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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

Note

Hey! So I had this Hurt comfort fic idea with Charles where she is engaged to him. Have you seen the video about the crowd in Montreal surrounding him? So something like them arriving and he's signing and clicking pics through the crowd holding her hand and the crowd and paps goes a bit haywire and she is separated and then visibly very hurt and injured because of that. And Charles is angry and protective, with the "Idc about myself but if anyone touches/hurts you I lose it" or something similar. Add drama and spice as you feel

Thank you Babe ❤️

A Step Too Far || CL16

Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut WC: 1.9k

Charles could remember the first time he met your father. Obviously it wasn’t the first first time but it was the first time as your boyfriend, and that made it more important than any of the times they met in the paddock. Toto had gripped his hand tightly as they shook, pulling the younger driver closer to whisper in his ear.

“That’s my daughter, Charles, you put her above all else. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m trusting you here.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll keep her safe.”

“What did he say?” you asked as you left for your date.

“Nothing, ma chérie,” Charles assured you with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.

For three years he had kept that secret promise religiously, even as his popularity grew beyond his wildest expectations. He couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised, crowds gathering and people asking for photos or signatures. It wasn’t exactly new for you having grown up the way you did, but Charles’ fans were far more excitable and passionate than the ones who met your father.

Monza 2023

Everywhere you looked it was a sea of red supporters, the tifosi out in force to celebrate the third and fourth places Ferrari had taken in the race. You could see the equal parts of pride and disappointment on Charles’ face as he watched Carlos take the third step on the podium.

After heading back to his driver room, he collapsed into a chair with a groan and hung his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, wrinkling your nose at the sweat that dampened his dark hair. “That was a hell of a fight, baby.”

His grunt told you he thought otherwise but he placed his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze. “I almost had it, amour.”

“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck until his shoulders bunched up and he wriggled with a laugh at his ticklish spot.

“Okay, okay, no more moping,” he said as he stood up and turned to face you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You held up your hand that had a sparkly new ring resting upon it. “Or I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“I’m very glad you did.” He smiled as he took your hand and kissed the engagement ring. “I need to shower. There’s room for one more…”

Charles kept you tucked close to his side as he made his way through the lines of fans to where his car was pulling up. You were running late once again, after being distracted while you were meant to be getting dressed to go out for dinner. He left your side for only a moment to open your door but that moment was all it took as the metal barriers separating the crowd came crashing down and they surged forward.

The sight and the sound gave you a fright and you stepped back instinctively. “Charles!” He turned at your panicked tone and watched with horror as your heeled foot missed the curb, twisting painfully as you fell. For a second he lost sight of you in the sea of red and he was spurred into action.

“Back up! Get out of my way!” he shouted to the crowd as he pushed his way to you. Rage filled him as he found you crumpled beside his car, arms wrapped protectively around your head while the bodies finally started to give you room. Tears blurred your vision as pain radiated from your ankle and suddenly you were weightless as a familiar pair of arms picked you up. “Amour, are you hurt?”

You could hardly hear him as the crowd demanded his attention, screaming as they waved hats and posters in his direction. The look he sent them should have been warning enough but they were too high on his presence to notice.

“Amour?”

“My ankle,” you admitted with a wince as it was jostled.

He released a torrent of expletives under his breath as he carried you to the driver’s seat and climbed in with you on his lap, your legs hanging over onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he kissed your temple and pulled out of the hotel.

“It’s not your fault, Charles, I should have been paying more attention.”

“You got hurt because of me, that’s the only reason they were there. Shit.” His eyes darted to the centre screen as it announced an incoming call from Toto and he hit the accept button on the steering wheel.

“You haven’t lost your watch again, have you?” Toto greeted, his voice thick with amusement.

“We are almost there,” he replied as he turned onto the street where the restaurant reservation was booked. “We just ran into some trouble with some fans.”

The silence was deafening until it was broken by the scratch of a chair being pushed back on a wooden floor followed by the click of your father’s footsteps. “Trouble?”

You watched the door to the restaurant open and your father ignored the concierge as he stepped to the curb Charles was pulling up to. “This should be fun.” Charles grimaced at your words and ended the call as Toto tucked his phone away and opened the passenger door.

Toto stared at the empty seat before dragging his eyes across the space to find you on your fiancé’s lap. “Hi papa.”

“Don’t hi me,” he tutted as he walked around and moved the valet along with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you assured him as you accepted his hand out of the sports car. “You two are as dramatic as each other.”

The flare of pain was sudden and impossible to hide when your shoe touched the pavement, the joint weakly giving underneath you. If not for Charles behind you it would have been much worse but he took your weight and kept you upright.

“What the fuck have you done to my daughter, Leclerc?” You found yourself in a tug of war, but you were the rope. Your father tried to pull you out of his arms but your yelp of pain froze the very air. He relinquished his fight and raised his hands before pointing a damning finger at Charles. “Hospital, now.”

“But I’m hungry,” you whined as he instantly moved to follow the order, stepping back towards the Ferrari. “Can’t we go after dinner, please?”

You turned your pleading eyes to your father and watched his resolve weaken.

“No,” Charles interrupted before Toto could agree and you turned to him with a look of betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, amour. I can’t bear to see you in pain, especially when it’s my fault.”

“At least you take ownership,” Toto muttered. “Susie and I will bring you dinner. Go.”

There was no room to argue, not that Charles would. He respected your father too much for that.

“You need to make a statement,” Toto said tiredly as he sat in the hospital chair opposite Charles. You were on the bed separating them, enjoying the lack of pain while the drugs did their job and waiting for the moonboot to be fitted. “Something like this cannot be allowed to happen again.”

“He didn’t exactly give them permission, papa.”

Charles cut you a look out the corner of his eye before nodding to Toto. “I’ll make sure of it, sir. It might be time to hire some security.”

Your father barely hid his scoff as he muttered, “Better late than never.” Toto sat up straighter and rubbed his tired eyes. “These are things you will need to think about even more in the future, especially when you have children of your own - you’ll realise you can’t wait until something bad happens before making changes. You need to start thinking about the future now, son.”

Charles’ stare turned out the window as he took the advice seriously. You could see the contemplation set in hard lines across his face. The look turned sad when the nurse arrived with the moonboot you would need to wear for at least two weeks and he started to withdraw into himself as he pulled his phone out. Only a few moments later you saw your phone light up with a notification that he had posted to his Instagram.

“Good man,” Toto said as he read the statement that in no uncertain terms warned his fans there would be consequences if they couldn’t respect the boundaries set.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” they both answered adamantly.

“You are all set to go, darling,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “Rest up, and if there are any concerns just come right back.”

After thanking her you hobbled along, sandwiched between your father and fiancé, to the underground car park where the car was waiting.

“I’ll come back to your hotel, make sure you get inside safely,” your father said as he opened your door and kissed your cheek.

“His fans have probably all run away by now.”

“I think you’re underestimating the tifosi. I’d rather not take the risk.”

Toto was right, because if anything there were even more fans lining the entrance to the hotel than before. Only this time there was also more security.

You were quickly ushered through to the quieter reception area where Toto shared a look that said ‘I told you so’ before bidding a goodnight and heading his own way back. The elevator ride to the penthouse suite was silent and it wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. It grew heavier with each level and you were itching to get out of the confined space by the time the doors opened.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as Charles pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I broke my promise,” he said as his shoulders sagged further, like he was moments from imploding on himself. “I swore to your father I would protect you.”

“Charles, I love you, but you can’t protect me from the world - no matter what my father thinks.” You crawled over the duvet and onto his lap so you could cup his face. “I don’t blame you and it is me who is going to be marrying you, not him.”

His brows pinched together. “I hadn’t even thought about children.”

“What?”

“After the wedding, having children - what that would be like in this environment. I hadn’t thought about it. I obviously knew it’s what I wanted for us down the line but now…it’s a little scary to think what might happen to them.”

“Char, there’s no rush. We don’t know what our future will look like in five years, or ten.” You stroked his cheeks and dipped your head forward to kiss his pouting lips. “Just focus on the here and now, baby. Forget what happened out there. In here, it’s just you and me, and a king sized bed that’s far too neatly made.”

“It is pretty neat.”

“So why don’t we mess it up?”

His eyes flicked to your legs draped over his, lingering on the bulky boot. “Amour?”

Your fingers were already running down his chest, reaching for the waistband of his trousers he had worn to dinner. “You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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kurokens · 23 days

Text

In The Middle | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 798

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: probably an overused prompt but idc sue me, i needed to write one of my own. im a sucker for misunderstanding. i haven't written anything in such a long time, it's been a while im sorry, satosugu have been on my mind for a while, and i needed to write something with them because i love them so fucking much. it's gonna be a series, so hopefully i dont disappear after one part lol... later on it might be specific on some insecurities bc i need it and i thought well let's just share it with the world and other who might need it. sorry for any mistakes T-T

not proof read

song rec: SHE'S - In The Middle

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: bad english not my first language, satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious (is that the right one?), insecure and self conscious reader

You've always told yourself you weren't the type to live with anyone, you liked your quiet and your peace. Alone in your little bubble, without a soul to disturb it. And yet, here you were awoken by your roomates lover quarrel in the room next door, for the hundredth time this week.

"Don't you love me anymore? Am I not enough for you?" a whiny voice whisper-screamed "Satoru, my love, it was a dream, it was all in your head." an exhausted voice replied

"So what?? It doesn't mean anything? Are my feelings not valid?" Gojo huffed.

"How are you so dramatic so early in the morning? Let's go back to sleep come here.", Geto carefully lifted the blanket so his boyfriend could go back exactly where he belonged, asleep and quiet in his arms.

Such occurences weren't new to you, you could even say there were your daily life, that's why you laughed hearing the bickering couple, and turned around in your bed to try and fall back asleep while their muffled voices could still be heard in the background. This was without counting on what part of their conversation your brain decided to pick up on next. "I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu.." Satoru sighed. "Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied. "I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on. "Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned.

Your heart shattered on the other side of the wall, now sitting against the headboard, an unstoppable flow of tears falling down your face. You were a bother? You thought the three of you were friends, shit, scratch that, best friends. And yet, yet, this was how they felt about you. Fuck fuck FUCK You needed to calm down, it's okay, you're okay. It must have been a nightmare, yeah that's right, a nightmare. Your brain loved playing tricks on you, waking you up in the middle of the night with the most vivid and realistic nightmares ever, enough to send you into full blown meltdown. Nothing to worry about, it was just a nightmare, nothing else. That's what you told yourself and yet when you woke up you couldnt shake this weird feeling in your stomach. You contemplated staying in your bed all day and avoid your roomates but that would be silly to ignore them for something that was potentially just a dream. So you shook the silly feelings away and got out of your bed, made your way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Your two roommates were already there, being lovey dovey in each others lap and the weird feeling made its way back into your stomach. "Hi there." You greeted tiredly, only to be met with an echo of short hms, and not even a nod to accompany the cold greeting. The lack of acknowledgment not helping with your already overthinking mind, you decided to take a quick breakfast and just leave them be. It could just be a coincidence, nothing to worry about haha, right? Or so you thought, because you were back in your room mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when you once again hear the muffled voices of your roommates. Your brain screamed at you to put your headphones on and drown out their conversation, but you couldn't get yourself to do it, and you decided to listen to them, to at least finally be able to know whether or not you dreamed what happened last night. And maybe you shouldn't have, but what else could you do now but listen to the cruel words of the ones you once considered your best friends. "Suguru, we need to do it soon. I can't even handle looking at them in the eyes anymore, let alone utter a word to them. We can't keep going like this." Satoru complained. "I know 'Toru, I know, but you need to understand it's not as easy as you think it is." You heard the black haired man answer. And it was enough for you, you needed to get out of there. You obviously were no longer welcomed here, and the sooner you left, the better it would be, for both parties. So inbetween tears you picked up a bag and threw some spare clothes and anything that you could think of in your frenzy state before you ran out of there, determined to never come back, at least not for a while. here u gooo!! sorry i've been away for a while, i've been finding it hard to write and staying focused, but i missed it so much, especially for these two. i'll try not to take too long to write AT LEAST a second part, but would love to do more than this bc i want it to be extremely slown burn and a little bit angsty krkrkr

#saturn's writing #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu poly #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x gojo satoru x reader

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darylsdelts · 2 months

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Hi! Could you write a Daryl x f.reader hc in the mornings? I feel like slow mornings would be Daryl's favorite time of day, just enjoying his partner without having to think about the day ahead..

P.S: how did you not start writing sooner?? I love how your pretty brain brings our delusions to life lol

I’m gonna do the smaller request’s first so that they don’t pile up because having loads of requests makes me anxious😭 idk why but I’m getting to em all!

Anon!!! I love this so much! I love domestic daddy Daryl so much like yes! Idc what anyone says, he’s sooooo husband! And alsooooo… TYSM! I’m not really a writer😭 I didn’t intend to actually write on here but people started sending full on essays for me to write so why not. I did write some stuff on Wattpad though that I could post here??? If y’all want??? Anywayyyyyssss ily!

I always imagine these sorta things with you and Daryl in a secluded cabin, away from the community. You’re still part of the group but you and Daryl prefer to be alone together.

Living away from the community, Daryl is like a different person, he’s way more relaxed and less on guard. Less irritated by people too.

The sunlight seeps through the cracks in the curtains in the early mornings.

Daryl usually wakes up first but if he doesn’t then you shift closer, resting your chin on his bare chest and admiring his sleeping face.

His hair framing his relaxed face, he looks younger when he’s sleeping, your favourite part is how his rounded nose twitches when he starts to wake up.

As soon as he opens his eyes, you feel his chest vibrate as he hums, bringing his hand up to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What’d I tell ya ‘bout starin’, Hm?”

His lips twitch upward, he fucking loves the mornings when it’s so peaceful and it’s just him and you, like the world doesn’t really exist.

“I think you told me to quit it”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb across your forehead.

Daryl thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, especially when your hair is messy from sleep and you’re in barely any clothes.

There’s no doubt that every morning, his mind drifts to thinking about staying in bed with you all day, worshipping your body and making you feel good.

And that fantasy is almost always thrown out the window when the both of you hear paws enter the room, dog jumping up on the bed, licking at Daryls face.

“Dog! Jesus chri-… yeah, okay okay, good boy”

After getting out of bed, Daryl pulling on just his jeans that sit low on his waist and you in a thin night dress, you both go to the kitchen area.

Daryl feeds dog so he stops whining and then he’ll cook up something he hunted and serve it to you.

You’re greatful for your hunterman, taking such good care of you.

Even after being together all these years, Daryl still gets shy, sitting opposite you whilst eating, barely able to make eye contact.

Some mornings, if it was hot enough, you’d go swim in the lake with dog whilst Daryl would watch over the both of you. He’s not greatly fond of swimming in the lake since he wouldn’t be able to protect you as well as he could from the side.

“Can we go to the lake?” You ask as Daryl takes your plates.

“Ya wanna? Ain’t so hot out today, darlin’”

“I wanna”

He’d roll his eyes, he could never say no to you.

He’d sit on the bank next to the lake, watching you in just your panties and bra, swimming around in the water with dog.

After you get out you’d complain that it’s too cold and he’d bite his tongue, he did tell you so.

He’d wrap you in a towel and leave you shivering whilst he towels dog off.

“Shouldn’ta let ya go in the damn water, yer gon’ get sick”

You’d pout as you shiver, Daryl wraps his arms round you, kissing the top of your hair.

“Let’s get ya inside, warm my girl up”

You have a feeling you know what he means.

This isn’t even really hc’s 😭 full on story I’m sorry but I always get so carried away.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #twd smut

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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR MATT BASED ON THE SONG HEARTBREAK GIRL BY 5SOS.

Idc how long it is (the longer the better)

pls pls pls I will sell my left foot to read it 🙏

Heartbreak Girl- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Taken!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: angst

warnings: pining, clueless reader, toxic relationship, jealousy, heartbreak, friendzone, slight cursing, use of y/n, unrequited love, mentions of cheating, panic attack, no happy ending (sorry, the song calls for it)

inspiration: request^^, Heartbreak Girl by 5SOS

summary: Matt’s in love with you, but you’re too in love with someone else to realize it.

Heartbreak Girl PT.1, PT.2

—

Matt’s phone rings loudly on his bedside table, waking him from his sleep. His eyes jolt open, the loud ringing scaring him. He knows who’s calling, but hopes it’s someone else this time so he can hang up without being eaten alive by the guilt. A sigh leaves his lips as he checks the caller ID, your name shining brightly on his phone screen. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he answers, “y/n?” Your sobs immediately fill the room as they emit from his phone speaker, he grimaces slightly at the loud noise and holds the phone away from his face.

It was always the same thing with you, you’d call him late at night complaining and crying about something your boyfriend, Mike, did. Matt would comfort you time and time again, advising you to just break up with that loser and sometimes you’d listen. You and Mike would break up, sometimes for as long as a week, but you’d always end up welcoming him back into you life at the slightest apology.

“What did he do this time?” Matt asks, another sigh leaving his mouth. He’s propped up on an elbow, his head hanging forward with his eyes shut as he tries fighting sleep. If you were anyone else he would’ve stopped picking up your calls a long time ago, but you’re his best friend and he feels a sense of responsibility for you. “First, he called me annoying and then we got in this big fight and then he left. He said he’s going back to his ex,” you hiccup, barely sounding coherent through your sobs.

Matt wants to scream into his pillow, was this not the same fight you had with Mike last week? “Well-” Matt begins, but is quickly interrupted by you. “He accused me of cheating too! Doesn’t he know I love him? I’d never cheat!” you exclaim through the phone, your words coming out a mile a minute.

Love. Matt cringed at the word, how could you possible love a guy who’s favorite pass time was making you cry.

Matt could tell you were entering a stare of hysteria, your breathing was erratic and you wouldn’t stop crying. “Alright, y/n. Try to calm down,” he whispers sternly, trying to bring you back to reality. With every late night phone call Matt gained more and more reasons to hate your stupid boyfriend. “Okay… I’m calm,” you reply, bringing your voice down and attempting to steady your breathing. He knows you’re faking it, but he appreciates that you’re at least trying.

“Okay, now telling me what happened,” he instructs, a part of him wanting to hear all the details of your argument so his hatred for your boyfriend would be more justified. You retold the events in excruciating detail, mentioning everything that was said and done. So much of it repulsed Matt, how could two people treat each other like that? He felt his heart breaking with each word, but the anger he felt was much stronger, “he really called you that?!”

Matt’s jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding against each other in the process. He heard your sniffles on the other side of the phone, a part of him wished he could just hold you. “Yeah, but he’s not that bad,” your voice was hushed, almost like you were afraid. You sounded scared to admit it, mostly because you knew Matt would get mad. You, of course, guess correctly because Matt replies angrily, “He’s not THAT bad?!?”

If he had any common sense he’d just hang the phone up now because there was obviously no getting through to you. But, a part of him is praying that one day you’ll realize what a loser Mike is and then maybe you’ll realize that he’s been here all along. “Well, I mean, it takes two to fight,” you reply in an attempt to defend your last statement. Matt rubs his temples, trying to massage his growing headache away.

“Y/n, stop being so naive,” he says harshly. At this point his anger has completely consumed him but he bites his tongue to stop the venom from spilling.

“Don’t be mean,” you mumble. There was no excuse for Mike’s behavior, not that you were much better, but you couldn’t let this become your forever. “I’m not being mean. I’m being real,” he replies, his voice softening a bit when he realizes how harsh his words sounded.

A brief silence settles in the conversation, but Matt can hear soft mumbling in the background. Matt assumes you’re talking but somehow the audio got muffled. “I can’t hear you,” he says, turning the volume up on his phone. The mumbling gets a little louder and then suddenly he hears it, it’s Mike. He must’ve come back once he cooled off, he’s sure to reel you back in with broken promises and empty apologies.

“Matt, I have to go. Mike is here,” you whisper into the phone, clearly scared to be caught venting your problems to your best friend. Mike, Mike, Mike. What was so special about Mike anyways? Sometimes, if Matt repeated the name enough it almost sounded like his own name. Matt, Matt, Matt. He wished it was.

He wants to beg you to stay on the phone, but he knows there’s no use. All he can do is advise you to choose better and hope that this time you’ll listen, “y/n, don’t do anything stupid.” There’s a lot of shuffling coming from your end, if Matt closes his eyes he can imagine every single movement. “Okay, bye friend. Love you,” you say quickly.

Friend. That is a word Matt will be reduced to for the rest of his life. He wants to be more than that with you, but a part of him knows that you two will be stuck going in circles again and again. You fight Mike, you break up, you cry to Matt, you make up with Mike, and Matt’s lost his chance with you yet another time.

Before he can reply he hears the phone click, you hung up. He knows that you’re probably already reconciling with Mike and even though it makes him mad, it mostly makes him feel helpless. Matt tosses his phone back onto his bedside table before dramatically falling back onto the bed. He knows that if you just opened your eyes you’d realize that he was here all along, that he’d never hurt you.

But, despite his better judgement, Matt will keep picking up your phone calls because he’s a sucker when it comes to you.

—

The sound of arcade games echo around the building as Matt and his brothers walk around the arcade in an attempt to find the perfect game. They only had a few tokens left, so they had to spend them wisely. You were there too, but you were so immersed in Mike’s presence that it was like you weren’t. Matt had invited you in hopes to finally get you alone, away from Mike. But, that stupid guy followed you like his life depended on it. You were so enthralled by Mike that you hadn’t even played a single game, even Nick and Chris found it annoying.

“What about ski ball?” Chris suggests, the three of them had lapped around the arcade a billion times and still couldn’t find the right game. “No,” Nick says, peering around the arcade for a better game. “Bumper cars?” Chris suggests again, running out of options to say. “We don’t even have enough tokens for that,” Matt scoffs, joining Nick as he looks around the room.

“Fine you pick,” Chris grumbles, leaning against the nearest game as he waits for his brothers to choose. As they’re surveying the room, Nick and Matt see you in the corner talking with your boyfriend. You two seemed to be caught up in an argument like usual, earning an eye roll from Nick. “I don’t know what she sees in that guy,” he comments, trying to read your lips to see what the argument is about. “I hate that guy,” Chris chimes in, joining his brothers in their watch party.

Matt hums in agreement, not wanting to say too much in regard to the situation. He can only assume that you did something Mike didn’t like and now you’re getting in trouble for it. The conversation seems to get heated enough for you to storm off, making your way towards the triplets. “Oh shhh- she’s coming, she’s coming,” Chris warns, trying to act casual.

Nick does the same, leaning against the machine closest to him. Matt’s eyes widen, all he can think to do is turn quickly on his heel to face his brothers. They immediately engage in a fake conversation in attempt to convince you that they weren’t watching. It seems to work.

“Ah yes, McDonalds does have the best chicken nuggets. Good point, Chris,” Nick says as he looks towards his brothers expectantly, but you’re so mad you don’t even notice the ridiculous conversation topic. “Guys you can have my tokens, I’m leaving,” you say, not even introducing yourself with a hello. You pull the tokens out of your pocket, dumping them all in Chris’s hands. He was so excited to have more tokens that he didn’t even care you were leaving.

“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, watching as you hurriedly try to get rid of all your tokens. “No, bro. Stupid Mike, dude. He got mad that I wanted to play so he brought up his ex again, can you believe that?” you scoff, still fishing for more tokens in your pockets. Why was every argument you had with Mike about his ex?

“Gross. Why are you leaving though? You haven’t played a single game,” Nick asks, taking a few tokens from Chris for himself. He and Chris also disliked your boyfriend because you two were always fighting about stupid stuff. But, they weren’t as involved in your love life as Matt was, so they didn’t know how often you two were actually fighting. “Cause he’s my ride and he said he’s leaving,” you grumble, finally looking up from your pockets to look at your friends.

“We can take you home,” Matt suggests, not wanting you to leave just yet. He says it so quickly and eagerly that his brothers give him a weird look, he catches it and coughs awkwardly. “I mean, if you want to stay,” he mumbles in an attempt not to seem so desperate.

You look between your friends and the arcade entrance, trying to decide whether you should stay or go. Matt bites his tongue, trying to prevent himself from saying something he’ll later regret. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and scream that you should just leave that stupid loser.

“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” you attempt to reason as you check your phone for the time. It was only 5pm, but your heart really wanted to follow Mike before he decided he was done with you for real. Upon checking the time, you see a message from Mike that made your stomach turn.

Mike: I left. have fun with your friends. we’re done.

Matt watches as your expression completely drops, you look like you just got the life sucked out of you. “Did he leave?” Matt asks softly, not trying to upset you more than you already were. You shove your phone into you pocket and put on a fake smile, ignoring his question. “It’s only 5, we got time,” you say excitedly, trying to pretend like you didn’t just receive the most heart breaking message ever.

Nick and Chris don’t know any better, so they immediately perk up at this and drag you back into the arcade. Matt, on the other hand, can read you like the back of his hand. He sees how your shoulders slump and how a frown replaces your smile when you think no one’s looking.

Throughout the whole night he wants to scream out, ‘you can be with me now!’ But he knows that you’re not ready, maybe you’ll never be ready. And that, to Matt, is so frustrating.

—

For the rest of the night the boys work towards distracting you from Mike. They use your tokens to win as many games as possible. Matt is focused primarily on convincing you you should leave Mike for good this time. He watches as you attempt to get the basketball into the net as he says, “I’m just saying, you’d be much happier without that guy.”

You fumble with the basketballs in front of you, missing each shot terribly, but welcoming the distraction from the conversation Matt was trying to have. He watches as you roll your eyes and continuing trying to play the game, “tell me one good thing he’s done.” This statement catches you off guard, you’re sure that Mike is a good guy, but for some reason you can’t think of a single good thing he’s done.

You scoff at Matt, throwing the last basketball at the net only for it to hit the rim and fall out. “He does a lot of good things,” you reply annoyed, watching as the machine disperses your tickets. All you earned from this game was 8 tickets considering you missed more than half the shots. “Okay, then name one,” he retorts, ready to challenge you whether you liked it or not. Your mind is racing trying to think of one good thing Mike has done that Matt would find valid, but you still can’t think of one.

Annoyed, you snatch the tickets from the machine, accidentally tearing the last one in half in the process. Matt watches you, noticing how the frustration seems to get the best of you. He knows you won’t be able to think of a single good thing Mike has done, especially not after he ditched you here to fend for yourself. “See, you can’t even think of one. He treats you so bad, y/n. You don’t deserve that, you deserve someone who’ll treat you right,” Matt says, the both of you walking in the direction where you last saw Nick and Chris.

“Oh yeah? Who would that someone be?” you retort, looking around the entire arcade in search of Nick and Chris. You desperately needed to find them so they could serve as a buffer between you and Matt right now. He was asking too many uncomfortable questions and honestly was starting to push your buttons, he doesn’t know Mike like you do. “I mean, I’ve always treated you right,” Matt’s reply is so bold that it even catches him by surprise, what the hell was he even saying right now? He knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak and the friendzone, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

You look at him briefly, a little shocked that he’d even say that. I mean, you two have been best friends for so long that a relationship with Matt would be like dating a brother. The thought is weird, but you don’t want to offend him, “yeah, but you’re my best friend. Friends are supposed to be nice to each other.” Each time you say friend it feels like a stab to the heart. He seemed to be stuck in the friendzone again and again.

“Y/n! Matt!” Nick calls out from the ticket machine, both he and Chris feeding their tickets into it. You perk up at the sight of them and walk over immediately You feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see them, finally you’ll be able to escape this awkward situation Matt put you in. Matt can’t help but feel sad, but he tries not to show it.

“We’re gonna get a remote control car!” Chris says excitedly, referring to the prize they were going to cash in for using all their tickets. Without another word he takes all yours and Matt’s tickets so he can feed them into the machine. You chuckle at this, finding it amusing.

Matt offers a small smile.

—

After redeeming your prizes, the four of you decided it was time to head home. You picked out a giant plushie while the three of them combined their tickets for Chris’s remote control car.

Matt pulled up to you house reluctantly, wishing he could kidnap you and take you to their house once he saw Mike’s car parked outside. “Mike’s home?” Chris asks you casually as soon as Matt places the car in park. “Yeah, guess so,” you reply as you unbuckle yourself, trying not to sound too excited. Deep down you were bubbling with emotions, mostly happiness because if Mike is home that means he’s definitely not done with your relationship.

“Bye guys, I had so much fun!” you dismiss yourself eagerly, all you want to do is go inside and reconcile with your boyfriend. Nick and Chris bid you goodbye but Matt stays silent, he doesn’t want you to leave. You hug Nick in the back seat and pat Chris’s shoulder as you open the car door. You offer Matt a small, awkward smile before grabbing your plushie and hopping out of the car.

Matt feels so defeated, if he weren’t such a pushover when it came to you he’d tell you the truth. The truth is that Mike is leading you on, playing with your feelings, abusing of emotions, and flaunting you around like a trophy when he feels like it. The truth is that Matt is in love with you and has been since the first time he saw you, but he’s too scared to ruin your friendship to admit it.

Matt watches as you walk up to your front door, plushie tucked under your arm. There’s an eager pep in your step that makes Matt want to throw up. Chris is scrolling through his phone, forgetting about you as soon as got off the car. Nick is watching Matt, confused as to why he looks so sad. “Are we gonna move? I’m fucking hungry, dude,” Chris groans from the passenger seat, throwing his head back dramatically against the car seat.

You were inside already, but Matt stayed outside your house and watched as the lights in your house turned on one by one. He knew you were searching the house like a madwoman for Mike. “Can you drive?!” Nick chimes in, grabbing Matt by the shoulder to break him from his daze. Matt’s eyes remain trained on your bedroom window, watching as the light turns on and your shadow comes into view as he responds, “yeah, sorry.”

He puts the car in drive, slowly letting the car roll down the street. Matt’s breath hitches as Mike’s shadow comes into view, he’s praying that you’ll just run out of the house and back into the car. The car is slowly rolling down the street, Matt’s foot hovering over the break in an attempt to slow the car down even more. Your shadow and Mike’s meet for a hug and soon enough you’re kissing. Matt’s foot slams on the break suddenly causing the car to jolt forward, he knew it was coming but it didn’t hurt any less.

“What the fuck Matt?!” Chris exclaims, looking up at Matt in bewilderment. The seatbelt was choking him slightly and his phone flew off his lap. Nick’s head hit the front seat headrest slightly, causing him to gasp in surprise. “Matt what the actual fuck are you doing?!” Nick yelled, meeting Matt’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

There was no way Matt was about to admit that he was watching you through your window. So, he made up the quickest lie he could think of, “Sorry. I got a cramp.” He offered both his brothers a fake smile in hopes that they’d believe his lie. It seemed to satisfy them seeing as they rolled their eyes and returned to their phones. Matt took his foot off the break, looking back at your house one last time.

The lights were off.

—

Matt doesn’t hear from you until two days later. You called him at 12pm, which was completely uncommon for you to do. You were usually calling him at 12am, breaking him from his deep sleep to rant about Mike.

“Hello?” Matt answers the phone immediately, if this is another call about Mike and his stupid actions he’s ready to be honest this time. “You busy?” You ask, propping the phone between your shoulder and your face so you can freely look through the racks of clothing in front of you.

Matt examines his surrounding, trying to decide whether he’s truly busy or not. He’s not. “Mmm not really. Why?” He asks, getting up from his spot on the couch and walking over to his room. He hears the metal hangers scraping against the clothings racks in the background before you reply, “wanted to see if you were down for lunch.”

This was the first time you’d asked him to hang out since dating Mike. He couldn’t fight the smile that grew on his face. “Just you and me or Nick and Chris too,” he needed to sound casual, but he was kicking himself for even mentioning Nick and Chris. What if you said yes to inviting them and his time alone with you turned into a group hangout?

“Up to you, I was hoping for it just to be us,” you reply, picking a shirt off the rack. You examine it carefully as you try imagining yourself in it. You decide you don’t like it and put it back. Matt is doing a silent happy dance on the other side of the phone, he feels like this is his chance to tell you the truth. Plus, you don’t seem to be upset with Mike which means that the conversation probably won’t revolve entirely around that loser.

Matt calms himself down, taking a deep breath before replying, “Cool yeah. Should I meet you somewhere?” He’s trying to act casual, but there is no such thing as casual for Matt when it involves you. “You can. Or I can pick you up?” You reply, walking out of the store and to your car. You walk the street cautiously, thanking the people who let you pass with a small hand wave. For you, this conversation really was normal. Just a friend asking another friend to go out to lunch.

For Matt, this conversation felt like the beginning of something new. A new relationship with you, a new attempt at admitting his feelings, even a new outlook on life. He felt positive. “Yeah that works. Are you close?” He has the biggest smile on his face as he looks through his closet for the perfect outfit.

“I’m like 10 minutes away,” you say mindlessly, pausing as you dig through your purse for your keys. “I’ll let you know when I’m there, okay? Love you, friend,” you finished saying once you found your keys and unlocking your car.

There was that word again. Friend. It made Matt shudder, but he tries ignoring it. He wasn’t going to let that sour his mood. “Alright, bye. Love you too,” he replies, but he means it. He intentionally doesn’t call you friend in hopes that you’ll take the hint.

All you do is hum in response and hang up. It breaks Matt’s heart, but he ignores it.

—

You pick Matt up, arriving to his house exactly 10 minutes later. The two of you decide on a restaurant, engaging in light conversation throughout your meal. Matt couldn’t find the courage to confess to you, especially not with the thought of Mike looming over him.

Matt felt incredibly anxious, his mind racing uncontrollably with all the possible outcomes of tonight. He could confess and it could go one of two ways, you could feel the same or you could reject him for Mike like all the times before. Or he could keep it to himself and remain in the friendzone forever.

The two of you are now walking back to your car, ready to call it a night. “Thanks for coming out with me,” you say with a smile as you hop into the drivers seat. Matt follows suit, getting into the passenger side before replying, “of course, anything for you.” The comment was simple, but it had so many underlying messages that he wished you’d pick up on. ‘Anything for you.’

You seem to pick up some sort of message because you reply with a chuckle, “you’re always saying sappy stuff like that Matt.” He gulps nervously, was this his chance? You start the car, the radio playing dully in the background. The noise replaces the previous silence, only adding to his own frustration, especially because he hated this song. He couldn’t decide whether to do it or not.

“I hate this song,” you mumble, changing the station to another song quickly. He takes this as a sign, a sign to just bite the bullet and spill it all. He needs to start off slow though, if he’s too abrasive it’ll scare you, “so, how are you and Mike doing?”

You two hadn’t spoken about Mike the entire night and for good reason too. The night you got back from the arcade he made a bunch of empty promises, adding in a bunch of fake apologies in between. You, of course, ended up forgiving him only for him to mess up again the next day. So, you decided you were finally done with him and broke up with him for good. Usually when you two would break up you’d allow him back into your life within hours, but this time you blocked him on everything and forced him to move out. Today was your first day as a truly single woman and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You were repulsed by men and decided you were going to be single for a while.

“We broke up actually,” you say calmly, making a long story short. Matt knew all the details of your previous arguments with Mike so there was no point in explaining the obvious. He’s in shock, actually in shock. This is the first time you’ve ‘broken’ up with Mike and weren’t completely hysterical about it.

“When did this happen?!”

You turn the corner onto Matt’s street, nearing his house slowly. “Yesterday morning. I kicked him out and he’s coming for the rest of his stuff tomorrow,” you say like it was the most normal thing ever. How were you so calm? So casual?

Mike moving out was the best news ever, that means that it’s real this time. “Wow. How are you?” he asks. He needs to test the waters before diving head first, especially if he’s going to confess something so important.

“I’m okay. Honestly, I’m not as sad as I thought I’d be. I’m just ready to be single,” you reply, placing the car in park in front of his house. He digests the information, trying to come to terms with the fact that you want to be single. “Right now I’m repulsed at the thought of men. I’m just so done crying over guys, you know? I’m ready to just hang out with my friends and be free.”

“I’m a man. Are you repulsed at the thought of me?” Matt asks in an attempt to make light of the information you just dumped on him. He’s trying not to freak out right now. “No, dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different,” you reply, the words cutting into Matt. Everything you just said felt like an insult.

The car is filled with an awkward silence, neither of you know what to say after that. The same song from earlier plays, the song you hate and suddenly it feels more like a bad omen to Matt. You cough in an attempt to break the tension, but Matt remains silent, he feels like he can’t breathe right now.

“Well I had fun today, Matt,” you finally say, unlocking the car so he can use it as an excuse to escape this situation. You don’t know why the conversation suddenly became so awkward, all you know is that this felt weird and you didn’t want to sit in it for longer than you had to.

“Me too,” he replies meekly, struggling to unbuckle himself. “Here let me help,” you offer, reaching towards his seat to help him with the buckle. It all becomes too much as he pushes your hand away, “stop. I got it.” You look at him in shock. What was his problem?

Before you can comment on his behavior, he opens the car door and stumbles out. He can’t seem to leave this situation fast enough. You watch in confusion as he walks into his house without another word. You are worried, but decide he’s just being dramatic and drive off.

Once he’s inside he feels the emotions intensify as he immediately collapses onto the floor. He’s out of breath and his head is ringing with the words you said, ‘No dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different.’ He’s hyperventilating at this point, the tears flowing uncontrollably down his face as heaves in an attempt to catch his breath.

Nick and Chris who were in the living room hear this and immediately bolt towards Matt. “Matt? What’s wrong?” Chris asks frantically, getting on his knees to be eye level with his brother. Matt doesn’t respond, instead he grabs onto his Chris and pulls him in for a hug and sobs into his shoulder. He’s desperate for comfort, but nothing seems like enough. Chris understands what his brother needs, holding him tightly in an attempt to console him.

“He’s having a panic attack, let’s take him to his room,” Nick says equally as frantic, squatting in front of his two brothers so he can rub Matt’s back. Chris and Nick attempt to pick Matt up, but he’s glued to the floor, still holding on to Chris for dear life.

“It’s okay buddy, I got you,” Chris says calmly, not wanting to escalate the situation any further. Matt continues to cry, allowing his brothers to comfort him. “Deep breaths, Matt. Deep breaths,” Chris instructs, pulling Matt off of him slightly so he can get it together. Matt nods his head, using all his will power to stop crying and focus on his breathing. Finally, he’s able to calm down and his sobbing is reduced to sniffles.

“Wanna talk about it?” Nick asks lovingly, sitting next to Matt on the floor and rubbing more circles onto his back. “No,” Matt replies, his voice hoarse from all the crying. He looks down at his hands and plays with his rings to occupy his mind. “That’s okay, we’re here for you when you’re ready,” Chris chimes in, taking a seat on the other side of Matt. He rests his head on Matt’s shoulder, patting his thigh to signify that he’s willing to sit here with him for as long as necessary.

“Thanks,” Matt replies sadly, resting his head against the wall behind him. He’s never felt as defeated as he does right now. He’s stuck in the friendzone again and again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Honestly such a great request, but I had to keep re-listening to the song to write a story as accurate as possible to it. That’s why there’s no happy ending because the song clearly states that he’s stuck in the friendzone again and again, but I’m willing to do a pt.2 with a happy ending or just a diff outcome. Hope you enjoy.

Also, I’ll be expecting the foot

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

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kuyurasu · 8 months

Text

Spider Lily

Dottore x Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Summary ; Soulmates are tied with their lifespan. After being sold to a man as a slave in sumeru, you forgot about the boy you had saved as a child. He didn't.

WC ; an obsene amount

Reading time ; depends.

Warnings ; a fuck ton. Porn with plot, p in v, mentions of rape and sodomy BUT NOT APPLIED or discussed in further chaps, trauma, severe abuse, slavery, suicidal thoughts, realistic healing, dark side of teyvat basically, heavy sexual content in the future, oral (m+w), praise, degradation, spanking, dom/sub, rough, soft, sweet, mean idc just being rabbits., so many more... don't be nervous, I'm just a little pinch of mentally insane.

... Haunting Adeline, anyone?

Authors note : Enjoy and sorry for being MIA, life fucking me hard-core in the ass. Also, I don't care who reads this. I'm not your fucking mom. I ain't gonna tell you what to read.

Perhaps it was a cruel fate that brought you to where you are now. Something messed up the fairytale, princess wonderland story you were supposed to be in. and somehow, you were here.

If you could curse the gods above, Celestia, and everything, you would. But physically, your tongue was tied. Incapable of muttering but a few words. It was a cruel world to be living in, and while others were blessed, you were in the dirt. Beneath all of them. A slave, they called you. Your own father sold you just so your mother couldn't save you, run away, or live without having a slave tattoo etched on your wrist.

Your father was a cruel man. Heartless, even. He didn't see anything wrong with abuse, it seemed, or treating his daughter or wife like cattle. He cut off the tip of your tongue when you screamed and fought with him as he sold your older brother, ultimately resulting in his death. He broke your bones and scarred your flesh beyond recognition. And then sold you away.

It was when you were 4 years old, though, that you first met the emotion of happiness. It was soft and warm. It started in the center of your chest and slowly spread out to your entire brain. It was definitely infected, yet so beautiful.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, your eyes softening at the little boy in front of you. He was dirty and breathing heavily, yet he was wearing nice Sumeru clothing. It made your heart ache that he was clearly better than you, and yet, your slightly shorter tongue couldn't stop itself from speaking to him. Your voice was shaky and raspy from years of silence.

The little boy did not seem to mind; he actually had a fascinated look in his eyes at the sight of her semi-cut tongue.

The boy looked around frantically, though, at the sound of yells and searches among the villagers. They were looking for him.

"Please, help me." He asked for you. His bright red eyes were the only thing you could make out from the night sky, the mud covering his body, and his trembling form. Regardless, something struck a chord in your heart to help him. Perhaps it was something that you knew would be direct disobedience to your father, but helping anyone and getting back at him was all that pushed you to help the little boy.

You ran into the house, not even bothering to hide your footsteps until you made it to the small cabinet that hid the medical kit. The forest rangers provided every household in the rainforest with them, and who knew you would be using them on someone other than yourself and your mother?

You ran from the house, soft little breaths escaping your lips as you made it back to the boy with little time passing. You were secretly surprised your father did not hear you, so he must be out somewhere.

"H-Here." You crouched next to him, holding out the medkit to him. The red-eyed boy deftly began to pull everything out and use the supplies with unexpected accuracy for a little child.

You looked up nervously, watching the group of villagers go in hoards as they looked for someone—the little boy, not that you knew that. Not that he told you. He wrapped his injured foot and hand before catching sight of the slavery tattoo branded on your wrist. "What's that?" He asked quietly, his small, pale hand grasping your wrist before you could hide it.

You were stunned into silence for a moment, speechless as to what to say in response. You swallowed before answering, "My father wishes to sell me to Hadanish."

"The slave owner near the desert?"

You gave a small, reluctant nod in response to his inquiry, knowing it was something to be ashamed of, even terrified of. The muddy boy grabbed your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Come with me." He pleaded with you. How could he let the little girl who saved him go into slavery? It would kill him alive. No one has ever shown him kindness before you. He couldn't let his savior just die. He knew what happened to slaves, especially women. He was disgusted at the mere concept of you being in the clutches of Hadanish, a man known for his rape, sodomy, and abuse. You already looked to have experienced hell; he couldn't bear thinking of you experiencing more of it.

"N-No, I mustn't... I have to stay with my mother. sh-she needs me."

He grasped the little girl's cheeks, making them muddy as well, while the yells and hollers of the villagers looking for someone persisted. He shook his head, seeing the tears in the little girl's eyes. It was sad that you already seemed so grown up. "You saved me. I will never forget this. I will save you, I swear." He whispered to you, his heart breaking as he knew he had to leave. He had to go now.

You stammered slightly, your heart pounding in your chest, as you began to watch the little boy stand, taking the medkit with him. "W-Wait!" She called out for him, and luckily, he did pause. "What's your name?" She asked him softly, receiving a faint smile from him.

"Zandik, and yours?"

You whispered your name, only for him to nod and run off into the night.

It has been over 500 years since you were alive. It was weird considering you thought that you'd have been passing away like any normal person... But when you got to 40 years old and you still hadn't aged past 23, you knew something was wrong.

So did Hadanish, but he took advantage of it. He knew that as a slave who had no signs of age or death, you were like the perfect worker. It wasn't until your bones ached and threatened to break after hours of labor that he let you rest, only to get about 5 hours of sleep, and that's being very generous. He sent you to nation after nation in chains as a walking slave to serve from master to master; you wouldn't be surprised if everyone forgot about you—just something like a package for them.

Slowly, over the span of 200 years, you began to believe them. Tormented by what you saw through the ages, by the age of 396, you were so deep and lost in your own mind that it was like all you could think about was doing your labor. Until your bones break, until you throw up and can't think about your own name, until you forget to be.

It was at age 512, 5 years ago, that some person helped you. Practically saved you, as you were near death one particular night.

That morning, you woke up to a strange, nagging feeling. Something is screaming in your brain to get out of there. It was weird. After all the years you had spent completely alone in your head while your body got abused left and right, it was odd to hear a sense of self-preservation still remaining.

It was before 4 a.m. on a Wednesday when you got that dreadful feeling. It was something that you had never truly experienced before. Something in your gut told you that if you did not leave in less than 10 minutes, you'd never wake up again.

Carefully and strategically, you stood; being used to the chains that clamped down on your ankles, you shuffled silently to your current master. Asleep, unaware of whatever danger was lurking near the camp. It set your teeth on edge, the approaching lethalness, but the best you could do right now was get the hell out of there.

Your heart pounded and ached in your chest. It had been so long since you felt like hope was even possible in your situation. Maybe it was when you turned 124 that you stopped believing? You forgot. It didn't matter now. To hell with all the past grievances, you were getting out. Today.

With a shakiness you hadn't experienced in awhile, you reached for your master's pocket. The dogs around you, also chained to the metal post, did not stir. Neither did any of the other people as you slipped your hand around your key—a delicate yellow shade. It caused your breath to stutter as you weakly walked behind one of the tents, carefully unlocking your chains, as the idea of them waking up to their prized forever slave to be escaping...

Yet they were trusting. In over a decade of events and masters, you had never once tried to escape. Before today. It was because, at the ripe age of 4, you were already out working for your father—minor tasks, but still. Then you joined your brother; it was ingrained in your very soul to be a slave. To be a worker. They trusted that their product wasn't even aware she could escape. but they underestimated the power of instincts and wanting to remain alive, even for you.

The key twisted, and the lock came undone a second more. It was like time froze for a long, agonizing second, waiting and listening to anyone waking up to the betrayal—no, the resistance of a slave.

When nothing happened, you took off in a sprint. It felt so weird to fully extend your weak, shaky legs, but you told yourself that it was the most freeing, beautiful feeling. The nation of Natlan was beautiful yet savage; the land was not suited for the unfit, yet luckily for you, being a slave that worked until the skin was completely off your feet and bleeding, you were quite capable of this. It was like the pain of you running for hours on end didn't even phase you; the wheeze of your breaths did not stop you, nor did the trembling of your legs to take a breath prevent you from running all the way until you physically collapsed on the sands of Fonatine, laughing like a fool.

It had been far, far too long since you smiled and laughed until you were gasping for air while your legs trembled. Sore and probably having broken bones from your relentless running, while your head was spinning with exhaustion and dehydration. You were on a delirium high, dying as you lay on the beach.

After so long, you had basically killed yourself by escaping. It didn't make you sad; in fact, you laughed even more. Until you were puking up the water and bread from yesterday's lunch. It was hilarious!

You did all this just to die! It was so...

So… beautiful! It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. A crazed expression on your face as suddenly you could not laugh anymore. Your chest was just falling and rising rapidly while your heart rate shot up to levels you'd never felt before. looking up into the sky with wide, shaky eyes.

For some reason, the little boy you helped when you were just a small child flashed before your eyes. Oh yeah. Did he live a good life? You wondered, Did he suffer but escape earlier than you? Should you have accepted his offer to escape?

Maybe you did have a regret in your miserable life. The one choice you could've made could've changed your very life. What would it have looked like? Would your brother have lived?

"H-Hold me." You whispered out, unable to even lift a finger as you stared up in the sky, unable to breathe any longer as, for some reason, it was like life had swept under your feet...

The water dripped slowly. Just dripping in her open mouth to slowly hydrate her body so as not to put her in shock. Foolish girl, she already looked like she had put her heart through a shock. It was lucky she was even barely alive. Although he couldn't necessarily blame her, not after seeing the several slave tattoos all over her body when cleaning her up.

Perhaps it's for the best that she did such a thing, so she knows what life feels like. Overwhelming would be an understatement. He would probably tell her to look after that insanity she felt for that short amount of time; perhaps she could find life where she found death.

Maybe.

He would have to report to the doctor that he would not be coming back until tomorrow, which did worry him slightly. but if he told the harbinger that he had found another rare experiment item, he would let it pass.

"Foolish girl. The world has done you cruelty, yet I have to use this tactic. Sigh." The man gently placed a damp cloth atop her forehead, cooling down the fever ravaging her insides. She would take a while to heal, but that was why he was here. As a Fatui operative, he had never truly saved a life. It felt nice.

Perhaps she would be suited for a life in Snezhnaya; who knows? All he knew in this moment was that she was dying.

"Your soulmate is probably waiting for you somewhere. C'mon, foolish girl, wake up for them."

#dottore #genshin impact #genshin dottore #zandik #dottore x reader #x reader #smut with plot #smut with feelings #fluff #requests open

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wickjump · 25 days

Note

Wick, i wanna hear your thoughts on horror x cross..I’m desperate to hear someone talk about them. Idc how crazy or how ooc it is. trust that I will eat it up like it’s a million dollar steak

OH MY GOD THNAK YOU SO MUCH VIBINGTOPAZ IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABOUT THEM WORDS CANT EXPLAIN HOW HAPPY OKAY HERE YOU TO HERES A BIG FAT HEADCANON DUMP. i never see them outside of bsp and don’t get me wrong i love the bsp but sometimes i just want these two on their own yk? this is a bit more fanon than my normal stuff btw but i try my best ok

okok here:

when cross first joined nm and his group he was terrified of horror. he was intimidated by everyone, but horror was the most visibly scary. like there was just no ignoring the fact that this guy killed people before like he ignored it with everyone else. so for a good long while he kept his distance, and it was horror who tried to reach out first after months of never talking despite living in the same building, eating at the same table, and working under the same guy.

it was very clear that talking to cross just at all scared the shit out of him, and since horror is in charge of the cooking, he decided hey why not, and started making foods that appealed to cross as a sort of peace offering. after a while, cross realized what horror’s intent was, and slowly started to come around. he even attempted to give horror food in return (a few of the chocolate bars he had squirreled away) which solidified them as allies and set the foundation for them to develop a further friendship and relationship.

food is their initial and primary love language because it was a medium they could both work with when they first started becoming friends—horror enjoyed being given and giving food purely because he HAS it, and he’s able to make sure he and those he loves are fed, and cross had cooked with undyne alongside his brother and knows the basics of it and enjoys it. cross is literally the only one allowed in the kitchen outside of horror and nightmare, partially bc horror loooovesss him and partially because he’s actually responsible. horror makes him brownies sometimes just because he can btw. or like those chocolate taco desserts? cross loves those so horror makes them. all the time. cross does not mind he likes it a lot actually it’s very sweet

horror and cross are the epitome of i would kill for you (horror) x i would die for you (cross). they’re both very very intense but in different ways and i love that for them. cross takes blows on the battlefield meanwhile horror attacks those on behalf of cross when the other hesitates or refuses to kill (which is all the time cross at heart is a pacifist).

i also feel like they’d be big on physical touch but maybe i’m just super lonely. they’re devoted in different ways and i like that for them. they seem like big ‘kiss on the hand’ people yk what i’m talking about. like the back of your hand kiss. that. i also think they’re one of those cringe ass couples who like. do the waist grabby from behind when they’re cooking or generally working. ew cringe romance (i would die for them). neck kisses too. and biting but that tips into suggestive territory. they’d be big on that though

oh hey angst time. horror feels guilty and somewhat disturbed whenever cross mentions alphys, because of his au’s alphys incident, and it’s the same with undyne. cross was very close with both of them, more so than horror ever was despite having been alphys’ coworker at one point (after all, alphys was cross’ sister), and he feels bad because like. cross speaks so highly of alphys and undyne, but horror tore apart alphys’ mind and undyne is literally the cause of his most visible scar. he feels guilt for what he did, and refuses to elaborate on his au’s alphys and undyne for the most part because he doesn’t want to fuck cross up with the knowledge of the things horror did, the things alphys did, the things undyne did. thankfully after getting the hint that horror did not like mentions of undyne, cross stopped mentioning his undyne pretty much entirely and speaks of alphys a little bit less, and they never really elaborated on that fully outside of choppy confessions during panic attacks.

meanwhile, cross doesn’t understand why horror never visits his au, or at least his brother. because horror is ABLE to, he has his au right there, but he just… never visits? none of his family, his friends? cross would kill and die for the chance to get his au back, but horror doesn’t care for his? horror feeds them and that’s it, he doesn’t remember the last time horror just took a break to visit his family. cross would sacrifice his own life for even a sliver of a chance of getting his family back. it’s not until he fully understands how horrifying horror’s au is that he doesn’t resent him as much for it.

their clashing views and experience are hard to look past, but in the end they love each other enough to empathize with each other and the situations they’d come from. horror has issues with remembering and articulating things from time to time combined with severe migraines, so cross helps him with those. horror meanwhile gets cross to sit the fuck down and take care of himself jesus christ man because what do you mean this asshole is INTENTIONALLY starving himself. fym “i feel like i haven’t earned it lol” sit the fuck down and eat this food i LOVINGLY PREPARED. GOD. they help each other w their issues and bad habits. cross works himself to near death? okay shut up i’m going to forcibly lift you up and carry you to your room and lock you inside until you go to sleep. horror throws up after eating because he can’t handle that much food? cross is there to help him through it. i like them a lot. they r there for each other through their highs and lows.

since i hate xchara exclusion i think xchara like absolutely fucking despises horror. not because he’s evil and mean and grrr to cross, but he just genuinely does not trust horror and cannot believe that he has any sort of good intentions. xchara sort of fueled cross’ doubt about him for a while, though as time moved on and horror didn’t seem to have any harmful ulterior motives, xchara toned down on the whole ‘he is going to kill you don’t blink around him or you will die’ talk. not entirely but you know. he’s always got the ‘i’ve got my eye on you’ look whenever horror is anywhere near them but horror doesn’t know that unfortunately. he doesn’t get the pseudo brother stamp of approval. horror’s brother likes cross a lot though, especially because cross is literally the exact opposite of lazy and unhealthy and encourages self care of others (not himself, the absolute loser). like out of anyone he could’ve ended up with, horror’s brother (creeps? crooks? sugar??) likes cross the best i think.

ok speed round: cross is the type to not notice when anyone is interested in him, just at all. most frustrating months of horror’s life really. horror packs little trail mix baggies for cross when he goes out on missions or patrol. this is just cause i think it’s cute. purring skeletons, i like purring skeletons it’s my favorite thing ever and i think they should get to purr together and lay down in bed for hours on end half asleep half awake just existing together. when cross saw his very first colored sunset horror was there and that definitely furthered the at the time small spark of romance. cross, bc he’s a swap, is much more of a superhero nerd than a science nerd like horror, and they bicker over whether or not they watch a documentary or action movie. i think they don’t bicker like killer and dust do, they bicker in like. the very clearly lighthearted and cutesy way that doesn’t last long. it’s more like banter actually. gags

ok that’s it (for now…..) because i don’t want this to be too-too long. i love them and i was so so so so SO excited when you asked me this omg. i love asks like these i cannot stress this enough. ask me whatever you want whenever you want and i will answer. if it doesn’t seem like i have, that’s because it’s in my drafts and being worked on because sometimes i’m unsure or have half finished thoughts i want to put the effort in fleshing out later bc y’all deserve headcanons that aren’t half baked. anyway i will literally never get tired of this it’s so fun

#way more fanon than usual #like wayyy more fanon #but stfu i’m having fun over here #and i cannot see them in canon or canon adjacent ever probably #they’re far too different #horror sans #cross sans #horrorcross #cross x horror #horror x cross #bad sanses #sanscest #utmv

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fizzing-imagines · 10 months

Text

Ponytails | Gareth Emerson x Girly! Cheerleader! Reader

Notes: I love this couple idc. But I promise that something else with Gareth is coming 🫶

Warnings: Some brief sexual innuendos

Words: 1.2k

"Gareth?" He could hear his little sisters footsteps running upstairs. The two of them just came home from cheerleading practice, and were apparently very excited to tell him what happened today. "Gaaareth!" The younger one of the two didn't even knock, just burst open his door with a wide grin on her face. Both were still in their uniforms, bows in their high ponytails, as they jumped on his bed. "What did I tell you about privacy.", he said while sitting up. Lucky him he didn't call you yet - that would've been a disaster. Gareth didn't tell his family about your relationship by now. "This is more important than privacy!", the older one of the two exclaimed. "The seniors helped us today!" Now he was even happier that he didn't call you. He knows you're a senior at the Hawkins Ghosts cheerleading team. "One of them, uhm...Ginny, what was her name again?" The younger one was at a loss. "(Y/N).", she replied with a grin. "Yes, (Y/N)! She was so nice, she even did our hair!" They both turned their head so he could see the ponytails you did for them. Now, he didn't know much about hairstyles but he could tell that there was no hair left behind in those ponytails. "And she helped me with my backhandspring! I can do one now!" Ginny was wiggling her arms in excitement as Georgia, the younger one, was lightly jumping up-and-down her bed. "Can you come to practice next time, pleeease?" Georgia had the perfect puppy dog eyes, and she knew that that was how she got things from Gareth. How could he not cave in? "Fine. If you give me some privacy now." They both nodded and left his room without shutting the door. With a lightly annoyed huff, he got up and shut it before grabbing the phone on his nightstand.

"You got some really motivated sisters.", you said a few minutes into the call. Gareth chuckled, knowing how his sisters were. "I know right. They were really excited about you in particular.", he said with a grin on his face. You couldn't see it, but you knew it was there. "Maybe it's time to finally tell them about us.", you said. Gareth has told you before that he was nervous about introducing you. Not only because he was scared since you were his first girlfriend, but also because of all the what if's. What if his family didn't like you? What if they thought you two weren't a good match? What if they thought you deserved better than him? But the first question seemed to be eradicated, seeing how excited his sisters were about you. "Are you at the mini practice next week?"

You were. The coaches gave the okay once you said that you loved helping the mini team and would like to help out again. But it was also part of you and Gareths plan to finally introduce you. You waited for them in the parking lot, being leaned against your car while playing with your keychain. It was a black and white bow, the same colours as the Hawkins Ghosts uniform. You arrived way too early at practice, only thr coaches cars being in the parking lot with you. After 15 more minutes, more cars pulled in, filled with the young cheerleaders. You recognised Gareths family car as it was the biggest one to arrive. As they got out, Ginny and Georgia immediately recognised you from last weeks practice. "(Y/N)!", they yelled with excitement in their voices as they ran over. "Are you helping us again today?" You crouched down to their eye level with a smile on their face. "I am. Should I do your ponytails again?" They nodded their heads in anticipation. Gareth and his parents now came over as well. "You must be (Y/N).", their mother said, smiling as well. "We've heard all about you." You got back up. "I' glad I made such a good impression.", you said, then looked over at your boyfriend. He knew he had to say it now. "Well, uhm, I actually have something to say.", he started. "I've known (Y/N) for a while, and...she's actually been my girlfriend for a month." His two younger sisters started grinning. "Can you come over every day then?", Ginny asked. She was so hopeful. "Maybe not every day, but some days.", you said to her with a smile. Gareths parents didn't look shocked, more surprised at his surprising statement. But it all made sense in the end: He had more sleepovers, was on the phone for hours and was overall happier. "We should've figured.", Gareths father said to his wife. She nodded her head in agreement. "We would love to host dinner then.", she said to you with a smile. "You don't happen to have time today?" This went so much better than Gareth expected. "It sounds lovely.", you replied before turning back to Gareths sisters. "Right, now to the locker room. I've got hair to do."

Dinner went great. Afterwards, Gareths mother even asked you how to do a ponytail the way you do it for Ginny and Georgia. Of course you showed her with your two willing participants. His dad was amazed on how much you knew about cars when you told him how you fix your family members cars and tuned your own car regularly. Overall, you made an amazing impression on his entire family. They let you sleep over for the night after letting your parents know. Gareth was buzzing to fall asleep next to you in his own bed for the first time, even though he's done it at your place countless of times. But his bed was smaller than yours - more reason to cuddle. And you did just that.

"Wait, if I just- no, now my foot is hanging out." You were trying your best not to fully lay down on Gareth. "Maybe- no, doesn't work." As much as he loves you, he's gotten slightly annoyed at how you were climbing over him at this point. "Come here, princess.", he finally said while pulling you on his chest. His legs made a slight opening for you to rest your legs between his while your head rested on his chest. "See, all good." His right hand started petting your head carefully while his left arm was draped around your waist. "What if you stop breathing and die while we're asleep now?", you asked. This was a legitimate fear of yours. "You're tiny, that won't happen." He gave you a reassuring smile before kissing the top of your head. You made a "Hmm" sound while getting comfortable on top of him. No matter your size, he'll always say you're smaller than him. "Besides, you said the same when you sat on my face and I didn't die." You slapped his shoulder in a joking manner "Gareth!" Your head shot up whole giving him a stern look, but he just laughed. "You know I'm right." Gareth gave you a peck on your lips before lightly pushing your head back down on his chest. "You're a tease.", you complained once you had your head rested again. "I'm not, princess. I'd be a tease if I'd finger you under the covers and didn't let you-" You put your hands over his mouth. "Good night, Gareth." You huffed as you pulled the blanket over the two of you. He chuckled, kissed the top of your head once again and squeezed you tightly once.

"Good night, princess."

#gareth stranger things #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson #gareth emerson fluff

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creepsopasta · 1 year

Text

sleepless.

eyeless jack oneshot.

contains: fast pacing(?), ooc soft jack idc i love him like and subscribe

jack had been gone for quite a few weeks. this wasn’t unusual, he was gone pretty often. that meant you were alone most of the time.

you didn’t sleep a lot. it felt empty without jack there, on the other side of you. he was warm. whenever you’d go to sleep, he’d wrap his arms around you and whisper such sweet little things.

those were the best moments, the moments you craved to attain again.

but it never happened now.

he was never home.

whenever he got back from his little missions, he crawled in bed with you and tried to make things better. but sometimes you can’t just say “i’m sorry” and expect it to magically fix everything.

even if you wanted to forgive him or find a quick fix, it wouldn’t fix the loneliness and estrangement you felt from jack.

no matter how much you asked, pleaded or begged, he had to leave you. the trips got longer and longer. you couldn’t sleep very well without him there.

there was a day when he was back earlier than expected. you were ecstatic at first, because finally you could spend a little quality time with your boyfriend.

it was clear he did not feel the same. he was in a bad mood the entire time, which you could understand since he had been working hard lately, but it was like no matter what you did or offered or tried, he refused you.

almost like he saw you as some sort of pest. an inconvenience he just couldn’t get rid of.

you didn’t forget about that day as you lied in bed longer than usual. jack had just walked in the room, trying to be as quiet as possible because he thought you were still asleep.

at least he cared about that.

“you’re home early,” you said. he was supposed to be gone for another two weeks.

“i’m just here to check on you. i can’t stay.”

“oh. that’s okay. i’m used to being here without you anyways.”

you felt his stare fall from you to the floor. shame. it was very present in him now. a part of him wanted to defend himself; come up with an excuse, deflect somehow. but you were right.

the bed dipped. you didn’t bother to look at jack. you probably wouldn’t see him again for another month, so there was no point. then you’d just miss him and mourn the moments you couldn’t have.

“listen,” you really did miss his voice. it had been such a long time, you wanted to hear him tell you how much he loved you again. just one more time. “do you think i like doing this? do you think i wake up everyday and decide i want to be away from you? do you think i forget that you’re here, waiting for me? i always think about you. i think about you all the fucking time. i want to be here with you, in bed, doing nothing, saying nothing. just being there.”

you turned to face him, tears slowly making their way down your face. “then why don’t you? why can’t you stay here with me?” you felt so stupid and small when you looked at him. he seemed so apathetic behind his mask, not caring or seeing anything.

“i can stay,” he whispered, feeling just as weak as you did. “i can always stay for you.”

jack was warm as he wrapped himself around you. he was always very warm. you had longed for another moment like this for a long time.

“please don’t leave me again.” you said, shaky, fearful of him being gone the next day.

he hummed softly, “never.”

you fell asleep.

#creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta

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pixelatedraindrops · 8 months

Text

Why Yuma Kokohead is my main whump candidate🌡️ An Analysis:

(contains raincode spoilers)

So, some of you people are probably asking yourself; Why do I keep making these sickly edits of Yuma?

Okay. Allow me to present my evidence and reasoning behind this weird little obsession of mine in 3 parts. (prepare for a small essay with some spoilers)

First off; I've noticed that Yuma always holds his head like this whenever he's distressed.

I know its probably just a nod to his memory loss, but he does it

EVERY

SINGLE

TIME

Through the whole game.

Like his model is just programed to do it whenever he makes these two expressions in the sprite art.

He always looks so pale and tired... sick even.

Which is why I edited these sprites first

The model of him that’s used in an Ace Attorney fan made crossover project does this exact same gesture too.

Only he actually looks like he's in even MORE pain here.

source

And Reminder; he canonically felt sick in the first chapter of the game. Idc what the reason was, the point is it happened.

All of this might confirm that he has potential to be frail of health or may suffer from specified ailments easily.

Also... DO YOU HEAR THIS LABORED BREATHING???

Like hello? BE FR RIGHT NOW??

In the JP dub, he speaks under somewhat heavy sounding breaths when he's going through this ordeal of trying to open the door to the Infirmary (as he should) It shows how exhausted he feels or how dizzy he is just wanting, BEGGING to lay down and make the world stop spinning.

(sorry for the poor quality video lol)

This was all that was going through my mind when I first played this part of the chapter. And I nearly lost it. He was officially on my list

This part of Chapter 0 was more than enough to convince me he had the potential.

SPOILER TERRITORY⚠️

Second: Yuma usually doesn't mind admitting when he is weak or vulnerable.

Such as when he tells Fubuki that he feels like he's in pain and going to pass out after Shinigami punched him in the Ch3 ML, or telling Vivia how scared he was when he was threatening to kill him during the Ch4 Investigation, or admitting his fear and hesitation to Shinigami in Chapter 5's deserted factory. Anytime that he admits his feelings if someone asks him rather than trying to act tough. Instead of playing dumb, he admits when he feels a negative way. He's completely honest about it.

THAT IS SOME GOOD SHIT 👀

This is really good fodder for a scenario where he just confesses that he's not feeling well. Or that he's about to be sick. Or if he's in pain or injured. Or if he's having a mental breakdown. He won't shy away from it. He'll say it.

(though I did kinda make him play dumb in my own fic lol I cannot deny that there are times he also wants to be strong and/or not be a burden to others)

Third: Yuma's size. HIS TINY SIZE??? COME ON?? He may as well be a CHILD.

I know vivia is a freaking giant but STILL LOOK HOW SMALL HE IS

He is so baby despite his age being completely unknown. He could be a teenager or he could be an adult over 20. Nobody knows.

Point is regardless of that, you can see him is any kind of vulnerable situation with no doubt or worry of it being OOC. You can see him crying if he's hurting. You can see him whining about making the pain go away. You can see him wanting comfort if he has a nightmare. You can see him having a panic attack reaching out to a caretaker for support.

He can be carried or lifted up by anyone taller than him and probably be light as a feather. Seeing him cling to them like a sick or hurt kid would.

He could sit or lay on their lap. He could lean on them as they help him walk if he's hurt, or as they help him eat or drink if he's too weak to do so himself.

And he probably couldn't stop someone from forcing him down to rest if he tried due to his physical stature being unfit for combat. (or anything)

Regardless, it would ALL FIT.

Like taking care of a child.

Now with those 3 points out of the way, I ask you all:

How can this character NOT be easy whump bait? Don’t underestimate my imagination as a sickfic enthusiast.

HE IS LITERALLY SO WHUMPEE SHAPED AND CODED WITH THIS INFORMATION

He's a perfect victim for specifically any sort of head issue:

Be it a headache, a head injury, migraine, or what I usually continue to give to him in my edits.

A High Fever.

plus, coupled with the RAIN 24/7 SETTING?

In THIS type of scenario??

AS I KEEP SAYING; IT'S WAY TOO DAMN EASY

THIS GAME PRACTICALLY SPOON FEEDS ME ALL THIS BAIT

he's got the major potential to be the biggest sickly wet cat ever

and I love him so much for that

he's so dizzyboy coded that I want to make him SICK AS A PUPPY

Which is why I do it so much.

40 degrees? Call a freaking doctor aaaa

I'll mostly go with a high fever because they're my favorite thing in the sick whump category and easy to edit, but at the same time, he could be suffering with any sort of issue and it would seem accurate, likely or canon, so long as it involves his head.

Such as a splitting headache, immense dizziness, flash blurred vision, or even a nausea induced migraine. (heck, even all of the above, go crazy)

You may ask yourself, why?

Easy: For caretaking fluff purposes.

That's mostly why sickfics exist.

The potential fluff of him getting taken care of by the NDA (found family) Shinigami (chaotic mascot partner/sibling) Kurumi (platonic or romantic) or heck maybe even Makoto (sibling dynamic or possible ‘self-care’)

Just the thought and image of him getting taken care of in general puts a smile on my face. Its a HUGE comfort for me 💜

The potential for the found family, shipping, or sibling moments he can produce from being in this state is astronomical. And you don't see that in characters very often. He is a very rare specimen. He is Number 1 after all.

Checks literally all of my boxes on why I love illness whump and sickfics so much. He is perfect.

Sometimes sacrifices must be made to forge deeper connections. And these kinds of scenarios almost NEVER fail to be 1 of three things: tooth-rottingly wholesome, heartbreakingly angsty, or chaotically comedic. It depends on your preference. (They're mostly wholesome and sweet though.)

fr though.

once you find your prime whumpee you never go back

and now I know how it feels ;w; the bliss makes me feel as though I am now complete in a place where something was missing.

Thank you Kodaka for this adorable smol anxious purple trainee who’s actually the top dog 💜

I love him dearly🥰

Some of you may just want to see Yuma as a cool smart, competent, and badass protagonist and that's great! I completely agree! That he is.

But to me personally? He's also a soft, delicate, anxiety filled, adorable lil' wet cat who needs constant TLC, love and/or support 💊 Physically and/or mentally.

Get a character that can do both lol

That is all.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

I love this little guy so much! He means everything to me.💜 He’s just a little guy. My babygirl, my little scrunkly, my lil' blorbo, my little meow meow…

No matter how you see it;

Yuma Kokohead is a blessing✨

#whumpcode #master detective archives: rain code #rain code #yuma kokohead #long post #character analysis #not me explaining once again why he’s my prime whumpee #and honestly a really solid whumpee in general #he’s tiny frail anxious self concious and physically weak #LITERALLY WHUMPEE SHAPED AND CODED #AND I HAVE EVIDENCE #I’m honestly surprised more whump blogs haven’t targeted him yet #illness #whump #whump posting #illness whump #fever #my edits #fever edit #male whump #whumpee #whump community #canon whump #whumpblr #individuals holding their heads from pain or dizziniess is one of my favorite things ever #and the fact this boy does it CONSTANTLY as part of his CHARACTER??#instant fave and instant target holy shit #he’s a frail baby wet cat and he needs all hugs in the world #a perfect set up for fluffy moments between him and many various potential caretakers #I love him so much even though I torment him constantly lol

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ca-suffit · 6 days

Text

my inbox got *so* quiet the last couple days but then I noticed something interesting.

almost everything was about sam or lestat again

then look at how virginia is posting now

and this

this side has always needed to pretend this is about something else so they don't have to talk about fandom racism. some of the asks I got might have been real but the timing of this feels sus. trying to get me to talk shit about sam but when I didn't post anything for days u decided to get the gossip rolling urself? that's what this is lol. faked outrage to stir the pot. u have to subtly aim at black fans again and also go deeper into ur weird parasocial sam reid feelings so u feel important and loved. wtf.

didn't u all send sam a fan art book and other stuff ur always being loud about cuz he mentioned having it in interviews a few times? don't u visit him on sets and tell him u luv him all the time (I've seen the posts lol). he's fucking with u so u will watch the show more and react just like this lol idiots.

the last fangs psa post also tried to pretend it was about this

the craziest thing about this tho is that after she was done aiming at the black and brown fans, she posts a big part about this white guy *with a lestat icon* but.............now it's about race??

isn't it weird how they can't keep to one story lol. it's all about hating lestat except for when u can't use that against a white lestat fan u wish would stfu so u pull the "I'm black" card instead and then reveal u have no friends lol.

this has never been about lestat or sam. it's an excuse because they don't have the range to speak about why lestat being judged for his ignorant white shit feels uncomfortable to them (especially if they want to fuck him, cuz I'm p sure fangs does). they get off power tripping on telling white fans it's okay to do racist shit if u hate the "right" ppl. her and keybearer are the first to do dumb shit to alienate themselves but blame everyone else for it. then cry to white fandom for hugs because they know how easy it is to get white ppl to feel good about shit if u stroke the fires of antiblackness in them. nobody is kicking u out of spaces unless ur doing some fuckshit but white ppl only hear "I'm black and ppl are being mean to me :(" and then rush to do the most racist shit ever because u just gave them a "good" excuse to do it. if a lot of black ppl are defending a white person who talks about antiblackness and ur the only black person saying that's wrong? u are the one who is the problem! especially because fangs and keybearer are both *not* american and nearly everyone from "this subset" is......and that is also the show's focus, that is louis' struggle! not to mention how fangs got upset about *this* in the cap but then had no issue pulling out talk of the fucking palestine genocide on a black american fan, to say that black americans don't suffer oppression. is this the real reason nobody likes ur bitch ass, mayhaps?

them being unable to let anyone know peace because of their own bad feelings is the most annoying thing. the show hits u over the head with the "memory is a monster" thing. we *know* we're gonna be seeing different versions of ppl and events and that's alot of what makes it interesting and fun. it's insane u keep pretending we're ignorant to this, as if u *also* haven't been crying for years now about "wait until lestat tells his side!!!!" we have fucking heard ur annoying asses jfc. WE KNOW.

but u have these ppl who can't hear a word against their fav without pulling out the books and showing u some sad lestat passage to change ur mind. girl shut up idc?? can't u let ppl like things as they come gd. what's the harm in enjoying the journey. u assholes are always saying ur so smart but then u have tantrums that the show isn't on book 12 already and ppl don't luv lestat enough yet. who tf cares? he's literally all the tags are whenever a 2 second clip shows up in any S2 thing rn, what are u even complaining about.

fucking crazy that this is louis' story but the focus is always on why isn't lestat getting more attention, why do ppl hate lestat, why is everyone mean to lestat. nobody frames it like that because then u'd v easily understand how stupid and racist this shit rly is. when u speak up in defense about any black character they literally accuse u of being the woke mob but ok lol. "did u listen to what jacob *a black man* said about the character being a crazy liar, sweetie??" (example 1, example 2) this shit is so obvious.

#asks #interview with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #amc iwtv #iwtv 2022 #fandom racism #virginiaisforvampires #showmey0urfangs

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coyotestarcraft · 5 months

Note

Hello, I hate to be a bother but could you write some platonic head canons for Crowley x teen!reader. Where like Crowley is the readers dad?

Crowleys my one of favorite characters and I’d love to see how you think he’d be as a dad.

Your not a bother at all! I honestly don’t see too many fics about this topic but I definitely think about it from time to time.

I’ll definitely make a separate series about this in the future.

I’ll make a separate headcannon for aziraphale don’t worry!

Please clarify if you want female/male or gender neutral reader when requesting please. (This goes for everyone) 🙂

Reader is gender neutral to keep it fair.

Y/n is used a lot.

Requests: Currently On Hiatus (I’m just finishing the ones in my inbox for now)

🚫MINORS DNI🚫

————————————

Okay, being the child of a demon had its pros and cons.

Pro’s, you got away with a lot more than people would let on. You once took down the entire electric grid of Soho by accident but after realizing what you’d done, a huge smile had crossed your face. It was like you were being handed a billion dollars.

When you told Crowley he cackled, “the entire city is in a blackout?” You laughed with him, “it was an accident but it was funny when I heard people screaming because the lights went out.”

Cons, overprotective, VERY overprotective. You will not leave the flat until you tell him where you are going and when you will come back. You are his kid after all he doesn’t wanna lose you.

Despite all the arguments, at the end of the day you hug each other telling each other how much you love them.

“Dad?” You look up at his eyes, “hm?” He looks down. “I love you.” You smile, he rolled his eyes but nevertheless smiled softly, gently picked you up and swinging you around while you laughed.

When you first met Aziraphale he was surprised to hear that you loved to read (if you don’t, um, just pretend? Or skip this next part idc).

You happily expressed your love for the Hunger Games series, and many books about history.

Crowley grumbled everytime he got stuck in the middle your gossiping but he secretly liked that you were happy about sharing your interests, though he admit out loud.

When you had bad dreams, you’d sneak into Crowley’s room and cuddle into him.

“Y/n? What are you doing up so late?” He groggily asked.

“I had a bad dream dad, can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Yeah, come on, get comfy.” He smiled, you climbed in snuggle close to him as he wrapped his arms around you, you fell asleep quickly knowing you were safe.

Crowley is a great dad, rough around the edges but soft deep inside, he may not show it all the time but when you two are together he’ll make an exception to be soft.

————————

Thank you for reading!

#good omens #good omens crowley #crowley #dad!crowley #good omens fandom #good omens headcanons

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skayafair · 7 months

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37 The Farm

I love how there are two parts of the fandom now:

the "i love you Oscar but you're so not making it out of this alive, i'm in denial"

and the "JEALOUS JOHN HELL YES look dear I don't care about Oscar either but could you be a bit more stealth about it"

And sometimes they merge. I believe.

(I'm team 2 btw)

Also I'm sorry but Oscar is fruity as hell, don't even try to tell me he's written as a straight man, there's just NO way okay. Speaking as greyromantic/ace myself

And the feeling I've got in 36 that John isn't just jealous, he's basically being erased and is scared to death to lose the only things he has - a sight that's not his but is the only use he sees for himself right now, a mind - the only thing that's truly him and his alone (shut up King), and a voice just one person can hear (also a few limbs control but this is being omitted all the time), that's why being so petty and posessive, - has only gotten stronger in 37. John, dear. You need a separation, and I don't even mean your eldritch body unsharing stuff, just psychologically. Which is hard, I guess, because of the eldritch body sharing stuff.

But he feels unstable and vulnerable af, unsure, uncertain about his very existence, that's why all the snarkiness.

Btw I really liked how I switched sides with John and Arthur this episode. Usually they are more stable morally-wise, as in one is being the moral compass for the other, but here the morals were being tossed between them like a hot potato. Although with Arthur I was more like disappointed and irritated (aren't you trying to be a good man and a Human with a capital H?) when he lost the course, and with John it's simply a grinny YASSSS JOHN 💛 idk and idc. Guess who's my comfort character. (Wrong, it's Yellow. Fine, it's John first.)

I wish I could care about Oscar, but he feels like a hindrance. Oooh my John kinny is showing aren't they As in, I KNOW he's helping, but I also see him as a very likely source of drama and disaster. He's not as familiar with the eldritch stuff the Jester team went through, he's pretty innocent but kinda unhinged in borderline religious way (borderline because it's not the faith in his god that makes him unhinged), and this contrast gives me the heebie jeebies. He feels like a slightly rabid kitten who's going to be killed because of his innocent ignorance and his drive to stick his nose where it shouldn't really go.

And uh. Oscar sounds like a really nice person. So he really SHOULDN'T go anywhere near Jester team because, y'know. People die like flies around them. I wouldn't wish such an unfortunate outcome to a genuinely nice person, no matter how much I like the boys.

Oh, btw I like the most recent addition to the podcast and am eager to learn what those black wormy things were :3

#malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #Masked

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wikiangela-fanfics · 2 years

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I wish I could save you (I wish I could tell you)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Words: 4.7k

Description: Dean mourns Cas, and regrets not telling him how he feels. So, as soon as they get him back, he decides to be more honest than he's ever been.

Ao3

Haven't written them for a year and missed it too much haha might be ooc and parts are forced but idc, I like it hah

***

Dean’s sitting at the table in the bunker library, a half-empty bottle of whiskey and an unused glass next to him, and a knife in hand. He’s in the process of carving Castiel’s name into the table next to their initials, anger bubbling up under his skin, together with growing despair. He’s always so angry, and now he’s not sure where he should direct it. He’s mad at the Empty for taking Cas, at Cas for making stupid deals and not telling him about it, at Chuck for creating this whole mess… But that anger is almost overcome by the crushing feelings of hopelessness and defeat. They won, and yet he feels defeated. They might have saved the world, but the truth is, he lost his.

So, he sits there and drinks. He just wants to stop feeling this way, even just for a minute. He feels on the verge of either crying or punching something, which would preferably result in getting hurt too. He wants to do something. To try to feel something other than his heart breaking a little more every time he recalls his last moments with Cas. Every time he recalls being so stunned and shocked he actually couldn’t tell Cas-

“Hey, you okay?” he hears Sam’s tentative voice from the entrance.

“Peachy.” he grunts, taking a long sip of whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Do you- Do you wanna talk?” Sam cautiously approaches the table.

“Do I ever?” Dean finally looks at his brother with a raised eyebrow, but then immediately regrets it, seeing the concern on his face. Concern for Dean. He doesn’t want Sam to worry about him, he’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, but he can deal with it on his own, like always.

The world almost ended, again, and Sam is worried about Dean. Again. Why is it always him? Why can’t some other bastard suffer for once? What did he do to deserve this? No, seriously, he, Sam and Cas have saved the world so many times now. Why are they destined to suffer? Chuck isn’t even around anymore, and this shitshow continues. Dean genuinely doesn’t know what to do with his life now. He can’t imagine a future without Cas, he never thought he’d have to. Despite the fights and falling-outs, he honestly thought, or even expected, that they’d be together forever, as best friends or… or what he didn’t dare hope for, but as it happens, could’ve had if he wasn’t so stupid.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice gets through his thoughts, and he realizes Sam’s been talking for a while, and a single tear is falling down Dean’s face now. He angrily wipes it away, going back to carving. Sam sits down next to him with a heavy sigh. “I know-” he starts, but Dean cuts him off.

“You don’t.”

“I know it’s about Cas. Obviously.” Sam finishes anyway, and Dean’s hand stills at hearing the name, the tip of the knife hovering over the first line of the letter E. “You know, you can talk to me about him if you want. I know it’s not-” he pauses abruptly, clears his throat, and instead says: “Uh, I miss him too. Will you ever tell me about what actually happened to him?”

“What’s there to say?” Dean asks dryly, taking another sip. “I told you, he summoned the Empty and saved me.”

“Yeah, but-” Sam starts, but Dean interrupts, anger seeping into his voice:

“He made a fucking deal with the fucking Empty. To save Jack.”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s almost whispering, as if he thinks speaking up will spook Dean or something, and he won’t be willing to share anymore. He’s not about to talk about his feelings, though. He missed his chance on that. But he thinks that Sam deserves to know how Cas- how he- how it happened. Cas was Sam’s best friend, too, and they haven’t had the chance to talk about it yet.

“Jack’s life for his. Basically, he, uh, he’s truly happy or some shit, and the Empty comes to collect. More or less.” he tries to sound neutral, but his breath catches in his throat, and he takes another long sip from the bottle, then goes back to carving the name, but despite himself, his mouth keeps moving, his voice quiet. “We were cornered, Billie was just outside the door, about to kill us- I knew I’d have to watch him die again-” his voice breaks and he clears his throat, not even having the energy to feel embarrassed about that. His brother saw him at his lowest multiple times, he doesn’t have to try to hide shit from him or feel embarrassed – or so he’s trying to convince himself. “And then he- well, I guess he had his ‘moment of true happiness’, because the Empty came and took him and Billie, which you already knew.” he shakes his head. “The bastard saved my life and I couldn’t even- Fuck, man.” he takes a deep breath. Thinking about it non-stop is enough to hurt like hell, but talking about it is just too much for him to handle. “Okay, chick-flick moment over. I’m done. Now you know what happened and you can stop bothering me.”

“No, wait, but what did he do? How did he summon the Empty? How did he get happy in those circumstances?” damn Sam and his curiosity.

“He- It doesn’t matter. It’s between me and him. Not like I can do anything about it now.” he chuckles bitterly, gripping the knife so hard his knuckles went white. The blade gleams welcomingly in the faint light of the library lamps, tempting him to wrap his hand around it or run his fingers over it. To draw blood, to feel that pleasant sharp sting. He knows, he remembers, that physical pain could distract him from feeling like his heart was cut out of his chest and left a gaping hole there, even just for a second. “I’m such a stupid asshole.” he adds through gritted teeth.

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam tries for a joke. Dean isn’t kidding, though, and he’s really not in the mood.

“Yeah.” he clears his throat again. “Are we done with this conversation now?” he asks a bit rudely, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to finish carving, adding Jack’s name there, too – he’s not gone gone, but he’s a part of his family – and finish his whiskey, maybe get another bottle to truly numb himself, and then go to bed and quietly sob into his pillow or pass out from drinking too much. And tomorrow, when he’s a bit more sober, he’ll take Baby and drive somewhere he can let it all out, whether by crying or screaming or punching trees until his knuckles bleed. Maybe he needs a hunt, just to channel all that anger into something useful.

“Fine. You mind if I stay here, though? Do some research?” Sam asks, still with that tentativeness in his voice. Dean has no idea what the hell he needs to research right now, it’s not like they have anything to take care of, and it’s pretty late, but he grunts something that’s supposed to mean ‘sure, whatever.’

Then, the room falls silent, save for the sounds of pages turning, books being gently put on the table or back on the shelves, glass clinking against the table, and a knife scraping against wood.

Once both Jack’s and Cas’ names are carved and the bottle is empty, Dean leaves the library, going straight for his room, stopping for another bottle in the kitchen, and leaving Sam still rummaging through books. Dean drinks some more and quietly cries until he passes out.

***

When Dean wakes up, it’s way too early, his head is pounding, and his bladder is way too full after a bottle and a half of alcohol. He goes to the bathroom, catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and immediately turns away, not wanting to see how shitty he looks beyond the red and puffy eyes, which clearly indicate he’s been crying. Then he makes his way towards the kitchen for a bottle of beer – in theory he knows it’s fucked up and really unhealthy that this is his first thought in the morning, but that’s just how he functions, and he’s mourning now, and he really doesn’t give a fuck.

Passing the library he sees Sam still at the table, asleep with his head on the pages of a book opened in front of him. He walks up to him and takes the book out from under his head quickly and swiftly, which causes Sam’s head to bump against the table, and he wakes up.

“You spent the whole night here?” Dean asks, while Sam quietly complains about his forehead hurting now, rubbing the spot where it hit the table. “What are you researching?”

“I’m trying to find a way to bring Cas back.” Sam admits, and Dean freezes, feeling his expression harden. He doesn’t want to start hoping only to be met with disappointment and even more heartache later.

“Don’t.” Dean just grunts, turning to walk away. He can’t get his hopes up. He can’t. If there’s a possibility, he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t think he’d be able to live if they found a way and then it wouldn’t work out. He’s pretty sure that would send him over the edge – though he is pretty much there already. He’s just one more disappointment away from snapping and really doing something enormously idiotic and reckless.

“Dean.” Sam calls after him. “I know you miss him, and I miss him too. I know it’s a little different for you, though.” he starts and Dean stops in his tracks. What the hell? “And we lost him so many times before, and I saw what that did to you every time. I can’t- I don’t want to see you go through this again. You’re my brother and I want you to be happy. I found my person I can be happy with, and-”

“What do you mean different for me?” Dean interrupts. He knows what Sam meant. He doesn’t want to admit it to his brother, though. He knows each time Cas died they both mourned, but it always hit him harder. He knows why. He’s known for years. He didn’t know Sam knows, though. He keeps standing with his back towards Sam, not able to face him, especially if they were having this conversation.

“You know.” Sam sighs. “Dean, you’re over forty years old. Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped pretending? It’s just me, and I’m not judging you. I’d never. Not about this. And if you weren’t so stubborn and- and repressed, everything could look different.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he insists stubbornly, probably only proving Sam’s point.

Sam’s voice is quiet and reassuring, though a bit exasperated, when he says: “I know that you see Cas as- as more than just a best friend. I see how you feel about him. And he clearly felt the same.” at that, Dean turns around to look at Sam with surprise. Dean knows that now, after Cas explicitly told him, only to fucking- to die after. How did Sam notice it? Any of it? Was Dean just that much in denial about his own feelings he couldn’t see what was right in front of him? “I’m not dumb. Or blind. I’ve been right there through it all. All twelve years of it. I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you were with each other… how hard it was for you especially whenever we lost him. I know.” he emphasizes.

“What’s up with having a fucking feelings conversation now?” Dean asks after a beat, finally moving to leave the library. He feels uncomfortable and vulnerable, and if he doesn’t get out of there right this second, he might just crumble right in front of Sam. And he only allows for that to happen when there’s no one around.

Dean goes to the kitchen and as he takes the first sip of cold beer, Sam enters.

“Seriously? At this hour?” Sam chastises. He rarely comments on Dean’s drinking, usually settling for only disapproving glances, because whenever he did say something in the past, Dean would either brush him off or get angry. This is none of Sam’s business, and Dean doesn’t care. He stopped caring a long time ago, and now that Cas is gone… He feels almost numb, if it wasn’t for the anger.

“Whatever, dude.” Dean shrugs, downing half the bottle. Sam just sighs heavily, the concern and pity fucking oozing out of his expression. Dean knows Sam just wants to help, he’s his brother, he’s worried, just like Dean gets worried about him all the time… but he swears, if he sees that fucking concerned expression for five more minutes, he will punch Sam. Which is why he probably should just go, instead of letting the anger win. He needs to let it out, but not like this.

“Listen, we can find a way-”

“No, you listen.” he lets a bit of the anger seep into his voice and he hates it. “I lost him.” his voice is shaking and he hates that even more. They both lost Cas, but at this point there’s no reason to pretend Dean feels the same way Sam does. “I always lose him. He either gets killed or leaves, and I’m- I can’t do it again.” he’s shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Not in front of Sam. He hates breaking down in front of anyone, especially his younger brother. He’s supposed to be the strong one, the one to take care of Sammy, not the other way around.

“But he always comes back, too. He came back from the Empty once, remember?” Sam says carefully, and that tone of voice, as if he expects Dean to snap, makes him almost do just that, as he briefly considers throwing the bottle against the wall. He doesn’t, though. He takes a few deep breaths and drinks some more, before putting the bottle on the counter next to him. Lately he feels like he’s fighting with every breath not to let the anger out, as if there’s some anger-demon inside of him trying to break free. Well, that’s how he’s felt for years, it just intensified even more now. “There’s always hope.”

“Sam.” Dean looks at his brother with a pained expression, not able to hide behind the mask just yet, it’s way too early in the morning and he’s too hurt, so he allows himself a few seconds of vulnerability. He’ll beat himself up over it later. “If I let myself hope and it doesn’t work out, I won’t survive this.” his voice is quiet, barely a whisper, because he really doesn’t want to admit it. He’s just too overwhelmed by everything, all they went through, all the emotions – the anger, grief, heartbreak, the hopeless love… adding to this the support from his brother, who’s clearly fucking okay with Dean being- with him having feelings for their male – well, an angel, but in a man’s body – best friend… It’s all too much. And he’s too tired to keep hiding it. He’s gone years pretending to be okay, putting on this mask. What’s even the point if he just loses the one thing, the one person, who could make him truly happy? Which is kind of ironic that he was this for Cas, too. Only it got Cas dead, and Dean has to live with it. He doesn’t know how long he can go on, though. Just living from hunt to hunt, no bigger purpose, nothing to distract himself with, with the biggest Big Bad defeated. He’s not even sure he wants to keep hunting, but he needs something to occupy himself and to get that anger out. “I love him, Sammy.” he finally admits, his voice breaking, and a tear escaping and running down his cheek. Sam’s whole expression softens.

“I know. We’ll get him back. I won’t rest until we get him back. And when we do, the first thing you’re gonna do is tell him how you feel. Yeah?” he smiles, as if there’s any reason for smiling yet. As if they’re going to succeed.

“Sure.” Dean wipes the tears and puts on a neutral expression. That was too much vulnerability for a whole year, he feels uncomfortable now. He doesn’t let himself believe in what Sam’s saying, but he figures he might humor him for a minute until they inevitably find out there’s literally nothing they can do. It’s something to occupy his mind and time, at least. A way to keep him from spiraling and completely crumbling. “Where do we start?”

***

As it turns out, Sam has no idea where to start, because there’s not much lore about the Empty. But he’s determined, and Dean hates to admit that some little spark of hope awakens in him, as much as he tries to stifle it. Realistically he knows it’s an impossible task. They go through book after book, anything they can find about cosmic entities, which is obviously not a lot. Not many beings come back from the Empty to report. He knows they for sure will not be able to find any information or get Cas back on their own. That is why they also continuously pray to Jack to get him down here and help, but so far there’s been radio silence. Which Dean really understands. Jack’s God now, the capital G God, which still sounds insane. He has things to take care of, Heaven to rebuild, and millions of people praying to him all the time. Dean’s not sure how that whole praying thing works, but maybe it’s difficult to pick their prayers out of so many.

Eventually he does show up, though, and he promises to bring Cas back. Jack wants that, too, obviously. He says he would never just let Cas stay where he is now. That’s when Dean allows himself to feel hopeful. Jack is God, if anyone can manage this, it’s him. Dean still goes through every book, finds any witch or demon or angel on earth that can tell him anything. He’s frantic and single-minded, focused only on one thing – getting Cas back. He throws himself into it completely and almost obsessively.

Jack is gone for a few days, then weeks, and Dean is restless and needs to keep working. He knows he should wait for Jack, because what else is he supposed to do? There’s really nothing else left. But he can’t just sit and do nothing. He can’t give up. Not when he just started to have hope. He knows that if he stops trying to find a way to get Cas back even for a second, even if there’s literally nothing on earth that can help, he will totally break down and this time he won’t be able to get out of it.

Sam is there through it all, together with Eileen. They both seem worried about him, but also determined to help. They do research, they drive across the country, fly across the world to find some crumbs of information that, unsurprisingly, lead them nowhere.

Until finally Jack comes back after months, and brings Cas with him. He’s just standing there, in the bunker, in the library, right in front of Dean, looking as gorgeous as always, in his fucking trenchcoat, with a nervous smile on his face, looking straight into Dean’s eyes. Dean is frozen. He can vaguely hear Jack explain what exactly happened and why it took so long, but all Dean can think is ‘Cas. Cas is back. Cas is here. Cas. Cas. Cas.'

Dean hears Sam quietly usher Eileen and Jack out of the room, leaving Dean and Cas there, staring at each other. Dean can’t quite believe this is real. Finally, Cas speaks up:

“Hello, Dean.” is all he says, but it’s enough to make Dean crumble. He feels tears start falling down his cheeks, his feet take him to Cas, his hands grabbing the coat and bringing him closer, into a hug, then wrapping his arms around him. Dean suddenly feels like can breathe easily now, as if for the last few months he had this weight of grief and loss that suffocated him, and now it’s released. Cas hugs him back, and they just hold each other, and Dean is overcome with a flood of relief and so much love. His tears fall onto Cas’ trenchcoat, while his hands grip him tightly, still trying to make sure he’s really there. He finally says something, but it’s just Cas’ name, over and over, whispering, his voice shaking. He feels like he’s outside his body, it all seems surreal and unlike him. He just can’t keep it in. If it was anyone else, he’d be embarrassed, crying and showing so much emotion, but it’s Cas. It’s his Cas. Dean was sure he lost him for good this time, and now he’s back. After all, he always is, isn’t he?

“I can’t believe you’re here.” he whispers finally, pulling away only enough to look at Cas. He can look at him, because he’s back, he’s right here, and Dean’s looking at him and touching him and he can-

“Me neither.” Cas wipes Dean’s cheeks gently, their faces really close together. “Jack really struggled with this, dealing with the Empty is very hard and very annoying. But apparently being God has its perks.” he smiles.

“Cas.” Dean clears his throat, puts his palms on the sides of Cas’ face and looks him straight in the eyes. He has shit to say, and he needs to do it before he chickens out, like he always does. Not this time, though. He doesn’t exactly have a way with words, but he’ll try his best. He needs to say it all. His heart hammering against his chest loudly. He’s been through a lot and yet he’s never been more nervous than now. “I didn’t get to say it before, when- because you took me by surprise. So.” he takes a shaky breath, preparing to lay his heart on his sleeve for the first time ever. Cas’ hopeful eyes give him courage to do so. “I love you too, Cas. You can have me. You can have all of me, if you still want that. You-” His voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as he bears his soul. It’s a bit easier than he expected, given his inability to express his feelings, but it’s Cas. And Dean figures he’s made everything too difficult by now, he’ll say what he needs to say to assure Cas how he feels, to assure him that his feelings are reciprocated, he’d do anything. No matter how strange it feels coming out of his mouth. For once, he’ll be one hundred percent honest. “You’re my happiness. My everything. And without you, I don’t feel alive. I need you to stay, and never leave me again. If you’ll have me.” he finishes, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice, his eyes miraculously stay on Cas’ during the whole speech. Cas is smiling widely now.

“Dean.” Cas brings his hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. Dean loves to hear his name out of Cas’ mouth again. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Yeah?” Dean can’t contain a wide, genuine smile that spreads on his face, and it feels so unfamiliar, he doesn’t remember the last time he smiled like that. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Cas look this happy, either. The self-hating part of Dean wants to interject and ask Cas if he’s sure he wants him, if he’s sure he loves all of him – the good, the bad and the ugly. But he doesn’t, because he knows. He still can’t believe it and it will take him a while, maybe even his whole life, but at least he knows now.

“Of course. I told you already. I just never imagined that you’d want me, too.” he adds quietly, his thumb caresses Dean’s cheek gently, and Dean feels something like sparks of electricity where their skin touches.

“Well, I do. I want to-” he pauses, gathering his courage to say one more, unusual for him, cliche thing he means with all his heart. “I want to spend forever with you. Thoughts?” he adds with a teasing smile.

“I think that would be great. I’m in.” Cas grins.

“Good.” Dean leans in, looking into Cas’ eyes questioningly. Cas’ smile widens even more, if that’s even possible. Dean bumps his nose with his own playfully, before finally, finally, after years of repressing those feelings and actively forcing himself not to even acknowledge them, he finally kisses Cas. And it’s the sweetest, most tender kiss of Dean’s life. It starts out chaste, just lips against lips, before Cas opens his mouth, deepening it. It turned more intense and passionate, but still lazy and unrushed. They take their time just savoring this moment and learning each other this new way. They have all the time in the world now.

It takes a while before Dean pulls away, solely because he just wants to see Cas’ face again, look into those gorgeous eyes he thought he’d never see again. Cas beams at him, and Dean can’t decide what he wants more – to keep looking at him or to kiss him and never stop.

“You came back to me.” he finally whispers.

“Yeah. And I plan to stay right here forever.” Cas tightens his grip where his arms are wrapped around Dean now.

“Here here?” Dean asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows what Cas means. “Because I kinda thought we could maybe leave the bunker. Go somewhere nice and quiet and- I don’t know. It’s stupid.” he cuts off and feels his face heat up. Cas just came back, they don’t have to have this conversation now.

“It’s not stupid.” Cas brings his hand back to Dean’s face, and Dean melts against the touch. “Tell me.”

“I think I wanna stop hunting.” he admits it out loud for the first time. “Sammy and Eileen got it. I’ve been doing this my whole life. I’m fucking tired, man. I just- I just want a simple, normal, boring life. With you.” he says and sees that amazing smile on Cas’ face yet again. This is the first day he’s ever seen this smile, and it keeps showing up, and Dean wants to do everything for it to never disappear. “You game?”

“Yes.” Cas grins. “I would love nothing more than to live a normal, boring life with you.”

“Let’s do it then.” Dean says and he can’t believe how content and relieved he feels at the mere thought of that. Of just settling down, like he always wanted. Best of all, it’ll be with the man he loves the most in this world. He’s filled with so much love for him, he can’t help but say it again: “I love you. It took me way too long to finally say it, but now I’ll keep saying it, over and over, until you get sick of it.” he smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dean.” Cas chuckles lightly. “And I’ll never get sick of hearing you say it.”

“Good.” he just says again, looking into his eyes for one more moment, before kissing him again. He knows they’re gonna have to join the rest of their family soon, talk about everything, they probably want to welcome Cas back, too. But for now Dean wants to be selfish and keep Cas to himself, in his arms, for a little while longer.

It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago, he quite literally didn’t have the will to live anymore, and now, in this moment, he feels more alive than he has in years. He finally feels like his life is properly starting now, on his terms, the way he wants and chooses, with the person he loves. With Cas. Dean can’t wait for forever with him.

Tag list: (tagging everyone from 50 ways and people who said they wanted to be tagged when I post destiel fics on my last 50 ways post a year ago lol sorry if you don't wanna be tagged, just tell me haha)

@proudcasgirl @im-sam-fucking-winchester @nguyenxtrang @manifestingdestiel @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @somethings-are-meant-tobe @cherry-cheshire

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