at home.." He mocks, making me turn around, hand resting on the base of the machine absentmindedly as it warms up.

"How difficult is it for you to- fuck.."

I whip my head around, fingers stinging as hot water pours from the coffee machine. I gasp loudly, pulling my wet hand away from it rapidly.

"What did you do?" I hear Jude exclaim, he snatches my wrist, pulling me towards the sink with haste. He pulls my hand towards the faucet, allowing water to soothe my burning hand.

"Are you ever careful?!" He hisses, gripping my wrist tightly. I look up from the streaming water, confused by how frustrated he looks.

"It's fine, it wasn't that hot.." I mumble, feeling his hold tighten. I begin wiggling my hand out of his, giving him a quizzical look.

"Let go, Jude.." I add, finally getting my hand free from his iron grip.

I hear him sigh as he runs a hand down his face. He stares at me for a moment, then I watch him disappear for a moment, into the bathroom.

I take a deep breath, inspecting any changes in the skin of my fingers. Not noticing anything, I pull my hand away from the faucet. The stinging not as bad as earlier. I turn the water off, ready to walk away and grab a kitchen towel to dry my hand.

"Come here." I hear Jude say, I look up immediately, seeing him sitting at the dining table with a first aid kit. One he'd probably found while snooping around in the bathroom.

I walk over without protest, sitting next to him awkwardly. I hold my hand out, watching him treat my hand.

"It's literally not even that bad-"

"Stop talking." He deadpans, making me raise my brows. He coats my burnt skin with soothing cream, making me wince a couple times.

"Thank you.."

Again, I said it again.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the heat creeping up to my cheeks, embarrassed by our proximity.

"We should get to packing. We have to leave in a couple hours.”

"Congratulations guys! You’ve all worked so hard.." I praise, hugging each individual player when they walk into the changing room. Patting them on the shoulder proudly.

"Rough game, wasn't it?" I ask Joselu, chuckling at his expression. The man had put his entire heart and soul into the game, giving us two goals- making his POTM title well-deserved.

"I'm so exhausted. You sure you want me for the interview?" He asks, pulling his jacket on.

I nod, motioning to Luis.

"We're ready, when you're ready.."

The interview doesn't take long, and before I knew it, we had all arrived back at our hotel. It had become a small tradition for some of the players and staff to chill in the hotel restaurant after matches, and this night was no exception.

Due to how close our team is, most of us didn't really get dressed up. We had some tea or coffee with small desserts or plates of cut-up fruit.

It was insanely cold in Berlin, obviously due to the season, and the rain wouldn't stop pouring from the sky. The heating was on in the restaurant, accompanied by the cosy fireplace right behind our table.

I check the time in the midst of listening to Federico's story about what he did during his last break. Seems like the rest of the table thinks it's hilarious, because they all burst out in laughter while I'm distracted by my phone.

My eyes water in exhaustion, and I clench my jaw in order to hold a yawn back, not trying to look annoyed or bored.

Waiting for the right timing, I get up, bidding farewell to the team, then I quickly walk into the elevator, pressing the button to my floor.

Arriving in my hotelroom, I jump onto the fluffy, soft bed, sighing in pleasure.

Though, my peace is short-lived when there is a harsh knock on my door.

I grumble, getting up annoyed- stupid enough to open the door without checking or verifying who it is.

It's no one else than Jude, a familiar-looking piece of jewelry in his palm.

"You dropped this earlier." He mutters, holding the gold bracelet out.

I hum, holding my hand out, so he can attach it back to my wrist.

I hear him scoff, smug look on his face as he looks at me, placing the bracelet on my wrist. I don't give him the satisfaction of having my attention- instead I scroll on my phone, refreshing the browser to see if my most recent test results will show up.

"No way!"

I scream, eyes going wide, as I realize I had passed all of my exams, even the one I cried about on the way home.

"What?" Jude asks, confused by the excitement in my eyes and form.

"I passed!" I shove the phone into his face, not even letting him see for a split-second until I pull my phone away and place it on the vanity.

"I passed, Jude!" I squeal again, unconsciously grabbing onto the puzzled guy’s hands. I squeeze his hand, soft skin caressing mine, while I beam with joy. Widest smile on my face as I jump up and down.

"You passed? Even though you were crying at the kitchen table all night long?"

I freeze, stopping myself from jumping again, looking up at him, surprised.

"You saw that?"

"You were making it a little too obvious.."

I scoff, looking down at our intertwined hands, immediately pulling my hand back in embarrassment. Confused about why I let my vulnerability slip so easily.

"Okay, well, you can leave if there is nothing else.." I mutter, unable to ignore the huge, smug smile on his face.

"Goodnight, y/n.." He speaks, stepping back, and I wish I could wipe that smirk off his face.

Maybe even a punch…

"Goodnight, or whatever.." I blurt, slamming the door closed in his face.

"No- don't come in.." y/n slurs, collecting her bag from the dashboard. Vision blurred and disoriented as she fidgets with the car door.

"Are you sure? You're absolutely hammered.." Luis asks, leaning over to open the door for the frazzled girl.

"Yup! All good." She replies, heels killing her feet when she steps out of the car.

"Bye!" She adds, slamming the door a little too hard, earning a yell from her best friend, before she stumbles to the front door of her house.

Nights like these are why she's happy there is a keypad on the door as well, fishing for her keys in this state would be a disaster.

She punches the numbers in quickly, hearing Luis's car drive away when she opens the door and stumbles inside.

It's not as dark inside as she'd imagined, instead, the living room lights are on. The TV blaring with a show she's unfamiliar with.

Throwing her heels off, she makes a beeline towards the couch, slumping against the soft cushions.

"y/n?" She hears a voice say, not bothering to open her eyes, she hums in response.

"You okay?" The Brum accent asks, and instantly a warm hand makes contact with her forehead.

"You're drunk." He says, stating it as a fact, rather than a question.

"I'm not drunk, let me sleep." She replies, shifting on the couch.

"You need to get cleaned up. You reek of alcohol." He urges, hand going to pull her arm up. 

"No!" She replies, gasping when she's lifted up from the couch. Opening her eyes, she clutches onto his shirt, confused by where he's bringing her.

"What are you doing?"

"You wanted to sleep, no?" He mutters cockily, slowly walking up the stairs, strong arms wrapped around her back and thighs.

She makes a small noise in exhaustion, unconsciously placing her head on his broad shoulder. Undeniably, her makeup smudges against the gray fabric of his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much, not even realizing the small grin on his own face as he places her in her bed.

He switches her bedside lamp on, happy he's not missed the bed when placing her on it in the dark.

Stepping back, he pulls the covers over her body, looking around for some specific thing. He steps closer to her vanity, looking for something similar to what his mother used to remove her own makeup.

Jude makes a small noise of satisfaction when he sees a pack of wipes, the English text on it enough to confirm it's the item he's looking for.

He turns around with the pack of wipes, stepping closer to the sleeping girl. He carefully sits on the empty side of her bed, careful not to touch her unnecessarily, grabbing a wipe, and clumsily rubbing the white towel along her face.

His face inches closer to her sleeping one, trying to remove the makeup enough so it won't stain her white pillows. He watches her eyelids and face twitch, causing a soft, fuzzy feeling to creep up into his chest.

His breath hitches when he realizes their proximity. He pulls the makeup-stained wipe away from her face, grabbing a clean one and caressing it on her soft cheek.

When her face is wiped clean, he pulls back, chest thumping with an unwelcome feeling. A soft sigh leaves his plump lips, he runs a hand down his face. Grabbing the edge of her warm blanket, placing it on her, causing her to shift a little in her slumber.

A familiar feeling of déjà vu passes through his senses, a soft grunt coming from the sleeping girl next to him. 

He pauses his movements, eyes roaming on her sleeping face, before he gets up from her bed. Leaving the lamp on as he hurriedly walks out of her room. Accidentally taking the pack of wipes with him, and forgetting to close her door in his sudden hurry.

December in Madrid was something Jude was slowly getting used to. Although nothing could compare to the weather in Birmingham and Dortmund he'd gotten familiar with over the years. 

It’s only hours later, past three in the morning, when he's awoken by pain in his shoulder. It had been bothering him for weeks now, but he was insisting on playing.

Even if it meant that he had to wear a personalized shoulder brace and had to take injections to combat the pain during important games. 

His move to Madrid was no doubt a big one, with the entirety of the football world looking at how the 100 million-euro transfer would start his first season at Real Madrid.

To Jude, even a dislocated shoulder could not hold him back from delivering his best performance. 

Sitting up from the bed he had been calling his own, for the past few weeks, he looks around the dark room. Rain trickling out of the dark clouds and harshly hitting the huge windows of his room. 

Jude gets up from the comfort of the warm bed, pulling his shirt off to check his shoulder. He had been wearing his brace regularly, but sometimes it would be so uncomfortable that he had to take it off in the middle of the night. 

He unbuckles the belt that’s secure on his chest, expensive material soft to the touch as he slides the black brace off carefully. A soft grunt of pain leaves his mouth as he throws it to the other side of the bed. 

Pulling his slippers on and opening the door of his room, he can only see light emitting from y/n's room. Her bedroom door open since he had forgotten to close it earlier. 

He averts his gaze from her room, ready to go downstairs to grab a cup of water. Though, he stops dead in his tracks when he hears noise coming from her room. A soft whimper, accompanied by the rustle of her movements. 

Not another thought runs through his head before he makes a beeline into her room. He walks past her door, her body visibly restless underneath her blanket. He stands next to her bed awkwardly, moving his face closer to inspect the scrunch of her brows, displaying the distress on her face. 

"y/n.." He begins, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He lifts his hand, moving his hand to her cheek, touching it tenderly with his thumb. Trying to rouse her from her sleep. Though, seems like it doesn’t work, especially since her face twitches again. 

"Hey! Wake up.." Jude whisper-shouts, not even realizing or asking himself what he is trying to accomplish. 

"Fucking hell. What am I even trying to do." He curses to himself, moving his hand to her shoulder again. She’s still dressed in her clubbing outfit from last night, causing his hand to make immediate contact with her bare shoulder. 

"Mom.." A sudden whisper leaves her lips, full of raw emotion and sadness. A ragged breath follows, the tremble of her lip visible in the dim light next to them. 

Jude immediately halts all of his movements, his breath hitches in surprise. He had never heard her or others around her utter a single word about her mother. It was always about her father or one of her aunts. 

Jude was never curious about it for some reason. He had many friends whose parents weren’t together or single. Her only having her father in her life, or to the extent he’d seen- wasn’t all that surprising until this very moment. 

"Don't go..." Another whimper, followed by an audible, strangled sob, tears glistening in the corners of her closed eyes. 

He had never felt this confused and helpless before. Feeling his chest tighten, he leans over her body, moving to sit next to her on the bed. With one last shake of her shoulders, he tries to wake her up from her horror-filled dream. 

"y/n!" He shouts this time, voice echoing along with the rainfall outside, his brows furrowed in worry. 

y/n's eyes snap open in shock, mouth falling open, only for her lips to tremble.

Tears fill her eyes, the only thing visible to her: Jude's concerned face. 

Picking up on her sudden shock, his arms snake around her back, allowing her to sit up and breathe. 

"You’re fine, it was just a dream.." He says softly, eyes focused on her face. Instead of his words soothing her, tears start falling down her cheeks, breath unsteady as sobs fall from her lips. 

His eyes widen, her state blind-siding him.

Yes, he had seen her cry once or twice before, but this- this was different. The girl's face was absolutely clad in pain and sadness.

It made his heart and soul shatter, blood running cold at the sight. 

"Hey.. Look at me.." He mutters, hand reaching up to her chin. His fingers graze her skin, gently but firmly lifting her head to make eye contact with her wet eyes. 

She faces him, cheeks and lashes wet from tears. Eyes bloodshot, as her lips tremble uncontrollably. Jude's eyes soften, brows scrunching in more concern. 

"y/n-" He tries to call out to her to further ground her, though a soft gasp leaves his mouth when she practically launches herself into his hold.

Her trembling body pressed against his naked chest, shaky arms wrapped around his back. 

Her forehead collides with his collarbone, to his luck, not against his injured shoulder. His arms fall against his side in bewilderment, mouth falling open for a moment. Only her soft sobs audible next to the raging storm outside. 

Her nails claw against his bare back, not realizing the slight pain she’s causing him through her sheer desperation of wanting to feel safe and grounded. 

Jude can feel his skin burning up. Of course, he had his fair share of subtle or intimate touches with other women. A hug, a kiss- whatever it had been- his body had never gone this rigid before.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by her nonstop sobbing. Getting his courage and shit together, and pushing his shock away- he lifts his hand from his side, sliding his arms around her back, pulling her body flush against his. 

"You're okay. You’re safe..." He mumbles, fingers rubbing her nape soothingly, other hand pressing her face closer against his chest. 

"I'm here, y/n.." The unfamiliar sentence leaves his mouth with a shaky breath, her sobbing continuing all through his sweet words. 

He's absolutely certain, that if she were fully conscious and not crying her heart out- she'd be able to hear the stupid thundering of his heart, maybe it would be even louder than the storm outside. 

He also knows that this feeling has been brewing in his chest like a damn F5 tornado for the past few weeks.

Causing incredible damage to his heartstrings and confusion to his feelings and thoughts...