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wineauntie · 3 months

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KARMA – Quinn Hughes x famous singer!reader

summary: where the captain of the canucks gets the entire team tickets to his famous singer!gf’s tour, only to find out that she’s in the mood to shake up some of her lyrics.

note: songs from both Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift are referenced to have been written by reader! Both songs referenced are Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter and Karma by Taylor Swift (both of which have been plaguing my brain for the past two weeks!)

warnings: use of y/n, fem reader, simp Quinn, use of nicknames like baby and sweetheart, tooth-rotting morning fluff, I think that’s about it really.

word count: 2.4k+

(lyrics have been italicised and lyrics italicised in bold are the lyrics you change 🙏)

Golden light filtered into your apartment bedroom through a slight crack in your curtains. Your alarm had gone off twice in the last ten minutes, but all you could focus on was the man whose head was cradled on your chest and whose hair your fingers were mindlessly running through as he slept.

You had missed mornings like these. Mornings where the world seemed so small, where everything you needed was confined in this one apartment.

Mornings where the world was all just a little bit softer.

You'd been on tour for a month and a half prior to this moment, and tonight you were playing BC Place in your home city, which meant you had gotten to spend a few days and nights in the comfort of your own apartment and in the warmth of your boyfriend's arms.

Your third and final alarm for the morning chirped causing the man lying on your chest to groan, the sound vibrating down your spine as you moved to turn off the irritating noise, hoping to linger in the previous serenity. He shifted his position slightly, manoeuvring himself so that his face buried itself into your neck, leaving delicate kisses all the way up to your jaw.

"If you mark me up my makeup artist won't be happy with you," you forewarned as you hummed gently, your hand brushing a small strand of hair back from his face.

Quinn Hughes grumbled incoherently as he tightened his grip around you. You laughed at the groggy man's actions. It was seven o'clock in the morning, and usually, he was up and at it already, but he had a four-day period with no games, just training in the afternoon, which may or may not be the reason you had scheduled your shows and following rest period to fall on those days.

What could you say? You were greedy. You would give anything to have more time with your love.

"I have to go soon," You started, making no attempt to get up from the bed. Quinn's eyes blinked slowly as he adjusted to the morning light, his thumb tracing uneven circles on your hip. "I have rehearsals all day until later. Are you still planning on coming and bringing everyone?"

You had ensured that Quinn had a ticket to all of the shows you were going to be playing at BC Place (three in total, all of which had been sold out!). You'd also provided tickets to his teammates and their partners, wanting to see them all to catch up as well as reserving some for his parents, who’d be flying up to visit within the next day or two.

Quinn grunted as he pushed himself further up the bed so that he could be face-to-face with you. He placed another delicate kiss on your lips this time, despite your brewing complaints about morning breath.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he whispered softly, his nose nudging your own. The depth of his morning voice, paired with his gentleness made you melt into his touch, all your previous worries fading into the background. "Everyone is coming tonight...they haven't stopped talking about it."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Despite your extensive fame, you hadn't quite gotten used to the whole 'being famous' aspect. You could hardly believe so many people supported you and your music, it seemed so far away from you–so unreal.

"I'm excited," you smiled sheepishly, your eyes closing as Quinn pulled you closer to his warm body and held you firmly between his arms.

"Me too," He sighed with a sleepy grin of his own, "Can't wait to watch you on stage, waited long enough."

"I offered you tickets to the other ones but you had hockey," you whined with a yawn, your head nestling into his bare chest. "I think we should both just quit our jobs and buy a cottage out in the middle of nowhere."

Quinn hummed in amusement at your dramatics, his fingers traipsing up and down your spine. "Let's make it through today and reconsider," he suggested tiredly, "now five more minutes, please."

You didn't have to answer as you obliged his request and closed your eyes for another faithful five minutes.

—

"I...dah, dah, dah...I...duh, duh, duh."

Your halfhearted rehearsing of one of your songs backstage kept your mind occupied as your mic and earpiece were being attached to you. You could hear the buzzing of the crowd from outside, a small smile gracing your face to combat the nerves.

You'd been dressed and made up to perfection, not a single strand of hair out of place as people flitted around backstage preparing for you to take the stage. You shook out your limbs slightly, your jitteriness growing before you were scooped up from behind and carefully spun around. Your grin widened at the familiar grip around you as you let out a melodic laugh.

Once you were placed back on solid ground, you turned and hugged Quinn tightly, the comforting smell of his cologne soothing any remaining nerves lingering. He'd dressed up for the occasion, wearing a dress shirt and pants with his typical beanie covering his hair.

"How was practice?" You asked, your hands on his forearms as you scanned him for any signs of tiredness or bruises.

"Good, went well just as usual," he spoke soothingly. He knew you got nervous in the run-up to actually going on stage so he welcomed any distractions you threw his way. "Everyone's here by the way, and they were so excited when they saw their view for the show. They sent me back here with a million thanks."

You ducked your head as you smiled, "I can't wait until I can join you guys after the show," you remark, your hands fiddling with the buttons of his shirt cuffs.

"I know, but my girl has a job to do now," Quinn nodded his head behind you where your assistant had been trying to stall everyone attempting to sort you out for the show. "Go on out there and give it your all, baby,"

"I'll see you after?" You questioned as Quinn moved his hands to hold yours briefly.

"Oh, you're all mine after," he smirked and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away.

"Quinn!" You called after him which caused him to turn and face you, "Enjoy the show!"

"You know I will!”

—

Your show had started flawlessly from the moment you'd stepped out onto the stage. The crowd tonight was insane, all of them an array of colours and varying screams. You'd been beaming from the second you'd started performing, the type of smile that couldn't be faked which only seemed to widen whenever you caught a glimpse of Quinn and his teammates and friends in their box.

You were five songs into your set when your first scheme began to kick in. Your eyes had been drawn towards Quinn almost every few minutes, so it hadn't taken your fans long to realise exactly who was in that section. The majority of them pointing their phones towards the team to catch their various reactions.

"Vancouver!" You exclaimed gleefully into your microphone. "I want to hear all of you singing along…I want you to be the loudest crowd I've had yet!"

The opening beats of your next song flooded the stadium and a roar of excitement swept over the crowd. You let a mischievous grin creep onto your face as your plan set into action.

"Now, this song, I wrote on the balcony of a boy's apartment. It took me twenty minutes to write and two minutes to adore," you explained as the elongated intro played. "I found myself in love with someone, and all of a sudden, everything I felt was just...nonsense."

This song was one of your more ‘upfront' songs. You'd written after a date with Quinn one month into your relationship. You'd been sitting on his lap on the balcony of his apartment when inspiration had struck. You remembered his arms tightening around you as you scribbled the words on a crumpled napkin in front of you. It was honestly one of the more fun songs for you to perform, not only because of how entertaining the lyrics were but because you were able to make up a new outro with each city you'd been in and tonight was no different.

As you sang the song, your scheme rolled right into place, and your lips twitched up.

"I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense, I'm talkin', I'm talkin', "I'm talkin' all around the clock." you swayed your hips as you moved towards the part of the stands where you knew Quinn and the Canucks were located.

“I'm talkin' you on the Canucks, I'm talkin' opposite of soft, I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts," your cheeky grin spread across your face as you winked towards the man you loved. You danced the routine dance, giggling slightly as the change of words didn't go unnoticed by anybody which resulted in a series of high-pitched yelps and gasps. “You gotta keep up with me, I got some young energy, I caught the L-O-V-E, How do you do this to me?"

The energy maintained its high level as you made your way to centre stage, where you were the only one left by now. You held your mic towards the crowd for them to sing feeling yourself tear up slightly when they echoed clearly off of the stadium walls.

"This song catchier than chickenpox is, I bet your house is where my other sock is, Woke up this morning, thought I'd write a pop hit!"

"How quickly can you take your clothes off pop quiz?" You joined in before pausing slightly with a tilt of your head, a small hush of anticipation fell over the audience as they waited for your new outro.

"No, Mom, I swear this is not a phase," you grinned as you leaned towards the crowd, "I love hockey ‘specially when my man plays… but hush, you guys have my heart, BC Place.”

You let the cheers roll over you as you lowered your mic and feigned a curtsy, your lips drawing back into a smile as you waited for your next song to begin.

–

Ten songs later and the night was coming to a close. You knew you had two more nights in the city but a twinge ricocheted through your heart at the thought of having to leave again.

"Alright, BC Place, this is our last song for tonight!" You spoke with a smile as your words were instantly met with a chorus of booing. Sweat had gathered along your hairline, and your once meticulous look had now been somewhat displaced due to your dancing around, yet, you couldn't be happier. “I know, I know…”

You bit your lip as disgruntled and sorrowful yells of “more” and “no!” rang out all around.

"I just want to say that you guys have been incredible tonight, and there's no other place I'd rather be than here performing for you tonight. And so, for this final song, I want everyone up and dancing! I want you to scream the lyrics, cry the lyrics— honestly, as long as you guys are having fun, you don't even need to know the lyrics..." You continued brushing hair out of your face.

"I just want you to let loose as much as possible! So, my wonderful and beautiful audience, for the final time tonight, enjoy the song…this is Karma!”

The intro to your final song was met with a flurry of excitement, your fingers waggling as you waved to the crowd with a knowing smile.

"You're talking shit for the hell of it," You sang out the opening line, your eyes moving across the crowd as your dancers got into formation. "Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant,"

As the song continued, you moved gracefully across the stage, trying to give as much attention to each side of the stadium as possible. Your heart was thudding so loud you swore you could hear it despite the volume of the room.

This was it. Your final scheme of the night.

"'Cause Karma is the thunder, rattling your ground, Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter, Karma's gonna track you down," you moved closer to centre stage, your eyes focused ahead of you. "Step by step and town from town,"

"Sweet like justice, karma is a queen, Karma takes all my friends to the summit," your eyes glinted with mischief as you waltzed to the part of the stage closest to where Quinn was standing, managing to lock eyes with the man himself.

"Karma is the guy on that team," you smirked, curling your fingers in a come hither motion towards your boyfriend. You knew the camera broadcasting to the screens on either side of the stage briefly flitted toward Quinn and the Canucks before they refocused on you. "Coming straight home to me!"

Your words were met with a deafening thunder of screaming, as you giggled, winking up at the box where you swore you could see Quinn grinning, blushing under the stadium lights, his teammates nudging him with laughter. You waved towards them one last time before continuing your performance.

Once Karma’s last beat fell upon your ears, you found yourself so overwhelmed with love and joy. “Thank you, Vancouver, good night!” You cheered, waving and blowing kisses to the crowd before, you were ushered off the stage.

Your heart was racing as you exited backstage, the sound thrumming in your ears, fizzling along every nerve in your body. Your body was practically vibrating with adrenaline as people around you patted you in congratulations whilst someone began to take off your mic pack.

Your eyes jolted around the room and the chaos it inhabited. Your lip was between your teeth as the swell of adrenaline simmered out, your eyes continuing their search until they finally landed on the bright smile you yearned to see.

You quickly brushed off those around you as you half ran, half skipped towards Quinn, who caught you in his arms and allowed you to press your smiling lips to his.

“You were insane out there,” he beamed proudly, his arms around your waist as he pulled away from your kiss.

“You liked it?” You questioned softly, with your eyebrows drawn together with a nervous smile as your fingers traced his cheekbones.

“Of course I did,” Quinn teased, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple as the two of you began to move towards the dressing rooms. “but changing the lyrics? People will start to think you like me, sweetheart…”

You found yourself laughing, your head dropping as he tightened his arm around your waist.

“Why would they ever think that?!”

pls ignore how bad the nonsense outro is, it was one of five outros I tested and it was the one that worked the best 😭

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #famous!reader #singer!reader #I love quinn hughes what a man #literally toothrotting fluff #hughes brothers x y/n

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fourtyforever · 17 days

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Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

#fic rec #f1 fic rec #maxiel #charlos #yukierre #loscar #landoscar #twinklaren #strollonso #brocedes #hope you all enjoy :P

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the-onelol · 4 months

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"God of War" Seth x "God of the Moon" Reader (Ennead) Pt. 1

========================

Seth attended one of Ra's meetings, he expected it to be the same boring announcements she makes every now and then.

But this time when he entered the hall he was greeted by someone standing in the middle of the gigantic hall, to be judged.

A God with a falcon mask and a huge disk on top stood in the middle of the gigantic hall, braving against Ra's absolute dominance.

"Is that all, Ra?" The God with the Falcon mask asked as if he was determined to leave already.

Seth quietly made his way next to Nephthys.

He pointed at the strange scene happening and asked, "What's going on?"

Nephthys sighed and questioned, "You know great uncle Khonshu?" Seth nodded. "He's going to leave."

His eyes widened with shock but the mask covering his face covered it, but the way his voice echoed around the hall did not. "What?!"

Seth's voice echoed in the large hall of judgment, taking the attention off the God of the Moon, Khonshu.

"Hm?" The God, Khonshu whom Seth thought was being judged, but was instead leaving turned his head to look for the source of the sound.

Nephthys looked away from Seth and acted as if she did not know the man, silently sighing inside her head.

And Seth looked around as if he wasn't the one who just shouted.

Ra snickered, taking the attention off whatever just happened, and teased Khonshu. "Awe, leaving so soon? Don't you even miss me?"

(Khonshu pov)

"Absolutely not." You were determined to leave already after hearing about your banishment. You were sure spending more time with Ra has to be deteriorating your mind.

"Don't you want to meet your grand-nephews who I'm pretty sure don't know you?" Ra asked as she sat on her throne with her head resting on her hand.

You repeated your previous answer. "Absolutely not."

"Suit yourself then."

"Goodbye, my dearest Khonshu." She said with affection lacing her voice. You, in turn, looked at her with disgust but your mask hid it from her, but the way she snickered made you think she just saw your expression.

With a sigh, you turned your back on her and silently made your way towards the exit. You were one step away from the exit when Ra opened her mouth again and said the following words, that stopped you from exiting quickly.

"The doors to Ennead will always be open for you."

You turned your head over your shoulder and said, "Close it the fuck up." While you were turning your head again to look in front, did you see Seth with his mouth wide open, shocked, baffled, and extremely impressed.

Your gaze only lasted for less than a second, but Seth felt the way your eyes scanned him. As if you were dissecting him.

When you finally opened the door to exit the hall, Seth realized that was the first and last time he would see you for a while.

========================

Seth has tried for each night for many thousands of years to try and summon you, call for you, anything to interact with you. But all of them failed. But still, he never stopped trying, much to his brother's dismay.

You were growing tired of his pestering, and you left Ennead to not deal with useless things, but perhaps you should've just stayed if it meant Seth would not bother you at all.

He gave up trying to summon you, but instead replaced it with stories of his days, from his hunting with his son to his thoughts about his family. Treating you as if you were some diary of some sort.

Their son sometimes did it as well, albeit less than both his parents. From his love for his mother to his idolization for his father. The boy's stories amused you the most, the way his stories were a bit more unreal than how his father told them made you chuckle.

His wife also did it, she rambled each Sunday about how adorable Anubis was and how cute Seth was around her.

One night she seemed down, her stories were not as lively, and her eyes didn't gaze at the moon with pure adoration, but instead, she gazed at the moon as if she was asking for forgiveness.

"I love them very much, what I did was wrong I know...if I were to tell them the truth...would they find it in their heart to forgive me?"

========================

A few years passed, but it seemed to pass by with not much of a problem. Everyone seemed to have heard about the family treating you as a diary and they started to do it too. Making you scratch your head in annoyance.

Ra did it once but seeing how the moon turned pure black suddenly she didn't do it anymore.

========================

Perhaps it was because you didn't sleep for a few nights, or perhaps it was the boredom coming to give you hallucinations to keep you entertained.

But was Seth being raped by his own brother?

You waved the thought off your mind, but the way Seth, The God of War, Seth cried made you doubt if this really was a hallucination.

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

Seth escaped Osiris's grasp and ran outside to try and run away from his 'Brother'. He was crying, he didn't know he was crying. Perhaps he couldn't feel it or think about it when he was running away from his so-called 'Brother'.

"You bastard..." Seth gasped out as he tried to cover himself up, feeling sick down to his stomach.

Osiris said nothing and tried to reach Seth but was stopped by a pure white spear.

"What the fuck are you doing Osiris? Have you gone so low as to touch your own brother against his will?"

A familiar voice asked. A voice Seth was oh so unfamiliar yet familiar with. He had only heard it once, but he made sure to never forget it.

"Do not meddle with my problems, Khonshu."

You put your hands in the air "I'm not meddling with yours," Making Seth's heart drop. You pointed at Seth who was shivering, "I'm meddling with his."

========================

"You know, if I knew that saving you would cause the death of thousands, I wouldn't have saved you."

"But you did."

"Unfortunately, I did."

Seth tilted his head, and the strands of his hair followed suit. "Will you finally stop me, after many years?" He asked as his eyes turned into what you think, resembles crescent moons.

"No." You answered as you sat down on a seat right across from him seemingly to be put there just for you.

"Well, why are you here then?" He asked as he slurred his words.

"Checking on you."

"Why?"

"Your child, Anubis was it? Told me about your conditions."

His eyes widened at your words, as he sat up and asked shakily. "Anubis? Do you know where he is now?"

Your eyes scanned his face if the worry in his voice matched the expression on his face. The worry on his face doesn't match the Seth everyone talks about, the selfish, killing machine, and absolute maniac Seth.

But this was someone else. The Seth that Nephthys always seemed to boast about while they were married, the Seth that cares about his family. She always rambled about this side of Seth on full moons as if she were talking with you.

You visited her one night, but that's a story for another time.

You sighed, "I'm not sure if this is your child, he seems to be out of it." with a snap of your fingers a child entered the room filled with the smell of alcohol.

Not wasting a second, Seth the God of War stood up and ran to hug the boy. "Anubis!"

Your eyes scanned the boy's expression and whispered to yourself. "That's not Anubis..."

"Well, whatever..."

"...Whatever makes this madman happy for now."

========================

(A few years pass by)

"Great uncle! Can you teach me more moves?"

"Stop following me Horus."

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

"Great uncle, can you tell me more stories about your adventures?"

"Not you too Anubis..."

========================

They kept pestering you, and you were not having it. A light bulb lit up in your head. There is only one place they would both avoid,

Seth's temple.

"So tell me, oh great and amazing Khonshu, what are you doing here?" Seth asked playfully as he patted the seat beside him, motioning the you to take a seat with him.

You shook your head to decline and answered him honestly, "Your nephew and your child keep bothering me in my temple."

"And this is the only place they would both avoid." You grumbled.

Silence filled the intoxicated room until Seth suddenly opened his mouth.

"Did you know that I rambled to you a long time ago? As if you were some sort of a diary."

You stayed silent for a second, "I do."

He stood up and asked, "Do you remember all of them?"

You were feeling a bit in danger with how his mask suddenly started to form on his head. You chuckled a bit and answered honestly "I do."

He started walking towards you and asked, "Do you know why I did them?"

"No." You answered honestly. You stayed seated, curious as to what Seth would do.

He stopped right in front of you and said, "Because I wanted to annoy you." You raised your eyebrow at him, "To try and summon you to stop me from annoying you."

He kneeled in front of you and took your hand, "I wonder why you never stopped me..."

You took your hand away from his if he were to suddenly stand up you would be out of there. "Know your boundaries."

He stood up, you were going to run away but the sands suddenly chaining your hands stopped you.

"You're intoxicated you bastard." You tried to reason.

He ignored your words as one of his hands gripped your chin and the other gripped your mask as he mumbled. "How do you look under that mask, Khonshu..."

"Great uncle?"

========================

(In my head khonshu is like on of Ra's direct descendant)

(also the osiris scene is after osiris gave seth, anubis's godhood)

#seth x reader #ennead #ennead x reader #ennead seth x reader #horus x reader #anubis x reader #ennead horus x read #ennead anubis x reader #ennead seth #ennead horus #ennead anubis #ennead nephthys #nephthys x reader #ennead nephthys x reader

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woozvc · 2 months

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call you tonight

final (part XIX)

w/c - 1.6k + smau at the end

a/n - and this is it! after so long call you tonight has officially come to an end. I hope the last part of this clears up the eunwoo situation (reading your replies and theories made my day😭😭) and i hope this is an ending you can be satisfied with. thank you so much for all your love and patience on this series. it truly means a lot that you guys stuck around till the end even with my terrible posting schedule 🫶

previous / masterlist

this is it. this is the day.

the event started 20 minutes ago and till now, it's been a success. the auditorium is filled with laughter and dancing, courtesy of jihoons playlists.

you're currently standing at a corner just observing the entire place. a part of you feels at peace that this is finally over, the results will be out today and this is it. a part of you is also shit scared. the past few days have been a rollercoaster.

seungcheols words keep echoing in your head about how you're still important to him and he's changed. you really want to believe him. you really want to give him a-

“hey are you okay?”

you wake out of your trace by jihoons voice.

“yeah I'm fine”

“you seen a bit…distracted” he hands you a cup of lemonade. you take it with a small smile and shrug his comment off. no need to reply when he's right?

“how do you feel, you know, about your performance and all?” you look at him. he shakes his head

“I don't know. all of this feels unreal. I never thought I'd have to perform that too dance but here we are”

“doesn't it scare you?”

“obviously it does, but I find some comfort in it too. maybe it's the fact that a part of me believes taking this chance could end really well. maybe I'll finally let go of my past fears and just let myself be in the moment once.”

“hah.. that sounds nice.”

“yea I guess so. I think whatever happens tonight, I just hope I don't regret it. I want to take that risk”

you open your mouth to reply but you're interrupted by hoshis voice calling jihoon. he gives you a small smile and walks away.

right. regret. don't regret tonight. you decide to leave your spot in the corner when you see hansol walk in. being with a friend is better than being alone.

so jihoon is an amazing dancer. you were mesmerized, truly. his moves are fluid and his body doesn't miss a single beat. obviously hoshi is amazing too. his sharp and timed movements make him look like he was born for the stage.

the song is also amazing. jihoon later revealed it was called “bring it”. you'll definitely tell him to record it and send it to you.

the auditorium is a bit loud now. one hour till new year and the presidential results are about to be announced. you avoided seungcheol all night today. reason? you don't really know.

maybe you know mentally a part of you won't be able to handle his teasing if he wins. it's all friendly of course, but it doesn't change the fact you really, really want to win.

“hey y/n ready for the results?” jeonghan nudges into you and you push him off with an annoyed whine.

“jeonghan I swear if I don't win you'll have to wipe my tears”

“I won't mind that because I'll be winning”

“this is important to you huh?”

“it's my one shot to prove I'm actually good at something, can't fuck this one up”

“you dont have to prove yourself to anyone you know?”

“this is for me. I need this to tell myself I'm better than I think. I'm done always being known as the problem kid. and who knows maybe this will get me some street cred?” he winks and walks back to his group, knowing if he kept speaking, he would say something something sad and make you feel more stressed than you already do. you'd probably scold him for being so self deprecating too. your eyes follow him walking back and

oh.

seungcheol is looking directly at you. his gaze burning deep into you. you look away quickly, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. the music in the room slowly fades out.

“okay ladies and gentlemen are we ready for the most awaited moment of today?” seungkwans voice echos through the room and so does the cheering of the students.

“honestly? I'm not shocked at the result. I'm so proud of everyone who participated and made it this far. just know all of you are amazing and we as the student council and the teachers love your dedication. so first of all here are the names of the people who made it to the finals”

he starts reading off the list. there's your name and eunwoos name. after a few students he announces jeonghans name and….thats it? what?

this is surely a mistake and the entire auditorium feels so. there's chattering and confused looks all around

“ah yes, there's only 9 participants now. choi seungcheol removed his name because of some unavoidable circumstances so we divided all his votes to all the others”

your head shoots in seungcheols direction. you look at him confused and he smiles at you. he motions you to stay where you are for now. this can't be real? he can't just remove his name?

hansol taps your shoulder and tells you to focus on the stage. you look back at the stage, realizing you completely missed seungkwans dramatic speach on how much he waited for the results etc etc.

“and so, svtct, your student council president is…..y/n!”

there's screaming in the auditorium but this place has never felt so quiet. your legs are numb and your hearing is fucked. you…won? you actually did it?

“y/n go to the stage!!” jeonghan pushes you from the crowd towards the stage. you want to say something to him. you want to apologize for winning to him but

he's smiling so wide.

his eyes are genuine. he's genuinely happy you won. “don't worry about me, my favorite cousin’s win is my win” he grabs your hand and takes you to the stage.

seungkwan helps your walk onto the stage where the teachers are standing to give you your certificate and badge. you receive it, saying a small thank you to the teachers presenting and seungkwan hands you the mic

“any words president?”

any words? what the fuck even are words? you stare at the mic then back at seungkwan. you're glad you've been friends with him for so long that even without words, understands and nods at you

“I think our president wants to save the speach for during school hours to not bore us.. well I hope my speach was dramatic enough, wonwoo I'm looking at you. there's 30 minutes till new years so till then…enjoy!” he looks at jihoon to restart the music and when it does, all the eyes on you slowly move away as seungkwan leads you to the teachers.

they all congratulate you and praise you. after a while one teacher asks

“so who's going to be your vice?”

“jeonghan” there's no hesitation in your voice. the teachers seemed shocked, a bit put off too but they don't question it. they tell you good luck and let you go back to the crowd.

you stand near the stage for a bit. letting it all sink in. all these months of work, all the effort and everything worked out. even the banter with seungcheol worked- right. seungcheol.

you run back to try and find him when eunwoo bumps into you.

“hey y/n! congratulations there's no one who deserves it more than you” he gives you a smile and pat on your shoulder.

“thanks eunwoo”

“are you guys busy” you hear seungcheol behind you and immediately turn to him.

“not busy at all man” eunwoo says and walks off, winking at seungcheol while seungcheol just looks at him disgusted.

“I never liked that guy”

“why did you remove your name”

“he's always given me a bad vibe”

“you wanted this so badly”

“and he keeps flirting with-”

“choi seungcheol answer me.”

you cut him off

“answer you? okay fine. first of all don't call me by my full name. I left presidency because frankly I hate the pressure. I never wanted to be captain anyway. I got forced into it because of my grades and extra curriculars.” he takes a pause to look around the room before continuing.

”i realized I was only doing this because it was expected of me. so I left it. I rejoined the track and badminton team. that's what was important to me before and I'm going to continue it now” he says and looks at you. a small smile playing on his lips.

you're speechless. you always knew seungcheol never really liked captaincy but you didn't know till what extent. you feel bad. you feel bad for the all “why aren't you working” and “why did they make you captain” comments you said to him.

“I'm sorry seungcheol”

“for what”

“for everything”

he smiles. you realize that you're seeing his dimples after so long. he's never smiled that much in front of you before. he looks pretty.

“10 seconds guys!” yells seungkwan into the microphone. seungcheol softly takes your hand and says

“y/n, I know you haven't forgiven me”

“but I have to say”

“I've been thinking a lot”

“you're too important to me”

“I think I like you, more than friends.”

“can you give me a chance?”

“happy new year!” jeonghan comes and hugs you.

you have no idea how this is going to end. you're scared, terrified of this feeling but you won't let this go. you keep your grip on seungcheols hand. slowly the student council joins the hug and the rest of your friends follow. you look around. you're surrounded by people who love you, people who care for you. what could possibly go wrong?

“yeah…I'll take the risk.”

2months later :

taglist 🔖 — (thank you to you all <3)

@minhui896 @lirtha97 @haecien @thefroggybazaar @mayashu @jeonghansshitester @wonwoos-wineparty @huening-kawaii @sp1ng @wonwootakemyheart

@ddokye @thepoopdokyeomtouched @zzenkha @nishloves @weird-bookworm @sana-is-ms-rmty @immabecreepin @amxlia-stars

@peachhiz @punkhazardlaw @lockburn-castle @asyre @luchiet @ocyeanicc @wondering-out-loud @odetoyeonjun @tamcitrus @miriamxsworld @kissesfrmwonwoo @cherr-y-eji @jeoncatsworld @youre-on-your-ownkid @addicsvt @bangantokchy @tacosandbitch @sun-daddy-yoriichi @ckline35 @rakshithanotrao @isabellah29 @mangocustard16 @lone-lone-ranger @gyuguys @writingbarnes @scarlet931 @odxrilove @wonwoobestboyy @wollycobbl3-blr

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secretpostsposts · 5 months

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I'm going to call this Sibling Change

To avoid confusion, I'm going to call the adult version of the brothers John Dory, Bruce (they are the ones whose name can best be changed), Adult Clay, Adult Floyd and Branch, the young versions JD, Spruce, Young Clay, Young Floyd and Bitty B; unless it's Branch talking to the younger versions and he used the correct names (I imagine calling Spruce Bruce a mistake sometimes)

But more or less this is what I have in mind:

The adult siblings are very "emotional" as they see BittyB and have many feelings of guilt or regret because, their brother could have remained a sweet and gentle baby, but they ruined him, especially John Dory, I imagine that at some point he didn't. He endures it and only carries Bitty B and hugs him as if fearing that he would disappear into thin air and cries and asks, no, begs him to forgive him (taking into account that it was 20 years, I say John Dory seems to have traveled a lot, at some point). point returned to the Trolls Tree, so he could, for a while, believe that Branch was... Dead; I'm an older sister and I may not get along with my brother, the mere idea of losing him like that or having that idea, kills me inside, so John Doy may have that trauma, so not only does he apologize to Bitty B, he wants to believe that if he takes care of this version of his brother he will fix something about his now adult brother that he lives with) so I see a lot of part of the adult siblings these scenarios of regret and helplessness because they have this baby Branch in their hands and they know what to do but they feel bad, because he is their brother, but not their brother at the same time, they feel that they are trying to "replace" him in some way. shape.

While with the Band (I will refer to them that way since they are still a band and act more like brothers according to me) they are "floating" in the situation they feel unreal, they have their little brother, who is a baby, he wears a diaper !, and out of nowhere this adult Trolls Branch appears who claims to be Bitty B but in 20 years in the future and is so drastically different from his little brother, they understand that their little brother will change as he grows, but there is something wrong with this Branch, he doesn't seem to know how to deal with them, mistakes Spruce for "Bruce" and doesn't find Clat funny, and. Bitty B loves Clay's jokes, he seems nervous, and seems ready to have a heart attack every time he mentions or sees a Bergen too close to the tree, he also makes faces every time JD says something about the band or Harmony. Perfect Family; and not to mention Grandma, they just don't know what to do with this Branch, they know he's their brother but it's like having a perfect stranger in the house and their colors are so dull that they're starting to get sick with worry, and Branch is starting to ( I don't know if it's stealing or undermining) he will take JD's authority over the Band (brothers), he doesn't even let Grandma be in charge, he takes charge and it's strange.

This is more like a base of what the brothers' relationship will be like in these situations, a fanfic will be made, someone asked about it in the previous post, and Tumblr won't let me respond to the comments, so if anyone has something to say , the question box is open

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls brozone #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls clay #trolls spruce #trolls bruce #trolls floyd #brozone #Sibling Change

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blossombriefs · 23 days

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NSFW Headcanons | Raditz Edition [18+]

AN: This gif just gives me life I love men with chunky thighs

-Unlike his Saiyan counterparts I fully think Raditz would have an idea of what he was doing in the bedroom before he started getting with you. Raditz being an absolute shagger is one of my biggest headcanon for him.

-When you started hooking up with he really did talk a big game. So much so it came off very obnoxious. He would brag endlessly about his previous partners to try and get a reaction out of you but you were smart enough not to bite.

-he’s definitely a tits over ass kinda man. He loves squeezing them, playing with them and seeing them. A favourite position of his is just having you on top while he stares at you, utterly mesmerised. However, he does love spanking you and grabbing you - he just has a preference!

-again, he’s packing. I feel like all the Saiyans are. Curves to the left, about 8 inches.

-He became a bit more considerate of your feelings over time. He used to just fuck you rough and leave you be after but once you shown him how to do aftercare correctly, it drawn a bit more intimacy between the two of you.

-He’s very dominant. He can be very degrading to you during sex but who’s complaining? I sure wouldn’t be.

-he loves how you use your mouth, wether it’s whispering dirty things in his ear or using it to lap at his cock, he loves it. He loves making out with you, especially while you fuck. He loves when you beg for him, it makes him feel so powerful.

-I feel like his head game would be unreal too. The idea of him aiming to make you cum hard. He’d use his tongue better than anyone ever had on you before, while using his fingers. Your praise to him would push him to please you the best he can.

-he loves loud sex if that wasn’t obvious. He’s a very loud man anyway so imagine him during sex. Hearing him whimper in desperation during foreplay is such a turn on and him hearing you moan turns him on too.

-I see his favourite positions being having you on top - which I mentioned previously - and also simple missionary (which can be good it’s not alwayssss boring). He loves watching you and both these give him the chance to do so.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #anime #fanfic #dbz #raditz x reader #raditz

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canirove · 2 months

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My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 18

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Rúben…”

“Uhm…”

“I thought we were watching a movie. Netflix and chill, you know?” I giggled.

“We were. But the movie is boring and I’ve missed you. Kissing your neck is way more entertaining.”

“I was away for just two days, and you are doing more than just kissing my neck.”

“My hand may be going places, yes” he smirked. “Do you want it to stop?”

“I don’t, no.”

“Good” he said, going back to what he was doing.

“But maybe we could go somewhere a bit more comfortable?”

“My sofa is very comfortable.”

“I know, but…” I said, biting my lip to try and stay focused. “I like your bed better.”

“Alright then” he said, picking me up and carrying me over his shoulder.

“Rúben!” I said, laughing and hitting him on the back, his reply being pinching my butt.

When we made it to his room, he threw me on the bed, following right after and putting himself on top of me, kissing my lips, my jaw, my neck, his hand going everywhere under my clothes.

“Where did all this motivation come from?” I whispered.

“You.”

That was his only reply as he started undressing me, leaving kisses everywhere.

“Wait” I said after he got rid of his t-shirt. “I want to see you. Like, properly.”

“Ok” he said with that smirk of his, moving us both so I was sitting on top of him. “Better like this?”

“So much better” I said, running my fingers over his arms. “You are unreal, you know?”

“What?” he laughed, his thumbs making circles on my thighs and sending goosebumps all over my body.

“You are unreal. Look at this” I said, my fingers now on his chest, following the shape of his muscles. “This can’t be real. And this…” I said, now touching his abs. “Even while laying down they look perfectly defined.”

“There is something else that is gonna get perfectly defined if you keep moving like that.”

“What?”

“You haven’t noticed where you are sitting, have you?” he said, trying to hide a smile.

“I… Oh.”

“I don’t mind it, tho. I like it.”

“I also like the idea” I said, feeling my face burning.

“Then you know what to do.”

“I actually don’t” I chuckled.

“I’ll guide you” he said, grabbing my hips with his hands and moving me against him, the feeling making us both gasp. “Do you trust me?”

“I do, Rúben. You know that I do.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit, yeah, not gonna lie. You?"

"I'm shitting myself" Lucy said. "Imagine that you and Rodri don't like each other!"

"We will, don't worry."

"Ah!" she half screamed when someone rang the doorbell. "That must be them. How do I look?"

"Beautiful. What about me?"

"Gorgeous" she said with a big smile before going to open the door. "Hello, Rúben. Hello, you."

"Hello, you" Rodri replied. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too" Lucy said, leaning forward to kiss him.

"If you'll excuse me" Rúben said behind them, rolling his eyes and walking into our apartment. "Hi there."

"Hi" I replied. "Am I also getting a hello kiss?"

"Of course you are" he said with that smirk of his that I loved so much. Behind us, we could hear Lucy giggling like a teenage girl. "I didn't know they were so..."

"Cheesy?" I chuckled.

"Yeah" he said, turning around to look at them. Rodri had both his hands on Lucy's bum, firmly grabbing it while kissing her. "I thought we were going out for dinner, that dessert came after."

"Are you jealous, Dias?" Rodri asked.

"He's actually right" Lucy said, running her fingers up and down his chest. "We'll continue later."

"We better" he replied with a mischievous smile, taking her hand and walking towards the lift.

"Kids" Rúben sighed, rolling his eyes again. "Shall we?" he said, offering me his arm, this time making me giggle like an idiot.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"We need to do this again" Lucy said. After a very successful dinner, we had gone back to our apartment to have one last drink.

"We certainly do" Rodri said, kissing her. They had been like that all the time, constantly kissing and being affectionate with the other. PDA wasn't an issue with them.

"Yes, we do" Rúben said, trying very hard to not roll his eyes while they kept kissing. "But now it's time to go home."

"What? Already?" Lucy said.

"Already. We have training tomorrow first thing in the morning, and remember what Pep told us" Rúben said, looking directly at his teammate. "No extra activities."

"What does that mean?" Lucy asked.

"No sex until we've played on Sunday. That game it's all or nothing, we must be focused" Rodri said.

"Really? He forbade you to have sex?" she said.

"He just suggested it, but yeah" Rodri shrugged.

"I don't like him" Lucy replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'll make up for it, I promise." And then, they were back at it, kissing and not caring that Rúben and I were in front of them.

"Rúben, why don't you help me tidy up?" I said, getting up from the sofa and picking our glasses.

"Gladly" he grunted.

"Why are you acting like this? Are you jealous about Rodri not having eyes just for you anymore?" I asked him when we walked into the kitchen.

"I'm not jealous, put that eyebrow down" he said, trying not to smile.

"Then what is it? You aren't against PDA."

"I'm not, no. But they are too much."

"Maybe. But they look so happy... And Lucy deserves it."

"She does. They both do, to be honest."

"Should we let them alone and enjoying themselves for a bit longer?" I asked.

"And do what while we wait?" Rúben said, slowly moving towards me.

"I don't know" I shrugged. "What they are doing looks interesting."

"It is very interesting. Do you want me to show you?" he replied, now being the one arching an eyebrow.

"Go ahead" I said as he lifted me up and sat me on the kitchen's counter, my legs around him.

"Comfortable?"

"My butt is getting a bit cold"

"Then I better start making you hot" he said before kissing me.

"Wow, wow, wow" Lucy said behind us. "Not in my kitchen!"

"We haven't had time to do anything. Yet" Rúben said. We had been kissing for less than a minute when she came in. Or at least that was what it felt like.

"Good. It's time to go, come on."

"Already done with your make out session?" Rúben asked, helping me get down from the counter.

"I'm afraid so" she replied.

"At least they got to enjoy one" I said to myself.

"I heard you" Rúben whispered to my ear as we followed Lucy into the living room, pinching my butt and making me jump.

"Everything ok?" Rodri asked.

"Peachy" Rúben said, laughing at his own joke.

"Will I get to see you tomorrow?" Lucy said, hugging Rodri.

"Not sure. We need to be focused, remember?"

"Meh, meh, meh" she replied. "No sé cómo voy a sobrevivir a esta noche sabiendo que vas a estar durmiendo al otro lado de esa pared y que no podemos estar juntos."

"Si ella puede sobrevivir todos los días, tú también" Rodri said, kissing Lucy's nose.

"What did they say about you?" Rúben asked me. "I only understood half of it."

"Lucy was complaining about knowing that he was going to be sleeping on the other side of that wall and not being able to be together. And Rodri said that if I could do it daily, so could she."

"Have you ever felt like that? Like... Wanting to be with me, knowing that there was just a wall between us, but not being able to?"

"Yes, sometimes. Especially when you were mad at me."

"I was never mad at you. Pissed, definitely. But not angry. You didn't do anything wrong" he said, putting a lock of hair behind my ear and looking at me in a way he hadn’t before.

"Sorry for ruining the moment, guys. But we were going, right?" Rodri said.

"Sadly" Lucy sighed.

"Sadly" I repeated, though only Rúben heard me.

"Good night, neighbour" he said, kissing my cheek. "Don't stay up until late gossiping about us."

"Never" Lucy said, giving Rodri one last hug before we watched them both leave.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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odyssean-flower · 7 months

Text

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

Previous | Next

A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #my works #the winding path of fate

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rosewaterandivy · 6 months

Text

Epilogue | for once in my life

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C: 5.7k

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, yearning, Tuscan summers, a flashback or two, a wedding, and my usual filth™️

A/N: Thanks for bearing with me while I worked on an ending for our two beloved idiots. 🥺 Truthfully, part of me put off writing the epilogue simply because I didn’t want to let Trouble and Steve go— they’re so near and dear to me! But, all good things must come to an end and I hope I’ve given them a fitting one. Thank you all for reading along and sharing your joy with me, it’s been incredible to experience! 💜💜💜

Series masterlist | Series Playlist | trouble will find me (for Trouble, most ardently) | rebel without a clue (for Steve, with love)

The distance was difficult, only mitigated by the positively unreal Tuscan summer. Though the university was in Bologna in the Emilia-Romagna region, since your classes centered on Dante, you along with a few other students, called Florence your home away from home for the summer.

The sun shone bright and hot against the ancient stones of Palazzo Medici Riccardi, and felt good against your back as you lazed in the garden and courtyard on a rare day off from combing through medieval texts in jam-packed libraries and dust motes floating through the air.

Crossing the bustling street you popped into your local gelateria only to be greeted with an exuberant, “Bella!” from Alessandro behind the counter. “Finally you grace us with your presence,” He teases, already scooping out a serving of arancia rossa sorbetto for you into a cup.

“Grazie,” You say with a smile, taking the sorbetto from his outstretched hand. “Had a slow start to the morning is all, Sandro.”

“Certo, I know how it is,” He says with a knowing wink.

To be fair, the slow start to the day was warranted, given the stress-induced dream you had last night. There you were, minding your own business, thinking about Steve and the voice note he’d left you earlier, and the next thing you know, your brain decided a trip down memory lane was warranted.

“But what do I do about the dress?” Your voice is choked, tongue stumbling over the words.

It hangs in your closet, mocking you. A pink dust bag with an elegant calligraphy card that lists your former wedding date and ex-fiancé’s last name. Robin’s fingers graze the zipper on the garment bag, fingers slowly settling along the pull.

“You could try it on?”

She says it as if she wishes she didn’t have to, as if the next time you would put on the wedding dress would be for the alteration appointment which you had already canceled, along with everything else.

Truthfully, the day you found the dress wasn’t at all what you expected it to be. Sure, you’d looked around online and at a few boutiques with Nancy, Robin, your mother, and would-be mother-in-law. Nothing struck your fancy though, each dress you slipped on had something wrong with it— too tight, too loose, too many embellishments, not enough embellishments, too heavy...

It was Steve who suggested the boutique, actually. One of his mother’s friends had a daughter who’d gotten her dress from a place in Indianapolis and said the service and selection were both top-notch. So you went and made a day trip out of it; Eddie and Steve would drop you and the girls off at the boutique and hang out in the city for the day.

Though, they really did try to weasel their way in to the appointment.

“The fact that you won’t let us join you is misandry.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “No, it isn’t, Eds!”

“Okay,” he relents, turning around to face you in the backseat, “Maybe not misandry, but definitely discriminatory. Dudes just wanna have fun!”

Steve laughs, pulling up in front of the boutique, waves to your mother who’s waiting on the sidewalk. “Y’never know,” he teases, “Could need a second opinion in there. Especially once they open the champagne.”

Eddie squawks at that, “You get to try on dresses and drink booze? I’m offended I’ve been left out here.”

Robin opens the backdoor with a roll of her eyes, “No boys allowed, dingus.”

You follow suit, giving Steve a small smile, “Thanks for driving us.”

His gaze softens, eyes meeting yours, “Happy to help. Now, go find a stunner in there for us, will ya?”

With a shake of your head, you bring yourself back to the moment. Sitting on the floor of your former home, moving boxes and tape littering the floor ready for you to pack up the pieces of your life. You look to Robin again, she’s unzipped the garment bag entirely revealing the bodice and skirt of the gown.

She watches you thoughtfully, “I mean, just to see if you still like it? That way we’ll know if we need to pack it or sell it.”

Sighing, you wipe your damp palms against your thighs and stand up. “Yeah,” you breathe, “Okay.”

Between the two of you, you managed to wrestle into the dress. Robin securing the delicate straps as you adjust the cups and situate yourself. The door creaks open to reveal Nancy, her eyes bright with interest.

Robin gives up with her attempts to fix the zipper and numerous buttons on the back, steps aside for Nancy to intervene.

“You’re gorgeous, babe,” Robin says, voice soft. “It looks amazing on you! Same as the day we found it.”

“It’s one hell of a dress.” Nancy agrees, the zipper pull sliding home. “No one would say no to you in that.”

Your laugh comes out as a choked thing, wet and raspy. You wipe your eyes in an effort to prevent any tears from falling. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t even have to see the dress to know that he no longer wanted you.

“Thanks, guys.”

Feeling brave enough to look at the mirror, you pause in perusal. And sure enough, it’s a stunner. Delicate lace embellished the corseted bodice, waist nipped just enough to amplify the bust. The skirt flowed down in layers of silk and tulle, the lace accenting the frothy peaks and valleys of it.

Turning, you noticed the low-dip of the back, highlighted by the beginnings of the train. It was a gown meant for a cathedral wedding, a long aisle as you walked toward the altar. A beautiful wedding dress for a wedding that no longer was.

It was getting difficult to justify keeping it.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, bursting into the room slack-jawed, “Your tits look great!”

Robin smacks him, “No boys allowed, dingus!”

“Yeah, Eddie, don’t you know what a closed door means?”

He grins, “I think we know by now that, no, I clearly do not.”

Hearing footsteps coming down the hall, you turn to Nancy eyes wide. “Nance, the door–”

She shuts it quickly, keeping a hand on the knob. Robin and Eddie stop their bickering long enough to share a meaningful glance. You fist the full of the skirt in both hands and motion for Robin’s help in getting the dress off.

“Uh.” Steve says, voice muffled through the closed door, “What’s going on in there?”

“Nothing!” You’re quick to respond, trying and failing to keep the panic from your voice, “Just packing up some stuff.”

“Riiiight.” He drawls, “Then do I hear Eddie in there talking about tits?”

“Hey man,” Eddie says in his own defense. “I just wandered in here, I know nothing.”

“And why is the door locked?”

Nance’s eyes go to the doorknob as it jiggles in her hand. “We’re trying to figure out what to do with the dress,” she says in a breathless rush.

If looks could kill, Nancy would have dropped to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her and turn with a huff.

“What dress— t-the wedding dress?”

“Yes, Steve.” Robin sighs. “That’s the one.”

The doorknob swivels again, “C’mon, just open the door guys. Eddie’s seen it and I am officially the only one who hasn’t.”

“No!” You shout.

Everyone stops to look at you, eyes wide.

“I mean,” you sputter indignantly, stepping out of the dress and throwing on your overly large t-shirt. “S’not a big deal, I’ll probably sell it, anyway.”

Robin and Eddie maneuver it back into the garment bag with a zip just as Nancy steps away from the door, gaze soft taking in your drawn face.

Steve stumbles in soon after to find you, pants-less, the hem on your shirt grazing your bare thighs, furiously taping boxes closed and scribbling in sharpie.

“Nothing to see here!” You say, stumbling into your bike shorts, tugging them back up. “No siree, nothing at all.”

His chest falls slightly, looking from you to the pink garment bag and back again. Robin catches the minute change in his expression before he’s picking up a box and carrying it out into the hall, not a word to be said about the dress.

And all that runs through your mind is a frantic buzz of ‘It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress.’ Never mind that you were no longer a bride and Steve was never your intended groom. Any rational know-how kicked from your thoughts in an echo of your hammering heart.

Why your exhausted brain conjured up that particular episode, you had no idea. The instance was promptly forgotten, the dress stored at your parent’s place, and Steve never brought it up again.

Thank God for that.

Maybe it was because of Nancy and Jonathan’s looming nuptials. He’d popped the question not long after Nance moved in, and it had been full-steam ahead since March. The ceremony was to happen at the end of summer, just as your intensive was wrapping up.

She’d nearly had a coronary when you’d expressed your doubts about being able to attend.

“I’m not getting married without you Trouble, so sweet-talk those profs into letting you sit your exams early and get the fuck back home.” She sighs down the line, “There’s only so much of moping Steve we can take— Eddie is about ready to strangle him.”

You huff a laugh, “Yeah, I’m surprised he’s held out this long.”

“Yeah, she agrees dryly, "We all know you two'll take any excuse to get Steve in a headlock.”

“I don’t need an excuse,” You scoff. “That punk needs to be put in his place.”

You’d taken up Nance on her no-nonsense advice and your professors had graciously allowed you to submit your final papers early in order to make the wedding. Unfortunately, you’d miss out on a few of the celebrations like the bridal shower, bachelorette party, and rehearsal dinner— your flight would be landing just as the festivities began— but, Nancy and Jonathan had agreed to help you surprise the gang.

For all Robin, Eddie, and Steve knew there was absolutely, positively no way you could get out of your scheduled final exams. It sucked, as Robin rightfully pointed out, that you’d have to miss your best friend’s wedding but they all understood.

Steve was more hangdog about it than ever.

“Thanks Sandro,” You call out, plastic spoon in your mouth as you quickly step out the door, leaving a €5 note on the counter before he could stop you with a, “Your money is no good here, bella!”

Your phone buzzes in your bag, ducking under an awning your scramble through your well-worn tote bag to find it, throwing your sunglasses on in the process.

“Hey Fratty light,” You greet with a smile, spooning another cool helping of blood orange flavored ice into your mouth. “Do any good keg stands lately?”

Steve’s laugh nearly eclipses the warmth of the sun on your skin, a surge of heat building low in your stomach.

“At least I didn’t fall off the keg.”

“That was one time!” You scoff, jogging across the street before an aggressive Vespa can mow you down. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you give the driver the ombrello gesture and shout, “Vaffanculo!”

He chuckles at your outburst, “Tell ‘em babe!”

“I’ll have you know, I stuck that landing Harrington and, it was quite the crowd-pleaser if I recall.”

“Sure Trouble,” You can nearly hear the eye roll at your expense, “It was the landing and not the fact that you were wearing those panties.”

The fact that he remembered the pair in question has you reeling, you nearly run into a fellow pedestrian in your dazed state.

“Anyway,” You say, cleaning your throat. “What’s on the sad boy agenda for today? Getting into divorced dad rock, any Matchbox-20 or Creed in your future?”

“God, you’re awful, and no, thanks very much.”

You hear a door slam and a car engine turn over. Someone muttering about Steve’s ‘utter lack of taste’ in music— Eddie, without a doubt.

He sighs down the line, pulling on your heartstrings because you miss them all so damn much, but Steve most of all.

“Just helping with some wedding stuff.” His voice is softer, sadder knowing you won’t be there to celebrate with them. “Boring shit, you know.”

You hum in agreement, “Well I’ll let you get to it. Don’t let Eddie flirt with too many bridesmaids!”

“You got it, chief,” Steve says, “Take care of yourself babe.”

“You too, big boy.” A huff of laughter at hearing his scoff, “Byyyeeee.”

And maybe it happens like Nance said it would, things just fall into place when they’re meant to.

After a flight from hell— a toddler would not, for love or money, stop kicking the back of your seat on the evening flight from Milan to Berlin, and you were stuck in the backmost row from Berlin to Indianapolis on the red-eye. It was a miracle you rolled up to your parents' house in one piece. You’d arrive at the venue to get ready with the rest of the bridal party where you’d hopefully be able to keep Robin sworn to secrecy.

You weren’t above putting her into a headlock, if it came down to it.

Dress, shoes, and make-up bag hastily thrown in your mom’s car, you drove to the venue just outside of Hawkins. A lovely little outdoor property owned by a local family, groves of trees and the finest collection of wildflowers you’d ever seen— fitting for Nancy and Jonathan.

You arrive in a slightly mussed frenzy, arms weighed down with your bridesmaid dress and a weekend bag that did fuck-all to protect you from the sudden onslaught of summer rain. Cursing the permeability of Indiana summers, you walk swiftly toward the bridal cottage.

The squelch of your shoes and drops of rain accompany you across the tiled path. Breathe. A steady inhale pulls the comforting scent of petrichor to your lungs, tucked safely behind the cage of your ribs. A shift in the light, a cloud makes way for the sun to shine once more; you scramble for the club masters perched on your head, impossibly tangled (of course) in a damp nest of hair.

Pried free, you rest the glasses against your nose bridge and stroll to the door. Before you can wrestle a hand free to knock, the door swings open to reveal a tipsy Vickie and bemused Nancy. A smirk settles on your lips as the two shuffle you into the cottage, tutting at the state of your hair and general tardiness.

“It is a wedding y’know,” Vickie teases grabbing the canvas bag from you. “Could make an effort to be on time.” She drops a wink your way before absconding toward the vanity table to deliver your belongings elsewhere.

Nancy huffs and rolls her eyes, taking the dresses from your arm. “Ignore her,” she soothes, “Seems the title of temporary co-M.O.H. has gone straight to her head.” She shoves a flute of champagne into your empty hand and leads you inside. “But you’re here, so the title can rightfully fall to you.”

“And how is the blushing bride?” You smile, taking in her cool, calm demeanor.

She’s notoriously hard to ruffle, so you’re not surprised to find Nancy the same as ever, albeit a tad buzzed from the champagne.

“Fuck a duck!” Robin shouts, colliding with part of the doorway as she takes the corner to quickly in her haste to get to you, having heard your voice from down the hall. She trips falling into you in a quasi-hug that’s mostly all elbows jabbed into your ribs.

“Walk with dignity, you overgrown toddler,” You laugh sipping some champagne, wrapping your arm around her in a proper hug. She buries her face into your neck with a smile. “And before you even ask, no you cannot, under any circumstance, tell your emotional support Steve about this.”

You feel her frown before she pulls back from you, “I can keep a secret y’know.”

“I don’t doubt it Bucks, just wanna surprise him is all.”

“He has no idea? Oh shit, this is gonna be good.” She says with a cackle before trotting off to help Vickie with her dress.

“Alright Wheels,” You announce polishing off your flute of champagne, “Let me at it, where’s the hairspray?”

After furious coating of L’Oreal’s finest to her hair after you’d secured a few flowers in place, you cough in a haze of hairspray and sagely advise, “That’s good for three slow dances, two fast ones, and one Lambada…” You warn, capping the canister to set it aside. “But if you wanna mosh, I’d suggest another coat.”

Nancy laughs at the suggestion, “I think we’re good.” She checks your handiwork in the mirror with a smile, “Can I ask you something Trouble?”

“Shoot.”

She turns to face you and lowers her voice to a whisper while the other bridesmaids are busy with false eyelashes and zipping up dresses. “Have you given any thought to what I said back in May?”

Ah, that conversation. The one where she (lovingly) warned you off of Steve if you weren’t certain about your feelings for him. Your big, overwhelming feelings. As if you could forget them, even thousands of miles away.

“You know,” You begin, voice pitched to meet hers, “I had a bit of time to think over the summer, no distractions, just me and the Tuscan sun.”

She stands to slip into her dress and you follow to assist— it’s a beautiful number, all minimal sleek lines and fitted to her like a glove. Nancy is gorgeous, but Nancy on her wedding day is otherworldly. She dutifully turns for you to button up the back and arrange the train for photos.

“And?”

Your eyes meet in the mirror, hers curious but not prying, yours wide, reeling from it all— the pro/con lists, numerous conversations with your mom, Eddie, and Nance, the letters, emails, voice notes, calls and texts from Steve. Somehow, some way they all amounted to this:

“You remember my twenty-first birthday?”

“How could I forget,” She chuckles knowingly, “Spin the bottle, right?”

A nod, you busy yourself smoothing out the few lines in the silhouette of the dress. “And a bit of liquid courage.”

There is no good reason why the eight of you should be doing this. Back at the loft after a night of carousing and bar-hopping, imbibed enough complimentary birthday drinks that spin the bottle seemed like a good idea. Even if the bottle in question is some ridiculously expensive high-roller shit swiped from Mr. Harrington’s study.

You’re warm, leaning on Eddie’s shoulder and whispering in his ear— goading him about kissing someone. Steve hopes it’s not you.

The glass mouth of the bottle spins to a stop in front of Jonathan who groans loudly before clambering over the whoops and hollers.

“Lay it on ‘im Munson!”

You tip backwards and shriek in glee when their lips touch. Eddie returns to your side with a roll of his eyes, pokes your knee with his finger. “Pucker up, buttercup. You’re next.”

Argyle cracks his knuckles, taps his chin thoughtfully, “Alright chica.” He says, “Hope you get Nance or Vic. Make it nice and steamy up in here.”

Steve hopes it’s him and not Nancy, selfishly. The rest of them be damned, if the bottle lands on him he’s going to frog-leap over Eddie, shove him to the side and kiss you good. If it lands on anyone else, he may get arrested for murder tonight.

There’s really no excuse for it— the longing. Best friends since childhood who drifted apart because, as always, he was a dumbass. Kissed you all of one time after the Homecoming dance freshman year and that was barely a peck.

The bottle lands on Vickie.

Slightly tipsy and putting on a show, you bite your bottom lip and lean in, slanting your mouth over hers with a soft sigh. The sound sinks into Steve’s gut and he groans in agony— jealous you’d rather kiss his ex or the redhead rather than him. Nevermind that the bottle was nowhere near landing on him.

“Keep it PG, ladies!” Robin calls, “This is taking way too long!”

“Bucks, shut up. I’m trying to take a video.” Nancy slaps the phone from Eddie’s hand.

Having had enough of it all, Steve stands. “Not that this isn’t how I want to spend my night…” he mumbles, hands patting his thighs. “But I’m peacing out.”

You look up, distracted, and bottom lip a little wet from Vickie, eyes hazy from the long night of celebrating, and quirk your head. “You leavin’, Stevie? Wan’ me to walk you?”

“What— like he’s gonna get lost from here to his room?”

Steve is going to get arrested tonight for murdering Eddie. Tries to keep his cool, regardless.

“S’okay birthday girl, I’ll be fine. You have fun.”

You hop up anyway, a bit blundering in your step, and grab his hand to yank him forward. “C’mon… I gotcha.” Fortified with liquor, you tug him along, turning a corner and chattering about how as much as you appreciate that expensive whiskey, you’d rather have a beer. There’s nothing better than some pretzels, beer, and a movie.

“Oh, uh, s-sorry.” Your hand loosens before you pull it away, self-consciously.

“For what?”

“I know we haven’t been, like, close for a while now. I didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

Oh. The realization dawns on him now, like a crash of lightning— you think he’s guarded… but he’s only been reserved for your sake.

He calls your name, followed by a murmured, “C’mere for a second.”

You lean against his bedroom door, dazed but curious. Steve steps forward until you’re nearly chest to chest, back against the wood. Your mouth opens with a nearly inaudible gasp, but he can see your pulse kick up in your throat. “Yeah?”

"You remember our first kiss?" He waits for you to nod before continuing. "I think I owe you a do-over."

Confusion flits across your face, a solitary brow quirked up in interest. "You wanna mulligan my first kiss, like... seven years after the fact?"

He ducks his chin in embarrassment, skin flushing with heat. "Yeah, I mean, if you're open to it?" He scratches the back of his neck and mumbles, "I just think you deserve better."

You bite your lip in thought, and Steve wants nothing more than to shrivel up and die— but then, you nod, and before he can think better of it, he takes his chance.

Purposefully, Steve tilts your face up fingers, trailing along your chin and jaw, thumbing the full of your bottom lip. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, all whooshes and erratic beats, almost enough to drown out the words that fall from his lips.

And then, the perfect genius that is Steve Harrington leans down to close the distance between you. Satisfied that your face is tilted just so, his hand sweeps back your hair to cradle your head as his lips descend to yours.

He kisses you like he’s got all the time in world— like it isn’t past three in the morning and you’re about a minute from slipping under. He kisses lazy, slow, and sublime. Presses you closer to him, an arm winding around your waist to pull you from the wall. More, kissing—tongues and lips and teeth— more of that touch you’ve only dreamed about and you want to kick yourself for missing it, for even daring to fantasize when the real thing is so much more.

Your palms are on his chest, pawing at him for leverage, struggling to refrain from bucking your hips up into him like you so desperately want to do. Steve pulls back with a contented sigh, and you’re surprised there isn’t a string of saliva strung between the pair of your for all the swapping spit that just occurred. There’s nothing but you and him. His gaze, so tentative and sweet, meets yours briefly as he stands back hands shoved quickly into his pockets.

“I meant something like that.”

Your mouth tugs at a corner, as if you could laugh or cry. Or smile.

Steve lets out a breathy chuckle, brandishes a small, hopeful smile, and runs a hand through his hair.

You nod. And it’s enough.

“I–I think I’ve known for a while.” You admit sheepishly, looking for any last-minute adjustments that need to be made before the precessional. One hand grasping her train, you follow Nancy toward the door. Taking a shaky breath in, you say, "Guess some part of me has been in love with him since I fell off the fence and into his backyard that first summer."

She stops short and turns back to you elated because she knows the story all too well. Steve doesn't get drunk enough to talk about it often–- the man has a wooden leg, hand to god. But once in a blue moon, it'll happen: how the new neighbor's daughter nearly busted her ass sneaking back home way after her curfew, too buzzed on shitty wine coolers and reeking of weed to realize that she'd fallen on the wrong side of the fence.

Hastily, Robin thrusts a bouquet of flowers into Nancy’s hand. Just before the band starts up, Nancy gives your hand a squeeze and advises, “Sometimes what’s meant for you comes back, Trouble. Don’t let it slip by, okay?”

Steve is just looking to survive the day, he’ll be grateful to get through, honestly.

He was beyond bummed you couldn’t be there for Nance’s wedding and that he’d be sitting with her cousin instead— she’d talked his ear off during the rehearsal dinner last night about her current rewatch of Sex and The City. He’d never been so relieved to be pulled into bridal party duties by Eddie than he was that night.

And, to top it off, you weren’t answering your phone. Logically, he knew you’d be in exams for most of the day but you normally sent him a text or voice note once you woke up or before you made it to class for the day.

He’s pathetic. Eddie forced him to leave his phone in the groom’s suite and now he feels phantom vibrations from something that isn’t even in his pocket. Heaving a sigh, he lines up ready to escort Vickie and mentally preparing himself for a detailed recounting of the havoc that Samantha’s absence has caused the SATC franchise from the Wheeler cousin.

“You know,” A lazy, familiar voice drawls to his right, “If I was a riptide, I wouldn’t take you out.” An arm loops through his, comfortable and intimate.

But no— it couldn’t possibly be…

“Hey, Harrington.” You say, quietly, knocking your hips to his, casually holding a bouquet in your hand, all easy smiles and warm touches. When Steve finally does turn, he blinks a few times to confirm that you're not some hallucination.

Because you’re here, impossibly, you’re home, and everything is finally right in the world.

You reach over to straighten his tie, the alexandrite ring gleaming on your right hand and catching the light.

“How did you—” He stammers, bereft of language.

But then there’s that smirk he adores. “Some of us are stealthy, y’know. Like a ninja.”

“Oh, fuck me right in the mouth.” He laughs loud and bright, a few people turn back in their chairs to look.

You sputter briefly as the precessional begins, hand lighting on his arm with a gentle squeeze. “Uh, that can certainly be arranged, Harrington.”

In that moment he knew, with a certain sense of finality, that he had no choice but to love you; all his love and, if he’s being honest, fear, reflected there in your eyes.

The ceremony is beautiful, of course, and the reception is now in full swing. The new Mr. and Mrs. Byers shared an adorable first dance to “At Last” by Ella Fitzgerald, which nearly had you tearing up before Steve twirled you out onto the dancefloor.

“Hey, good lookin’,” He says with a smile so sweet, it almost makes you weak in the knees.

It’s a slow song, something to get the couples up and out of their seats. Over his shoulder you spy Robin and Vickie making goony eyes at eachother while Eddie and Argyle stumble around both trying to lead the other— idiots.

“Hi, Steve.” You reply, eyes making their way back to him. “Y’know, they say you should never trust a man who can dance.”

“And why’s that, honey?”

You shrug, “Dunno. Apparently they’re all heartbreakers or something.”

Steve, thanks to his mother’s needling and his father’s need to keep up appearances, could dance. He’d escorted many a debutante, including yourself, during Cotillion. You can still hear Savannah’s nasally “Did you know that five out of six debs marry their escorts?”

But, then again, she was also drinking from the fun flask at the ripe age of sixteen. So, do with that what you will.

He spins you easily, like it’s nothing, and before you know it you’re back in his arms. His brow is furrowed in thought, but what he could possibly be thinking you hadn’t a clue. So you continue to follow his lead across the dance floor and silently thank Mrs. Harrington for forcing you and Steve into those dance classes way back when, even if he stepped on your toes and you retaliated with an accidental elbow to his ribs— knock-kneed teens the pair of you.

So much has changed since then.

The music pauses, as someone announces that the bride will toss the bouquet. You go to find the bar, but Steve promises he’ll come back with a drink for you instead and then Eddie is hustling you toward the crowd of “single ladies.”

“Eds, no.” You attempt to swat him away, but he’s having none of it.

“Far as I know, you and Harrington are fuck buddies. No declarations,” His eyes fall to your left hand, “No ring. Beyoncé would insist, sugar.”

You’ve always had a sixth sense about things. When you were younger, your family and friends often thought it was an ability— but in truth, it’s just a mixture of careful perception, logical thinking, and educated guessing.

But not even your sixth sense could explain how you’d ended up catching the bouquet. Especially with a vodka and tonic in one hand and standing at the rear of the gaggle of gals gathered for the event. Didn’t even want to take part, far more interested in finding the coat check room and seeing how long it would take Steve to blow his load once you finally got your mouth on him.

So it’s a surprise, either luck or Nance’s killer aim, when her bouquet lands in your hand, the ribbon wrapped stems falling neatly into your palm just as you turn to shout something at Eddie behind you. Catching Steve’s knowing smirk and hearing Eddie’s piercing wolf-whistle, you give him an exaggerated wink before tossing back your drink.

It’s not long after that, a few more spins around the dance floor, some cake, and more liquor, tasteful toasts from you and Argyle, fond farewells to the newlyweds and bags thrown into cars for a quick getaway, that Steve tosses you— bouquet in hand, over his shoulder and dips out of there. Ignoring Eddie’s teasing of Irish exits and Irish twins, he sets you on your feet again to lean you against the car and kisses you positively stupid.

But it’s not a surprise when Steve finally asks you the question he’s been dying to for nearly the entire summer on the drive home, Nancy’s bouquet resting against the dash as you toe off your heels.

“Hey mind-reader, how long did it take?”

“Hmm?” Pleasantly sleepy from jet lag, your mind struggles to spark a fuse of comprehension. Steve raises a solitary brow in interest.

"Whaddya mean?" You mumble out between stifled yawns.

His hand rests on your leg while he drives, big and warm, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of your dress. Steve, bless him, won't press you on it, but he also wouldn't have asked something so casually for no reason. He's crafty like a fox when he wants to be.

You take a breath and let yourself really think about it. If you’re taking the question seriously, which you damn well should, he deserves an explanation. Hesitantly, you remind Steve of the near fiasco with the wedding dress back at your old place. He nods at your rambling, how guilty and scared you felt at shutting him out.

“So, yeah, between the moving-in playlist and me being bat-shit terrified of you seeing me in a wedding dress,” You summarize, fingers finding their way to his once more. The warm glow of the streetlights cast shafts of light through the windows. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a window, Steve Harrington," You conclude with a smirk.

His eyes widen in realization, “Oh, so that’s what you were apologizing for before left for Joshua Tree.” An annoyed sigh before a sharp inhale takes its place. “You’re so stupid.”

Back at the loft, fumbling hands in elevators lips spit slick and ruddied, Steve bats away your grabby hands with an exasperated huff as they light upon his chest. Nearly dropping his keys when they find a better way to occupy themselves.

Once inside, he presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collarbones and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs, kicking the door close, and instinctively pulling everything off.

He peels his shirt off and throws it onto the floor while you shimmy out of your dress. His mouth hasn’t left yours for anything other than to breathe.

His hands stop at the curve of your hips. The room is spinning— the entire world moving too fast in a feverish haze. Years of close-quartered friendship and the first intimate touches in months have jumped right into the deep end. You don’t even know when the two of you made way back into his room, but the door clicks shut with a kick from his foot.

“Hey, mind-reader, I got two questions for you,” Steve calls teasingly. “First, how big did you think I was, y'know before? When you accused me of, how did you put it... harboring a fugitive?”

Your brain briefly short-circuits at that, mildly embarrassed. He laughs at your slow, owlish blinks while you formulate a response other than, "Well, I, uh..."

"Okay, okay," He drops a kiss to your brow, soothing your worries away, “Second…”

You gulp. Your legs feel like jelly— all the smart words in the entire world wiped completely from existence. The pause he takes is punishingly long and the grin he gives you nearly makes you faint.

His pants are shucked somewhere near the bedroom door. One of your hands goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

"S'been a while, do you think you can take it?”

“Oh,” A smirk quirks your lips, hand scrabbling for purchase on his tanned skin, “I think you know I can.”

Later, after frenzied forays in tangled sheets and revelling in the afterglow, you place your hand over his chest, selfishly counting his heartbeats.

You breathe, soft and sweet, “Steve,” the sound of your voice a warm balm in the inky dark. “Steve,” You say again and kiss his neck, turning toward you on the rumpled bed he kisses you, as if he could ever get enough.

“I love you.”

He pulls back, just enough so that you wrap your leg around his hips, sheet slipping off as his fingers trail up your thigh. Grazing the tip of his nose ever so lightly against your temple, you feel the rumble of laughter through his chest as it heaves against yours.

Rolls you onto your back, legs falling open to cradle his hips while he holds himself above you, hair falling into his face, “Took you long enough,” he grins, kissing you again. Your cheeks, your jaw, your chin. “I love you too, honey.”

His love is heavy and you delight in the gravity of it as he slips his way back inside, your hands pulling him closer than anyone can ever or will ever get again. It feels fated— the way your body moves and his responds in kind.

Steve only keens your name in reply.

Spun clear out of your body in the haze, pure joy erupts from your mouth, hands scrambling for him, so woozy and giddy you can’t help it.

So this is love, after all.

Finis.

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