#then laugh and brush it off and go back to not singing again

[rezwrites]

Hey, can you write something for Agatha Harkness? I love her. Yandere/Dark! Agatha Harkness x reader, reader is summoned to be part of Agatha's coven and Agatha grows obsessed with reader after becoming her friend and feeling a connection. Thank you 🩷

Of course, also I’m very sorry that this took so long!

a/n: slight au where the road is real/Rio has no presence.

Agatha and Teen had approached you asking for your assistance in walking The Road. Laughing in their face at the absurdity, “The Road is a myth.”

Even if it wasn’t, it was a death trap. Many stories from your mother and her coven about The Road have passed your ears. Every witch, with the exemption of Agatha Harkness, lost their lives trying the reach the end. You’ve felt inadequate as a witch, unable to resonate with a coven of your own. Even though you’d love to have that sister and companionships you’ve done well enough without them.

Teen droned on as you walked away from them. Only stopping in your tracks when Agatha chimed in talking about forming her own coven. A lesson drilled into your brain since the day you were born resounded within: Agatha Harkness is not to be trusted. Turning around you regarded them both, warily. Awkwardly handing you a card Teen expressed that he’d hope to see you there.

Contemplation weighed heavy on your mind the rest of the day. The possibility of finding a coven was tantalizingly, but you’d have to suffer through the proximity of Agatha and the other witches she convened. Deciding the end outweighs everything else you make your way to Agatha’s house in Westview.

Agatha kept a close focus on you the moment you made your presence known in her home. Her eye constantly shifting to you as you sung your part of The Ballad. You’re voice is beautiful she thought, like a bird singing its morning song.

After pairing with Agatha in the first trial you notice Agatha gradually getting close to you. Thankful that you had her as an anchor in your hallucination, you doing that same for her. Taking the opportunities to know more about you, realizing she’s slow to open up about herself. Rightfully so, since much of the air is still tense with distrust around her. She seemed genuine when she asked about you, making small gestures to be sure your safe- keeping you close to her, guiding your steps so you don’t trip. Her hands softly brushing over you from time to time.

After losing Alice, your distrust cemented again. Insisting that she couldn’t control it, you strayed away from her. Agatha lets you go, not without keeping close eye on you. Watching you gravitate towards Lilia, Agatha internally seethes.

Lilia’s words of wisdom and talks about her travels brought you solace. It was a devastating experience to see Lilia close the Iron Maiden, locking herself in the trial room. Screaming her name, pounding on the door the tears rushed down your face. Agatha had to drag you away and calm you down, Teen staying behind to comfort Jen.

“Lilia, no. How could she?” You could help but sob at the loss of her. Falling to your knees, your face in your hands.

“There’s nothing we could’ve done.” Agatha rests her hand in your shoulder, lightly squeezing it. Wiping your tears, you stood up brushing yourself off.

“Stay with me. I want- no need you by my side.” Agatha’s voice firmed, “You need someone to take care of you.”

“No I don’t. You think I’m weak don’t you?” Your face twists in irritation.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Her fists clenching and unclenching.

“Then what exactly are you saying, Agatha?” You exasperated, throwing your hands up.

“In certain situations I can protect you. That’s all I want to do, darling.” She reached out to you, retracting her hands when you stepped away.

“I can protect myself. We’re almost at the end.” You walk back to gather Jen and teen, leaving Agatha alone.

Slipping into your shoes everything goes black until slit of light appears, revealing Agatha pulling you out of a body bag, “It’s alright dear. It’s just the last trial.” Observing Jen unbind herself and Teen find a body for his brother, your hope shrunk as they disappeared from the trial room.

You remained silent as Agatha grieved, planting something in the ground. You rested beside her as she cried, rubbing circles on her back. Humming a small tune you watched the lights go out by the second; attempting to make peace that this might be the end.

Agatha’s gasp caused you to look down where you saw a dandelion growing from the soil. As the ceiling started crashing down Agatha pulled you up from the floor, guiding you to the door. Coming out of the trial room you both find yourselves in Agatha’s backyard, Teen and Jen waiting for you both. Teen offered Agatha some of his power only is she doesn’t take it.

Watching Jen and Teen leave, you stared in thought. The Road was a waste. You didn’t find your coven, the one that Agatha conjured up dropped like flies. Back to square one with a heavy heart in your chest. A soft grip on your wrist pulled you out your bleak thoughts, but you didn’t face her.

“You think The Road didn’t give you what you needed, but it did. You’re just too stubborn to see it. The companionship you crave so much, you don’t a coven… you just need me.” Agatha’s pupils turned purple as your mind grew hazy, struggling for clarity.

“Shh…don’t fight it, darling. I’ve got you.” Agatha’s honeyed voice rang through vividly. Holding you tight against her chest, Agatha pressed her fingers closer to your temple, “I failed to protect someone once, I won’t let the same happen to you.”

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/ BTR Book 2: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 5: ten minutes..

Flashback January 14th, 2025 4:51 PM

Jey paced in front of the bedroom door, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time. It was almost 5 o’clock, and Rhea still hadn’t let him in since they’d gotten home from therapy. Every time he knocked or tried to talk her through the door, she stayed silent, her hurt and anger radiating from the other side like an unbreakable wall.

Finally, Jey had had enough. “Fine,” he muttered to himself, “if she wants to act like a kid, I’ll act like one too.”

An idea sparked, and he made his way down the hallway to his son Jeyce’s room. He dug through the toys until he found exactly what he was looking for: a mini karaoke machine. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he picked it up and made his way back to the bedroom, setting up camp right in front of the closed door.

Turning on the karaoke machine, Jey cleared his throat and scrolled through his phone for a song with a karaoke instrumental track. He pressed play, bringing the microphone up to his mouth, and started singing in a horribly off-key voice that could probably be heard throughout the house.

“Rheaaaa… your body is like a Pangeaaaa… I can’t get you out of… whatever rhymes with Rheaaa…”

Inside the room, Rhea pressed a pillow over her head, trying to block out the sound of Jey’s absurd singing. “He’s really doing this,” she mumbled to herself, her frustration mingling with a hint of reluctant amusement.

Outside, Jey continued, his voice getting louder and more dramatic. “RHEAAA… why can’t we talk like adults… why do we have to close doooors?”

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes through the door, but he kept going, determined to break through her silence, even if it was with his ridiculous off-key serenade.

“RHEAAAAAA, I won’t stop singing until you open the doorrr…ahhh…”

Rhea rolled her eyes, pressing the pillow down harder over her ears. “I swear if he doesn’t stop singing…” she muttered, still clinging to her frustration. But despite herself, she could feel the corners of her mouth tugging upward in a reluctant smile. Jey was impossible, and somehow, that made him even harder to stay mad at.

Jey continued his off-key serenade, now moving into a full performance mode. “RHEAAA… HOW COME WE CAN’T JUST RIPTIDE THIS IDEAAAA…”

Inside the room, Rhea glanced at the door, her brow furrowing. She couldn’t believe he was still at it.

“RHEA… YOU’RE ACTING LIKE A CHIAAAA PET-AH,” he sang, drawing out the “-ah” in a way that made no sense whatsoever. “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY BUT IT SOUNDED BETTER IN MY HEAD-AH…”

Rhea rolled her eyes again. He was clearly just throwing in words that vaguely rhymed with her name, and she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or to stay mad. She clutched her pillow tighter, trying to block out the sound, but he was relentless.

“And now-ah… GUITAR SOLO!” Jey shouted through the microphone, launching into a dramatic “guitar” riff, complete with exaggerated mouth noises. “Bow-bow, BOWWWW, chika-chika-BOW-BOWWWW…”

Rhea couldn’t hold it in anymore. She let out a laugh, muffling it with her pillow as she shook her head. It was impossible to stay angry when he was out there making a complete fool of himself just to get her to crack a smile.

“RHEAAA, I KNOW YOU HEARD THAT SICK RIFF,” he called out, tapping on the door with a playful beat. “OPEN UP, BABE! I’LL GIVE YOU ANOTHER SOLOOO!”

Rhea bit her lip, trying to compose herself. She stood up and took a few slow steps toward the door, rolling her eyes again but unable to hide her grin.

Finally, she called out, “If I open this door, will you stop with your ‘concert’?”

Jey’s voice immediately perked up. “Only if you promise to let me finish my encore, babe!”

Rhea sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. But a small, reluctant smile crept across her face.

Jey grinned as he got up, brushing himself off before stepping inside as Rhea opened the door. Before she could say a word, he pulled her into a gentle kiss, letting his lips linger for a moment, as if trying to dissolve any lingering tension between them.

“Look,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity, “I get it… it’s a tough thing to talk about. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Whenever you’re ready to share, I’ll be here to listen.”

Rhea nodded, a small, vulnerable smile breaking through her tough exterior. His words seemed to ease the weight she’d been carrying, even if only a little. He leaned in, kissing her forehead this time, his thumb gently tracing the back of her hand.

Then, with a sudden change of tone, Jey smirked. “How about we ditch the heavy stuff for a while? I’m thinking we order some Chinese food, get enough fried rice to feed an army, and find the crappiest old movies we can. The worse the plot, the better.”

Rhea let out a genuine laugh, the kind she hadn’t felt in days. “Crappy old movies and Chinese? You really know how to spoil a girl.”

Jey chuckled, pulling her closer as he led her down the hallway toward the living room. “Only the finest for you, babe.” He winked, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close as they walked together.

As they settled on the couch, Jey pulled up DoorDash on his phone, listing out every ridiculous item he could find. “Egg rolls, dumplings, beef and broccoli…oh, and don’t forget the wontons.”

Rhea nodded, making her own suggestions as they put together their absurdly large order. And when the food finally arrived, they sprawled out on the couch, plates in hand, as Jey flipped through channels to find the perfect terrible movie.

Settling on an 80s action flick with absurd stunts and cheesy dialogue, Jey wrapped an arm around Rhea, pulling her close. “Nothing like some bad TV and good food, right?”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her fingers laced with his. “Perfect night.”

— Later that night..

After the horrible movie marathon, Jey was determined to lift Rhea’s spirits and keep the night fun. “You see that? That’s your fiancé putting in work… look at that… you ain’t never had a man like me in your life, baby…” His playful teasing broke through the heaviness of the day, and Rhea erupted in laughter as he showcased his dance moves to the song “Candy” by Cameo.

“You don’t know what you are signing up for, babe… look at that… that’s Samoan genes, girl.” His antics were so ridiculous, so carefree, that Rhea found herself laughing harder than she had in weeks. In this moment, everything else faded away—the darkness that sometimes clouded her mind, the shadows of her past.

Once the song ended, Jey, high on Rhea’s laughter, jumped onto the bed beside her. He leaned in, kissing her softly, then pulled back, his eyes serious yet tender. “I just want you to know that you can talk to me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “This is our safe space together, Rhea. No one could ever come between us.”

His words struck a chord deep within her. Rhea felt the weight of his promise, the sincerity behind his eyes. He kissed her again, more passionately this time, and she melted into him, feeling the warmth of his affection wash over her. It was a beautiful difference compared to the pain of her past—a gentle reminder that love could be safe, that she could trust him completely.

As the next song played softly on the stereo, “I Like It” by DeBarge, Jey stood up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Come here,” he said, extending his hand.

Rhea took his hand, feeling the strength and security in his grip. He gently pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her waist, guiding her into a slow sway to the sounds of the ‘70s. The music wrapped around them like a warm blanket, and Jey began to sing softly to her, his voice smooth and soothing.

“I like it,” he crooned, his eyes locked onto hers, “You send chills up my spine every time I take one look at you…”

In that moment, Rhea rested her head against his shoulder, feeling a wave of comfort wash over her. The worries of the world outside faded, replaced by the warmth of their connection. Here, in his arms, she felt safe. Jey would never hurt her; he was nothing like the ghosts of her past.

As he continued to sing, his voice filling the air with love and reassurance, Rhea realized how far she had come. “See?” Jey teased, swaying a little more. “Ain’t nobody can dance like me. You’re just lucky to be with a star like this.” He twirled her around gently, and laughter spilled from both of them, the joy so pure it felt almost healing.

As they danced, Rhea couldn’t shake the feeling that this was exactly what she needed—a moment of laughter, love, and the undeniable truth that together, they could weather anything. In Jey, she had found her safe haven, a place where the past couldn’t touch her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt free.

When she asked him to sit down, he didn’t hesitate. He turned off the stereo, and they both settled onto the edge of the bed, an air of heaviness settling between them as the music faded away.

“Did you know… about Matt?” she asked quietly, her voice beaming through with hurt. The question lingered in the air, and Jey felt his heart twist at the pain he saw in her eyes.

He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice soft. “Cody and I… we overheard him outside Cody’s bus back at Survivor Series 2023. He was insisting you wear those chaps for the segment… kept going on and on about it.” Jey shook his head, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes at the memory. “I didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way he talked to you… or treated you. That’s why I told you at WrestleMania that you deserved better. I wasn’t just saying it, Rhea… I meant every word.”

Rhea stayed quiet, processing his words, her mind going back to all the times her friends had tried to warn her. “Damian and Finn… they were always trying to talk to me about it,” she murmured, a faint sadness in her voice. “I thought they were crazy for a bit. I guess I didn’t want to believe it.”

Jey’s hand found hers, giving it a gentle squeeze, silently reassuring her. “I wanted to approach you.. but it was not my place to speak of it to you. We did some promos together Rhea but we never really talked after those said promos’…”

She looked down at their hands, the weight of her own guilt pressing down on her shoulders. “If you’d come to me… I probably would’ve listened,” she admitted, her voice trembling with the vulnerability she rarely let show.

Jey’s thumb brushed over her knuckles as he looked at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache. “Rhea,” he whispered, his voice steady, “I would never manipulate you or pull stupid stuff just to control you. I’m not him. I’d never hurt you, not like that.”

Rhea took a shaky breath, feeling the relief of his words wash over her. But there was still something gnawing at her, a memory she couldn’t let go. “Do you remember… when you pushed me?” she asked, her gaze falling away from his, her voice barely above a whisper.

The question hung between them, and Jey froze, immediately understanding what she meant. The memory in Portland, back in September, flashed in his mind—a night filled with tension, frustration, and a moment he wished he could take back. He could still see the look on her face, the hurt in her eyes, and it haunted him more than he’d ever let on.

“Yeah,” he murmured, the regret evident in his voice. “I remember.”

Rhea’s hand tightened around his, grounding herself as she finally let herself speak the words she’d been holding in. “I think… that moment scared me because, for a split second, I thought you might be like him.” Her voice cracked, and she looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “But now I know you’re not him, Jey.”

Jey swallowed hard, his own eyes misting over as he held her gaze. “Rhea, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d give anything to take that moment back. I… I was so angry, I just… I lost control for a second, and I hate myself for it. You have no idea how much I hate myself for that.”

She reached up, her hand gently cupping his cheek, grounding him in her touch. “I know, Jey,” she said softly, her voice laced with understanding. “And that’s why I trust you… that’s why I’m here.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, letting her words wash over him like a balm to his guilt-ridden heart. For a long moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared pain and healing filling the room. When he opened his eyes again, he saw nothing but love and forgiveness in her gaze, and he felt something within him begin to heal.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For giving me a chance… for letting me in.”

She smiled faintly, her thumb brushing over his cheek as she leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips—a kiss filled with all the promises and trust they had built together.

“Just… promise me one thing,” she murmured as they pulled away, her forehead resting against his.

“Anything,” he replied, his voice unwavering.

“Treat me right..”

And in that quiet, intimate moment, they both knew that, no matter what the future held, they’d face it side by side—healing, learning, and loving, one day at a time.

Jey pulled back from their embrace, a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, now that we got all the mushiness out of the way…” he teased, reaching over to turn the stereo back on. The soft, rhythmic beats of Ne-Yo’s “Sexy Love” filled the room, setting a sultry atmosphere. With a smirk, he leaned in to kiss her, his hands warm and steady on her waist.

Rhea couldn’t help but melt into him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. In one swift motion, Jey lifted her onto his lap, pulling her close as they swayed gently to the music. The lyrics wrapped around them, the chorus echoing in her ears, “Sexy love, girl, the things you do… keep me sprung, keep me running back to you.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, savoring the texture and warmth, the familiar scent of him filling her senses—a comforting blend of his natural musk and something uniquely him. She paused, pulling back slightly to look at him, her gaze softening as she took in the man in front of her, the man who had given her strength to trust and love again.

Jey looked up at her, his dark eyes full of affection and something deeper, something that made her heart pound. His hands traced soothing patterns on her back, grounding her, reminding her that she was safe here, with him.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice sultry, “you got me wrapped around your finger, right?”

Rhea let out a small laugh, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “Good,” she replied softly, her lips brushing against his, “someone’s got to keep you in line.”

Jey chuckled, his smile widening as he tightened his hold on her. They sat there, wrapped up in each other, with only the soft music and the sound of their steady breaths filling the space between them.

As the song continued to play, Jey’s gaze grew more intense, his voice lowering to a tender murmur. “You’re my everything, you know that?”

Rhea’s heart clenched, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest. She leaned down, her forehead touching his, her voice quiet but full of conviction. “And you’re mine, Joshua. I don’t know how I got so lucky… but I’m not letting go.”

Jey smiled, a gentle, genuine smile that made her feel like she was the only person in the world. “Good,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “’cause I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

Their lips met again, a soft, unhurried kiss, filled with all the words they couldn’t say out loud. The song continued to play in the background, the lyrics wrapping around them, reminding her that this was real, that this love they shared was something worth fighting for.

As they held each other, Rhea felt a profound sense of peace wash over her—a feeling of safety and belonging that she hadn’t felt in years. In Jey’s arms, she had finally found her home, a place where she could be vulnerable, where she was loved and cherished for exactly who she was.

—

January 15th, 2025, 9:13 AM

The silence in the home gym was punctuated only by Jey’s labored breaths and the clink of weights as he struggled through another shoulder workout. Every lift was a reminder of the shooting, a painful echo he couldn’t seem to escape. Each rep brought back flashes of that night, of blood and panic, of Rhea’s tear-streaked face as she held him, her desperate voice pleading for him to hold on. He clenched his teeth, forcing the dumbbell up, but the ache in his shoulder forced him to set it down with a frustrated grunt.

The door opened, and Jon walked in, already geared up for his own workout. He took one look at his brother, noticing the exhaustion etched into Jey’s face, the strain that wasn’t just physical. Jon stepped onto the treadmill, starting a steady jog, his eyes occasionally glancing at Jey with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jon asked gently, breaking the silence.

Jey hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. The weight of everything he’d been holding in was heavy, almost suffocating. He climbed onto the bike next to Jon, setting the resistance as he pedaled slowly, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Man…” Jey began, his voice low and hesitant. “She’s having nightmares every night, Uce. Every damn night. She keeps saying my name, keeps begging him not to shoot me.” He swallowed hard, the memory of Rhea’s restless sleep gnawing at him. “She keeps saying, ‘Don’t shoot him, shoot me instead.’”

Jon’s face softened, understanding the depth of what his brother was carrying. “Have you asked her about it?”

Jey shook his head, running a hand over his face. “Nah, man… I don’t know if I should. I don’t want to make it worse for her. I told her I’d take her pain if I could, that I’d carry it for her… but, fuck, Uce. I’m stressed. I don’t know if I’m strong enough for both of us.”

Jon’s gaze turned serious, and he slowed the treadmill, eventually stepping off to sit on a nearby bench. He motioned for Jey to join him, and Jey followed, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to steady his breathing.

“Jey,” Jon started, his voice firm but filled with empathy, “you’ve been carrying a lot, man. More than anyone should have to. But have you really… and I mean really, thought about everything you’ve been through?”

Jey’s brow furrowed, his gaze dropping to the floor as he considered his brother’s words. “What do you mean?”

“Look,” Jon said, taking a deep breath, “you and Rhea lost the baby back in September. Have you two ever really talked about that? Have you told her how you felt, seeing her in the hospital after… after her attempt?” He paused, letting his words sink in. “And has she told you how she felt, seeing you in that hospital bed after you got shot?”

He’d shoved those memories down, telling himself he was strong enough to handle it. But had he really processed any of it?

“Everyone’s life has changed, Uce. The last three months… they’ve changed all of us,” Jon said, his voice heavy with the weight of his own realizations. “I mean, think about it. One minute, I’m calling Rhea a whore for… breaking up your family. The next minute, I’m donating blood to save her life.”

Jey’s eyes met his brother’s, and he could see the turmoil in Jon’s expression—the lingering guilt, the confusion, the acceptance that came only after everything had already fallen apart.

Jon continued, his voice softening. “I’m not trying to make this about me, but do you know how hard it was for Trinity, right? To go from talking to Takecia every day to… now talking to Rhea every day. It’s like everything shifted overnight, and we didn’t have a choice but to adapt.”

Jey hadn’t thought about it that way. He’d been so wrapped up in his own pain, his own guilt, that he hadn’t fully considered how much everyone else had been forced to change as well.

“We don’t regret Rhea, bro. We love her. But everything happened so fast,” Jon admitted, his voice filled with a quiet sadness. “I don’t think any of us really had time to process what it all meant, what it did to us. And maybe… maybe that’s why you’re feeling so overwhelmed.”

Jey’s shoulders slumped, the weight of Jon’s words settling over him. He hadn’t allowed himself to truly think about these traumatic events, especially the one where how close he’d come to death himself. It was like he’d been running on autopilot, surviving each day, without ever truly facing the enormity of what they’d been through.

“You’re right,” Jey whispered, his voice breaking. “I just… I didn’t want to think about it. Any of it. I thought if I just… kept moving, kept pushing through, it would go away.”

Jon placed a comforting hand on Jey’s shoulder. “You’re not alone, man. We’re all here, dealing with it too. And maybe it’s time we stop pretending like we can just ignore it. Maybe it’s time we start facing it. Together.”

Jey nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek as he finally allowed himself to feel the weight of everything they’d lost—and everything they’d somehow managed to hold onto.

For the first time in three months, he felt a sense of some type of clarity. It wasn’t about being strong enough to carry Rhea’s pain. It was about sharing it, allowing each other to heal. And maybe, just maybe, that was the kind of strength they both needed.

“Thanks, Uce,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Jon pulled him into a brief, tight hug. “Anytime, bro. We’re family—that’s what we do.”

As they pulled apart, a sense of determination settled in Jey’s heart. He knew what he had to do now. For himself, for Rhea, and for the future they were building together—one step at a time, one healing moment after another.

—

11:58 AM

Jey wandered through the aisles of the baby section, scanning each shelf with intent. He wanted something perfect, something that would mean more than just an ordinary gift. His gaze finally landed on a sleek, grey and black car seat, and a smile tugged at his lips. It was practical, yet it held the promise of the future they were building. He reached for the box, hefting it into his cart with a sense of purpose. Nearby, he spotted a display of soft, colorful baby toys, and he grabbed a few of those as well, picturing Rhea’s face when she saw them.

After gathering everything, he made his way to the flower department, his eyes instantly drawn to a bouquet of lilies. The soft white petals reminded him of Rhea—strong, resilient, yet carrying a quiet beauty that most people didn’t get to see. He picked out the bouquet and headed to the cashier, his mind already racing with the words he wanted to say to her.

Once he loaded everything into his Mercedes, Jey drove home, the anticipation building with every mile. This wasn’t just a gift. This was his way of starting a conversation they’d both avoided for too long. It was time to stop running, to face everything they’d been through together.

Pulling into the driveway, Jey took a deep breath before grabbing the bouquet and stepping inside. He found Rhea curled up on the couch, her eyes on the TV but her mind seemingly elsewhere. She looked up when he walked in, her face lighting up with a smile as she took in the flowers in his hand.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, sitting up and taking the bouquet from him. She breathed in their scent, her smile soft and curious as she looked back up at him.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, letting it linger before pulling back. “I just… I wanted to talk to you, babe. About some things we’ve both been holding onto.”

Rhea’s expression shifted, a hint of hesitation in her eyes as she began to speak, but Jey gently placed a finger to her lips, silencing her with a soft shake of his head. “No, Rhea. Let me say this first.”

She nodded, settling back into the couch, her gaze never leaving his as he sat down beside her.

“I know you’ve been having nightmares,” he said softly, his voice filled with understanding rather than accusation. “I hear you every night… saying my name, telling them to shoot you instead.” He took a deep breath, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Rhea’s eyes filled with tears, her lips parting as if to respond, but Jey continued, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek.

“When we go back to therapy, Rhea, we have to lay it all out. No more hiding. We’ve both got things buried deep, things we’re too scared to talk about, thinking maybe they can’t hurt us if we just keep them locked away.” He swallowed, his gaze searching hers. “But that pain… it’s still there, isn’t it? It doesn’t just disappear.”

Rhea nodded, her voice a soft, broken whisper. “I’ve tried so hard to be strong, Jey… to push it all down and pretend I’m okay. But… you’re right. It hasn’t gone away.”

He reached up, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down her cheek. “We’ll do this together, Rhea. All of it. But… there’s one thing I need you to talk to me about now.” He took a steadying breath, his eyes never wavering from hers. “Tell me about Demetri.”

Rhea’s breath caught, her body tensing as his words hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding. The name alone seemed to open a door she’d kept locked for so long, and for the first time, Jey could see the fear, the pain, and the memories she’d buried so deep they had become part of her.

The room grew silent as Jey waited, his hand still on her cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of patience and understanding. And as Rhea looked back at him, she knew that this was the moment—one that could change everything.

And so, she took a deep breath, ready to finally confront the darkness she’d kept hidden for so long.

—

January 27th, 2025, 7:45 AM

Jey’s Mercedes rolled up to the Mead School, the morning light casting a soft glow over the campus. Inside the car, Jeyce sat quietly, gripping his customized Judgment Day lunchbox tightly as he stared at the looming building. He was dressed in a vintage black Usos shirt, blue jeans, and black Vans, his expression a mix of nerves and determination.

Jey glanced at him in the rearview mirror and offered an encouraging smile. “You got this, little man.”

Rhea reached over, giving Jeyce’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be here to pick you up right at four, okay?”

Jeyce nodded, his eyes betraying his anxiety despite his attempts to stay calm. “Okay.”

The trio made their way to the school’s main office, where Jey and Rhea filled out the final paperwork. The registrar handed Jeyce his schedule and a map of the school, pointing out that his first class was on the second floor. He glanced at his schedule—English, Math, History, Science, Art, and finally Gym. Six periods in a new place, surrounded by people he’d never met. His stomach twisted with nerves.

Rhea leaned down, brushing a kiss on his cheek. “You’re going to do great, Jeyce. Just remember, take it one class at a time.”

Jey added, “It’s okay to be scared, buddy. Starting somewhere new is tough, but before you know it, you’ll find your way—and you’ll make friends.” He ruffled Jeyce’s hair with a grin. “Who wouldn’t want to be friends with Main Event Jey Uso’s kid?”

Jeyce managed a small smile, his confidence bolstered by their words. He took a deep breath, nodding as he tucked the map and schedule into his backpack. With a wave to Jey and Rhea, he headed down the hallway towards his first class, trying to push the fear aside.

By the time he reached the second floor, the bell had already rung. He spotted his English classroom and sprinted toward it, arriving just in time to open the door. An older man at the front of the room looked up, his eyes kind behind his glasses.

“You must be Jeyce Fatu,” the teacher said, a warm smile on his face.

Jeyce nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m Mr. Wilkins, your English literature teacher for the rest of the year.” Mr. Wilkins extended his hand, and Jeyce shook it, feeling slightly more at ease. “Go ahead and take a seat in the back, Jeyce.”

Jeyce nodded and made his way to the back row, settling into his seat as he scanned the room. The other kids were busy chatting or on their phones, barely giving him a glance—until one kid looked over, eyeing Jeyce’s The Usos shirt with a sneer.

“Wrestling is for babies,” the kid muttered, just loud enough for Jeyce to hear.

Jeyce felt a spark of anger flare up, but he tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the map he’d been given. Yet, the boy didn’t stop.

“My dad isn’t a baby,” Jeyce said quietly, his voice steady despite the heat in his chest. “He’s the best wrestler in the world. And so is my bonus mom.”

The kid snorted, rolling his eyes. “Your dad isn’t a wrestler. Wrestling’s fake anyway.”

Jeyce clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. “He is. He’s Main Event Jey Uso, and my bonus mom is Rhea Ripley. They’re both champions.”

“Bonus mom?” The kid laughed, the taunting edge in his voice growing sharper. “You mean your actual parents are divorced? Who cheated on who?”

The mocking tone hit Jeyce like a punch to the gut. A part of him wanted to ignore it, to be the bigger person like his dad always said, but the words cut deep. He could feel the other kids around them watching, waiting to see what he’d do. His fingers tightened around the handle of his lunchbox, his anger bubbling to the surface.

“Hey, settle down back there,” Mr. Wilkins called, casting a warning look in their direction.

But it was too late. In a flash of frustration and hurt, Jeyce swung his lunchbox, the weight of it making contact with the kid’s head with a solid thud. The room went silent, every eye turning toward the back of the classroom as the boy let out a startled yelp, clutching his head.

Mr. Wilkins’ face darkened as he hurried over, his voice firm. “Jeyce! That’s enough. Both of you, stay seated. I’ll be contacting the office.”

Jeyce’s heart raced, the reality of what he’d just done hitting him. He slumped back into his chair, his chest heaving as he looked down at his lunchbox, his mind a swirl of regret and anger.

His first day at his new school was definitely not off to the start he’d hoped for.

—

Jey and Rhea stood in line at Starbucks, both of them scanning the menu as they waited to place their order. Rhea’s eyes lit up with excitement as she nudged Jey. “I need three cake pops and a refresher, ASAP!”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head at her enthusiasm. “I think I’ll try that caramel macchiato. Need a little something sweet today.”

Just as he was about to say something else, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he noticed an unfamiliar Connecticut number flashing on the display. Frowning, he answered, “Hello?”

A woman’s voice on the other end spoke up. “Hi, this is Vanessa Cameron from the Mead School’s Middle School Division. Is this Joshua Fatu?”

Jey’s face shifted into a look of concern, and Rhea immediately picked up on it, watching him closely. “Yeah, this is him. Is something wrong with my son? We just dropped him off like ten minutes ago.”

Vanessa sighed on the other end. “Mr. Fatu, there was an incident involving Jeyce. We’ve placed him under Individual Supervision Suspension for the rest of the day.”

Jey’s eyes widened, and Rhea’s brows knit together with worry as she strained to hear the conversation. “An incident? What happened?”

Vanessa explained, “It appears there was an altercation. Jeyce hit another student after an exchange of words. Unfortunately, he’s refusing to speak about it, so we’re still gathering details.”

Jey’s frustration was oozing out. “And what about the other kid? What’s being done about that?”

“We’re addressing each student involved individually,” Vanessa replied. “Since this is Jeyce’s first day, we’re willing to overlook it this time, but you’ll need to meet with the principal when you pick him up later today to discuss this further.”

Jey rubbed a hand over his face, taking a steadying breath before responding, “Alright. We’ll be there.”

He hung up and turned to Rhea, who looked at him expectantly. “What happened?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

Jey let out a sigh, trying to process the news. “That was the school. Apparently, Jeyce got into a fight. He hit another kid… They’re putting him in some sort of supervised suspension for the day.”

Rhea’s jaw dropped, and she blinked in disbelief. “Already? But he was so excited this morning… What happened?”

“Apparently, they were exchanging words, but he’s not talking about what was said,” Jey replied, his voice tinged with frustration and worry. “They’re going to overlook it since it’s his first day, but we have to meet with the principal when we pick him up.”

Rhea’s face softened, a mix of concern and determination flashing in her eyes. “He must have been provoked… It’s not like him to start something, especially not on the first day.”

Jey nodded, but there was still a storm of worry brewing inside him. “Yeah… I don’t know what it was, but if he’s shutting down already, something must’ve really gotten under his skin.”

Rhea looked at him, her voice quiet but firm. “We’ll figure it out, Jey. This is a big change for him. Maybe he just needs time to adjust.”

Jey took a deep breath, nodding as he reached for their order on the counter. “Yeah… Let’s hope that’s all it is.”

They shared a look, both silently agreeing to do whatever it took to make Jeyce feel secure in this new chapter of his life, even if it meant facing a few bumps along the way.

[writer-room]

Lloyd’s the kind of person to be completely silent while everyone is horribly singing Bohemian Rhapsody only to belt out the line “I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all” in perfect pitch and then fall dead silent again as he went back to like, reading a book or something. send post

[nariism]

ೃ⁀➷ THIEF! ★

Based off this ask by @raphuna-nekomada !!

The first time, Neuvillette brushed it off as if nothing had happened.

He spent the entire morning looking for his dedicated Monday bow, black with silver intricacies that you personally picked out for him many years ago.

"Must be a sign from the universe not to go into work," you hummed from the bed, rolling over and inviting him back under the blanket. He hadn't indulged you on Monday, instead opting to use his Tuesday ribbon and huffing about how he would find the missing article later.

The second time it happened, he was suspicious.

Two days in a row his ribbon had gone missing, now his Wednesday ribbon had been used for Tuesday. It irked him, and while he had no other reason to suspect that you were the culprit, the way you beckoned him back to bed again flicked a switch in his mind.

Ultimately, he hadn't indulged you on Tuesday either.

The third time it happens, he saunters up to your side of the bed immediately.

"My love," he calls, and for a moment you think he hasn't caught you because he's lacking any sort of stern tone— the kind he would address Wriothesley with.

"Yes?" You peer up at him with a glimmer of mischief, clutching something to your chest. His eyes narrow and he kneels onto the bed beside you.

"Have you seen my ribbon?"

"I haven't."

"Are you sure? I'm certain I left it on the dresser last night."

"You must be imagining things, dearest."

You give him a sly, lazy smile and that's when he knows you're nothing but a terrible liar. He nearly scoffs in your face, leaning down closer so he can look at you with a hardening expression.

"And what exactly is your ploy here? Would you like me to wrestle it out of your hands?"

Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment before you laugh, clearly finding his suggestion humorous. "Would it keep you at home longer if you did?"

The gears turn in his head at your words, slow realization washing over him as you blink up innocently. (Feigning innocence, actually. Poorly.)

Ah, so that's what this is all about.

"You want me to stay home?"

A beat of silence. "And if I said yes?"

"You know my answer." Yet he hasn't pulled away, gotten off the bed, and left for work like he does every morning. In fact, you're pretty sure he's drawn a couple inches closer to you.

The fabric you stole from him suddenly wraps around the back of the neck and you rein him in until he's hovering just above you, arms and legs caging you in on either side.

"Got you," you sing quietly.

His gaze flickers down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "You got me," he repeats in faux defeat, swooping down to capture you in a kiss.

He starts to think that maybe a day off wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but he has more than one trial today and there is no one to fill his role in his absence.

Still, Neuvillette decides that he can come to a compromise if only to hold you like this before his busy day. Besides, if he didn't indulge you now this would never end.

"Ten more minutes."

"Ouch. Stingy."

He smothers you under his body so you'll stop talking.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[dwaekkicidal]

Who are you calling a baby?

˚ʚJeongin x Fem!readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: You decide to join Stray Kids in teasing their maknae, your boyfriend, about being a "little baby." Let's just say he doesn't take very lightly to it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, mean!dom Jeongin (🤭), rough sex, degradation (calls u stupid and 'dirty girl'), traffic light system brought up once, hair pulling (once), spanking, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap ur willy also pee after sex), aftercare mentioned but not thoroughly, think that's all?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I was actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure trying not to make this into a "sir/daddy" thing (I should've. it prob would have been so much better bc i hate this grrr)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

You laugh along with Chan as he and Seungmin sit beside you, the three of you watching as Hyunjin lets his cuteness aggression loose on Jeongin. Ruffling his hair and throwing his whole body weight onto the poor maknae. They're taking one last break from their dance practice, deciding to go a few more rounds before heading home.

"You'll always be our baby, Jeongin~" Han sings to Jeongin, to no particular rhythm. Jeongin laughs but desperately crawls out of Hyunjin's grasp, seeking protection from a spot on the floor between your legs.

"He's just a babyy! My lil' baby boy~'' You tease at him, smiling fondly before pinching his cheeks. He looks up at you and pouts cutely.

"I'm not a baby.."

"Yes you are! You're our cute little baby~ You prove my point when you make a face like that!" You laugh, brushing his hair back to make it more presentable after Hyunjin's attack before grabbing his chin and squishing his cheeks to prove your point even further. A few of the guys around you laugh and join in, poking and tickling at Jeongin while throwing in comments here and there about him being their Baby Bread, him laughing as he tries to protect himself from their attacks.

Eventually the 7 of them stand up and walk towards their spots on the floor. Your boyfriend sits on the floor a little longer, catching his breath as he looks up at you, staring into your eyes with a blank expression. Your eyes catch his and you tilt your head down at him, smiling. He stares for a few moments longer, expression unchanging, before quickly standing up and walking towards his dedicated spot. You think nothing of it and pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling on a random choice of social media and getting comfortable.

After some time of hearing the same part of a song on repeat, you feel a pair of eyes burning into you. Looking up, you see the boys discussing a mistake somebody made. As you scan the boys, you meet your boyfriend's gaze. His eyes boring into you with another unreadable expression before he narrows his eyes towards you and turns back to the mirror, getting into position. You furrow your eyebrows at the back of his head, staring at him a little longer in hopes that he would turn around and explain himself. Is he upset about the teasing? Surely he knows I'm just messing around.. Once you realize that won't happen you sigh and shake your head, turning your attention to our phone once again. Assuming that he would get over this "fit" soon.

Not long after this, the guys all agree to call it a night. Jeongin opted to stay at your place for the weekend since you both had the next few days off. "I just want to spend some sweet time with my girlfriend," he explains to his hyungs. But the tightening grip on the back of your neck tells you otherwise.

The ride to your apartment was quiet aside from the radio. His hand never left your thigh and occasionally squeezed when he felt your gaze on him. Before you know it, the both of you are walking into your bedroom

"Are you okay? You've been super quiet for the last few hours." You ask, setting your bag down on the dresser and taking your (his) sweater off, landing it on the edge of the bed. You take a seat as he turns to you, his arms cross and his expression blank asides from the bump you see on his cheek. His tongue poking his cheek out in what you can only assume is annoyance or anger.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know.. you've been super quiet since the little teasing fiasco earlier.. Are you actually mad?" He raises an eyebrow at the way you enunciate the word 'actually,' but chooses to stay quiet and frowns down at you.

"Oh my gosh.. you're actually upset?" You laugh, standing up and taking a step forward so that you're in front of him "Baby...." You start as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, planting a kiss on the corner of his lip before continuing, "You know I was just messing with you, it's all playful banter. You're my baby and I'm yours, there's nothing wrong with that. I'm sorry that you got upset." You giggle, showering him in kisses before you feel his arms unfold and reach behind you to embrace you.

Melting into his embrace, you litter more kisses on his face, waiting for a response. When you still don't get one, you pull away slightly to check on him only to be met with a smile. One that doesn't quite meet his eyes. One you thought was genuine until one of his hands trails into your hair, grabbing a tight handful, and tilting your head back forcibly. Your eyes screw shut as you wince, whimpering when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

He plants a few kisses silently before pulling back and smirking, loosening his grip so you look at him again. "What happened to all that laughing? Fox got your tongue?"

You pout and open your mouth to say something before he pushes you forcefully onto the bed. It catches you off guard and you take a second to try to even your breathing as he leans down, pushing your back to meet the bed and hovering over you. His lips ghost around your jawline and your neck, occasionally leaving wet kisses and small marks and rendering you breathless.

"C'mon baby... keep running your pretty little mouth.." He says, one of his hands by your head moving to slowly trail down your body until he meets your waist. He caresses your hips softly before continuing, "My hyungs aren't here to protect you anymore. So let's see if you still think you're oh so funny.." You let out a gargled noise as he bites down on your collarbone, moaning lightly as his hand moves to unbuckle your jeans, pulling them off you in one fell swoop as he pulls away from your neck.

When you don't say anything he lands an open handed smack on your thigh. "Why is the 'little boy' like me taking control? Use your words like the big girl that you swear you are."

You whimper at the sting on your thigh, but look him in the eyes and suddenly it's your turn to pout. "I said I was sorry baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." He lands another smack in the same area, not liking your response. He rubs the area to soothe the pain, but also as a warning of what's to come.

He leans forward and the other hand grabs your chin, making you keep eye contact, before leaning forward, "Let's see how far acting coy will get you. Sit up."

You feel your stomach tighten at his demandingness, but you listen and sit up on shaky arms. He pulls your shirt over your head before pulling off his own, throwing both behind him without looking.

"Color?" He asks, as he pushes your legs apart with his knee.

"Green" you whisper back, breathing heavily as he bends down to place a kiss on your stomach, pulling your underwear from under your ass and down your legs. You feel him smirk against your stomach, "Of course it is... dirty, dirty girl."

He trails small kisses down your stomach at an agonizingly slow pace. Eventually he reaches your pelvis, he swats at your thigh when your leg twitches in anticipation before meeting your eyes and speaking up again. "I want your eyes on me at all times. No closing your eyes, no looking away. Okay?"

You nod your head and watch as he shoots you a crooked smile, making sure to hold eye contact with you before leaning in and placing a kiss directly on your clit. Immediately two of his long fingers softly rub along your folds, gathering your wetness before you feel them slide against your gummy walls, quickly finding the spot that has your legs weak. He makes a good pace off the bat; not too fast and not too slow. Your eyes still stare into his, and you let out moans as he fingers you while licking his lips. He leans down further and places kisses on your inner thigh and uses his free hand to undo his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers just enough so his cock bounces out. He strokes himself a few times and tilts his head at you teasingly as he makes a particularly hard thrust. His gaze moves between your legs as he adds a third finger and frees his other hand to massage your clit.

With his piercing gaze not on your face, you quickly forget your previous promise to keep your eyes on him and you throw your head back. You let out a particularly loud moan as your eyes close and your legs shake, struggling to stay spread. He suddenly pulls his hands away from you and lands a harsh slap to your clit, pushing your legs apart when they clamp shut from the sudden sting. You squeal loudly in surprise and your head jolts forward, your eyes opening to look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and tears pricking your eyes.

"Do you not know how to listen? Or are you just trying to piss me off again?" He grumbles, frowning at you as he pushes your knees to your chest. He holds you in place as he lands another smack to your cunt. "I was gonna be nice about it and spoil you, but since you don't know how to follow basic instructions, we'll do this my way. Be good for fucking once and hold your legs for me, yeah?" He spits out, pulling his hands away when you shakily hug the backs of your knees. He rubs his tip against your folds repeatedly before dipping just the tip in.

" 'M sorry-yyyy!" You try saying before he cuts you off and bottoms out. He groans and leans forward, towering over you and placing his hands beside your head, planting himself above you. He pulls out all the way to the tip before locking eyes with you and smiling smugly at you, "Yeah? You're sorry? My pretty little baby is sorry?" When you open your mouth to respond he suddenly thrusts all the way into the hilt, pulling a loud moan from your lips as you furrow your eyebrows, closing your eyes yet again.

"Aww, baby... What am I gonna do with you.. Too cock-dumb to follow basic instructions…” he laughs at you before finding a fast pace, one that has you seeing stars as he pounds into you repeatedly. The angle you're in makes him hit all the right angles constantly while still making him go so deep. So much so that you feel him hit your cervix a few times, making you whimper as you look up at him with teary eyes.

You moan out his name as your grip on your legs tighten, already feeling so close after cumming not long ago.

"Don't worry baby, sit there nice and pretty for me and I'll take care of you. I'll let it slide just this once and 'll fuck you nice and stupid, okay? Though.. I'm not so sure it will be any different than how stupid you normally are?"

"Pleaseee" You whine out, a few tears finally falling at the mix of his words and the constant stimulation. He laughs at you and moves one of his hands to your mouth, tapping your lips to let him in. You open your mouth enough so that his thumb enters your mouth, and you knowingly suck on his fingers. Once he deems it wet enough he pulls his thumb out and moves it to where you two meet, messily rub circles onto your clit.

"Jeongin... 's so goodd" You cry out at the extra stimulation, nails digging further into your legs.

He leans back and his free hand reaches forward to smear your tears into your cheek, "Stop crying baby, you can take it. mmmmmm.. You will take it. You owe me for being such a bitch earlier and trying to embarrass me in front of my hyungs."

You moan loudly and throw your head back, tilting it slightly to look up at him, "Fffuck baby! I.. I promise, I swear I didn't mean it like-" Before you can finish he grabs your face and pulls you forward, "C'mon, babe, I know you can make up a better excuse than that. Or are you too cock-dumb to use your pretty little head? Hm??" He teases, ending his sentence with another slap to your clit, one that makes you loosen your hold on your legs.

Your eyes gloss over and he smirks, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaning back and continuing his brutal pace. When he feels you grip him stronger he knows you're close and he pushes further, in order to get you there faster. "You gonna come? Huh, pretty little thing?" You nod and moan mindlessly as you look up at him, mumbling out mindless pleads before he pushes your knees into your chest again and chases both of your highs.

"Then cum, stupid baby. Milk me dry, okay? Be a good girl baby." He says out of breath, as he leans forward and pulls you into a kiss. One of his hands comes down on your ass and it's enough to send you over the edge. You're squeezing him like a vice and it's enough for him to finish next. He breaks the kiss to groan, pulling away to stare where the two of you meet, watching his cum get fucked out of you with each thrust. Once he rides out both of your highs, he leans forward to leave hickeys in your collarbone.

After a short time, he pulls out slowly and softly lays your legs against the bed. You sigh at the empty feeling, but are thankful that your legs can stretch out.

"F-Fffuck.. Jeonginnn'' You whine, feeling even more cum drip out of you. He laughs and leans forward to pull you into a kiss, softly smudging his cum along your folds with his fingers before leaving a final, much softer, slap. He leaves soft kisses all over your face as you catch your breath, mumbling an 'I'll be right back' before disappearing into your bathroom. You faintly hear the water running and he quickly returns, wiping you down with a cloth that was soaked with warm water. You finally catch your breath e as he throws the cloth onto the pile of your clothes from earlier, deciding to put them in the hamper later.

You look up at him and give him a sex-drunk smile, giggling as he lays next to you before pulling you into his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest one of your legs on his hip, and he massages it to sooth the muscles as his other hand draws circles into your back. He holds eye contact with you for a moment before pulling you into a kiss.

"You okay baby?" He asks, pulling away to smother your face in kisses as he gives you time to respond.

"Amazing, actually... " You mumble out, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Good... Rest up baby, you're gonna need it." He says between kisses and lands a smack to your ass. He laughs in your face as you look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. He grinds against your core and you realize that he's hard again, making your eyes widen a little.

"Oh, my love.... you thought we were done?"

[star-girl69]

In A Good Way

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)

a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

In A Good Way - Faye Webster

warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.

You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.

She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.

“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.

“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”

You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.

Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.

You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.

“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”

You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”

Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.

“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.

“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.

“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”

“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”

Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.

You smile.

You see her eyes soften.

She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.

Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.

On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.

You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.

You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.

Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.

“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”

“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.

“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”

“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”

“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Percy chuckles a bit.

“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.

“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.

“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.

“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta-”

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”

Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.

“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”

“Maybe,” Luke concedes.

“Great. Where do we start?”

You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”

—-

You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.

You sit down next to her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.

“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.

“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”

She hums.

“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”

She shoots you a bored look.

“Don’t say horrible things like that.”

You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Oh, I know.”

—-

“What happened to you?”

You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.

“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”

You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.

“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.

“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.

“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”

She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.

“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”

“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”

“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.

—-

Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.

You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.

You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.

After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.

Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.

“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”

You know these rules by heart.

Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.

She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.

“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”

You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.

Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.

“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.

The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.

Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.

“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.

Capture the flag games are taken seriously.

She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.

“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.

“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.

She smiles, a full toothy grin.

“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”

Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.

You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.

“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”

She just smiles.

—-

One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.

The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.

“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.

“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.

Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.

“Hi, Luke,” you smile.

He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.

“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”

Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.

You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”

You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.

“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.

As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.

“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.

Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”

The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.

“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.

He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.

Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.

It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.

They grab the flag and run for the beach.

The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.

“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.

“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.

Matty helps you up.

“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”

“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”

Matty claps your shoulder.

“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”

And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…

“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.

—-

The scream scares you.

All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.

“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”

“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.

“Clar- wait, Y/N!”

But you’re already long gone.

—-

You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.

“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”

You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.

You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.

“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.

“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.

You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?

“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”

You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.

You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.

“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”

She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.

“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.

—-

You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.

She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.

She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.

You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”

She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.

“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.

You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.

“Oh, you can.”

“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.

“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”

She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.

“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”

You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”

She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.

“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.

You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.

“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”

“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”

Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.

She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.

“He broke it,” she whispers.

“Broke what?”

She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.

“He broke my spear.”

“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.

“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”

You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.

Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.

Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.

And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.

Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.

If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.

—-

Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.

She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.

When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.

It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.

“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”

“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.

“C’mon, baby, who?”

“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”

“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.

You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.

“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.

“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”

Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.

“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”

You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.

When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.

—-

clarisse, about to beat up percy

y/n: oh no no no no you don’t

clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍

—-

y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles

clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE

—-

y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke

—-

[tootiecakes234]

Warning: NSFW

Character aged up

You ask Katsuki if you can paint his PP🤭:

“No! Get the hell away from me!” And he starts walking away from you.

“But Katsuki! I’d make it so pretty. I already have a vision in mind. I want to paint it into a microphone! Maybe sing a song into it.” You say following behind him, positive you aren’t helping your situation.

“Y/N if you don’t get away from me right now, we are breaking up. I’m packing my shit and leaving and you’ll never see me ever again! I meant it.” And he plops down on the couch with an exaggerated groan. “You’ve lost your entire fucking mind, smooth brain.”

You know you’re gonna have to grovel for this one. You try to slide yourself onto his lap, but he pushes you off and you bounce a little on the couch cushions.

“No, you’re not kissing and snuggling your way into this. I’m not letting you practice your goddamn painting skills on my dick. Where do you even come up with this shit?” He says now looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“Well I was scrolling on TikTok-“

“And there it goes. I’m not even surprised.”

You lean over and run your hands over the his wide chest and buff arms.

“‘Suki when you think about, a microphone is only two colors. Black and grey. It would only take me like 5 minutes.” And then you start pressing kisses to his neck. “Pretty please. I’ll even hop in the shower with you after and help you clean up.” There’s a sultry lilt to your voice. This is something you pull out all the weapons in your arsenal for.

“Y/N i go along with a lot of your dumbass ideas, but I’m drawing the line. No paint on my d-dick. Fuck, cut it out.” You had slipped your hands down his stomach and right under the shorts he had on.

“But it’ll be easier to paint if its hard Kat, don’t ya think?” You whisper up against his ear. You run your thumb over the top and smear the precum over his slit.

“Ugghhh. I hate you, you know that.” He groans really low.

“Mmmmhhh. Pretty please,” you say and stroke down to the base of his cock and then back up. “With a cherry on top.”

“You have 10 f-fucking minutes! And that paint better be safe for skin or I swear to god!” He shouts at you.

You’re up and off the couch before he can even finish that sentence and within a minute you’re back with the paint you already had prepared and brushes.

You get down on your knees, in between his legs, and place your supplies on the ground next you. For him to be so against it, he’s already pulled off his shirt and underwear. He’s accepted his fate.

“Okay, if any of the brushes are uncomfortable or the paints don’t feel good, let me know k?” You say looking up at him.

This man has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring daggers into you.

“What the hell ever woman. Hurry up, your time’s tickin.”

So you pick up a big fluffy brush and dip it into the black paint before you start working on the base of his dick.

As soon as the brush touches against his skin Katsuki screams bloody murder. Its scared the hell out of you and you’re surprised at yourself that you don’t drop the damn brush and get paint everywhere.

When you look up at him to ask him what’s wrong the bastard has a smirk on his goddamn face his shoulder are shaking because he’s holding in his laughter.

“You should’ve seen yourself. Your entire body took a screenshot. I thought you might go into shock.” Now he’s outwardly laughing loud as fuck.

He thinks he’s such a comedian. Well too bad for him because we’re a freakin party clown.

While he’s still laughing you bend down and take the head of his cock in your mouth and swirl your tongue all over it.

His laugh is cut short and you look up to see him squeezing his eyes shut. You pull your head back up and give him a sweet smile.

“So now, how about you cut out the jokes and let me focus on my masterpiece.” And you hear him grumble back some kind of rude response but you take that as an understanding.

You breathe and try to gain your composure before you start back on the task in front of you. You again start at the base of his cock and then do long stokes upwards until you get right below the shroomed tip.

You’re about halfway through when you notice his cock twitching and leaking pre all over.

Oh my gosh he likes this. Or it at least feels good because damn. When you look up at him there’s a blush covering his face and his lips are tight like he’s trying to hold in sounds that might escape. His eyes though are trained on the brush in your hand as you work.

You were about to speak when he cut you off, “Don’t. Just hurry up and finish”

“Yes sir” you say slyly as your start working on the other side.

“Ok. Base is done. Now the tip, I know how sensitive you are so I’ll try to be gentle.” And now you’re the one with a smirk on your face. “Look I can’t paint correctly if there’s precum constantly leaking up here.”

“The fuck do you want me to do. I’m not making it leak out on purpose.” He rolls his eyes at, throws his head back and uses his arm to cover his face. Hes not quick enough to cover the blush that’s dusting his cheeks.

It’s so funny that he still get embarrassed in front of you. You take your thumb and lightly run it over the top to pick up as much pre as possible then you pop it in your mouth. Then you get to work.

You dab lightly around it and make sure to avoid the opening. You hear Katsuki’s breath become more ragged.

“Ok, I’m all done. Take a look.” He removes his arms and leans his head back up. You see that his eyes are blown but you try to ignore it for now. “Do you see the vision?”

“This is so dumb.” Is the only answer you get from him.

Next thing you know you’ve wrapped your hand around it and you start singing. “ANNNNDDDDD IIIIIIIII—eeeee-IIIIII will always love Y-“

You’re cut off because he’s gotten up grabbing you with him and now you’re thrown over his shoulder.

“I’m done with this. Not about to watch you sing Karaoke into my penis. You promised me a shower.”he says as he starts striding toward the bathroom.

“But I wasn’t done! I wanted to take pictures and maybe rap a verse or two. Kats wait dammit.”

“No. I was nice. I let you play and have your fun. Now it’s my turn to play around and have some fun.” You can hear the smug grin on his face.

You take this opportunity and slap his naked ass hard asf. You were right outside the bathroom door and the jerk sets you on your feet so quickly you feel like you’re gonna fall.

“You’re gonna pay for that brat.”

And oh do you pay for it.😭

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife

*I have a tag list. Let me know if you wanna be added💕🤗

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: Onyankopon x black!reader

warnings: beach sex, fluffy

a/n: this was something i quickly put together bc guess what y'all. a bitch turns 22 today!!!! AHHHHHH. ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ��� ꒱ྀི১ we'll see if im sober enough later to share some pictures, but i do hope yall enjoy this fic. she's very cutesy

Birthday wishes

Loved. That's the feeling coursing through your body as the ones you loved sang you happy birthday. Your cheeks hurting from the attention and laughter due to Jean and Eren's off key singing.

Looking up from the dessert decorated with flames your eyes scanned the tent before landing on him.

The single dimple decorating his left cheek was prominent as he happily sang along with the group. The most handsome smile being sent your way as your eyes locked, giving you a full display of his gold grills decorated with your initials on each upper canine.

To say Onyankopon was a good boyfriend was an understatement. He was everything and more when it came to your wishes in a man. He was respectful, kind, passionate, extremely handsome, and the most caring man you had ever met.

Birthdays had never been your thing due to something always going wrong leaving you sad at the end of the night. However, with Ony he made it his mission to have you feel properly celebrated, always leaving you feeling like a princess by the end of the night.

Throughout the entire 3 years of your relationship, he seemed to make each birthday better than last. This year being a surprise trip to Bora Bora.

Forcing yourself to break eye contact with him you looked back down at the dessert just as the song ended.

“Girl, make a wish. I'm hungry” Sasha blurted out immediately, earning a chorus of laughs and a light shove from Mikasa.

Quickly thinking of a wish, you lightly blew out the candles and basked in the cheers and applause sent your way.

After hours of having all attention on you, there was finally a time when you and Ony could run off together.

Silently the two of you walked hand in hand as you listened closely to the crashing of the waves.

“You having a good day?” He broke the silence once no longer in the eyesight of your friends

“I am” You smiled brightly as you stopped to admire the sunset “I can't thank you enough for doing this, Ony”

A small chuckle escaped him as he stopped to look at you.

Unable to tear his eyes away from your face as his heart melted at the glow the orange hue dancing on your face gave you.

God, you were just so beautiful to him. The way you smiled down to the way the soft breeze lightly blew your sundress was enough to make him fall in love all over again.

“Don't thank me, princess. You deserve this and more” He voiced as his large hands gripped your waist, a gentle hum leaving him as he finally felt satisfied with the feeling of your body flushed against him.

“I’d do anything for you. I'm just blessed to have you in my life” He admitted, voice softer than before.

Leaning down his lips brushed over the sensitive skin of your neck before trailing up to lightly place a kiss on your lips

Before you knew it you were staring up at the colorful hues of the sky as he delivered slow and passionate strokes

“Ony” You mewled softly, nails scratching across his back as he practically laid on top of you.

"Mhmm?" He murmured, his voice vibrating against your neck before lifting his head to stare into your eyes

There was nothing you could do but drown in those chocolate brown eyes. Complete bliss surrounding you as the waves seemed to time perfectly with his delicate movements.

“I love you so much” You finally gasped out. Voice wavering due to the intense amount of love and pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I love you too, mama” He whispered, strong arms reaching down to hook under your leg, giving him a better angle

The moment was perfect. The crashing of the waves, transition into nightfall, and grunts that slipped past Ony’s lips

You weren't exactly a true believer in wishes but at this moment in time you were the biggest believer of all.

[riordanness]

lover — [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1K

warnings: none

requested: yes!! anon <3

You’d think that working for the greatest chocolate maker in the world would be awesome, right?

You’d be correct. However… some parts were not quite so awesome. Especially when you’re head over heels in love with said chocolate maker.

“Noodle!” I scold, laughing as she tosses yet another chocolate in her mouth, rather than stacking them as we’re supposed to be doing.

She shrugs, and gives me a wicked grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”

I roll my eyes, taking a bite out of my own selected piece of chocolate. Willy always says that we should eat whatever and whenever we like. He just cares that much for us.

“What do you want to do when you’re older, y/n?” Noodle asks me suddenly.

I frown at the question. “I am older.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re like eighteen. I mean older, older.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty content just working at this shop right now. But I’d like to fall in love, get married, and have a family. That would be nice, I guess. It’s not likely, though.”

“Why not? That’s totally likely.”

I smile a little. “Because, Noodle-dee, I’m not that kind of girl. Guys don’t just go and fall in love with me.”

She smirks a little, and pops another chocolate in her mouth. “You never know, y/n-doo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a smile in my voice.

Noodle doesn’t reply, so I let it go, going back to stacking Willy’s gorgeous chocolates in their pretty display cases for the shop. This is honestly probably my favourite job in the entire store. Making it look pretty.

It’s the end of the day, all the customers are gone, and just Noodle, Willy, and I are left, all doing our individual closing duties.

Noodle cleans the floors, I count the till money, and Willy, well, I’m still not exactly sure what he does, but he walks through every single room in the entire building, checking something.

Probably some big important, owner-of-the-chocolate-factory job I don’t know about.

Noodle and her bucket of soapy water makes it way over to me. “Hey y/n,” she sing-songs.

“Mm?” I glance up from counting silver sovereigns.

“You know how you were saying you wanted to fall in love?”

“Someday, yeah.”

Noodle looks amused about something. “Are you already in love? Do you at least have someone in mind?”

My brain immediately, unhelpfully, offers up an image of Willy, with his smiling face and unruly dark curls. I suddenly get very flustered. “Uh—no. Of course not, Noodle.”

“Really.” She raises an eyebrow, deadpanning at me.

I shake my head. “I don’t have anyone, uh, in mind, no. I’m not in love. That’s ridiculous.”

At that moment, without either me or Noodle noticing, Willy reenters the main shop room where we both are. But I’m so engrossed in trying to convince Noodle to drop this topic that I don’t even see him.

“What about Willy?” Noodle suddenly asks.

I drop my stack of sovereigns. “What do you mean?”

Noodle has her hands on her hips. “You like him. It’s so obvious.”

I fumble with the coins, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “No—? I don’t—um. No. I don’t like him. I mean I do, like him. But not, uh, like, like him.”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”

I groan, slamming the sovereigns onto the counter. “Fine. You win, Noodle-dee. I like Willy. A lot. In fact, I’m desperately in love with him and I think about him almost constantly. Now can you please drop it?” I don’t even realise I have tears in my eyes, but my emotions suddenly come to a swirling head, and I hiccup, and brush a tear away.

“I’m sorry,” Noodle whispers, but she sounds more triumphant than sorry. “I won’t ask you about it again.”

She grabs up her bucket and leaves abruptly.

I blink a few times, let out a sigh, and finish up with the till money. Then I flick off all the lights, lock up the inner doors, and get ready to leave for the day.

Noodle has already signed out, so I guess it’s only Willy left in the shop somewhere. “Willy?” I call, “I’m heading off now!”

Willy appears, hurrying over to me. “Thanks, y/n.” He has a weird look on his face, and he won’t look at me.

“Everything okay?” I ask uncertainly. “You look strange.”

He shakes his head. “Fine, fine. I’m okay.”

“Alright.” I shrug. “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say this every day. It’s like clockwork.

Willy usually echoes it back, tells me to get home safely, and gives me a smile. But today, it’s different.

“Y/n, wait,” he says, just as my fingers are on the doorknob.

I glance at him. “Yeah?”

He licks his lips, glancing everywhere but me. “I heard you and Noodle earlier.”

I freeze, unsure of what to say or do. “You did?”

He nods. “Is it true? You’re in love with me?”

I don’t answer right away. I look at him for a moment, breathe, and then nod my head once. “Ever since I met you,” I say, and try to laugh. But it’s not really that funny. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Because I am just y/n, and he is Willy Wonka.

“Me too, you know.”

It takes me way too many heartbeats to understand what he means. “What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, silly.” He chuckles, playing with his fingers.

I stare at him. “You… you, what?”

He laughs again, more forcefully this time. “Y/n, just come here.” He reaches for me, hands cupping my face, and when he pulls me into him, and kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It’s surreal, like a dream, but it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s him, and it’s everything.

[endless-ineffabilities]

husband for a day

Ewan Mitchell x best friend reader

a/n: another spur-of-the-moment baby :) that is all.

main masterlist

With a resounding groan, you push your hair out of your face, and reach for your bedside. You prop your phone on its side to watch as 5:07 PM flashes on the screen.

Great. An entire day wasted.

You roll over on your back, eyes involuntarily squinting at the last burnt orange rays of sunlight reflected on your ceiling. All at once, an overwhelming thirst takes a hold of you, as well as the initial telltale signs of a killer migraine.

"Ewaaaan!"

Your best friend pokes his head through your door. Upon confirming that you're indeed awake, he saunters into the room while sporting a wide grin. "Well, look who's finally up."

"I don't wanna be," you moan, pressing your palms to your eyes.

"Love, you slept.... 10 hours already." Ewan perches beside you, clutching your wrists and pulling them down, clearing the way for him to press a kiss on your forehead. "Get up, trooper, come on now."

You sit up, immediately feeling woozy. Oh yeah, the alcohol was still sloshing inside of you, that treacherous devil juice making you feel like a lump of coal.

"Ughhh, I can’t." You lean your head against his shoulder, which shakes with his laughter—not exactly helping your headache. You grip him tight with both hands. "Stop fucking moving, Ewan Robert."

"Alright, ducky," he presses a kiss atop your head, allowing you to seek comfort as you anchor yourself to him, wrapping your legs and arms around his figure like a sloth. Another softer laugh escapes him. He caresses your back soothingly, then says, "I've got a glass of water and aspirin right here. You should take a drink first, okay? You'll feel much better, I promise."

No response. He begins to think that you've fallen asleep on him, when your eye opens just a crack, "Do you promise?"

"I'd never lie to you, ducky." He hands you the tablets and the water, which you down in record time, somehow still parched after.

"Mmm."

"Better?"

"Ewan... do I smell pancakes?"

"Okay, so..." you mumble through a mouthful of pancake, struggling to form the words. "Tell me again, how exactly did last night go?"

Ewan chuckles, tightening his arm around you as you sit side by side on high stools by the kitchen counter. He gently nudges a glass of orange juice in your direction, already anticipating your needs. "You really want the full recap?" he teases, brushing a crumb off your cheek.

"Yes, hubby," you reply, grinning despite your headache. It’s part of your little game—Husband and Wife for a Day—a title you both use when one of you is down for the count, the other taking on the doting spouse role with unwavering commitment. This morning, Ewan's all-in: he's made breakfast (dinner, really), restocked your aspirin supply, and even personally carried you from your bedroom to the kitchen.

"Alright, ducky." He leans in, resting his chin on his hand as if he’s settling in for a long story. "Last night, you insisted that you could outdrink Rhys, and wouldn’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "Please tell me I won, at least."

"Well... you didn't," he laughs, rubbing your back. "But it was brilliant. And when you got tired, guess who carried you back here?"

You peek at him through your fingers, feigning a scowl. "Fine, I admit it. You make a pretty solid husband."

He leans back, feigning deep offense. "Pretty solid? You wound me," he says with mock drama, hand on his heart. "You should be singing my praises."

"Oh, should I?" you counter, grinning despite yourself.

Ewan's smile softens as he leans in, close enough that his voice drops to a gentle, teasing murmur. "You should. After all, it is a husband's job to make sure his wife is fully taken care of. Right?" His thumb lightly traces a path along your shoulder, sending a shiver up your spine.

You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the quickening beat of your heart as you hold his gaze. This is just part of the game, you remind yourself. "Fully taken care of?" you echo, barely able to hide your grin.

He nods, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You know, satisfied. I wouldn't want to leave any duties… unfinished," he says, the last word thick with implication.

For a moment, the teasing fades, replaced by a warmth that's both familiar and exhilarating. Ewan's gaze holds yours, a silent invitation sparking in his smile.

You lean in playfully, a teasing smile dancing on your lips as you aim for a quick kiss on Ewan's cheek. But just as you're about to close the distance, he unexpectedly turns his head. In an instant, your lips meet his—slightly chapped yet soft all the same, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than intended.

Ewan freezes, his eyes widening slightly, and you both pull back simultaneously, confusion etched on your faces.

"Wait—were we still playing the game?" he asks, his brow furrowed, as if trying to dissect the layers of what just happened.

You blink, your heart racing as you try to steady yourself and keep from simply bridging the distance and kissing him again. "Y-yes, weren't we? But then again..." You fail to sound unaffected, a nervous catch clear in your voice.

Ewan stares at you for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that feels like realisation. "I mean, I was just… you know, being the 'husband.' But then you… actually kissed me."

"Right," you reply, mirroring his bewildered expression. "But I was... I was aiming for your cheek. You moved suddenly and—"

"Right. Right, I did move."

Silence hangs between you for a moment, both of you trying to find your footing. It feels as if the playful banter has shifted into something more serious, and yet, both of you are still processing what it all means.

"Ducky, I... I love you?" Ewan finally says, a shy smile breaking through the confusion, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

You let out an incredulous laugh at the absurdity of the moment. Did you even have a hangover? It seems as if that sensation has been effectively replaced by whatever this is. "Are you... are you asking me or—"

"I love you."

"Oh, Ewan."

"You don't have to say anything if you're not ready," he adds quickly, his confidence wavering. "I know this is sudden—"

"No, wait," you interrupt, your heart racing as you search his blue eyes. "I'm not not ready. I've just… I didn't expect you to say that now.

"And... I love you too. I always have."

His expression shifts from uncertainty to pure elation, and without another word, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's deep and raw and passionate, igniting a spark you both had tried to ignore. The world around you fades away, leaving only the heat between you, the soft press of his body against yours.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you catching your breath. "Fuckin' hell," he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "That's a much better reaction than I was expecting."

You smirk, feeling the thrill of the moment course through you. "Well, consider me impressed. But I think we might need to up the ante here, hubby."

"Is that a challenge, baby?"he asks, his voice dropping an octave, filled with a promise that sends a thrill through you.

"Maybe," you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, letting your lips barely brush against his. "I just want to see how far you're willing to go to prove you’re worthy of this title."

Ewan's gaze darkens with desire, and he moves even closer, his hands finding your waist, coaxing you to sit on top of his thighs. "You have no idea how far I'd go for you," he murmurs thickly.

Your breath hitches as you feel the heat radiating from his body. "Oh really? Care to show me?"

"Absolutely," he replies, his lips colliding with yours in a fervent embrace, his hands traversing your sides in a way that betrays the insatiable hunger he feels.

Your last remaining shred of restraint peeks through, and you push him back slightly, your eyes locking onto his. "Are you sure about this? I mean, this isn't just a game anymore."

"I'm sure," he replies, his expression nothing if not determined. "This is what I want, ducky. All of you."

You can't help but smile at the sincerity in his voice, but a playful challenge flickers in your eyes. "Then you better prove it. I want you to take care of me, just like you promised."

Ewan's lips curl into a devilish smirk. "Oh, I intend to. You just wait."

With that, he leans in again, kissing you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hands explore your hips, fingers teasing the hem of your shirt, and you shiver at the roughness of his hands. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his dark blonde tresses as you deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, Ewan pulls back, breathless, his pupils shot black, and his lips slick from you. "How about we take this to a more… proper setting?" he suggests.

"Lead the way," you whisper, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

Once inside your bedroom, Ewan turns to you, his gaze smoldering as he closes the door behind him. "Are you ready, baby?" he asks, a query of both of lust and sincerity.

"What are you waiting for?" you reply, reclaiming the space between you, and kiss him again.

"Oh, my heart,” he murmurs between kisses, his lips trailing along your jawline. "Now you'll get to experience what it really means to be Mrs. Ewan Mitchell."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I'm clearing out my draft folder again.

Steve and Robin were running through Starcourt, high as fuck when Steve skidded to a stop in front of Eddie Munson.

"You look like Eddie Munson," Steve giggled.

"Steve!" Robin said with wide eyes. "I think that is - "

"Man, what happened to your face?" Eddie asked.

"Funny story, can you keep a secret from Eddie?" Steve said seriously.

"Sure," Eddie grinned.

"No, Steve, that's - ,"

"ANYWAY," Steve rolled his eyes at Robin. "I had this crush on him in freshman year. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Uh - are you guys on drugs?" Eddie asked.

"YES! But we didn't want to," Robin said. "They wanted information."

"Aw, fuck, there's this guy that works with Rick. Real sketchy. I told him he needs to let him go before he gets Rick into trouble, but does Rick listen to me? Nah!" Eddie exclaimed. "Look, whatever the hell he gave you should wear off. Not all drug dealers are like that. What we pitch to you is what you get. What you want is what you get. Okay, let's get you guys to the bathroom and try to get it out of your system. Come on."

"I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said with a grin. "Shh! Wait here. I'll tell you how it goes."

Steve ran off with Robin on his tail. Eddie cursed and chased after them. They got distracted by the lights hanging overhead and started spinning around, gazing at them in awe.

"You guys do not want to do that," Eddie said, and they started heaving before they ran off in the direction of the bathrooms. "And that's why."

He ran off after them and into the bathroom room, where they vomited into the toilets. Eddie knelt down next to him and stroked Steve’s hair as he emptied the contents of his stomach. Once Steve was done, he leaned his head into Eddie's touch and closed his eyes, letting Eddie stroke his hair. He whined when Eddie moved away and saw him go to the sink. He came back with a wet, soapy paper towel and started cleaning Steve’s face.

"I guess I'm chopped liver," Robin said. "It's okay, I'll get it myself."

Steve laughed and made a face at the taste in his mouth. Eddie clapped a hand on his back.

"I'll be right back," Eddie said.

He rushed off to buy a couple of toothbrushes and toothpaste. He also picked up what he thought was lip balm. When he returned, he he heard them talking. They were clearly bonding, solidifying their working relationship into a friendship. Or maybe something more considering how Robin was talking about watching Steve. Shit, maybe Eddie should leave. They were talking about someone else now.

"But Tammy Thompson's a girl," Steve said.

"Yeah," Robin said.

"Oh."

Or maybe not. Oh God, Robin was coming out to Steve, and Eddie was overhearing it. Oh God, what should he do? He was frozen to the spot. Steve was going on about how Tammy Thompson was a total dud and how she sounded like a Muppet. Eddie snorted. Yeah, that was true.

"I can't believe you're making fun of my crush," Robin laughed. "What about yours?"

"Hey, at least Eddie can sing," Steve replied.

Fuck! Okay, so he had been telling the truth then.

"How do you know he can sing?" Robin asked.

"My car broke down near the Hideout one night, and I heard him singing. He was playing with his band, Corroded Coffin," Steve said. "They were really good. I was going to go talk to him, but I kind of thought that the drummer was his girlfriend, but that's crazy. I mean, guys and girls can just be friends, right?"

"I like to think so," Robin replied.

There was a long pause in their conversation, which gave Eddie plenty of opportunity to burst through the door.

"Okay, so I have a green toothbrush and a pink one," Eddie said. "Which one do you guys want?"

"Ooh, pink," Steve said and they stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Eddie said in amusement.

He watched as they brushed their teeth. Well, he mostly watched Steve.

"So, how much of our conversation did you hear?" Steve asked, setting his toothbrush on the sink.

"What? I didn't hear anything. Were you guys talking about something?" He asked.

"Seriously?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't hear anything that you guys didn't want me to hear," Eddie said.

"I don't think you're the kind of guy who would spill the beans on us," Robin said. "At least, I hope not so you don't have to deny anything."

"Ooh, lip gloss," Steve plucked it out of Eddie's hand. "May I?"

"Yeah, I thought it was lip balm," Eddie frowned. "So, have you always known that you liked guys?"

"Not just guys, girls too," Steve said as he started applying the lip gloss to his pouty lips. "I'm bisexual."

"Did you always know you were bisexual?" Eddie asked as he watched Steve’s lips intently.

"Well, yes and no," Steve said. "It was more like a slow build-up to my realization. Like more and more evidence started piling up that I could no longer deny."

"So, it wasn't like you looked at someone one day and realized 'shit, I'm into dudes, now?" Eddie asked as his eyes raked over the swell of his ass.

"It's always kind of been there. Why?" Steve asked as he closed the lip gloss.

"No reason," Eddie blushed, looking at his shoes.

"Oh my god!" Robin exclaimed. "You woke him up."

"What?" Steve asked.

"You woke him up!" Robin exclaimed, and Eddie quickly hid behind his hair.

"It's the outfit!" Eddie shrieked.

"So, what is it about the outfit that does it for you?" Steve asked.

"It's everything! The socks! The shorts that fill out your ass fantastically, by the way! And the shirt with the red bow tie in front," Eddie said. "It's just the whole fucking outfit."

"You should see me in the hat," Steve said in amusement.

Suddenly, Dustin and Erica burst into the bathroom before Steve could say anything else.

"There you are!" Dustin shrieked.

"Hey, could you give us a minute?" Steve asked Robin.

Robin quickly started ushering the kids out of the bathroom.

"But, Steve?!" Dustin asked.

"Out!" Robin yelled and shut the door behind them.

"I like you and as badly as I want to kiss you right now. . . I don't want it to be after I vomited in a bathroom. Plus, you still need to figure things out. If you still want me a few days from now. Call me. I have to deal with these kids I babysit. So go home and think things over," Steve said softly.

There was something that Steve wasn't telling him, but Eddie knew that he was also right. Besides, it was late. Steve placed his hands on Eddie's shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. It felt much like Steve was promising him something. Steve pulled away and started moving toward the door.

"Hey, Steve?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm definitely going to call you," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and walked out of the bathroom, leaving them both with hope for the future.

[nmakii]

RANT TO ME, I LIKE THE SOUND…

— charlie + angel + alastor talking about their day, completely absorbed when they look at you, completely smitten

— masc!reader (angel)

— charlie

“and then, he kicked me out of the room! can you fucking believe him?!” charlie grumbled, ranting about her meeting with adam as you brushed her hair. “i swear… i’ll go to heaven and i’ll make them listen” she sighed determinedly.

“and… after that—“ charlie wandered off again, thoughts interrupted when she no longer felt the bristles against her hair and instead, you face on her shoulder, hugging her waist from behind.

“oh… are you tired? i..i’m sorry if i was talking too much…” she awkwardly laughed. “no, don’t apologize, babe… keep talking, i like the sound.” you sighed as you kissed her on the cheek.

charlie’s heart tightened at what you had said. you like to listen to her ranting… you’ll have no idea how much it means to her; for you to not dismiss her ramblings, but instead listen closely.

“are you sure you’re not tired though?” she asked one last time. “nuh-uh, i’m wide awake, see?” you said before tickling her at the back of her neck, her ticklish spot.

“agh! noo, i believe you!” charlie screamed out, trying to get herself free from your grip around her waist. “stop! i believe you, no more!!” she cried out as you laughed, stopping your antics.

— angel

“today, val was a complete dickhead, i swear…” angel frowned, hugging fat nuggets in his top two arms and hugging you in his lower two. “today, he had me filming a bunch’a back shots while getting my hair pulled…” he sighed grimly, pulling you closer as your hands moved to his hair, carefully massaging it.

“are you okay?” you asked worriedly. “‘course i am, you’re here” angel grinned sappily. “afta’ that, cherri and i went drinking at that new club. i didn’t have buy any drugs today, i spent all my money on shots…”

“i’m proud of you, babe. you’re getting better.” you smiled, looking at him lovingly. “ya really think so?” he asked hopefully. “i know so. you’re already doing so well.” you ran your thumb against his cheek.

angel’s shoulders relaxed under your touch as he buried himself deeper in your touch. “love ya so much, babe.” angel smiled, eyes growing heavy.

“i love you too, angie. keep talking if you wanna, i like your pretty mouth.” you said, pulling him closer as you kissed his head.

— alastor

“so, then i headed to the tailor’s… they fixed my coat and when i came out, eugh…” alastor groaned in disgust, telling you about today as he sat by the fireplace in the hotel den. “vox was on various of those picture boxes, singing about how i am ‘outdated’.”

“and, as per expected, his modern technology failed and caused a blackout across the city!” he chuckled to himself. “you don’t think i’m outdated, do you, love?” alastor looked up, seeing you on the sofa as you stare at him, listening to his words intently.

“dear? are you even listening?” he smugly grinned. “of course i am…” you frowned. “i’m just… admiring you, i guess.”

“oh, are you now?” he sighed at your little lovey-dovey habits. “yeah… i like your voice, it’s soothing…” you blushed. “you find my voice comforting?” he asked. “how interesting, perhaps i’ll decide to ramble to you more often.” he grinned, closing his book.

he got up from his seat and over to you as he pulled you close by your shoulder. “now, back to my question— you don’t think i am outdated, do you?” he raised an eyebrow. “of course not…” you said. “hmph, good.” he nodded as he laid your head on him.

[luveline]

omg I just saw your post about Steve where you asked which Steve we wanted. I'm missing KBD Steve so bad rn. Anything like a family movie night would really just heal my soul rn! (love your writings so much btw)

ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 1k

“Did you play guitar?” 

Steve slinks further down into the corner of the couch, Avery too big but exactly where she’s meant to be in his lap. She’s affectionate from years of the world's most ridiculous parents, he assumes, so he could have Avery sit beside him rather than on top of him, but why bother? She’s gentle about how she sits despite her long limbs, swinging one arm behind his neck as she gets comfortable against his chest. 

“Did I what?” Steve asks. 

“Play guitar?” She points at the TV. “Uncle Eddie plays guitar.” 

“I can play a little bit, nothing like Uncle Eddie,” he says. “Just enough to serenade mom. I’d sing her all her favourites.” 

“So you had a guitar? Where did it go?” 

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe in the attic? There’s not room for all our stuff sometimes, so me and mom box it up and put it up there.” He looks at her knowingly. “Why, do you wanna try?” 

“Can I?” she asks. 

“Not tonight, but tomorrow? Is that okay? I’ll have to get the ladder from the garage, and we’re gonna watch a movie soon.” 

Avery’s pretty easy, as kids go. When Steve says tomorrow she doesn’t whine. In fact, she gives him a grateful, shining smile, the arm that’s laid across the front of him curling tighter as she presses her face into his neck. “Thanks, daddy.” 

He thinks that it’s because he’d guessed what she wanted. But that’s his job, to understand her and make her happy. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he loves her and he’s feeling quite loved up by her hugging and the feeling of her hair under his chin, he drops his voice into some rare parentese for her, “I bet you’ll be great at it. It takes some patience, but you have so much of it, and then you can play anything.” 

She giggles. “Like the song from The Neverending Story?” 

Steve’s heard enough of that song to last him a lifetime. “What about that song you and mom like? Have you seen her?” He’s tempted to sing it, and he figures it won’t hurt under his breath, “So fine and pretty, fooled me with her style and ease–”

Dove interrupts with a laugh as she tries to join in. The words escape her, but her passion makes up for it. She climbs up from her seat across the couch, sending the jellybeans she’d been holding in the lap of her nightgown careening across the living room floor. 

“Dove!” Avery says. 

“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” you say, standing just in front of the doorway with a towel around your shoulders. 

Steve hadn’t known you were there, you were gone so long for your shower he honestly forgot what you were doing. He groans as Dove drops her face into his jaw, what a disaster, but she doesn’t cry so he brushes it off while you clean up.

“Dove’s gonna help,” Steve insists. “Aren’t you, babe? Ow. You’re gonna help mom pick up your jellybeans. Ow, baby, don’t step on me.” 

“No,” Dove says with a giggle. “Sing again, daddy.” 

Beth jumps in behind you in fresh pyjamas, her hair damp and water wetting the neck of her t-shirt. That’s why you’d taken so long —your shower had been commandeered. It’s nice to see you both in some comfy pyjamas, better to see his lovely Beth feeling better. She’d been sick for so long it was starting to make him depressed; seeing her invigorated after a good shower and chasing down jellybeans with a mischievous smile makes his night. “I got them!” she says. “I got them, mom. There’s like, seven.” 

You hold out your hand. “Thank you. I think you got all of them.” 

Steve misses the rest of your conversation, a chubby palm smushed to his nose that he attempts to throw off. Avery giggles at his misfortune as Dove says, “Sing! Sing!” 

“I can’t sing, I can’t breathe,” he says. 

Dove pulls her hand back. She’s as close to rolling her eyes as she can get. “Sing.” 

“Now I can’t, Dove, you’re making me shy.” 

“Dad!” 

“You sing,” he suggests, leaning back, shielding Avery from her younger sister’s volatility with his arms. 

“We’re gonna sing so much.” You beam as you unveil the VHS tape for tonight’s movie. In time, your three girls gasp aloud. “Daddy’s favourite movie, the Little Mermaid!” 

“It’s not my favourite movie. That movie is my enemy. It makes all my babies cry.” Even Dove ends up in tears, though she usually cries when Ariel’s upset, rather than during Part of That World like her sisters do. 

“It makes you cry,” Beth says. 

“Beth, do we have a problem?” he asks. “Are you trying to get into a fight with me?” 

Beth grins and runs across the rug to climb up on the couch where Steve’s being submerged. She sits down by Doves’s feet, wrapping her arms around Dove’s little tummy, squishing herself to Steve’s side. “No, dad. I love you.” 

“I don’t believe you. I think you know you’ll lose if we wrestle.” 

You snort. Steve steals a glance at you between all the little arms, your hip pressed to the TV stand, your lip between your teeth as you click the wrong button. It’s not like you’re stupid, just the TV is old, and half the buttons don’t do what it is they say they do anymore. Your nose wrinkles and you backtrack, and Steve wishes he was standing right there to smooth it over with his thumb. After a few seconds of searching (and harassment on his end, Dove’s fingers dangerously close to his ear) you click the right thing and the tape that the girls were watching before dinner pops out. 

You smile to yourself at a job well done. Steve smiles at you, though you don’t see him doing it. 

“Your moms kinda pretty, huh?” he asks Avery. 

“Not kinda, super.” 

“How’s the baby?” you ask. 

Steve gives the baby monitor on the table by the couch a tap with his finger to make sure it’s still on. Feedback whines. “She’s hasn’t made a peep since your shower, honey.” 

“Maybe I’ll go see if she’s okay before the movie comes on. Miss the previews.” 

He can’t wait for you to sit down. “Okie dokie. Give her a kiss for me.” 

You raise your hand in scout’s honour. As you’re walking up the stairs, Avery shifts in Steve’s lap and asks, “You smile at mom all the time, does it make your cheeks hurt?” 

He sews a hand behind Beth’s back. “Nope. I have strong cheek muscles.” 

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 1

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The first time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on set, with lots of paint involved.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1k

Tag List: let me know if you want to join! :)​

Author’s Note: This is part 1 of what I hope will be a six-part series, but it can be read as a stand-alone too. I am so obsessed with Colt right now that I can't even see straight, so just take this and do whatever you want with it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The first time Colt Seavers almost kisses you, you’re not sure it actually happened.

You’ve been on set for about two months now, and your job as set decorator for the biggest action thriller of the decade has ended up being way more challenging than you expected. Every day, it’s a new demand from the director — more realistic graffiti, more subtle light fixtures, more beat-up furniture. It’s going to look amazing, but you’re exhausted just thinking about another day of smearing grime on the set walls by hand.

The one bright spot of every day is Colt Seavers. He’s the best stuntman in Hollywood, so naturally he’s been recruited to perform stunts for almost every scene in the movie. Watching him get thrown against walls, riddled with bullets, and dropped from dizzying heights is heart-pounding for you, but nothing gets your heart pounding as hard as when he leans a little too close to you, so close you can see the dusty brown of his eyelashes against his soot-stained skin.

“Nice sign,” Colt quips, dropping onto the picnic table seat next to you. You’re hand-painting a bright-red Do Not Disturb sign for the next scene, and you barely manage to keep from smearing the paint when you whirl to face him. “Is it for your trailer door?”

You give him a mock glare, laughter slipping through the edges. “Very funny. It just so happens that you’ll be kicking this sign in half in tomorrow’s scene, so show a little respect.”

Colt’s eyes sparkle at your words, all his attention focused on you. He leans forward on one elbow, the other reaching up to ruffle the dust out of his hair. “Wow, a handmade prop just for me to kick in half?” He grins, inclining his head in a mock bow. “I’m honored.”

You can’t hide your return grin, or the blush rising under your skin at his close proximity. Colt always has this effect on you — never pushing the limits to make you uncomfortable, just taking up space with you in a way that steals your breath.

“What’s this?” you ask, using your free hand to tug on the shoulder of his fireproof vest. One side is seriously singed, close enough to his skin to set you to worrying.

Colt shrugs, flashing you a crooked smile that makes his left eye crinkle. “Little pyrotechnics mishap,” he informs you casually, brushing imaginary dust off his arm and onto you. You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Ray got a little overexcited with the stun grenades.”

“What?” You can’t keep the concern from slipping into your voice, even though you try to disguise it behind a joking tone. “You’re working with real stun grenades now?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, as if it should be obvious. “It’s only a stunt if it’s real, you know?”

You narrow your eyes, cocking your head to one side. “I think that’s the opposite of how it works, actually.”

Colt just laughs at that, the golden rays of the setting sun turning his tanned skin golden. His smile is warm and directed entirely at you, heating up the blush in your cheeks again. You turn your eyes back to your painting to keep from completely giving yourself away.

These past few months have been both paradise and torture for you. You thought you could hide your crush easily enough — it’s not like you haven’t done that before. But with Colt, it’s different. He sees through your stoic facades and teases out your laughter, searches for ways to make you smile even on your bad days. Whether it’s pulling a goofy face at you from his rig or remembering that you like sour cream in your soup, Colt has found some new way to surprise you every day that you’ve known him.

The thing is, you’re not sure if he’s actually interested in you or just being flirtatious. Misinterpreting the signals would be awkward and painful for you at this point, so you’ve decided that he’s just going to have to make the first move. You’re too old to play middle-school games with him.

Even if he does give you middle-school butterflies all over again.

You don’t realize that you’ve been lost in your thoughts until you notice that Colt has imperceptibly moved closer to your side, peering over your shoulder as you put the finishing touches on the purposely-sloppy sign.

“So I kick the sign in half tomorrow,” he says softly, his husky voice in your ear sending goosebumps over your skin. “What happens if we have to do another take?”

You risk a glance over your shoulder at him, letting a coy smile slip. “Do you really think this is the only one I’ve done?”

Colt just lifts his eyebrows at you and smiles, returning his eyes to the sign in your hands. Colt has a way of burning you up just with his gaze, and you can’t help breathing an inner sigh of relief every time he focuses his attention elsewhere. Concentrating on anything when he’s looking at you is impossible.

“You know, I could definitely give you some pointers on set design sometime,” he mutters, as if he’s genuinely musing on the thought. You know he’s warming up for a joke, so you let him continue, hiding your smile while he watches over your shoulder. “I have tons of experience in your department.”

“Oh, really?” You grab your black paint and begin the focused task of sprinkling the sign with the darker color for a realistic touch. Realism is the key to making memorable set designs, and you’ve mastered the technique.

“Mm-hmm.” You feel the murmur reverberate in his throat when he leans forward, resting his chin on your shoulder while you lightly dab your paintbrush in your paint bottle. Your heart skips at least three beats when you feel his hair tickling the side of your neck, his eyes still locked on the sign as if he’s studying it. Does he really not know what he’s doing to you, or is he doing it on purpose?

You try to keep your hands steady while you feel his chest rise and fall against your shoulder. Struggling to hide the tremor in your voice, you tease, “What could I improve about this piece, then? I can always use an expert opinion.”

He tilts his head to the side, his chin still resting on your shoulder. You can feel the bristly stubble on his cheeks now. It’s an oddly comforting sensation, one that forces every bit of your self-control to the brink in order to keep yourself from moving your face to the side and nuzzling your cheek against his. You feel his face move slightly as his mouth turns up into a smile.

“If you really want some advice…” he begins, lifting one hand up to trace the edge of your sign.

“Careful,” you warn him, “that’s wet paint.”

Colt doesn’t even get close to smudging your paint, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting your free hand to rest on his wrist, holding it in place while you set your paint bottle down. Colt stills at your touch, and your heart accelerates again at the gentle way his fingertips rest on the edge of your sign.

He lets the moment hang in the air between you for a moment, then comments, “I was just going to suggest a nice artist’s signature. See this big gap right here between Not and Disturb? Your name should go there in big red letters.” You’re already swatting his hand away playfully as his serious tone devolves into snickers. “Just like Bob Ross does on TV.”

“You are so ridiculous,” you laugh, glad to feel the tension slipping out of the atmosphere. Colt lifts his chin off your shoulder now, his hair brushing your earlobe as he does.

“No, it would look perfect,” he insists, his eyes sparkling as his smirk widens. “And then I can aim right for your name when I kick it in half tomorrow.”

He laughs out loud when you slam the sign down on the picnic table surface in mock irritation, your grin making your amusement at his joke obvious. The slam sends a few drops of the black paint from your brush flying up, spattering your jawline.

You reach for a dry rag nearby, still grinning as you prepare to respond, but Colt stops you with a hand on your arm. “Allow me,” he says seriously, placing your hand back into your lap and raising his other hand to the side of your face. You freeze in place, unprepared for the wave of emotion that washes over you when Colt touches the side of your jaw softly.

His eyes are still sparkling with humor, and you know he’s about to do something to make you laugh, but you can’t help the feeling that sweeps through your heart when you’re face to face with him, one of his hands holding yours on your lap and the other just beginning to cradle your face. It feels so gentle, so intimate, so right, and your heart aches as you realize that there is no going back from the feelings you’re developing for Colt Seavers.

He hesitates for a split second, his hand hoving on your jaw for practically no time at all, but it feels like a lifetime to you. You watch his dark blue eyes as they dart down to look at your lips, flitting back up just as quickly to latch onto your eyes with a stare that could melt diamonds.

Then the corner of his mouth turns up again into his usual smirk, and he strokes his thumb across your jaw to smear the black paint up the side of your face.

“Now,” he offers, “don’t you think you look more realistic?”

He dissolves into laughter as you reach up and feel the streaks of black now smudged across your face. You immediately reach past him to dip your fingers in your bottle of red paint, giving him a mischievous grin as you slather three fingers’ worth of paint across his nose and cheeks. The combination of his semi-shocked expression and the ridiculousness of his painted face pushes you over the edge into another fit of laughter.

“You’re the one who will be on camera,” you retort, smiling wider than you can remember doing in a long time. “Shouldn’t you be the one who’s realistic?”

“Touché,” he acknowledges playfully, rubbing his face and only succeeded in smearing the red paint further across his face. “Though I doubt Tom Ryder is going to accept any glimpses of my face on camera, so I won’t even have to wash this off.”

You impulsively reach up and drag your fingertip through the splotch of paint on his cheek, resisting the urge to draw a heart and settling on a simple smiley face instead. His own smile resurfaces at that, eyes twinkling as they stay locked on yours.

“If you keep it until tomorrow, you’ll match my sign,” you muse, trying to lighten the atmosphere, which has suddenly grown a bit more intense now that Colt’s gaze is focused on you again.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t play it off, doesn’t do anything that you expect from him. His breathing seems to slow down, while yours feels like it takes off in a flurry of movement. Colt doesn’t make a move to touch you, but you can feel the distance between the two of you closing infinitesimally.

You’ve never noticed the flecks of silver-gray in his eyes, or the almost-invisible smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, or the ragged cut of his hair right beside his ears. Even the brilliant red streak only serves to bring out the golden tones of his skin, the swirls of blonde in his hair. Every detail of his face seems vivid, as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

His eyes seem to drink you in, too, traveling over every inch of your face before stopping on your lips again. This time, though, he doesn’t flick his eyes back up. Words escape you, as do any coherent thoughts. This is it. He’s actually going to kiss me. This is real.

“Seavers, on set, ASAP.”

The squawk of his walkie-talkie shatters the intense moment, and both of you release a breath that felt like it had been held for an hour. Colt swallows, smoothes his hand over his beard, turns to slip the walkie back into his pocket. You turn back to your painted sign quickly, trying to regain some composure.

Uncharacteristically, Colt doesn’t speak as he stands and turns to walk back to the filming set. He does, however, glance back at you the moment you lift your eyes to watch him walk away. Your heart is still hammering, recovering from his closeness to you.

With a wordless smile, he reaches up, swipes a bit of red paint off his face, and presses it onto the tip of your nose in the shape of his fingerprint. Then he walks away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Part 2

[zepskies]

Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile. 

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied. 

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest. 

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out. 

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go. 

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism. 

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting. 

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile. 

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.” 

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own. 

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given. 

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool. 

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room. 

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him. 

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through. 

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door. 

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said. 

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.) 

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already. 

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night. 

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness. 

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family. 

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before. 

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public. 

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door. 

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled. 

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag. 

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile. 

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool. 

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said. 

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool. 

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.  

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks. 

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow. 

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said. 

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand. 

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you. 

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about. 

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.” 

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man. 

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding. 

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage. 

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention. 

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt. 

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.” 

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off. 

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered. 

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck. 

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear. 

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm. 

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family. 

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm. 

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go. 

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth. 

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms. 

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him. 

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning. 

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed. 

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing. 

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment. 

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile. 

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours. 

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry. 

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked. 

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you. 

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand. 

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.” 

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said. 

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. 

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself. 

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said. 

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled. 

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake  to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror. 

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement. 

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind. 

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly. 

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while. 

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche. 

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind. 

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked. 

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks. 

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him. 

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast. 

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex. 

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now. 

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead. 

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water. 

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.   

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts. 

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was. 

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand. 

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body. 

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit. 

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone. 

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him. 

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls. 

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss. 

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked. 

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever. 

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss. 

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light. 

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow. 

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone. 

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job. 

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started. 

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

Want to read this in podfic form? (Note: A "podcast" fic is a narrated version by my lovely friend Sandra, one of the hosts of the Idling in the Impala SPN podcast.)

🎙️ Listen to the episode by clicking the thumbnail below:

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[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Wrong Cunningham

Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.

His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.

Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.

But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.

~~~~

Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.

"You have a beautiful voice."

Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.

"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.

"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked

"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said

"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.

"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.

"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.

If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?

"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.

Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.

"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped

Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.

"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.

~

Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.

Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.

~~~

Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.

"Hey, Y/N"

"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.

"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.

"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."

Y/N felt her excitement building again.

"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.

"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.

"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.

~

Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.

"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.

"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.

~

Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.

Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.

When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.

"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?

"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."

"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.

"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.

"What did I do?"

"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.

"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.

~

Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.

"Eddie?"

"Can we talk?"

Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.

"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked

"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.

"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.

"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.

"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.

"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.

"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."

"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.

"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."

Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.

"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.

"Right now?" Eddie choked out

She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.

"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.

"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed

"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself

"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.

Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.

Tags!

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