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#it is the END of december. and only the other day did i ever see geese leaving
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new hot groupchat discussion topic. The Geese Haven't Left
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rhaenella · 5 months
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idk if ur reqs are open but im obsessed with ur account. i was wondering if u could do a smau of any driver (other than danny ric) x pbr!reader. like shes the only woman to ever compete at NFR in bull riding. shes also 19 and doesnt ride with a helmet (just a cowboy hat) shes also like yhe biggest rodeo barbie you could imagine.
Firstly, I’m sorry it took me so long to get to work on your request, end of the year stuff and other wips got in the way 🫠 Anyways, I decided on Max for this because I almost immediately thought of him and his little Texas outfit 🥰 Also, I have to admit that my (non-American) knowledge of professional bull riding consisted primarily of The Longest Ride so excuse any inaccuracies, but I tried my best to read up on it! That being said, I hope it’s to your liking :) 
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MV1 | Season of Champions
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pairing: max verstappen x pbr!reader
genre: social media au
summary: you and max are each other's biggest supporters as max tries to secure his 3rd world championship title, whilst you're fighting for your 1st in a previously all male dominated sport
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Liked by wagsf1, user3 and 135,092 others
mv.y/nupdates: Tomorrow our girl can secure one of the few select spots in the NFR finals!!! Unfortunately Max can’t be there due to his own race in Qatar, but we’ll be sure to cheer them both on ❤️
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user1: they’re gonna kill it on both sides of the atlantic
user2: POWER COUPLE
user3: omg i hope y/n wins 🙏 she deserves this so much
user4: my alarm is set for 4 am to support y/n 🫡
user5: are you taking a nap between their races??
user4: lol obviously
user5: same 😂 it’s a tough life stanning max & y/n
7 October
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Liked by y/n, mv.y/nupdates and 112,363 others
pbr: y/n y/l/n becomes the first woman in history to qualify for the NFR finals in Las Vegas in December! Congrats on this incredible achievement, y/n. See you in Sin City⚡️
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user6: OMG SHE DID IT ❤️❤️❤️
user7: i’m so proud of her, i’ve literally been here since day 1
user8: remember when she used to do rodeo and everyone told her she could never go into pbr… look at her NOW 🔥
user9: she gave her hat to the little girl in the front row 😭❤️
user10: yep i cried
user11: y/n is not only the best, she is the SWEETEST
8 October
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Liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 805,298 others
y/n: There aren’t words to describe how it feels to finally have my childhood dream come true. I’m not gonna lie, it was a tough road, especially as a female in this industry. Working my way up through rodeo to where I am today: a NFR finalist!! It’s a real pinch me moment… Little me would be ecstatic (just like present me 🙈) To all the other little girls that share the same passion & dream, it’s possible! Never stop believing in yourself ❤️ Now, let’s get that trophy!!!
View all 3,238 comments
maxverstappen1: My girl 😍 You’ve 100% got this 💪
y/n: Thank you baby 🥰 But first, Texas!
landonorris: GET INNN
Liked by y/n
lewishamilton: Legend in the making 🤍
Liked by y/n
user12: you’re gonna inspire so many girls to follow their dreams 🧡
user13: ✨role model✨
user14: soooo… idk if anyone’s seen the other finalists but she’s going to absolutely annihilate the competition just saying
user15: fr, they ain’t ready
8 October
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Liked by user16, user17 and 658,512 others
f1: Howdy, y’all, it’s race week 🤠 Austin, here we come! 🇺🇸
View all 520 comments
y/n: Looking sharp sheriffs!
carlossainz55: Muchas gracias
charles_leclerc: Have to look our best this weekend, don’t we?
y/n: I wonder who for 🤔
charles_leclerc: 😉
user16: UHM FLIRTY MUCH??
user17: easy there sharl, she’s taken 💀
user18: cota the soap opera, i’m here for it
16 October
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Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 778,543 others
y/n: Switching my bull gear for that other bull gear 💙 COTA LET’S GOOO
View all 2,160 comments
maxverstappen1: Blue looks good on you
Liked by y/n
danielricciardo: Yeeeeehaaawwww
redbullracing: Team Bull. Always.
y/n: Hell yeah!!
user19: you can pull off literally anything 😍
user20: y/n is at cota this weekend!!!!!
user21: omfg finally some y/n & max content
user22: we’ve been STARVED
user21: exactly 🥲
user23: GIRL WAIT YOU SWITCHED TO THE CAP??
y/n: Don’t worry!! It was only for the pic 😊
user23: oh thank god
18 October
y/n's story
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Seen by landonorris, alex_albon and 2,436,712 others
19 October
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Liked by y/n, victoriaverstappen and 728,451 others
maxverstappen1: Austin ready 🇺🇸💪
View all 1,934 comments
y/n: There were so many cool hats to choose from but he insisted on wearing mine…😈
landonorris: Initiating the cowboy hat rule just in time before the race… Clever girl
alex_albon: Oooohh everybody watch out
schecoperez: 😂😂😂
y/n: You know it ;)
maxverstappen1: Wait what?
landonorris: Nothing, mate 🤠 You’ll find out soon enough
user24: BYEEEE AHAHAHA
user25: y/n and the whole grid ganging up on max 😭
user26: he’s so oblivious i love it
19 October
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Liked by sophiekumpen, redbullracing and 654,281 others
f1: VERSTAPPEN WINS AT COTA! 🏆
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user27: 🔥🔥🔥
user28: the goat does it again
user29: little sad that max didn’t wear the cowboy hat on the podium tho
user30: lmao y/n is probably as well
22 October
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Liked by maxverstappen1, alex_albon and 768,311 others
y/n: WHAT. A. WEEKEND. 15th win of the season & 50th altogether!!!🥇Proud of you Maxie 😘😘
View all 2,108 comments
maxverstappen1: Love you 😘
user31: MAXIE??? i’m sobbing
user32: i need to know all her nicknames for him NOW
user33: and i need her to be at every one of his races
user34: same she fitted right in with the crew in the pitbox, joking around and everything :’)
user33: truly one of the few wags who are actually into the sport…
22 October
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Liked by y/n, danielricciardo and 734,161 others
maxverstappen1: It’s incredible to win my 50th Grand Prix here today. I feel very proud to achieve this! Amazing job by everyone in the team 👏 And special thank you to y/n, the hat indeed brought us luck!
View all 1,998 comments
y/n: Always trust the hat, you should wear it more often
maxverstappen1: Unfortunately we cannot all break the helmet rules
y/n: 🙄
user35: lmao y/n is like you either die trying or you don’t try at all
user36: she has an aesthetic to look after 💅🏼
y/n: 🤣 You got it!
user36: OMG OMG
user37: BROOO
user38: well at least we’ve got that confirmed now
22 October
y/n's story
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Seen by charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial and 2,766,192 others
23 October
y/n's story
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Seen by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 2,541,384 others
23 October
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Liked by user39, user40 and 31,476 others
mv1jet: Verstappen’s jet just touched ground! 🛬 Nevada, United States of America 🇺🇸
View all 508 comments
user39: oh god everyone get ready
user40: this can only mean 1 thing
user41: MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN, 3-TIME F1 WORLD CHAMPION, COMING TO SUPPORT HIS GIRL AT THE BIGGEST PBR EVENT OF THE YEAR HELLO YES I AM SAT
28 November
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Liked by mv.y/nupdates, pbr and 275,021 others
wranglernfr: Today marks the start of the 65th NFR Finals! Newcomer and fan favorite y/n y/l/n has a good shot at winning the championship this week. However, will she decide to adhere to the mandatory helmet regulations or will she risk disqualification and still wear her self-proclaimed good luck hat? We’ll find out soon, folks. Stay tuned!
View all 1,454 comments
user42: i bet she keeps to her aesthetic
user43: oh def, she basically said it herself already
user44: but but but would they really disqualify her when she wins…??
user45: technically it is against the rules to ride without a helmet during the nfr’s so… yeah they might
user44: 😥😥
user46: please y/n don’t jeopardize it all 😩
2 December
maxverstappen1's story
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Seen by landonorris, schecoperez and 3,014,839 others
11 December
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Liked by maxverstappen1, mv.y/nupdates and 301,294 others
wranglernfr: NFR 2023 Champion y/n y/l/n⚡️Despite sticking to her famous but controversial cowboy hat, y/n becomes the 65th winner in Las Vegas at just nineteen, beating the runnerup and last year’s champion Billy Youngster!
View all 1,778 comments
user47: SHE DID IT!!!! 💪🔥
user48: i’m bursting with pride i’m so happy for her 🥰🥰🥰
mv.y/nupdates: two world champions this is almost too good to be true 😭❤️
user49: their christmas is gonna be one helluva party
user50: well deserved, that billy kid had it coming
user51: he only won last year because of dumb luck!
user52: FACTS
user53: this year we have a winner who’s worthy of the title ❤️
user54: can’t get over how y/n was so far up ahead they literally couldn’t disqualify her for the hat thing lol
user55: imagine if they had, people would have rioted
user54: omg they would have, with max at the front hoisting his pitchfork in the air, leading the pack
user55: 😂😂
11 December
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Liked by maxverstappen1, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,219,748 others
y/n: Cowboy hat + racing gloves = champions of the world 🏆
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maxverstappen1: ❤️
sophiekumpen: So proud of both of you 🥰
victoriaverstappen: Coolest auntie (en oom natuurlijk🙊)!!!
Liked by y/n
landonorris: Congrats on making champion, champ!!! And wow… Max has got his own hat 👀
y/n: Yup! He deserved it after his triple US win 😍
charles_leclerc: Does this mean that your hat claim has lifted…?
maxverstappen1: Unless you want another inchident, back off
y/n: Uhm... He knows what it means now…
charles_leclerc: 😳
alex_albon: RIP Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc 🪦
Liked by maxverstappen1 and y/n
12 December
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Liked by y/n, landonorris and 1,182,853 others
maxverstappen1: Wear the hat…
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12 December
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a/n: translation of “en oom natuurlijk” > “and uncle ofcourse”
Happy holidays! x
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758 notes · View notes
bookyeom · 3 months
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pairing: vernon x reader word count: 3.7k warnings: angst (she did it y’all!!!!), swearing, kissing, wet!vernon
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Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. Happy Birthday, Bononie!
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kissing in swimming pools by holly humberstone
do you think we were made to last in the coldest of weather? maybe i don’t have to leave so soon you look heavenly in this shade of blue
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Vernonie [8:48pm]: finally back from dinner
Vernonie [8:49pm]: everyone’s gone btw, so i’ll come get u now?
Y/N [8:51pm]: yeye! Just text when ur outside 
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You hear his car before you see it. 
His parents must have kept his old, beat-up car from high school for when he came back for the summer, you muse, and it makes you smile. You’d spent a lot of time in that car, listening to whatever new indie band Vernon had “discovered” that week, or eating take-out in the department store parking lot after hours, or your personal favourite: with the engine shut off at the lookout Vernon had discovered on his way home from work one day, tucked away from most of the world as the two of you reclined in his car seats and looked at the night sky. 
You used to wonder if it was there that you fell in love with him, but the truth is that you loved him long before he showed up at your door at 1am, eyes wide with excitement over his new discovery, and brought you there in your pajamas. 
You still have the hoodie he’d leant you that night in the closet of your childhood bedroom.
Tonight, you shut the door quietly behind you out of habit, twisting the knob so it doesn’t make a sound. You’re long past the days of sneaking out, but your muscle memory won’t quit. 
It’s been eight months since you last saw Vernon. You only came home for two days at Christmas, claiming you couldn’t take that much time off from your part time job, and had managed to avoid him. You had still needed the space from him, then. December had only marked four months since he’d broken your heart, and you weren’t sure at the time if you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. 
The months after Christmas break had finally begun to heal you. Your new semester had started, and you had decided to dive headfirst into both academic and social endeavors instead of wallowing away in your dorm room. You’d finally made new friends, your grades had improved, and while it still hurt to see his name when it popped up across your social media platforms, it wasn’t all you thought about anymore.
Right now, you kind of can’t wait to see him.
“Hi,” you say, breathless, and when Vernon meets your eyes, you know you’re not breathless because of the jog from your front door to his car. 
He looks good. His hair is a bit longer, curling at the ends and falling softly across his forehead, and you think his shoulders have filled out. His jaw is just as sharp, eyelashes just as long, and you immediately wonder how you’d gone so long without him. 
“Hi, stranger,” he says, and you’re terrified that the sound of his voice might tear you apart — but it doesn’t. You hold firm, despite the sound of your heartbeat roaring loud in your ears. It hurts, but it’s a dull ache instead of the sharp pain you’re used to. Seeing him sends a wave of relief through you instead of the dread you’d been half expecting, and you can feel the tension in your chest ease just the slightest bit. You can do this. Because it’s Vernon, and because life sucks without him. 
You stare at each other for a few moments, and then he raises an eyebrow as if in a challenge, and you can’t help it. You break into a smile, and then you’re surging across the middle console and pulling him in for a hug. He laughs against your neck, and you know he’s just as happy to see you as you are him. The hand that was on the steering wheel finds your back, and your eyes fall shut. 
“I missed you,” you say honestly, and you swear you can feel him exhale.
“Yeah,” he says before squeezing you tight, once. Brief, but enough for you to feel it, to understand, as he adds, “Me too.”
You pull back. Vernon puts the car into drive as you click on your seatbelt, and you fall into an easy, comfortable silence as he begins to make the familiar way back to his place. 
When you texted him a few weeks ago, your hands trembling but determined, you hadn’t been sure what he would say. You hadn’t spoken in months.
For a while, you didn’t think you’d ever get over the rejection of last August, but a year away at university had done you good. It was full of distractions; you’d even had a couple of flings here and there. Vernon had texted you a bit at first, because you’d insisted that you were fine, but it had hurt to see his name show up on your phone. You had responded slowly, using any and all excuses to explain away the days that passed without you answering. You’d texted sparingly throughout the year on birthdays and holidays, and you knew he watched your stories the same as you watched his. You knew he knew the real reason why you were distant, but he never pushed. After all, he’d broken your heart, not the other way around. 
Eventually, you had recognized that the distance was helping, and conversations between the two of you had become even more sparse after that. It had been hard — one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do — but you’d needed the space. So when his response to your text a few weeks ago had come quickly and enthusiastically, a Vernon-esque “bet :)” in response to your ask to hang out when you got home for the summer, you had been so relieved that you’d cried. Though you’d known he would never hate you, deep down a small part of you had still been afraid that you’d pushed him away for good.  
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The silence in the car tonight is comfortable, and you’re grateful. Vernon is tapping in tune to the beat on his steering wheel while you hum along in quiet contentment. After a couple of songs that you recognize play in a row, you turn to him in surprise. 
“Is this the playlist I made you for your birthday two years ago?” 
Vernon simply nods, eyes on the road as he makes a turn. “Yeah.” 
“Oh.”
Vernon laughs. “Am I not supposed to listen to it?”
“Just surprised me, that’s all.”
”Okay, weirdo.” 
The conversation moves on, but you don’t forget about it, even as you pull up to Vernon’s childhood home. 
It looks almost exactly the same. You follow Vernon up the steps and to the front door, through the foyer and to the kitchen where you used to help his mom prep for their summer barbecues. He tosses you a bottle of water wordlessly before he’s slipping out the back door without warning, and you trail behind without question. His peculiar mannerisms don’t faze you, even after all this time apart, and that realization brings you a warm sort of comfort.
As soon as you step through the back door and into the warmth of the summer evening air again, you can’t help but smile. This, too, remains unchanged. The heated pool with its blue and white tiled sides; the metal table with its umbrella, a single tip bent out of shape so that it sags just in one small part; the overgrown trees whose leaves spill over the sides of the wooden fence. You’d spent many days and nights here, too. 
You join Vernon, who’s already sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs hung over the sides. 
“Damn, you didn’t waste any time, Sol.” The nickname falls out before you can stop it. It’s been so long since you’ve been around him, since you’ve even let yourself think of him as anything other than Vernon. If he notices your slip up, he doesn’t say.
”It’s hot out,” he points out, simple. “Why wait?” He takes a swig of his own water bottle, and you’re smiling again.
You join him without further comment. 
Quiet settles between the two of you again, which would be fine if you weren't suddenly itching to ask him a million questions. How was his first year of university? How are his parents, his sister? Is his favourite food still carne asada tacos? Does he still only own t-shirts and jeans? Is he… seeing anyone?
Is he happy?
Had he really missed you?
“I’ll be right back.”
You’re surprised when Vernon gets up, barely missing you with the water he sends splashing as he does. But you don’t question him, your legs swinging back and forth in the water. You watch the underwater lights distort in the ripples you make, distracted by the simple movements and your racing thoughts. When you hear him re-emerge, you turn to find him with two towels in hand. Your eyes widen and you frantically shake your head.
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit, Vernon.” And I am not getting into that pool with you in just my underwear.
He pulls something out from under one of the towels, and you recognize it as one of his favourite band tees that he’s had for years. He raises his eyebrows at you, eyes twinkling in a teasing challenge, and you narrow your eyes at him. The smile on his face briefly sends you reeling back — back to before that night last summer when everything changed. Back to when he was just your best friend who liked to tease you for fun, who brought you your favourite ice cream every movie night, who took you to your high school graduation dance even though you knew he would have rathered gouge his eyes out with a spoon. 
Back to when you were in love with him, but he didn’t know yet. 
“Fine,” you say. “I’ll get in.”
He grins, and your chest does a little flip-flop. You forcefully ignore it as you take the shirt from his outstretched hand. He turns around to give you privacy, and you keep your eyes on his turned back as you remove everything except your underwear and his shirt. Though he’s grown up now and wears things that fit him better — you had noticed the bomber jacket in his backseat, and the t-shirt he’s wearing that fits him just right — he used to love things that were three sizes too big. The old, worn shirt just brushes your thighs, but you don’t have time to think anymore about it when he moves to pull his own shirt up and over his head. 
You watch the muscles in his back contract, and you swallow. Don’t go down this road again, you tell yourself. It’s just going to hurt like hell.
If you’re honest with yourself, you’re starting to wonder if you’d ever really strayed from that path in the first place.
Because when he turns back to you with raised eyebrows and a smile, when he pulls you with him by the hand, it hits you with as much force as the cool water you jump into. And when you resurface and your eyes find him already looking back at you, his hair sticking up every which way and water dripping from his lashes down onto his cheeks, it hits you again.
That you don’t know if there will ever be anyone else for you but him.
You turn away from him, running your hands through your hair, trying desperately to keep your cool. You feel like you’re being punched in the stomach, like that sharp pain you’d felt since last August had never left. You thought you were ready to see him again, and you had been so, so wrong. 
You can feel all those months of mending, of trying desperately to get over your feelings for him so you could have him back in your life — you can feel them as they slip away. 
“I’m sorry,” was all he’d said that night, and your heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. You could tell through blurry eyes that he was hurting, too, because he loved you, you knew he did. Just not like that. He hadn’t said anything else, even though it looked like he wanted to, and you just didn’t understand. You thought for sure that he felt the same, because he’d kissed you back, because you knew him just as well as he knew you. 
And it really felt like you’d healed. Just an hour ago, you’d even been excited to see him again.
You will yourself to breathe.
“Hey. I’m sorry I pulled you in with me.”
You don’t respond.
“Are you okay?”
You don’t answer as his voice breaks through your racing thoughts, your back still turned to him. 
“…Y/N?”
He sounds concerned, like he cares. You know he does — know that he always has. And it hurts.
You can feel the water moving behind you when you still don’t respond. You can feel it as he takes a step or two closer, and you can almost imagine the look on his face as he tries to figure out what he did wrong. You feel like you’ve been burned when he reaches for you, when his hand tries to find your arm to turn you back to him. You can hear his inhale when you flinch away, your skin on fire where his fingertips just barely brushed your shoulder.
He tries again, because he loves you. Because he loves you — but not like that. “Talk to me?”
Your eyes squeeze shut, and you take a deep breath. You know you have to face him in order to get through this, to leave here in one piece even if it’s by pretending. You have to. You don’t want him to know, don’t want him to know that you’re still the reason you can’t be close to him, that you still love him, that you probably never stopped. 
But when you turn to find him right there, find him so close, when you see that his eyes are full of worry, you can’t find a single word. He looks beautiful in the dim blue light of the pool, and it makes your heart ache.
“Y/N.” Your name is nothing but a whispered breath as he says it, his eyes locked so intently on your face that you suddenly feel warm all over despite the slight chill of the water. His gaze pierces through you, and you watch as it travels across your face, down to your lips, where it lingers. 
You’re not sure you’re breathing, not sure what to do, not sure how to possibly move on from what feels impossible. Why isn’t he moving away? Why is he so close? 
“I…” He tries again, eyes still on your mouth. Then he snaps his gaze up again. “I’m… I’m really happy that you’re here.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “You…”
“I missed you.” He looks hesitant before he says it, but he says it anyway, and your breath catches when you hear the tender, soft tone of his voice. It makes your head spin. “I really missed you. So much.” 
You take a steadying breath at the same time as he does. The air between you feels charged — charged with something you won’t let yourself name.
Then he’s stepping even closer, a hand lifting to your face, and you freeze. You can’t move — you don’t even know if you want to. You’re confused, but you don’t move, and all you can manage to say is a single word.
“Sol,” you caution.
He takes a deep breath in, and then he says, “You haven’t thought about it?” 
His hand is gentle on your jaw, thumb tracing lines back and forth across your skin. You feel goosebumps everywhere he touches. Your eyes search his, trying desperately to understand. You hate that you’re finding him extra hard to read right now — now, when you need to know what he’s thinking more than ever. 
“Thought about what?” Your voice is small, and you hate it.
Vernon’s other hand lifts to your face, tilting your chin up towards him. His eyes search yours as he speaks, his voice low. “Last summer.” He pauses. “Us.”
The words hit you like a truck. 
“What the fuck, Vernon?” You finally manage. You can feel the tears begin to well up, and you pull his hands away from your face. “Don’t you dare.”
He takes a step back, eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry.”
You stare at him incredulously, frustration bubbling to the surface the longer you look at him. “Don’t be an asshole.”
He doesn’t say anything else, and all you can hear is the water gently hitting against the side of the pool. You frustratedly tuck a lock of wet hair behind your ear before crossing your arms.
“Why would you say that to me?” You’re hurt, and he knows it.
“I just…” He searches your face for a moment before he breathes out, “I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time.”
You can feel angry tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. You blink them away rapidly as you spit out, “You were the one who kissed me back and then pretended like nothing happened. You—“
“Would you have gone?”
You blink when he interrupts you, and it takes you a second to try and understand what he means. You wrack your brain, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “What?”
“Would you have gone to school there if I had told you I loved you last summer? Or would you have chosen somewhere closer?”
You’re absolutely dumbfounded as you process what he’s saying. You’re blinking away furious tears, mouth agape as you try and settle on something to say. “Was that your fucking choice to make?”
“I was trying to make it easier for you. It’s your dream school.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “What the fuck? I was in love with you, Vernon!”
“I was in love with you, too!”
The silence is deafening. You stare at him with wide eyes, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it. Then you squeeze your eyes shut, your hands lifting to cover your face as you try and regain your composure. 
“I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us.”
His voice is quiet. You know he’s telling the truth. It hurts, but you know he’s being honest. That he thought he was doing the right thing. 
“I thought that maybe the distance would make it a little easier,” he continues, voice carrying softly across the water in the space between you. “But it didn’t. Not for me.”
Moments pass, and you realize you’re shaking. Your hands stay covering your face as you take deep breaths, waiting until you’ve recovered enough to say, voice low, “I have never been more upset with you than I am right now.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “I know, and I deserve it. I’m sorry that I made that decision for you. I really am. I shouldn’t have done it.”
You nod after a minute, after you force yourself to breathe, letting your hands fall from your face. You can’t look at him, though, eyes instead focusing on your fingers that begin tracing patterns in the water at your sides. “Okay.”
“And I'm…” He trails off, and you wait. He takes so long that you look up to find him looking at you, waiting, and something in his eyes has you stuck there. He searches your face, and then he says, “I’m sorry that I made you think that I don’t love you back. Because of course I do.” 
Your heartbeat has begun to roar in your ears again. “You do, present tense?”
Vernon freezes, eyes wide. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally settles on something. “Shit. Sorry, fuck, I—”
“Is that a yes?”
He inhales sharply. “Yeah — yes. I don’t expect anything from you, though. I promise I’m not —“
“You are such a fucking idiot.” 
He doesn’t hesitate. “I know. I know. I’m—”
“I spent so long figuring out how to put myself back together,” you say softly, and he cuts himself off. You can feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids again. “Without you.” 
Vernon’s shoulders sag, and he nods, looking down at the water. “Yeah.” 
Your breath catches before you steady yourself and you say, “It’s literally always been you, Sol. Even though you’re a fucking idiot.”
His eyes are wide when they shoot back up to meet yours. You inhale a shaky breath, watching as he waits, unsure. 
“It’s still you,” you add quietly, and you’re certain that you hear his breath catch.
“I’m in love with you,” he breathes out before you can say anything else. “I love you back. I did then, and I do now, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I wanted to, I swear. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair as he finishes, “I’m just really fucking sorry.”
“I believe you,” you say softly, because you do. You believe him, and you’re not sure your heart has ever beat this fast. Because he loves you — the same way that you love him. Vernon looks down at the water again, and you think you can see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he thinks. “Sol?”
Your soft voice makes him look up. He still looks uncertain, like he doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do. 
“Come here?”
You’re in his arms so fast you can barely process. He’s hugging you so tight against his chest that you can feel the warmth of him through your wet t-shirt, and it sends shivers down your spine. He doesn’t say anything else as he holds you, and neither do you. Your arms are wound around his neck, and you can feel the way his nose nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder. 
You pull back, your hands finding either side of his face. He blinks, slowly, taking in every part of you in the same way that you’re taking in every part of him. You brush away a stray drop of water that falls from his hair down onto his forehead, and you’re certain you’re dreaming. He’s so beautiful, a perfect juxtaposition of sharp edges and soft lines, so… Vernon. 
And he’s gazing at you like you hung all the stars in the sky — because he loves you, in the same way that you love him. 
For the second time in a year, you kiss him first.
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A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the sixth of our Thirteen Valentines in honour of Bononie’s birthday. Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.
Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)
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slavicviking · 5 months
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Yellow
@steddiemicrofic December prompt: pine | wc: 508 | G | cw: none | tags: misunderstandings, pre-Steddie
“Looking good, Nance. Did you do something with your hair?” Nancy did not. She knew for a fact her curls looked worse for wear thanks to the raging wind outside. Steve knew that, too – had to, with his in-depth knowledge of maintaining hair, curls or not. Eddie stiffens next to her. “I’m here to return this,” Nancy pulls out a Breakfast Club tape from her bag with a forced smile. “Great movie choice,” Steve trudges on with otherwise admirable perseverance. The ugly green Family Video creases inelegantly as he leans forward. “I think it sucks,” Eddie jumps in. He grins but Nancy knows him well enough to tell how tense he really is. And isn’t that a wild thought in itself? Nancy would never expect to get along so well with Eddie Munson and yet here he was, dare she say it - her best friend at the moment. Steve lets out a nervous laugh, red dotting his cheeks as his hand ventures out to rub his neck. Robin’s bright eyes keep darting back and forth between two boys, an unreadable look on her face. “This is getting ridiculous,” Nancy says once she slips into the driver seat of her car. Eddie joins her on the other side, uncharacteristically quiet. Her eyebrows drop lower. “He’ll get over it soon. You’ll see.” “I don’t know, Wheeler. He seems pretty dedicated.” The thing is, Nancy’s observant. She pays attention to her close circle of friends, and that includes Steve. Something about this isn’t adding up – the compliments, the showering with attention. And it’s not only because she’s usually left with a morose Eddie, unfairly pining away, in the aftermath. It’s been going on for weeks now. Something’s got to give, eventually, she’s sure. It does, a week later, when Steve Harrington knocks on the Wheelers’ front door in the middle of the day, clad in an ironed shirt and beige khakis. “Here,” he hands her a bouquet of yellow roses. “They’re for you.” She makes a point of not taking them. They hang awkwardly between them until Steve drops his hand with a grimace. “We’re not getting back together,” Nancy tells him bluntly. Steve’s a good guy, he is, but he can be a bit obtuse sometimes. To her surprise, Steve doesn’t deter her. Instead, he blinks. “What?” “It’s sweet that you’re trying,” she tries. “But we wouldn’t work out. We just wouldn’t.” He blinks again. “I don’t-uh. This is awkward.” Understatement if she’s ever seen one. “I don’t want to date you, Nancy,” Steve finally says. He winces before adding. “No offense.” “Then what’s with this?” she points to the flowers. “The compliments? All of it?” He sighs. “I know we didn’t really end on good terms. And your opinion matters to him- I mean, he's just so-” “Him?” Nancy questions before realization dawns on her. “Eddie?” “Wait, does he think I – shit!” Steve’s eyes grow wide as he shoves the flowers into Nancy’s chest and backs out towards the car. “Shit! Sorry, Nance. Gotta go!”
Yellow Roses are the symbol of friendship <3
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diremoone · 6 months
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sweet dedication | g. satoru
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a year after his fight with sukuna, satoru finally gets to enjoy his birthday in peace, with no one but his beloved wife.
w — fluff, post-canon, lots of food :3, i incorporated a doggo sue me, vv short but hopefully sweet 🥰
Happy Birthday, My Beloved Satoru ❤️❤️
[ line divider credit to @/saradika ]
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The last thing Satoru expected to smell coming through the front door of his home was a mixture of cinnamon and cherries. He shrugged off the jacket from his shoulders and curiously stepped further into his home. Upon seeing the kitchen table and every counter, his eyes went wide and mouth fell open.
On the kitchen table was at least four boxes of pizza, chicken wings, fried chicken, and brisket. Towards the end of the table farther fell the front door were sides, like green bean casserole and corn. His mouth began to water, his inner food junkie rearing it’s hungry head.
Across the counters and clearly in the oven were desserts, desserts, and more desserts — apple and cherry pie, cheesecake, fruit kebabs, crepes, mochi, brownies, kikufuku from Sendai. Gosh, what was the occasion?
And then the man sees above the hallway entrance that leads to the other rooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Satoru gapes.
Was it really December 7th?
He checks his phone and his brows raise in surprise. How in the world did he forget?
But you didn’t. You would’ve been the only one available to have made such a feast for him (even if it was mostly sweets), since everyone else was out on missions, still trying to tidy up Japan after the Culling Games’ toll.
He feels his heart swell with love and happiness, happy that you’ve remembered a date that he’s thrown to the side for so many years. He’s happy that you’ve done so much here for him, a genuine showcase of how much you really loved him and knew him by cooking all of his favorites. This must’ve taken you hours and hours to do; this being a clear proclamation of how much you’ve dedicated yourself to him and to knowing him.
“Babe?” he calls out to open air. No response. He’s smart by checking the kitchen first; you’d never leave cooking food unattended.
Satoru’s mouth quirks up into a sweet smile at the sight of passed out, sitting on the kitchen floor with your inseparable corgi Maple snoozing away right next to you. Although he squints at the sight of your neck lolled to the side in the corner of the cabinets. That didn’t look comfortable at all.
He’s not sure if he should take you to bed or wake you up right now. After a moment, he decides the former. But as soon as you’re scooped up and secured against his broad chest, your eyes flutter open. Maple wakes up too, barking and wiggling her butt, happy to see her dad.
“Oh, my god. Satoru!”
He winks. “The one and only baby.”
Your brain has always been fast about remembering all of the events prior to any sort of sleep or nap you’ve had. This time was no different, and he chuckles when you begin to groan and complain about your surprise being ruined.
“God, I can’t believe I fell asleep! How does one even sleep on the kitchen floor. My ass hurts, Jesus,” you complain. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck in embarrassment as he carries you to the couch and sits down with you on his lap. Maple bounds up behind him and miraculously uses her little legs to hop up on the couch. Satoru chuckles and takes a moment to briefly give her belly rubs.
“Thank you for trying to make this day special for me,” your ‘Toru says. It’s sweet, the tone of his voice, filled with love and adoration. “Don’t feel bad. That looks like a lot of cooking you did, so it’s only natural you’d fall asleep at some point. So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”
You grumble but nod anyway. It was true. You’d been awake ever since he’d left earlier this morning, putting the pedal to the floor on your attempt to swamp the love of your life with all of his favorite foods made by hand.
“I love you, Satoru,” you mumble, still tired and sleepy from overextending yourself.
“I love you, too, baby.” His lips press a long kiss to the side of your temple. He pulls away to gaze down into your eyes, chuckles escaping him again at seeing the sleepy haze in them. “Thank you for trying to make my special day special.”
“But I still didn’t get to surprise you,” you complain.
“I wasn’t expecting it when I came home, especially now with everything going on. I think that’s a big enough surprise for me,” he argues. “So come on, cheer up! We have some delicious delicious food to eat made by my sweet, adorable, wonderful wifey-poo! Except the pizza of course!”
You deadpan. “Call me that again and I’ll smash the strawberry shortcake I made as your birthday cake in that expensive jacket you bought last week.”
Satoru gasps dramatically in horror.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
“Not if I eat it first!”
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taglist:
@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu and @/all my satoru lovers also i shouldn’t have taken that nap otherwise this taglist would be longer lmaoo
let’s raise a glass to this man who deserves the entire fucking world
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mavrintarou · 5 months
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[Daddies in December] Hatake Kakashi
Happy New Year! I hope you had a fantastic holiday. I know it's technically January now but I have a few drafts still and I think I can FINALLY get them out. This is long, I just couldn't stop.
Warning: Angst, reconnection, and smut
.
“I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, thank you for taking my class. If you’re in my next class, see you next year.” Kakashi ended his last class for the semester, dismissing his students.
One by one, each of them thanked and complimented him on his class, giving him great feedback.
At last, the door to his class closed and he took a deep breath.
Reaching for his phone in his pocket, he has a few unread messages but none from Y/n.
Ever since she dropped the bomb on him about her pregnancy exactly a week ago, neither has spoken to the other.
Kakashi didn’t exactly take the news well, blurting something he shouldn’t have said and every time he thought about it, he wanted to beat himself up.
“It’s not mine.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. It couldn’t be Kakashi. One, he always wore a condom. Two, he was nearly forty-three and his doctor told him he had low sperm count!
He was not blind to the pain written on her face.
Their last encounter did not end very well.
He used this week as an excuse to get through the semester for his students; now, he must face the consequences.
Day and night, 24/7, Y/n was all he could think about.
He’ll admit that he let his anger get the best of him. He let his past trauma control and dictate his actions towards Y/n, who didn’t deserve any of it.
Kakashi could come up with a million excuses and reasons how it cannot be his child, for one, after his injury during a mission, he was told having any children was no longer an option.
But he couldn’t excuse the fact that she was a virgin when he bedded her and Y/n wasn’t one to have multiple men even if they were officially in a relationship. Their fling was exclusive for the most part. Even if Kakashi had used condoms every time they had sex and had been told he couldn’t have children… there was always a possibility…
He groaned, suddenly remembering a time when they had both just come. Still in a daze of euphoria, he slipped off the filled condom. Only with Y/n, does he ever ejaculate so much. His cock was still erect, oozing with leftover cum.
Kakashi’s eyes glaze over her wet pussy that coated with her wetness.
He had only had raw sex once in his entire life when he was still young and that was the first and the last time he had done so…
But he was so tempted just to be swallowed by Y/n’s hot and tight pussy.
“Just once,” he murmured before slipping his cock, raw, inside of her. Y/n gasped at the same time he groaned, feeling the same bliss of skin on skin. “Just want to be cock-warmed by your pussy…”
Even if he had just allowed her pussy to wrap around his raw cock for a few minutes, that could have resulted in this unplanned pregnancy.
Y/n had no reason to lie to him, she wasn’t one to manipulate and trap him with a child.
He’d known her since she was twelve, he was best friends with her brother who was in the same military unit as him. Who died saving him.  
.
Y/n knew she should have just left the fallen pen on the ground but her determined self wanted to be independent and pick it up.
Now, she was stuck in a crouching position, able to stand back up after successfully grabbing the pen.
Being almost eight months pregnant with twins, with only a solid four weeks left, she was large. Very large.
She gripped the edge of the table, taking deep breaths to build up the strength to stand without peeing in her underwear.
She needed help.
Her assistant Viv was out running a delivery and wouldn’t return for another ten minutes at the earliest. 
“Are you okay?”
Y/n’s head snapped up, eyes meeting the father of her unborn babies. When had he entered her shop? How did she miss the bell ringing at the door? She blinked before looking away embarrassed.
“Why are you down there?” He looked over, frowning.
Taking a deep breath and setting her pride aside, “Kakashi,” she called his name sharply.
“Yes?”
She looked up at him sternly, “I need your help.”
His eyes widen in a flash of panic. “What’s wrong?”
Placing both her hands on the table, she reached out to him, “I can’t get back up, help me.”
Quickly walking around the table, he looked at her, seeing she was crouching down, “are you hurt?”
Y/n shook her head, “no, I just – I just can’t get back up, my belly is too big. Just support me and help me stand.”
Going behind her, Kakashi took her outreached hand and wrapped the other gently below her bulging belly, “slowly…” he cooed lifting her until she could straighten up. As soon as she was back on her feet again she tugged her hand away, walking away from him.
She cleared her throat, wiping her hand on her overalls. “Thank you. What are you doing here?”
Kakashi’s eyes fell on her belly, the last time he saw her was two months ago. “I…” he inhales, “I want to talk.” He noticed her body switching to defense mode, and he took a careful step towards her. “Just talk, that’s all.”
“I’m not sure there is anything to discuss, nothing needs further clarification.” Her tone struggled to stay in control. “You made it clear where you stand.”
Kakashi expected her hostile attitude and gave her a small smile, “you don’t owe me any of your time but I ask kindly, please, can we talk about the baby?”
“No.”
He exhaled softly, she was going to make this difficult for him. “Okay,” he continued to smile at her, “I’ll come back tomorrow and try again.”
She glared at him, and he knew it was meant to make him fear her, but he found her adorable. “My answer will still be no.”
“Then I’ll come back the next day.”
.
The next day, Kakashi returned, with a basket of fruits. The fruits Y/n likes.
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
.
Every day Kakashi returned with a gift and would leave with a sigh and his usual phrase as soon as Y/n turned him down, “okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
He stopped at the door and turned around, “please at least tell me what you would like for me to bring tomorrow. I’m running out of ideas.”
Before Y/n could tell him anything, Viv answered on her behalf, “Takoyaki please!”
Y/n turned her head, giving her a silent serious look.
“Takoyaki tomorrow then,” he waved before leaving.
“Seriously?” Viv groaned, “the man is doing all that to just talk to you. Can you imagine what he would do when you give in?”
Instead of answering her, Y/n turned her heels and headed to the cooler. Viv followed behind her, carrying the bag of chips and snacks. “I have seriously gained weight from all the gifts he has brought in.”
“Then stop eating it,” Y/n answered rather sharply.
“Well, you won’t eat it, so someone has to?”
Y/n ignored her, grabbing a few bundles of bouquets before heading back to the front of the shop.
“How do you guys know each other?”
Sighing, Y/n answered, “I’ve known him since I was twelve, my brother met him in school and since then he’s been pretty much part of the family.” She grabbed a white rose, one of her favorites. “They both enlisted into the military together and were deployed together.” Her breath hitched, “but Kakashi was the only one who returned home alive.”
Viv leaned over to hug her. She knew about her brother’s death and how it had affected her.
Y/n has barely spoken about Kakashi but it did not take much for Viv to put two and two together to confirm, she asked, “he’s the father of your babies?”
It was a long pause before Y/n answered quietly, “yes.”
“It seems like to me, he wants to be part of your life?”
For a second, Y/n zoned out. “He didn’t want us at first.”
“Key word, at first.” Viv clarified, leaning onto the table. “Not trying to create excuses for him but just stating that people can change overnight. He didn’t want you guys at first but what if he wants you guys now?” She stares silently at Y/n before walking away, “people can change and it could start with their actions.”
.
When Kakashi arrives the next day with two orders of Takoyakis, he glances around the shop looking for Y/n.
Viv greets him and answers his silent question, “she’s resting in the office, she kind of had a rough morning.”
“Ah,” Kakashi nodded, passing the bag of Takoyakis to her. “Maybe this might lighten her mood?”
Viv motioned for him to go on ahead to the back room, “it’s the first door to the left.”
Kakashi gently knocked on the door slightly closed door before slowly opening it. He catches sight of Y/n, her back facing towards him. “Hey…” He froze, hearing a sharp gasp.
Y/n moans, a hand clutching her belly.
A loud pop echoes the room followed by the sound of gushing fluid.
“Ah!”
Kakashi reaches Y/n before she can stumble forward. His eyes widen when he sees the floor wet. “Is that…”
“My water… my water just broke…” She gasps, her hand grips tightly around Kakashi’s arms as her contractions begin.
“What’s going on!” Viv burst through the door and gulped, “are the twins coming?”
“Twins?” Kakashi shouted, he looked at Y/n with wide eyes, “you’re expecting twins?”
.
Kakashi has been watching the chests of the two tiny humans rise and fall in one incubator. He had only discovered a few hours ago that all this time, Y/n was carrying twins.
He is now the father of not one, but two babies. A boy and a girl.
They were early by three weeks, his son is slightly smaller than his sister and has been crying from the separation of his sister after the cesarian surgery that the nurse has kept them together.
Y/n was recovering, and sleeping with the help of some medications and he left her alone to go visit the nursery.
The door to the nursery opened and the nurse peeked her head out, “would you like to come hold them?”
Dressed in a gown, Kakashi’s hands trembled as he neared his babies. They were so small.
“Would you like to hold one at a time or both of them?”
“Both,” Kakashi answered in a heartbeat.
He took a seat in the glider and the nurse carefully handled one baby at a time, setting one in each arm. He can feel his throat tightening at the immense emotions swelling within him.
Their hats were removed and after a wash and dry, Kakashi could see their physical traits.
Though it was faint, their hair was visibly silver just like their father's with Y/n’s eye color.
During the surgery, Kakashi kept his gaze and attention on Y/n, he had never felt so useless, unable to take away any of the pain she was feeling.
As soon as the surgery room echoed with the first cry, a tear slid from the corner of Y/n’s eyes. Kakashi reached to wipe it away, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
A second cry echoes the room along with the first baby and together, Kakashi and Y/n sighed in relief.
“Here are your babies!” the nurse carried them over, bringing them close.
Kakashi has never been a sentimental one but before he knew it, his cheeks were wet. Amidst the bustling room, his focus narrowed to the sight of the two infants’ cheeks nestled against the individual who had been nurturing them for the past few months.
He recalled reaching for his phone and capturing an image to cherish the moment.
Once they settled into a private room, the babies were brought back where Y/n got to hold the both of them for the first time. The nurse spent the next hour informing Y/n and Kakashi on how to care for the babies.
“Do you want to try and nurse them?” the nurse asked.
Y/n nodded, her gaze fixed on the two babies in her arms with affectionate eyes.
Kakashi was on the verge of exiting the room to give them some privacy when Y/n remarked, “it’s all right; you can stay.”
He stayed seated at the end of the bed, watching as the nurse helped Y/n untie her gown. He felt his cheeks flush when her breasts were exposed. Kakashi couldn’t help but notice how full and engorged they looked.
“Hey daddy, why don’t you come closer, you could learn a thing or two.” The nurse urges, waving him over.
Kakashi walked around the bed and sat beside Y/n. He tried to keep his heart rate down as he watched his son immediately suckle cutely the moment he tasted the liquid gold. He chuckles, his finger rubbing his chubby cheek.
His daughter remained snoozing. Kakashi reached to nudge her cheek gently, “hey you.” The tiny baby stirred and yawned adorably before whimpering.
Y/n giggled and brought her over to her other breast, urging and cooing the baby to suckle.
As soon as their feeding was over, Y/n was ordered to rest and the babies were brought back to the nursery. Not wanting to disturb Y/n, Kakashi made his way down to the nursery.
Cradling both infants in his arms felt surreal; he had only recently come to terms with the idea of expecting one baby, and now there were two. During the months when he and Y/n were apart, he discreetly acquired various items. However, he hadn’t presented them to Y/n, uncertain of her willingness to accept them.
An unsettling sense persisted with him, urging him to engage in a conversation with Y/n.
Kakashi truly wants to make it work between him and Y/n, not just for the sake of his babies now but because he really cares for her.
.
Y/n hadn’t voiced it yet, but she was thankful for Kakashi’s presence. Even if they are only working together for the sake of their babies.
She thought she would have to go through this all alone, and though she spent most of her pregnancy alone, she didn’t know what happened for Kakashi to change his mind at the last minute.
Whatever the reason was, she wasn’t going to question it because as much as she did not want to admit it, she needed Kakashi.
When she discovered she was expecting twins, she panicked. She had seen a single mother raise one kid and it already made her nervous but just her luck, she was going to be a single mother and raising two.
Y/n didn’t take the initiative to inform Kakashi about expecting twins, especially considering his initial reluctance towards taking responsibility. When the twins were finally born, she anticipated him making a hasty exit.
Upon waking from each hospital nap, her first thought was a concern about being alone in the room, wondering if he had discreetly left with no intention of returning.
It was as though he could sense it; Kakashi would enter her room and greet her with a smile as she awoke. Every time, he would inquire, “do you want to see the babies?”
He stayed with her for the four days of recovery and insisted on taking them home when they were finally released from the hospital.
Y/n was in no position to decline his offer, accepting it with a soft, “yes, please.” The car ride of them four was quiet. The babies slept through, tucked cozily in their car seats.
She didn’t want to assume or expect, she would take whatever Kakashi had to offer.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said quietly as soon as he parked in front of her apartment. She unbuckled her seat belt and froze when he turned off the engine to his car, unbuckling his seat belt as well. “you’re coming… inside?”
“Of course,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone, “you’re not supposed to be carrying anything more than a few pounds, remember?”
Kakashi carried both babies into the apartment, setting them down on the couch before returning to his car to gather the rest of the other items.
While it was just the three of them, Y/n cooed at her two sleeping babies. “Welcome home.”
.
“Kakashi,” Y/n called his name quietly, he turned his head, looking away from his daughter that’s nestled in the crook of his arm. “I appreciate you being here with us.” She inhaled softly, “but you are not obligated in any way to be here.”
It has been three days, three days of Kakashi giving them his undivided attention. He had told her that he would stay a few nights, only leaving home to shower and grab some items before returning.
Due to her cesarean surgery, she had restricted movements, with swift sitting and standing being prohibited. All remaining activities were geared towards minimizing the risk of reopening her wound.
She wouldn’t have been able to relax and stay off her feet if it wasn’t for the help of Kakashi. He had made their meals, handled the babies, and assisted Y/n with tending to her after-birth wound.
“I don’t want…” her voice croaked, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, because you and I both know – “
“I want to be here. I want to be here because I am choosing to be here, not because I’m obligated,” Kakashi clarified softly. He adjusts his daughter in his arms, “I know there is nothing I can do to take back how I had initially reacted to the pregnancy. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. The only thing I can offer you now are my actions, maybe my words.” He scoots closer until he is sitting beside Y/n who is nursing their son. “I want to be with you and the babies. Through it all. I’m not going anywhere and if I am, it is wherever you three are.”
Y/n stares into Kakashi’s eyes, searching, searching for something she knew was not there. “So,” she whispers, “you want to be with us as their father?”
“Yes.” He answered without a second thought. “I want to do the honorable thing and marry you if you allow.”
“For the sake of the babies?”
Kakashi stammered for a second, “well, that too but I want to be a husband to you.”
“Do you… can you love me?”
Silence sat heavy between them before he answered, “I can learn to love you.” He wasn’t sure if the tears that filled her eyes were tears of joy or pain. They pooled at her lower eyelid, refusing to fall down her cheeks. “I – I don’t know how to love, but I can learn. If you can give me a leeway, I’ll learn to love you.”
Y/n turned away so he wouldn’t see her tears fall as she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. “Okay. I’m okay with that.”
.
Nine months have passed and within that time frame, Kakashi proposed in the presence of their two-month-old babies and moved into their place, taking over the spare room beside Y/n.
They formalized their marriage in the presence of an intimate gathering. Despite being married, they maintained separate sleeping quarters. Their connection remains amicable, marked by occasional displays of affection centered around the babies. Their lives persist with the primary emphasis and priority placed on their little ones.
Y/n continued her life running her flower shop and Kakashi resumed teaching at the university.
With two babies, time went by quicker than they anticipated and before they knew it, winter had arrived and Y/n’s business slowed while Kakashi was on winter break.
It was the night of New Year's Eve, the babies had gone to bed at their usual time leaving Kakashi and Y/n alone. Though they spent many nights alone together, it was exceptionally different, considering that their first night together had happened the same day two years ago.
“Did… you want to watch the ball drop with me?” Kakashi asked when Y/n had finished preparing her nightly tea.
Caught off guard Y/n froze for a split second before answering, “sure, if you don’t mind.”
“Never, never with you.”
Her heart fluttered and she turned away to hide her red cheeks. “Wou – would you like a cup of tea too?”
“Please,” he said softly.
When Y/n returned Kakashi had lit a few candles and had two throw blankets out but he was nowhere in the room. At that moment, he exits the baby's room, returning.
“Emi began fussing but she went right back to sleep with the pacifier.” He reached for the cup of tea.
Y/n stepped forward to hand him the cup when she stumbled, the hot tea spilled onto his hand.
“Oh my God!” she shouted, setting the cup on the coffee table before checking his hand. She immediately tugged her shirt, gently drying his hand to inspect the burn. It was red. “Let me go get some toothpaste!”
She returned with some gauze and the tube of toothpaste and quickly applied it all over his hand before bandaging it up. “I’m so sorry…”
“It’s okay,” he murmured.
Y/n looked up at him with worried eyes, not noticing that he had been quiet and allowing her to tend to his wound. He was happy to have this interaction with her.
Kakashi reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Y/n.”
Y/n could melt that instant hearing him call her name, she always loved how he said her name. “Yes?”
“I’m tired of living this way,” his eyes flashed at his choice of words and he quickly corrected himself, “I mean in a way of I am tired of living like we’re strangers but parents to our children.” His eyes search hers, to make sure she didn’t misunderstand his initial words. “I want to be more than a husband to you, I want to be your rock, the person you can rely on.” Kakashi inhales sharply before speaking the next few words. “I want to be someone you love.”
“I do love you, Kakashi,” Y/n replied, “I have loved you for many years since I was probably a teenager.” She rubbed her thumb over his bandaged hand. “You were my first crush and first love. I still love you.” She looked down at his hand, “but you always just saw me as Brian’s little sister.”
With his other hand, Kakashi cupped her face, guiding her to look at him. “It is true, I did see you as Brian’s little cute sister who was so shy when I was around, but when I returned from my first deployment and you were nineteen… a grown woman… believe me when I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in my life since that day.” He closed his eyes and released a deep breath, “then Brian and I were deployed again and that day – “ he choked on his words. “Days before that day, he had said to me – as if he knew his days were counting down, he said to me ‘I know you have something going for Y/n, I see the way you stare at her. I’ve noticed it. If anything ever happens to me, take care of my sister for me, will ‘ya? You’re the only man I trust with her.’” His thumb reached up to swipe the tear that slipped from her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t exactly grow up with love or how to love? I learned how to love and be loved the hard way or no way at all. Please – give me grace… teach me how to love, teach me how to be loved, and teach me how to be in love with you because I don’t want it with anyone else.” He pressed his lips against hers. “I just want you love and I want to love you. Teach me how to love you so that you’ll love me back.”
Y/n threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I love you, Kakashi. I love you and I am in love with you.” She lifts herself to look down at him with a bright smile. “I know you already love me, you show it to me in different ways but I know you love me and our babies.”
“Y/n,” he calls her name huskily.
“Hmm?”
“Please, kiss me…”
Y/n giggles and fulfills his request. Immediately everything around them began to escalate. Kakashi’s hands slipped beneath her shirt, rubbing her back. His fingers fumble with the back of her bra strap. “Kakashi…”
“Sorry, I just… I just miss touching you…”
“No – no please… please touch me. I need you.”
Kakashi groaned, “I need you badly too…”
“But before we have sex – can we share rooms? I… will it be too soon to move into one?” Y/n asked with a tint of pink on her cheeks.
Kakashi smiled, “you have no idea how long I have been dying to share a room with you. I missed you so much.”
“I just thought you didn’t want to sleep with me.”
He shook his head, “no – I wanted to after we got married but I didn’t exactly know how to approach you with that question. I didn’t know if… you wanted your own space still.”
Y/n pecked his lips, “move in, I want you to make love to me every night.”
“You might regret that…”
.
The bed softly creaked against the floor, thrashing against the wall with each slow thrust of Kakashi.
He rolled his hips, grunting each time his cock stroked entirely into her sweet pussy.
“I love you… I have loved you for so long…” His fingers tightened around hers as he pinned them above her head. “I don’t want to waste a second without you anymore…”
“Me too – me too Ka – ashi…” Y/n moaned and gasped, “I’m so close, please –“
Kakashi cut her words with a kiss, his tongue thrusting past her lips to dance with hers. He was close too, it had been too long and he wasn’t going to last much longer.
With deeper rolls of his hips, Kakshi groaned against her mouth as he cums into the condom. He continued to slowly thrust, feeling Y/n’s walls clench and tightly tremble around his cock.
As they came down from their high, Kakashi gazed lovingly down at her. “I might be late but… Happy New Year, I cannot wait to start this year with you and our babies.” Tenderly, he takes her hand, adorned with the wedding ring, and gently kisses it. “I love you, wifey.”
. . .
E/n: Kakashi is so #hearteyes
>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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Champagne problems
Charles Leclerc x reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:language, drinking, crying, just a lot of sadness tbh..
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————————
The season has come to an end, I couldn’t be more relieved. Charles won his third championship, i couldn’t be more relieved about that either.
Its been a tough couple of years for him, he’s been extremely busy. This year more than ever.. we started dating 6 years ago. From the start we had so many plans, so many things we were excited for. Those ideas of relaxing and spending long days in the sun together vanished into thin air the second he promised his father that he would sign with Ferarri. I don’t blame him, how could I ?
Charles was a man who made a promise to his passed father, it would be extremely selfish of me to bring it up. I honestly didn’t feel the need to, my life was perfect in every way. Charles was everything and more. He was caring, compassionate, funny, respectful and extremely romantic.
That brings us to today, the end of the season party. It was quite a formal gathering. With bejeweled cocktail dresses and champagne flowing.
Me and Charles walked in hand-in-hand. He was being nicer than normal, if even possible. We greeted a bunch of people, all of them congratulating Charles with huge smiles and compliments.
I settle down on a wooden chair with a white cushion, my little black dress with gold detailing working perfectly with the colour theme of the party. Carmen and Kika sit next to me, both of them staring at their boyfriends with big smiles. I take a moment to look around the boat, bustling crowds filled the deck, all of them crowding around Charles. He had won the Championship this year. It was his third, for the third year in a row. He had promised me we would start to settle after he reached his goal. We never did, always on the move and always making promises we couldn’t keep.
———— 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗼
“Charles you did not !” I scream, my hands covering my tear filled face. The man I would do anything for stood with a proud posture and a devastatingly beautiful smile on his face. I practically sprinted into his arms, his flannel riding up on my body and exposing my lace underwear.
Charles took me to his family’s lake house, the season was at its end and Ferarri was second on the leaderboard. He had decided to steer clear of the chaos and rather taken me away for a little vacation before Christmas with his family in December. I was over the moon at the thought of spending the whole of November in the cabin with him. What I was not expecting was him buying me a Chevy convertible. It was my dream car, I had brought it up a few times, all black with red leather seats. It was gorgeous, the interior being Ferarri red and the exterior being as black as the night sky. “Thank you Charles, I love it.” I say with a huge smile on my lips, staring deeply into his eyes, I only see my future.
“I love you, Y/n.”
————𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆
My mind goes foggy with all the memories of what we had, I almost don’t realize that Kika was tapping my leg. I blink a few times and smile at the stunning woman in front of me. “Y/n, are you alright? You look a little tense.” Kika was an amazing friend and I appreciated her throughout the years. I look down at her hand on my leg, her diamond ring glistened in the flashing lights of the yacht. Her and Pierre were engaged, the two being absolutely perfect for each other. “Yes, I am. Just excited to go home, is that bad ?” I was happy for Charles, but I was exhausted with this whole thing. I was with him every step of the way and I wasn’t complaining. I loved Charles, more than I have ever loved anyone, I gave up everything for him. My job, my friends back home, my family, in all honesty I gave up my whole life to be by his side. I regret it now, the guilt of leaving everyone and the job I had such a passion for, it was catching up to me. I did not matter beyond Charles and his social bubble. I made new friends and I had everything I could want. but it was all so bittersweet.
“Y/n!” I snap back into reality once more. “Fuck , i’m sorry Kika, I should probably go freshen up.” She gives me a sympathetic look, offering to go with me before I turn her down and make my way to the bathroom. I use the one by the master bedroom, as I know there would not be anyone. This isn’t my first time breaking down on this yacht. It’s actually been a tradition for the last three years. Sulking in the bathroom, my mascara smudged onto my inflamed cheeks. It happens every damn year.
This wasn’t what I wanted, nor was it what I deserved. I was stuck in a loop of race after race and party after party. Charles was a natural, this was his favorite way to pass the time. Noting else really mattered all that much. Except me, i guess. He showed me love and care that I have never experienced before. Even with the back lash i received daily. And not only from fans and supporters, but from friends and family members too. His close family and I were in a verg good place. His mum adored me and his brother and I got along very well. I felt comfortable and loved around them. It was the distant relatives and friends that had their opinions. It never bothered Charles, so much so that he didn’t even think to check if it maybe bothered me. It did, a tremendous amount, actually. But I was stuck in the same loop, for I don’t know how long. I couldn’t leave, but I couldn’t bare the thought of this routine going on for decades. My chevy has stood in a private parking garage for the last three years now, only been driven once when I took Charles along with me to pack up my dorm at med school, quitting that year and deciding to move in with Charles. I would have been a doctor by now, a surgeon actually.
I hear a bottle pop and have no doubt in my mind it’s the bottle of Champagne Charles had brought. I clean myself up and walk out of the bathroom, my tears dried and my hart heavy. As I turn the corner I run into Kika who looks like she’s waiting for me. “Y/n, what’s going on?” She has a very concerned look on her face, I smile at that, appreciating how much she cares. Her hand is once again gripping onto me, her ring taking my attention. “You think he’s going to?” she whispers, a slight frown on her face. That confused me, I thought she would be excited at the idea of me and Charles getting married. I’m not even sure I was. “I don’t kn- ”
“Y/n !” I look over Kika’s shoulder to see Charles on his way over. “I’ve been looking all over for you, where have you been love ?” He exclaims gently, his hand in my lower waist. I instantly feel safe in his embrace, like the world stopped for a second and allowed me to take a deep breath. Kika squeezed my arms and walked over to her fiancé. “Sorry, I was with Kika.” I say hazy. I really needed to get my shit together.
“no need to apologize. Cmon, Arthur wants to do shots.”
I was a few drinks deep when the music switched to a slow song, Charles immediately found me, his arms wrapping around my waist. his head rests gently against the side of my temple, the same temple that was pounding and messing with my ability to stay in the present. “I love you so fucking much Y/n. You do know that right?” Charles pours his heart out. I dropped his hand that was so tightly held in mine. I pinch my eyes shut, finding Pascal looking at me with sorrow filled eyes. I was so fucking confused why people kept looking at me like that.
So i chose to ignore it, I leaned back, looking into Charles’s captivating eyes. “I do, I love you more than anything Charlie.” I smile at him. He kisses me, the kiss is passionate and soft. It almost felt as if I would never see him again. When my eyes opened I looked around and saw that it was only me and Charles left on the dance floor, everyone gathered around us. I frown, looking back at Pascal and Kika they both have worried expressions on their faces, Arthur is taking back glass after glass, with the same panicked expression on his face. But he’s not looking at me, he’s looking behind me. I turn around to be met with the Lorenzo on the other side of the crowd. His expression also mirroring the rest. Fingertips graze my leg and I look down to a hopeful Charles with his mother’s ring in his hands. The world stops, not to give me a deep breath, but to suffocate me. I felt breathless and light headed. It was dead silent, the only sound being Arthur putting the now empty bottle of Dom Perignon on the glass table.
“Y/n you are everything. I have never in my whole life been this inlove, nor have I ever imagined an angel like you to ever grace me with your presence. I cannot imagine myself without yo- ”
“Charles.” I whisper, my breath caught in my throat and my eyes watering. Everything burned, the lights the feeling of his fingers still gripping my leg, the sting in my heart.
“Y/n let me finish, baby. It would be an honor to live up to this speech every day. So if I could just finish it?” He smiles at me. Down on one knee and love circulating in both eyes.
“Charles I-” I choke on my words. “Okay I understand my love, this is a big thing, I’ll skip my shitty speech for now.” I wanted to say something but I felt as if i was going to fall faint right here and die. “Y/n I have loved you for a long time now, and I intend to do so until I die.”
“Will you marry me?”
Complete and utter silence, throughout the whole boat, nobody made a sound. The problem was, I didn’t either.
Charles looked at me with years and years of adoration and love and my heart broke a little more every second I stood still.
“No.” I whisper.
Gasps all around the room, it’s all I could hear. Kika let out a big sigh and Pascal let out a big sob. I could hear curse words being thrown and Charles’s manager saying how I could have been such a lovely bride. I next hear Carlos reply “what a shame she’s fucked in the head.”
“Fuck. I- I’m sorry, I can’t.” I sigh and sob at the same time, hyperventilating almost. Charles dropped the ring out of shock, and I could see his heart was also on the ground, although it was shattered.
I turn away in a complete state and rush towards the street. Quickly climbing into a cab and going home. I pack all the things I could need for a few days before taking off on the next train to God knows where. The train is silent and not a single person is awake. I look around the train, my phone ringing uncontrollably in my hand.
I take a seat next to an elderly woman, her window wide open. My phone goes through that same window about gen second later. As do all my worries. My heart has never hurt this much, but I have never in my life felt a weight quite this big being lifted off my shoulders.
I open my leather wallet and look at the picture of Charles tucked on the inside. That too goes out of the window.
••••••••
hope you enjoyed!
there won’t be a part 2 unless this story really takes off, but I doubt it ?
𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 !!!!
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tim-shii · 3 months
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i remember it all too well.
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featuring: bachira meguru, itoshi rin, mikage reo
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" you almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over at me. "
bachira meguru was an eccentric lover. he likes to have fun and takes you on dates you’d never even expect. one time, during your second date, he took you out to go bungee jumping. you were frozen on the platform for 30 minutes while he was down there, cheering you on with a stupid smile on his face and his phone recording you.
right now, you guys are on the way home after a day at a cat cafe. they were really cute but their fur all over you was not cute at all. you look out the window, admiring the view as the car sped through the road. you hold back a laugh as you pass by a squirrel falling down a tree with its acorn stuck in the branch. you turn to tell bachira when you notice he’s already looking at you.
“eyes on the road!”
“i got my eye on you.” and to push it further, he points two fingers in your direction. sighing lighty, you shove his face to turn to the road. “you can eye me later if we don’t die.”
bachira whips his head to look at you accusingly. “excuse me?! my driving skills are maxed out, you know. and besides, who’s the one with the license between us, huh? that’s right. me. bachira megu–” “yeah, yeah. shut up.” you try to shush him however that seemed to only seethe him more. more screams of fury and annoyance comes from bachira. you were only seconds away from tuning him out when you saw the traffic light glow red. immediately, you urged bachira to step on the brakes. with the panic in your voice, he abides at once.
now at a stop sign, deep breaths coming from the two of you fill the vehicle. giggles and laughter following after. “oh my god, stop laughing, meguru.” he halts his laughter. playfully gesturing a zipper over his lips yet the obvious grin on his face gives it away.
“can we both agree to always keep an eye on the road now?”
“yes, ma’am… got my other eye on you tho.”
“bachira.”
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" you told me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me. "
getting into a relationship wasn’t in itoshi rin’s bucket list. or any list really. never did he think that he’ll be here at 3am in the morning, on his bed, with you, and he’s telling you all about him. from the very first time he held a soccer ball to the day sae left for spain. he confided in you, hiding no side of his self and showing you all and even letting you see through him completely.
“so, this is it?” the air was cold. breaking up on a december night? it almost makes him laugh. he’d fight for it but.. what was the point? this is the ending of a love story. your love story. if he tries to change the ending, who knows what could happen next? you stay with him out of pity? or you get tired and all goes in a circle once more. he stays silent. not uttering one word and maybe that set you off because you dragged a hand down your face. he observes you for the first time in weeks. you look really tired and if letting this end would make you happy then so be it.
he walks past you and that leaves you baffled. so he’s just leaving, you think in your head. chest aching and hands itching to reach out, but you don’t. because if he’s walking away without a word, what are the chances he’ll hear you out?
“oh god, i never thought it could end up like this.” rin hears you whisper to yourself as he grabs his coat and makes his way to the door. he bites on his lips, urging the tears brimming his eyes to not fall. not now. as he strolls through the park, he mutters to himself. “neither did i.” but you weren’t there to hear him. only the moon knows.
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" we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. "
loving mikage reo was unexpected and something you’re grateful for. he’s the best boyfriend one could ever ask for. he fell in love with you at first sight when you took his coffee order at the cafe down the block. the continues to visit the coffee shop with a bouquet of flowers dedicated for you everyday until you give him your number.
cravings at midnight are common. you had them a lot so sneaking out of reo’s arms became something you’re skilled at. tiptoeing towards the fridge, you rummage through every shelf to find something to eat. a yelp escapes you as you felt cold hands slid under your shirt. reo’s laughter breaks your shock, turning to hit him in the chest. that just seems to make him laugh more.
“hi, sweetheart. what are you doing?” he smiles like he did nothing wrong. you scowl at him before turning to rummage through the fridge once again. “i’m hungry. i wanna eat.”
“oh? should we just order then?” reo asks you, pulling out his phone and opening a delivery app. he was about to click on an item until your hand blocks his phone while you stare him down with a glare. “reo, your fridge is full to the brim. baa-ya even had to push things in the pantry ‘cause there’s no more space!”
“come on, use your inside voice inside the house.” like the smooth man he is, he cuddles you in his arms, swaying the both of you side by side. only to stop when you pinch his side. “ow! what was that for?"
“don’t dance with me when the fridge door is open!”
“but it’s romantic!”
“an overpriced electricity bill isn’t!”
“you’re not even the one paying the bills–ow!”
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likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
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burntheedges · 14 days
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Maintenance Request Chapter 22
Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2k
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chapter summary: checking in with Joel 🥰
a/n: chapter 22 is here! we have chapter 23 next week and then the epilogue. keep an eye out on Tuesday or Wednesday next week for something fun 👀 I'll tag everyone on the tag list. 🧡 and thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕
chapter tags/warnings: flirting, pet names (darlin’, baby, honey), annoying coworkers
Chapter 22
Thursday, December 5 Fifteenth week of the semester
Sometimes Joel couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had he convinced you to talk to him – and gotten past all of the mishaps, misunderstandings, and ridiculous interruptions – but you’d agreed to date him. To be his. Most days it had him walking just a bit taller, shoulders just a bit straighter. He looked like a man who loved his life, and he knew it. (He’d gotten more than his fair share of teasing for it, around his office and at home. And Tess was a menace.)
On this particular day, he was walking to your office to meet you and take you to lunch to celebrate finally reaching the last week of classes. He wondered if the people he walked past could feel the good mood radiating off of him, but shrugged. He was in a good mood, after all. Just last week you and Ellie had joined him and Sarah and Tommy for Thanksgiving in the afternoon, since Ellie’s mom had been at work, and it had gone better than he could have ever imagined. You just fit – in his house, in his life. Ellie and Sarah got along like a house on fire (which was a little worrying, to be honest – those two were going to get up to some mischief, he just knew it). As he’d watched you get into your car around dinner time, off to have a second meal with your sister, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like if you didn’t have to go. If you didn’t have to leave his house in order to go home. If home was right there. With him.
He’d already started trying to calculate when he might be able to ask you to move in without scaring you off. (He’d decided on the end of spring semester. That was enough time right? Four months? Sure. Had to be.)
(If he could wait that long.)
As Joel entered your building, he felt himself start to smile, unable to stop it from taking over his face. Just because he was about to see you again. He was already looking forward to the weekend after next, when finals would be done and you would be done grading. When you would be all his.
He was about to turn the corner to head down the hall to your office when he realized he could hear your voice coming from the hallway, apparently talking to someone. He slowed, trying to figure out if it was a student and if he should wait out of sight for a moment. But then he realized how tense your voice sounded as you asked what the other person wanted. When they responded, Joel started to frown and crossed his arms, leaning up against the wall where neither of you could see him.
“Well, since it seems like you’ll be joining the course committee in the spring, I think we should meet to talk about it more.” Trevor’s voice was unpleasant, as always, but something in his tone made Joel frown even harder than usual. Even though he wanted to laugh, remembering how you’d told him Trevor had been taken off the committee, but didn’t know it yet. You were actually meant to be Trevor’s replacement.
“Trevor, I don’t think that’s nec–” Joel could almost picture you trying to keep yourself from rolling your eyes and this time, he did smile.
Trevor interrupted you. Of course. “No, it really is necessary. You could learn a lot from me, you know, I’ve been on the committee for two years.” Joel tried not to laugh at the absurdity of that suggestion.
“That’s ok, Trevor. I–”
He cut you off. Again. Joel frowned, listening carefully. “You know, you really do need to start pulling your weight around here. If you do want tenure. Some things are more important than teaching, you know. It’s nice and all that the students like you, but that’s not what really matters.” Trevor sounded so haughty as he said it that Joel’s hands clenched into fists without his conscious input. 
“Trevor, I’ve already talked about everything with Claire, and she’s happy with me, so I don’t know what you mean by that.” Your tone had gone ice cold and it made Joel smirk, darkly approving. You tell him, baby. 
Trevor cleared his throat and Joel knew he was probably squirming under your clear disregard. He could almost picture it. “Well. If you ask me, you need to learn more about the politics of surviving in this department and at this school. We really should set up a meeting. I know what’s really going on in this department, you know. If you want to be in-the-know.” It sounded like Trevor was clinging to his haughty tone with both hands, barely able to keep it up.
You sighed, loud enough for Joel to hear it from his hiding place. He smirked again. “Look, Trevor, I really am going to be too busy until after finals, and then it’s the break, I–”
He cut you off again and Joel shifted his weight, annoyed. “Well then we should meet at a different time. You know, it would probably be best to talk over dinner? I–” Joel heard the suggestion but not the rest of his sentence – there was a sudden roaring sound in his ears that took over and urged him forward around the corner before he even realized he was moving. 
Turning the corner, he took in the situation: you, with your back to him, arms crossed in front of you as if to ward Trevor away. Your shoulders looked tense and he could tell even without seeing your face that you were desperate to escape this conversation. 
Trevor, on the other hand, looked almost like he was aiming for predatory, but his demeanor couldn’t quite manage it. He was angled towards you and attempting some sort of one-handed lean against the wall to your left, staring you down. He didn’t look away as Joel came around the corner.
Joel noticed all of this without stopping his forward motion and kept walking until he was right behind you. He wrapped his right arm snugly around your waist as he stepped up next to you. He watched as your shoulders relaxed when he touched you and smirked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“Hey, darlin’, you ready for lunch?” He interrupted whatever Trevor had been about to say without an ounce of regret.
Out of the corner of his eye Joel watched as Trevor suddenly stood up ramrod straight, eyes utterly disbelieving as he swiveled his gaze back and forth between the two of you.
“You– what– that’s not! I–” Trevor actually sputtered. It was very gratifying. Joel squeezed your waist and smiled, wide and disingenuous. 
“Oh! Hello there, professor. Didn’t see you there.” The other man eyed him distrustfully, which Joel supposed was fair.
“Um–” Trevor started to reply, but you cut him off.
“Hi Joel, yes, let me just put my bag down.” You moved to finally step past Trevor towards your office, but suddenly the other man’s arm shot out in front of you, keeping you from leaving. He wasn’t touching you, but only because Joel had kept his grip on your hip and pulled you back a a step. You stared at Trevor quizzically, obviously surprised that he wasn’t letting you leave. “Trevor, what is it?”
“You can’t!” Trevor looked incensed, suddenly. “Um, you can’t date other employees?” He said it like a question, like he was scrambling for an excuse to keep you there.
Joel thought this sounded a bit rich from a man who’d been about to ask Joel’s girlfriend on a (very unwelcome) date. He was opening his mouth to say so when he heard Claire’s voice come from behind Trevor.
“Trevor, that’s not a rule.” She sounded exhausted and spoke with a cadence that made it clear this was a sentence she had said so many times it had its own specific rhythm. “I need to talk to you anyway, it’s convenient to find you here. Come with me to my office.”
She walked right past the three of you with a nod to you and Joel. Trevor gaped after her, mouth wide open. 
“But! But she–” he sputtered, but Claire cut him off. 
“Now, Trevor.” He scurried after her, head down, face red.
Joel turned to you and smiled. You looked shocked, and laughed incredulously as you watched Trevor round the corner.
“Am I imagining things, or was he about to ask me out? In like, the most condescending way possible?” 
Joel started herding you towards your office with his hand on your lower back before he responded. “Pretty sure he was, yeah. Before I interrupted.”
“And thank god for that,” you scoffed. “Why on earth does he want to go out with me? He hates me!”
Joel smiled and shook his head. “Seems likely he thinks that’s flirting.”
The look of utter disgust on your face was very gratifying. Joel stood a little taller in satisfaction.
“Flirting?! He’s horrible to me, all the time. He just told me he thinks teaching isn’t important and was judging me for thinking it is! Just now!” You entered your office and threw yourself into one of your arm chairs. “God, he’s such a prick.”
Joel laughed. “Come on, honey, let’s get to lunch.” You rubbed your hands over your face, but nodded.
“I have to tell Beth about this,” you muttered as you stood and stretched. “She’ll never believe it.”
Joel let his hand come up to rest on your lower back again as you headed back down the hallway towards the doors at the front of the building, and he let himself feel smug when he felt the muscles in your back relax under his touch. 
Joel (3:42 PM): You know that professor in her department that everybody hates?
Tess (3:45 PM): the British Lit Prick? yes. and yes everyone does hate him.
Joel (3:46 PM): He tried to ask her out today.
Tess (3:47 PM): 🤣and she turned him down, of course (3:47 PM): please tell me she was mean about it
Joel (3:48 PM): It didn’t even get that far, Claire interrupted. But she looked horrified. (3:49 PM): I walked up just in time to make it clear she was taken, anyway.
Tess (3:50 PM): as she should, he’s a horror (3:51 PM): damn. how big is your ego right now
Joel (3:52 PM): No idea what you mean.
Tess (3:54 PM): sure, Joel (3:55 PM): don’t run into any doors with that big head
Joel (3:57 PM): 🙄
Tess (3:58 PM): at least you can fix it afterwards if you do
Joel (4:00 PM): See if I help you with the crickets, next time.
Beth (4:17 PM): nice work with the showing off and being scary in front of Trevor
Joel (4:18 PM): Did she say that?
Beth (4:19 PM): she told me you walked up just in time to stake your claim
Joel (4:20 PM): Damn right I did.
Beth (4:21 PM): 😂well, good job (4:21 PM): wish I could have seen his face (4:22 PM): god that guy is such a prick. I did wonder if this was a gross flirting situation but I was afraid to make it real by saying it out loud
Joel (4:23 PM): He turned a very bright shade of red. (4:23 PM): Now that I know, it’s obvious. I’m surprised it took him so long. (4:24 PM): Apparently they hate him all the way over in the chemistry department.
Beth (4:25 PM): that is the least surprising thing I’ve heard today (4:26 PM): he used to go to the faculty senate meetings and act like his normal charming self. I’m sure at this point it’s everyone on campus
Joel (4:28 PM): I see how he earned his nickname.
Beth (4:29 PM): I might have heard a student use it the other day 👀
Joel (4:31 PM): If the students have it, it’s over. (4:32 PM): Bet it’ll end up on rate my professor and he’ll have a meltdown.
Beth (4:32 PM): it’s what he deserves
...
a/n: everyone hates Trevor 🤷🏻‍♀️ he may or may not be based on a real person 👀
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aphrogeneias · 9 months
Text
it's been seven hours and fifteen days —
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (soulmate!au)
summary: five years ago you'd left your hometown in a hurry, trying to escape a heartbreak you thought was inevitable. now, you find out what's truly inevitable are lengths that fate will go to meet you.
word count: 1.3k
warnings: soulmate!au, angst, unrequited love (or is it?), eddie and reader are childhood friends but they're now in their 20s.
series masterlist
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I. PROLOGUE (1991)
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA, DECEMBER 1991
"He's here."
Your trembling hands grasp the telephone receiver a little too hard. Staring at the closed door of the back office and hoping that the "staff only" sign is respected, you wait for your friend at the other end of the line to answer after you completely ignored her cheery "Hello!" just seconds earlier.
If you strain your ears a little bit, you can hear the telltale sounds of instruments being dragged around the small stage at the other side of the bar, the voices of the men — both band and crew alike — checking the sound for later that night, distorted feedback echoing from the amps. His voice was the loudest, as it’s always been.
It all feels like a fever dream.
"Who is there?"
"Who have I been running from for the past five years?" You sighed tiredly, as if you'd just ran for miles. You hoped that from your desperate tone that Robin would have picked up on exactly who you were talking about.
"Oh… He's there?" Realization colors her voice. You heard steps on her end, the telephone cord being stretched, and waited with baited breath for her to return. For a moment, you can almost picture her clumsily moving around her small kitchen, trying not to break something in her haste. "He's there?"
The shock you hear in her voice can't be compared to the one you felt when you saw Eddie Munson — freak extraordinaire, professional small town delinquent, guitar wizard and your long lost best friend — walk into the bar you work at, equipment in hand, ready to settle in the stage for a busy Friday night at one of the more inconspicuous bars in Sunset Boulevard.
In all your naivety, you thought you'd never have to see him again. Once you left Hawkins, fresh out of High School and with a determination you only have when you're born in a town that is, in turn, equally determined to spit you out, you thought that was it. Destiny and fate and red strings didn't rule your life, you did.
Destiny was now laughing at your face, pointing at you with an accusing finger like a mother that says "I told you so" to a misbehaving child that has to face the consequences after tempting them for too long.
It looked like he didn't change a thing since you last saw him, from the shaggy brown hair down to the tattered black bandana in his pocket, at least from the quick look you took at him before bolting, which only hurt even more.
"When were you going to tell me he moved here? Didn't you know anything? Didn't Steve know? Dustin must have told him something, it's impossible…"
"Bold of you to assume I listen to every single thing that dingus tells me when he calls me, babe." Robin interrupts your increasingly rapid speech, filled with indignant rage. Her words seem harsh towards your mutual friend, but you know it's said with affection. "And also, I don't know, doesn't fate work in mysterious ways or whatever they used to tell us when we were kids?"
Your communication with your childhood friends was done primarily by phone, ever since you left for Los Angeles and Robin for Indianapolis with her girlfriend-slash-roommate (as far as both of their parents are concerned), Vickie. Steve had stayed behind, begrudgingly managing his dad's business, but you knew it was only a matter of time until he left too.
All of you do, eventually. Even Eddie did, much to your chagrin. It was bittersweet, actually. He'd achieved his lifelong dream of getting out, a dream you both shared, but now you hoped he had chosen somewhere else to run to instead of right into you.
If you weren’t too busy being desperate about your current situation, one you’d been trying to avoid for longer than you thought it was possible, you’d be happy for him. Truly. Once upon a time, it was all you ever wanted. All you could ever talk about. Sitting on his bedroom floor, lying together on your roof, staring at Lover’s Lake — about how you’d get out of there and conquer the world.
You didn’t get to do it together like you planned, like you were meant to, but, then again, life found a way.
"There's nothing mysterious about this, though. Every idiot with a band in this country moves to California sooner or later, it was just a matter of time until they did too."
"May I remind you that he's not just an idiot with a band but actually your soulmate?"
The word soulmate pierces your heart like an arrow anytime you hear it, especially when it's related to yours. It reminds you of a painful conversation, one that was hard to forget.
"Don't say that. You're making it difficult for me." You murmur, closing your eyes for a moment too long. Still staring at the door, scared of someone walking in catching you hanging on to the receiver for dear life, unshed tears glistening in your eyes.
"I'm just saying, and I know I've said this a million times before, but I don't know how you haven't caved to those doe eyes of his. Soulmate or not, I would have, and I don't even like men. Not even a little bit."
Glimpses of warm brown filled your mind, deep and all-knowing. It was getting harder to breathe in the stuffy backroom, the walls seeming to close in on you.
A rational part of your brain, deep inside, knew that you were likely exaggerating. It wasn't like Eddie meant to hurt you — he couldn't even if he tried, that boy didn't have a mean bone in his body. In your worst moments, you tried to convince yourself that you had hurt yourself. You broke your own heart before he could break it first.
That same rational part of your brain knew it was inevitable. The heartbreak. It was only a matter of time until it all shattered — so, you left. You stopped writing at some point near the six month mark after you moved, he stopped calling a little after that. Life went on.
"You're not being very helpful, you realize that? I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him. They're all here, all of the boys. They're here, at the bar, rehearsing." You told her. "When Linda said they had hired a new band I expected something like them but not them, literally." Recounting what happened a few minutes before, you left out the part where you may or may not have crouched behind the bar counter to avoid being seen by your former classmates.
The Deuce was your safe place, and that was a lot to say about a bar that housed a little under a hundred rowdy rock fans almost every night and had seen its fair share of fights and public indecency charges in the time you worked there, but you liked it. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was one of those places where everything felt possible and every night was different, or with the woman who took you under her wing and made you feel at home in the most chaotic moment of your life.
You trusted Linda, but not enough to tell her about your “one who got away”. Even if you did tell her about what led you here, the real reason you were miles away from home, you don’t think it would have made a difference in this particular moment. You had a feeling no one could put a stop to the red string that was, little by little, shortening the distance between you and the one who’s always held the other side of it.
It frightened you to no end.
"You should just talk to him. Rip that band-aid off. What are you going to do? Leave your job?"
After a beat of silence on your end, Robin continued, and the soft kindness in her voice was enough to finish breaking you. You wish you could hold her through the line. "You can't keep running forever."
Was it stupid that you thought you could?
Your heart beat fast under the tight black shirt you used to work that day, and unconsciously, your hand reached for the necklace under it. An old red guitar pick sat there, right under your collarbone, held between your fingers.
The only thing of his you couldn't keep in that damn box.
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oracle-of-dream · 16 days
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Under the Nite Lights
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Summary: He's not coming... is he? Even in the cold Winter weather, as the snow falls, you can't believe he'd leave you waiting.
Notes: Male Reader, Fluffy, Winter theme, Leehan is a romantic, Sun/Moon couple, Sleeping in the cold
Wordcount: 1k
Your fingers were numb. Your feet stung. It felt like your eyes would never open again from your frozen tears.
In the park, on a bench under a tree surrounded by snow. You shivered while watching couples strolling through. The Nite Lights had started and he still wasn't here–if he was ever coming at all... You pulled your coat tighter around you, the one he'd bought you. It faintly smelled like him too. But it only made the hole in your heart grow bigger at the thought that he wasn't here with you.
Every December, your hometown would make a big event of showing massive light displays in the park which stretched across town. And every year you'd go. This would've been the first year you wouldn't have to go alone... It was the best stop for couples. Every year, you watched so many pairs enjoying their time together, they hugged each other to stay warm and laughed as they walked. And every year, you'd watch alone from the bench as you thought about how it would be walking with someone special.
You'd begged your boyfriend, over and over to make sure he made time for this night. The one night that meant so much to you... But you were still alone on the bench. Just like every year before.
Your phone was dead from calling and texting him. Each attempt went unanswered. Where the hell could he be? Your mind wandered as you felt your eyes get heavier. Your breathing slowed as your head slumped back, feeling the snowflakes gently pepper your cheeks.
Why couldn't he be here... just for one night?
You could remember the first day you met him. Leehan was a customer in the cafe you worked at. His long hair was tied back as he carried textbooks to his seat, balancing too many books for him to handle. You'd guessed it–he fell and dropped the books everywhere. You rushed over to help him. And that's when you got a good look at his handsome face, pink with embarrassment as he hurried to clean up his mess. You split the load with him and helped him carry some of the books, and he left you a big tip as a thank you. You cleaned his table to find his number with a small drawing of you... It was so detailed and beautiful, in a way that you could never see yourself. On the back of the portrait, it said. "You're so beautiful, if the stars ever stopped shining, I'd call you to shine my nights for me." It was the goofiest pickup line you'd gotten while at that job, but it was the best thing you'd ever read. You called him after your shift and ended up seeing each other for a date later that week...
A voice echoed in your mind. "Y/n!? Baby!?"
Your body shook as your eyes peeled open, your frozen eyelashes straining to separate. It took a moment for your eyes to focus but you knew that voice... It was him. You spotted Leehan rushing around the park with a panicked look in his eyes, carrying a bouquet of white flowers–he was wearing the sweater you'd bought him too.
You cried as you stumbled to your feet. The effort it took to rip your body from the bench knocked you to the floor. Your needs buckled from the cold, and your throat ran dry. He came... He really did come! You tried to speak as loudly as you could, "Leehannie!" He turned around and relaxed when he saw you. His panic turned into a soft worry as he ran over to you.
Leehan knelt down and placed the flowers beside you as he checked on you. He dusted the snow out of your hair and wiped your tears. "Baby, I've been trying to call you. Why didn't you answer me?" Leehan rubbed his head against yours before pulling you into his arms, squeezing you tight. His voice shook as he whispered, "Please don't worry me like that... I don't know what I would've done if you'd vanished on me." He stroked your head while hugging you, taking shaky breaths.
"I thought you weren't coming..." You sniffled as you wiped your nose.
"How could I not come? This night's so special to you! You love watching the Nite Lights!"
"You didn't answer my calls or texts. I didn't know what to do..."
Leehan kissed you, his lips, two soft pillows for you to rest on. "I'm so sorry, baby. I was still stuck at work, then I went to get a surprise for you–by the time I tried calling you back, you weren't answering."
"My phone died."
Leehan stood up, pulling you to your feet. "That's okay–it happens... As long as you're safe. How long did you wait out here? You're almost blue!"
"...Three hours."
Leehan's eyes widened. "Three hours!? I'm an hour late to our date, right? Did I get the time wrong?"
"I wanted to look around alone first... Like I used to. Then I'd walk with you to see how it was different." You looked down at Leehan's flowers. "Are those for me?"
He scooped them up and gave them to you. "Some beautiful flowers for my beautiful boy," He said as he kissed your hands. Leehan stepped back and held his hand out to you. "I know I'm late, but would you still want to walk with me?"
The way the light shined on him, and the snow landed perfectly in his hair. He looked like a dream–a dream man in a Winter wonderland. You nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'd love to walk with you..."
Leehan smiled as he took your hand, leading you through the park. The two of you laughed and pointed out your favorite decorations–Leehan could name all the different fish ones. "Why are there fish in Winter? No one thinks about finishing in Winter. Maybe ice fishing?" Your heart swelled watching him talk about his fish facts. He was the cutest when he told you whatever you'd listen to. And for him, you'd listen for as long as he wanted.
Toward the end of the walk, Leehan stopped you.
"Remember that surprise I talked about?"
You nodded. Leehan pulled a small box out of his pocket. Inside were a pair of rings, silver bands with a Sun and a Moon.
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"Will you shine in my days, and let me light your nights?" Leehan asked with a goofy smile–wiggling his eyebrows the way you liked.
"Of course, Moon Man." The nickname you gave him since his head was always in space.
"Thanks, Sunlight..." The nickname he gave you for bringing light into his life every day.
You put the rings on each other as you kissed under the Nite Lights. Your first year going with someone, and your last year going alone...
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bosbas · 6 months
Text
Chapter 8: no one wanted to play with me as a little kid
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (sort of. it's like pre idiots in love. on the cusp of idiots in love), fluff (so much fluff)
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: you know what. let's pretend all of the ages/years make sense. kisses to all of you!
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December 4, 1809 - Dearest, loveliest, most wonderful Y/I (your initial),
I am so sorry I have not written in almost two weeks, though I did enjoy the very strongly worded letter you sent me reminding me of this fact and demanding a response. I wish I had a better excuse, but truthfully, this term has just been hectic. But to answer the question you so politely asked: yes, I will be home in time for Christmas, and I will be staying for New Year's and your birthday (your birthday is not even two weeks after Christmas, darling, give me some credit!). Though I rather think you owe me a present instead of the other way around after calling me an oblivious toad.
As an apology for my silence, I've attached my reading list for the courses I am taking at Oxford this term so you can also read them. I am sure you will be able to find them in your library but do let my mother know if you cannot find them. We should also have copies in our library. I will be heading back to Aubrey Hall in ten days to see the lot of you, and I will eagerly be awaiting all of your thoughts on this term's reading.
Yours, B
You couldn't help the excited gasp that left your lips as soon as you were finished reading Benedict's letter. You hadn't even managed to leave your entryway before you hastily opened the envelope addressed to you, blurting out a thank you to your slightly startled butler, who had been taken aback by your eager rifling of the mail. 
Now that Benedict was at Oxford, you barely got to see him at all, so you were more than a little excited when you read that you would only have to wait ten more days to see him. The three weeks he was home for the winter holiday were the bulk of your in-person interactions with him for the year, as had been the norm for the past three years he had been at university. 
It wasn't all bad, though. Proof of that lay in a box in your bedroom filled with every single letter or note you had received from Benedict while he was away at Oxford. Even the short ones, when he was studying for an exam and barely had time to write a coherent response, had found a place inside your box. You supposed the box contained most of your friendship with Ben over the past three years, neatly organized by date from oldest to newest and separated by term. 
Sometimes, you found yourself missing Benedict more than usual, and you would read through your favorite of his letters. Often, it ended up being the shortest notes that were the sweetest and ones you would read over and over. Even years after he had sent the letters, you found comfort in his messy scrawl after an afternoon playing Pall Mall without Benedict and his typical banter. But once you saw him at Aubrey Hall every December, it would be like no time had passed at all. You kept him up to date on everything happening at home with your family and his, and he told you wild stories from his time at Oxford. 
And although you enjoyed hearing about his life, it was also bittersweet. You were so jealous of him, wishing more than anything that you could go to university, too. But alas, the pesky issue of your gender prevented you from furthering your education. You got as close as you could, though. Benedict would send you all of his readings every term, and you enjoyed discussing the books you read at length when he returned for the holiday season. 
This is not to say that your conversations about literature and art were limited to your in-person time. In fact, most of your correspondence was about the books you were reading or the galleries you had gone to. Ben could spend pages and pages talking about a particular part of a painting, the way the artist had captured the way light filtered through the trees. And you loved every bit of it, engaging in your usual discussions. In a way, if you ignored how much you missed him, it was lovely to have a physical representation of your friendship. 
However, you would soon stop being constrained to receiving correspondence from Ben every few days, and you could simply knock on his door if you were particularly interested in talking about an aspect of your book. Your time at Aubrey Hall had become your favorite time of year, three weeks of daily interactions with your best friend being the absolute best birthday present you could've ever asked for. 
But this year was different. This was the last time you would have to say goodbye at the end of the holidays, seeing as Benedict was graduating in the spring and returning from Oxford permanently. To say you were over the moon was an understatement. You could barely wait to spend hours in his studio watching him paint again or reading aloud to him under the shade of the tree in your backyard on particularly warm days. 
---
August 12, 1799 - Y/I, I thought you would like this one. Yours, B
Bypassing Alex and Anthony having a heated debate about who was better at billiards, Benedict headed straight in your direction across the garden, ignoring Daphne, Colin, Theo, and Bastian, who had been playing some team game that devolved into an argument. Benedict patted your head as he came by to sit beside you on the grass, momentarily drawing your attention away from the massive book on your lap.
Grabbing the book from your lap and transferring it to his own, he asked, "So, what do you think?"
You let out an excited squeal, shaking Benedict's nearest arm with both hands. "It's amazing, Ben! An entire book about flowers, who knew? I've spent hours looking at it already, and I'm not even halfway through! It's got so much information I could die. It's incredible. Thank you so much." Though it was left unsaid, Ben knew these were hours you would have otherwise spent alone. The twins were especially adamant about not having you play with them, and Alex and Anthony were too caught up in their never-ending competitions to pay any attention to you. With your mother and his being occupied with the toddlers, Francesca, Cass, and Eloise, who had only just begun to walk and talk, you and Ben were truly the only odd ones out. But it was no bother to him. He loved when you read aloud to him, and you would happily listen to him talk about his sketches for hours on end, something he could not say about any other member of the Bridgerton-Beaumont cohort. 
Ben could only laugh fondly at your excitement, internally very proud that he had found a book you really enjoyed. "It's called an encyclopedia. There are loads of them about just about anything and everything in the world," he told you, leafing through the book himself. Gently pushing the book back in your direction, he prodded, "Well, go on then. Show me your favorite flowers so far." 
Grabbing the book, you hastily turned the pages until you reached the flowers, starting with the letter 'd.' Standing up, you rushed to the nearest corner of the garden and dug around for a few seconds, coming back with a bunch of small white flowers clutched in your small hands. 
Ben let out a short laugh, but you quickly shushed him, whining, "Stop it! It'll make sense in a second, I promise."
"I didn't say anything!" responded Ben defensively, putting his hands up in the air but unable to conceal the smile you had elicited from him. 
"Okay. Look at the page. The daisies. They're also called Bellis perennis, but that's in Latin. We have them here in the garden! Isn't that lovely?" you said excitedly, placing the flowers beside Ben.
"Oh, that is quite nice, Y/N," he responded, picking one of the daisies up and placing it behind your ear, eliciting a bright smile from you. "Did you know that a Violet is a type of flower? And so is a Primrose."
"You mean both our mums have flower names? That's so fun. I wish everyone could have a flower name," you responded, excited to have learned new information. 
"You could always give your daughters flower names," Ben suggested, enjoying the pure joy you were getting out of this.
"Well, before I have daughters, I would have to get married. And I don't want to do that! I just want to keep reading books. I want to read every single encyclopedia in the world!" you exclaimed, reaching your arms as high as they could go. 
Ben laughed, highly amused by your antics. "Just like me, then. Except instead of reading it's painting," he responded as he laid down fully on the grass, looking up at the sky and feeling particularly thankful that someone understood how he felt. On the other hand, you took the opportunity to dump all of the flowers you had picked onto his torso, arranging and rearranging them into different designs. He could only laugh, not at all bothered that his shirt would surely be dirty now, just happy to watch you enjoy yourself. 
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up as you tried unsuccessfully to stack the flowers on top of each other. "That's perfect, then. We can get married, I can read, and you can paint, and we can have a daughter and give her a flower name."
"That sounds wonderful! I'm glad that's sorted," he laughed, lifting his head to find you flashing a toothy grin. "D'you like the name Daisy for our daughter, then?"
"That's lovely! And you can paint her a painting of a daisy for her room!" you responded eagerly. Benedict hummed in assent, busy imagining the dynamics of a blissful imaginary marriage. 
---
January 3, 1810 - Y/I, Happiest of birthdays, darling. Come downstairs, where I have a proper gift and card waiting for you. Yours, B
As you came downstairs, you already feared the fate that awaited you. Every year, your birthday would begin with a very extreme and frankly excessive snowball fight involving all the Bridgerton-Beaumont children. You could trust no one. Alliances would easily crumble under pressure, and people were just as likely to betray their siblings as they would someone from the other family. You and Benedict, ordinarily inseparable, could become sworn enemies in the span of two snowballs. You couldn't even trust sweet Hyacinth, only seven years old, to be loyal to any team, seeing as she was an outstanding double agent, a lesson you had all learned the hard way. It was absolute chaos, and you loved every second of it. It didn't matter how old you were; this was always the best part of your birthday.
As soon as you stepped outside, a snowball the size of your fist hit your right shoulder. Slowly turning toward the perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes once you saw it was Gregory, who had helped you defeat Bastian and Francesca in one fell swoop last year. Clearly, that alliance was gone, and you would have to find someone else to rely on this year. 
Since it was your birthday, the fight officially started when you threw the first snowball, and this year, you chose to throw it at Cassandra, your own sister, who had annoyed you at dinner yesterday by incessantly flinging peas at you. Once the tightly packed ball left your hand, all hell broke loose. You were hit in the stomach and leg simultaneously as you fired snowballs in every direction you could, laughing as you did. 
You briefly ducked behind a tree trunk, needing a moment to breathe. You took advantage of the fact that you weren't a target to form a massive snowball. You carefully stepped away from behind the trunk, checking that the coast was clear. Without a second thought, you flung the snowball as hard as you could in the direction of the person closest to you. 
Unfortunately, it hit Benedict straight in the face, blinding him for a few moments. Your mouth hung open, trying not to laugh because you knew you had packed quite a bit of force into your throw. You ran to Ben's side, apologizing as much as possible without bursting into laughter. He cleared the snow from his eyes and turned to you slowly, an evil grin forming on his face. 
"I believe you have just declared war, Miss Beaumont," he said finally. 
You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, knowing he would be absolutely merciless. You couldn't even look back, not wanting to slow down. After a few seconds of frantic sprinting, you felt Ben tackling you onto a massive pile of snow. Both of you were laughing hysterically while trying to catch your breath. He turned you over so you were lying down side by side, both of you panting heavily, looking up at the winter sky. 
"I miss you," you said finally, turning your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you. He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you tightly before he helped you up and brushed the snow off of your coat. 
"I know. I miss you, too. But it'll only be like this for a short while longer, and then you can come round every day and read to me while I paint, yeah?" he said, lifting your chin to look at him. 
Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, his brown eyes not letting yours go. Your eyes flickered to his mouth briefly, your lips parting slightly. Looking back at his eyes, you saw something flash in them that you couldn't quite parse, an expression you hadn't seen before. Finally, you nodded, letting him pull you into him and kiss your forehead, enjoying the warmth and comfort you felt as you were wrapped tightly in his arms.
---
September 17, 1805 - Y/I, I can't believe you had a book about the exact artist I was talking about! I'll pop by yours later to say a proper thank you. Yours, B
Benedict walked into your sitting room, sprawling on the couch before you with his arm behind his head, silently waiting for you to look up from your book. But you had just gotten to an exciting part, and your eyes remained glued to the page, ignoring your best friend's attempt to get your attention. 
You heard him huff and muttered a soft "Just a second, Ben" as your eyes raced across the page, eager to know what happened next. In response, he slid further down the couch and crossed his arms, eliciting a laugh from you and finally drawing you away from your book. 
"You were barely waiting ten seconds, Benedict!" you exclaimed, secretly pleased he was so eager to see you. He was leaving for Oxford in a few weeks, and although you were trying not to think about the reality of him going, you were acutely aware that you would soon be unable to see him every day.
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, responding with a teasing, "It felt like ten years!" 
In recent months, the two of you had become inseparable. Your days were spent reading next to him as he painted, listening to him talk about his most recent artworks, or going for nature walks if you found yourself in Aubrey Hall. Anything to keep him close by before he left for Oxford, you reasoned. Though you couldn't help the growing affection, you were feeling, finding it impossible to look away when he tousled his hair just so and being a bit too pleased every time he complimented you. Every handsome smile or cheeky wink he sent your way lit you up inside, melting your heart just a little bit.
The problem was, and of course, there was a problem, that Benedict was always like this. Nothing about his demeanor had changed; your friendship was still the same as it had always been. Except now you found yourself spending a little too much time in the mornings making sure your hair looked good in case he popped by unannounced. Regardless, you knew Ben did not reciprocate your affections, so you tried to ignore these feelings as best as you could, folding them up very small and tucking them neatly in the corner of your heart for later examination.
Now, you found yourself on a couch against a wall of Benedict's studio, reading Romeo and Juliet as he was quietly sketching. This was quite possibly your favorite thing to do. Spend quiet afternoons together, reading and painting, enjoying each other's company. You took a moment to look at him as he scrunched his nose, unhappy with a certain aspect of the sketch. 
He sighed and looked up at you, nodding toward your book. "What has Shakespeare got to say today?"
"That marriage is a death sentence," you replied, voice deadpan. 
Ben burst into laughter. "Oh, come off it. It can't be that bad in real life. That's only a play! Besides, you've still got a while before you have to think about that," he tried to reason with you.
"Well, maybe. But it just sounds so unappealing. I want to do this. What we're doing now. I want to keep doing it. I don't want to be a wife! I just want to read and study," you argued. 
Benedict stood up, coming to sit beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, darling. I'm sorry," but he knew you had more to say.
You groaned, pushing your forehead into his shoulder. "I just don't think I'll ever be happy if I'm forced to marry. And I most likely will be, knowing my mother. She'd rather die than have one of her daughters turn into a spinster," you huffed, missing the sympathetic look you got from Ben. "And who will my husband be? A clueless man with no interest in me beyond my ability to be a good wife? I cannot imagine a worse fate."
---
May 8, 1810 - Y/I, I'll keep this one short, seeing how I'll be properly back in a few days! I've been quite busy with graduation, but I'm excited to come home. Yours, B
You smiled as you placed the last letter you had received from Benedict back in your box. The collection was complete. Three years of correspondence between the two of you finally come to an end. You carefully closed the box and returned downstairs, where a big family gathering was occurring in the garden. 
As soon as you stepped outside, Ben was at your side, chatting your ear off about one thing or another. He had barely left you alone since he had been back, granting you only a few minutes to yourself, but you couldn't complain. You wrapped an arm around his torso as you walked back to the garden table. 
"Oh, you look so darling!" cried Violet, cooing at the two of you. 
"You're proper adults now! Both of you! How the time has passed," your mother added, reaching out to hold Violet's hand. 
Benedict could only smile, too happy to be back at your side to focus on anything else. He had missed you loads while he was at Oxford, but having your arm around him now, he realized just how much he needed you. Ben placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, unable to help himself as you sat down at the table. He sat right next to you, taking one of your hands into his own so he could play with your fingers as you chatted with Primrose and Violet. 
Oxford had been a riot, to be sure, but he was so glad to come home to you.
previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!
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joshlmbrt · 5 months
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WAS IT OVER? (rockstar!e. munson x reader)
【 part one
【𝜗𝜚 warnings; ambiguous ending, mentions of cheating, cheating, eddie groveling, r gets mad at nance - but apologies later on (r just doesn’t know who to take it out on :( )
【𝜗𝜚 an; did i listen to she used to be mine while writing this???? yes. yes, i did. this is the last part! i tagged everyone asked for a part two or even commented on it! thank you guys for your support!!
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HAWKINS, INDIANA. DECEMBER 8TH, 1995.
The first couple of days when you had been in your home, you’d open your door to dozens of roses.
Although beautiful, it was the most cliché apologetic thing a man could ever think of.
Your heart clenches at the thought. He didn’t even remember your favorite flowers.
Today’s flowers were accompanied by a Hawkins Post paper.
You kneel and look at the flowers. You pluck the note from the holders.
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You sigh quietly, pushing it back it the little silver stick before cutting yours eyes over to the post before looking back at the flowers.
Maybe you should just call him. He’s in-
Wait.
Your eyes quickly look back over at the post, picking it up from the ground, cheeks flushing in embarrassment and anger.
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For someone who. . . Missed you, or at least acted like he did, he sure seemed completely fine. You stand from your position, leaving thr flowers outside and slamming the door.
HAWKIN’S POST.
Your hand grips the strap of your bag, your fingernails digging crescent moons into your palms.
You stop outside of the door.
NANCY BYERS.
Your jaw clenches and you open the door, stepping into her office.
“Did you say it was okay to put that in the post?”
She flinches, eyes peeking up at you from her glasses. She stands from the chair quickly, saying your name. “I didn’t mean for you-”
“Didn’t mean for me to what, exactly? See it? Well, I did! And why did you even do a story about it? He hasn’t ever really been talk of the town,” You wave your hand around. “But, now, suddenly, since he’s a. . . What did you call it?”
She opens her mouth, cheeks red with embarrassment and shame.
You cut her off. “Oh, yeah. Now, that he’s suddenly a new breakout rockstar you all want to read all about him.”
“That’s not-”
“It’s exactly what it is, Nancy. A cash grab,” You shake your head. “A cash grab. And to put my business out there as well? Knowing I’ve had a hard time since I’ve been home.”
She glances down, picking at the loose skin around her nails.
You scoff, shaking your head. “What kind of friend are you?” Her head lifts.
“I didn’t think you’d be this upset.”
“You didn’t think-” Your brows pinches together. “See, that’s your problem, Nancy. You don’t think. You don’t think about others unless it benefits to you. Kind of how you did Steve and Jonathan.”
Her mouth parts, brows lifting in surprise.
“It only benefited you because you can’t stand being alone.”
“I can’t believe you said that.”
“It’s the truth.”
She crosses her arms defensively over her chest, holding her head high as she clears her throat. “I think you should leave.”
“I’d be happy too.”
You turn, opening the door and walking out of her office. You feel eyes land on you as you push the door open, stepping outside.
You stomp your way towards your car, opening the door and sliding in before slamming it and tossing your purse to the side.
Your hands land on your wheel, eyes staring at the building in front of you.
You let out a shaky breath, head dropping as you close your eyes. Your hands leave the wheel, dragging down the side of your face.
“What did I just do?” You mumble to yourself.
You just took out your anger on someone who didn’t deserve it just because you can’t let it out on the one person who does. Good job.
DECEMBER 10TH, 1995.
You dump the mini marshmallows into your cup, some of the hot chocolate drying up on the sides of the warm cup.
There was a nice amount of snow sticking to the sidewalks and roads, so today’s chores: stay inside and keep warm.
Christmas Story was playing on the TV, the sounds of barking dogs making you huff out a laugh as you glance out the kitchen and into the living room at the scene playing out.
The microwave beeps and your doorbell rings. Your brows lift, eyes drifting towards the window above your sink. Anyone to drive in this weather was absolutely crazy.
You wipe your hands off, making your way towards the door, unlocking it and pulling it.
Absolutely crazy Eddie Munson was at your door right now, shivering in his snow covered combat boots, the tip of his nose and cheeks red from the blistering cold.
“Hi.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “I have nothing to say to you.” You go to close the door, his foot immediately making the door stop from closing in his face.
Your eyes glance up and suddenly he was closer. The smell of cigarettes, woodsy cologne, and a bit of whiskey made you dizzy.
“Please.”
You nod a bit, opening the door as you turn away. You grab the remote from the table in front of the couch, muting the tv. He shuts the door and steps into the warm home. It smelled like vanilla & honey, hot chocolate & melted marshmallows.
“Christmas Story,” He smiles a bit. “Our favorite.”
“My favorite,” You correct him, dropping the remote back down and grabbing the post. “You hated it and never paid attention to it.”
He frowns, eyes drifting to his boots.
“Who is that?” You shove the paper into his chest. His hands immediately come up and grasps the paper before it falls to the ground. “Is that who I think it is?”
He reads over the article, the inside of his cheek getting assaulted by his teeth.
He needs to tell the truth if he wants you to even think about getting back with him.
He nods his head. “Yeah.” He mumbles.
“What?” You place your hand behind your ear. “I can’t hear you.”
He knows you could, you’re standing directly in front of him. You want him to feel bad.
“Yes,” He lifts his head, throwing the paper onto the table. “Yes. That’s Diane. But nothing-”
“Nothing happened, oh, for sure! I believe you! She was just, what, being your therapist because she can listen better than anyone? Including me?”
“You left without letting me say what I needed too! What was I supposed to do?!”
Your brows lift in shock. “Maybe act like you did care, Eddie! Not call up the girl that you’ve been emotionally cheating with!”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is too! You just don’t want to admit that there might’ve been something there!”
“There wasn’t,” He shakes his head. “I promise you. There wasn’t anything there. I didn’t even know she was there until she showed up at one of my shows.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes!”
“Why would I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?”
“Because I’ve never once told you a lie,” You scoff, shaking your head. “What?”
“That. What you just said, was a lie,” You shake your head. “Look, I don’t want to argue. I don’t even want to talk or look at you or hear your voice. I was just so tired of asking you for the bare minimum, Eddie,”
He opens his mouth, the confusion on his face was enough to let you know that he didn’t know what you meant by that. Cutting him short, you quickly expand. “Begging you to spend time with me. Begging you to watch an hour movie or eat a meal with me. Begging you to read one chapter of a book with me,”
Your eyes burn. His hands begin to reach out and you shake your head, stepping back. “Begging you to. . . to say I love you. I want to be with someone who loves me, Eds. Not be with someone because I’m just. . . I’m something comfortable for them because they’ve been with me for a while and they’re scared to venture out.”
“You think I’m with you because you’re something comfortable and I’m scared to venture out?”
“It’s what I know,” You shrug. “I know you and you know me. That’s the only reason you’re trying to fix this. You don’t want to spend the time trying to get to know someone else.”
“I can’t believe you-”
“I think it’s time for you to just go, Eddie.”
“No. Hey, no. Wait, I-” He pauses, gulping. Your watery eyes lift towards his, a bit of hope shimmering in them.
Maybe this time he will say it. Maybe he does love you. Maybe he will-
“I. . . I’ll leave if that’s what you want me to do.” He nods. His heart breaks when he watches a tear slip out and you choose to just nod at him.
He nods, eyes glancing down at the paper once again. He turns and makes his way towards the door, gripping the knob.
“Do you still love me?”
Your head spins at the question because, yes, you do. How could you not?
“I don’t know anymore.”
Your fingers dig crescent moons into your arms, watching as he nods again before his back faces you. He opens the door, his curls moving at the wind. He steps out, slamming the door behind himself.
Maybe you were right. Maybe he was staying in this relationship because you were something comfortable to him, something he already knew and didn’t have to figure out anymore.
Maybe that’s why he had a hard time saying ‘i love you’, when he believes just showing is better than saying at times.
Or maybe he does love you. Maybe he isn’t staying with you because you’re ‘something comfortable’. No, that’s not why. He does love you. He wants to get married. Have a big honeymoon. Have kids. Leave everything behind and work on some kind of farm. (He didn’t know what kind, he’d let you choose.)
Growing up his dad never said the three words, his mom passed away when he was just 5. That was the last time he ever heard the phrase.
He knew Wayne loved him. Giving up his room in the small trailer just so he had somewhere to sleep (sometimes even sleeping in his room on the floor - after complaining his back had been hurting - just because Eddie had a small nightmare).
Wayne also gave him gifts. ‘It’s not much’ his uncle would say, ‘but I hope you like it.’
And it was his baby. His sweetheart. His guitar. Wayne had taken on extra shifts after seeing the look in the boys eyes when they landed on her.
He had bought it for him for Christmas, even on a good deal.
Even a man with little to no words, Eddie knew he loved him. That’s why he never questioned Wayne. Never needed to be told.
He had a home. Someone he could run too.
That’s what you wanted.
Sometimes it never occurred to Eddie why people liked words of affirmation, especially when the person does all they can for the other to show that they really did care, that they do love you.
That’s all you wanted.
Just once.
And he still couldn’t say it.
He curses his father.
THE OUTLOOK. DECEMBER 15TH, 1995.
You step into the stuffy bar, arms immediately squished to your side as you maneuver your way towards the booth you had seen Steve and Robin in.
“You made it!” Robin smiles, her cheeks flushed. Her arms are immediately outstretched for a hug. You smile and slide into the booth next to her, wrapping an arm around her.
“I can’t stay long,” You say. “Just came to see you guys a bit. Is Nance here?”
“Bathroom!” Steve points over his shoulder.
You nod, pat Robins hand and slide out of the booth. She boos at you, throwing a peanut at you, but misses and it’s some guy on the head. You snort and shake you head.
You pay Steve’s shoulder as you pass by and push open the door, stepping inside.
She’s washing her hands when you step in. Her eyes meet with yours for a quick second before looking back down.
You step closer, leaning against the counter. “You don’t have to say anything, but I’m sorry,” You nod, watching as her lips purse together, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser. “I was angry. I shouldn’t have took that out on you.”
She tosses the wet paper into the trash can, crossing her arms over her chest. “I understand if you want to be mad at me a little while longer, but you’re my best friend and I just wanted to let you know I am truly sorry.”
She nods a bit, blue eyes glancing down at your boots. “It’s okay. I understand,” She says. “People say things they don’t mean when they’re mad. I do it all the time.”
You smile a bit, nodding. She glances back up at you and sighs, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You immediately wrap your own around her as well.
“I’m sorry too.”
“You don’t have to be.” You shake your head.
She stays quiet for a moment, eyes glancing at the door before looking at the mirror. A small smile appears on her face.
“I’m pregnant.” She whispers.
You gasp, pulling away from her with wide eyes. “What?!”
“Shhh! Robs and Steve doesn’t know yet,” She shakes her head. “Jonathan went and got me a drink, but I want to wait a little longer before telling them.”
You grin and nod, pulling her into another hug. “Congratulations, Nance.”
She smiles and holds you tight.
“Okay, everyone,” A voice had made everyone look towards the stage, everyone moving towards the center excitedly. “We know what you all have been waiting for. . . and your waiting time is over! Give it up for Corroded Coffin!”
There’s screams and whistles from everyone in the crowd and you reach for your purse.
“I have to get up early in the morning for a job interview,” You smile at every in the booth. Robin was slacked over on Nancy. “But we need to hang out again soon.” You stand.
“Definitely! Maybe next weekend? My house? Movie night?” Steve offers. He wasn’t drunk, just a bit tipsy, the water he had been sipping on making the flushing his cheeks slowly fade to a pink color.
“Sure,” You nod over the cheering that had suddenly gotten louder. You’re grateful that they didn’t beg you to stay. “I’ll call you later, Nance.”
She smiles softly and nods.
You wave and turn, making your way towards the door quickly, slipping your coat on.
“I know we aren’t usually a cheesy band, but there’s a song I want to sing to someone. . .” Your footsteps stop as the beginning cords to Faithfully by Journey starts to play.
You slowly turn, eyes landing on him. He was already staring at you, the white light casting a glow over his skin and his hair. Almost like an angel.
There’s a small crack in his voice that makes you almost - almost - run up to him on stage.
“I get the joy of rediscovering you, oh, girl, you stand by me. . . I’m forever yours. . .”
Your step up a tad, hand gripping at your bag. Nancy shared a look with Jonathan and Steve, Robin snoring in Nancy’s ear.
“Faithfully.”
He tilts his head away from the microphone, nodding a bit at you, eyes shining with shed tears. He pulls it from the stand, walking down the steps.
Your eyes widen, gulping as he steps through the crowd of people and starts his way towards you.
“I’m forever yours. . .” He stops in front of you, wiping a small tear away from your face.
“Faithfully.”
He pulls the microphone away from his lips again, leaning closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. Your eyes close.
“I love you.” He whispers.
He pulls away, watching as your eyes fly open and look up at him. He smiles softly, nodding as he steps away from you and back towards the stage.
Your lips part, eyes following his movements.
You don’t know what will happen after today, but you do know. . . Eddie still will be in your future.
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【𝜗𝜚 tags; @hollandweather , @powderblueblood , @them-cute-boys , @ali-r3n , @leyannrae , @stylexrepp , @munsonzgf , @elegantkoalapaper , @taylorswiftsloverfr , @hollandweather , @yourfavoritewitchbitch
【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, feedback, likes, requests, & reblogs are welcomed, encouraged, and deeply appreciated! 🧸ও
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kasagia · 6 months
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❄️️Warm my heart pt. 2❄️️
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: December. Everyone in the Little and Grand Palaces is excited about the upcoming holidays. Only the Black General seems rather... depressed. Like every year when these holidays are coming closer. Maybe this year, since you've been promoted to his second-in-command, you can make the general's holidays a little more enjoyable? And you're not doing it because you're in love with him and you want to see him finally careless happy... not even a little bit. Written with sounds of: Chemtrails over the country club - Lana Del Rey Word Count: 3,5 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @budugu ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~
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Sneeze. You blow your nose into your handkerchief as quietly as you can and go back to writing. Another sneeze. You watch the tent flap out of the corner of your eye, ready for his return at any moment.
You caught a cold. Probably because you fell into a snowdrift with him and had… a moment there. You'd probably rather avoid all this. At least your heart wouldn't beat stupidly every time you were in his presence. And the stuffy nose and scratchy throat were just an irritating addition to your misery.
You sneeze loudly just as you hear his heavy-booted footsteps entering his tent. You mentally curse and close your eyes. You hear him brush the snow off his clothes before he stands still as he notices you. His burning gaze on your back almost makes you feel a little warmer.
"I'd like to say that I have right, but you look so poorly that even Ivan wouldn't have the heart to tell you that. Explain to me, in the name of the saints, what you are doing here instead of warming yourself by the fire wrapped in a blanket, preferably with a healer who will help you get out of this?" he asks, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose at the pile of used tissues next to you.
"We ungrouped. Zoya took everyone with her except Fedyor, Mal, and Alina and went on looking for the stag." you grumble, pulling your coat tighter around you. "Besides, I haven't finished these papers."
"Why the hell did the tracker stay here instead of going with them?"
You shrug. "I guess he doesn't get along with Zoya. He said the stag got scared and found a hiding place to wait out the worst of the snow. He says we'll try again in a week, when it will stop snowing a little bit. I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd also rather go back to the castle than chase the stag in the beginning of the raw winter."
"If you were him, we would have had a stag's bones in the Little Palace long ago, ready to be used when Alina mastered her powers. Besides, the boy distracts her. Not only does he delay our hunting, he also delays her training and doesn't let her use her full potential."
Jealousy settles unpleasantly inside you, digging a hole in your stomach. You should get used to it. Eventually, he and Alina will end up together one day and make a great couple. Sun and shadows. Light and darkness. Day and night. And other poetic shit like that. They were soulmates. One of a kind. No one could deny it.
"Maybe you're not as good a teacher as Baghra after all?" you say teasingly, trying to enjoy all the attention he was still showing you... at least until he realises that Alina is… extraordinary and is much more worthy of the position by his side. As his second-in-command, right hand, or… even someone much more, you could ever be to him.
"And you against me? My own deputy?" he snorts and walks over to the fire in the centre of the tent. You see the smirk stretch across his lips, and it instantly warms you, even before he even lights the fire.
"Baghra is specific, to say the least, but she is great at what she does. I don't know many people who would ever lose control of their powers after training with her."
"Believe me, I know such people…" he says thoughtfully. He stops lighting the fire and stares at the tinder in his hands. You feel the tension in his muscles and the quickening of his heartbeat as another of his memories comes flooding back to him.
Your heart clenches with grief and sympathy as you see his eyes darken under the heavy flashback. Without thinking, you walk up to him and take the tinder from his hand to light the fire yourself.
"When I was little, my brothers liked to camp in the forest and in the fields. We played soldiers who go to war and have to spend the night with only a sleeping bag and a tent. We had to find the rest ourselves. Our mother had a heart attack more than once when we returned late in the afternoon, dirty, freezing, and starving, but with such big smiles on her face that she didn't even shout at us. She left it to her father." you laughed as the first flames engulfed the logs in the fire.
"What happened to them?"
You're shaking. At first, you don't want to answer his question, but when you look up and see his gaze fixed on you, those dark eyes, so interested in you, you just... melt. Your heart is too weak to let this moment of his attention slip through your fingers.
"Fjerdans. They attacked my village and killed my parents. My siblings and I went to live with our grandparents, and a year later we were tested for Grishas. Only I was. They kicked me out of the house so quickly that I didn't even have time to pack. They did it themselves. My youngest brother took pity on me enough to put his stuffed animal in my bag. As a keepsake. We write to each other. I actually only keep in touch with him. But it's always better than being alone."
"You are not alone." he says it quickly, before he can even process your words, and places his hand on your shoulder, stroking it tenderly. "You... will never be alone, Y/N." he says with such confidence and tone of voice as if it was a promise he would never break.
He looked at you many times, but now. You feel something new in his gaze. A certain kind of tenderness, understanding, need for protection. And you bask in this feeling, as if in the glow of the warmest fire. The fire next to you isn't half as warm as his gaze on you and the touch you feel on your skin even under the layers of clothes you're wearing.
"I... I know." you whisper, hypnotized by the deep gaze of his dark eyes. "I have Fedyor, Genya, David, Alina. You. I found myself a new family. Maybe it's better to be nobody's daughter."
"No one will hurt you like your own family will." he sighs, nodding.
The crackle of burning wood is the only thing that can be heard in the silence that has fallen between you. His hand gradually moves from your shoulder to your neck, where he strokes your cold skin with his thumb, making you shiver.
"You're cold. We should warm you up. Where are your gloves and scarf?" he asks, shaking off the moment between you.
You feel him tense again and go to his bed to grab a black fur blanket and wrap it around you. You blush slightly, enveloped in his warmth and scent. You thank all the saints that he can't hear your heart beating fast… unless he felt your pulse when he caressed your neck with his thumb. Then you are fucked up.
"I left it in my tent. I was in a hurry to get here. I wanted to finish the paperwork as quickly as I could so as not to infect you." he laughs at your words and you frown, not knowing what's so funny.
"I don't get sick, milaya. Get some sleep. Maybe the tracker is skilled enough to track down an animal for dinner. I'll come back with some soup for you. Rest. General's order. I need my deputy to be fully healthy and ready to fulfil her duties. I believe the king will want to call a council as soon as we return."
He throws a pillow at you, which you catch, and he walks out of the tent, leaving you shocked and a little puzzled next to the fire. You immediately feel warmer, and the runny nose bothers you a little less as you allow yourself to lie down. Wrapped in its warmth and scent, you fall asleep ridiculously quickly. Your dreams are filled with him... warming you up in a completely different, more pleasant way.
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You don't know how much time passes. You wake up feeling a little better. You look around the tent in a daze, remembering how you got here. The fire still burns, still warming you, but not like a warm blanket and coat. Their black, dark colour clearly indicates their owner.
The smell of something delicious fills your nostrils. Your mouth waters as you look at the huge bowl of warm soup.
"Why is it not a wonder for me that the only thing that can wake you up is food?" you hear his amused voice. You turn towards him. He is sitting at his desk; a candle is lit as he writes something. He lifts his head for a moment and gives you a quick glance. "Eat. You'll feel better."
You take the bowl, and after the first spoonful, you groan at the taste of the soup. "How come this is good? Our supply of spices is long gone; how did you season it?"
He can't help but laugh. He puts down his pen and leans back in his chair, looking at you, curled up in his blankets and coat by the fire. A strange feeling warms him from the inside, seeing you so... at home with him, and if it weren't for your wheezing and red nose, he would have no qualms about enjoying the sight. But he knew you were only here because you were sick, and his care was helpful. No one would willingly stay with him. No one has ever done this...
"I haven't lived in a palace all my life, Y/N. I know how to take care of myself in all circumstances."
"How bad will it be if I say this is better than what you feed us in the Little Palace?" you ask, wolfing down the soup. Somehow he can't help but giggle. The heat inside him continues to grow… maybe you were able to infect him after all?
"Do not get used to it. This special treatment ends when you stop making sounds with your nose with every breath you take. Besides, you snore, colonel." he says it with complete seriousness, but even he isn't strong enough to hide the mischievous smirk that appears on his lips as he watches the growing outrage and embarrassment on your face.
"I am not!" you say it indignantly and throw his pillow at him.
He catches it gracefully with a smirk and throws it next to you, far enough away that you can't reach for it without moving. You moan, but don't change your position. You're too blissfully warm to do that.
"Move up. You can't be in one position all the time. You'll get stiff."
"Won't you massage me, general?" you ask flirtatiously. Your behaviour surprises both you and him, but for some reason, your filter is off. You say what you think, and you don't hold anything back... you also feel very hot, which is both pleasant and a bit bothersome.
"Do not cross the border. I'm not your nurse."
"Shame." you say briefly and put the bowl aside. He watches you carefully, noticing that your movements are a little less coordinated.
He walks over to you. He places his hand on your forehead and frowns. "You're burning. We should take these layers off of you."
"As much as some women would like you to undress them, right now it's not something I want."
"Y/N." he speaks to you calmly and gently, like to a child. "You have a fever. You can't be too warm, or it will only make things worse. I'll bring you some water, and when I come back I want to see you out of this cocoon."
"And who are you, my father?" you huff, crossing your arms and tightening your grip on the blanket.
"No. I am much more. I am... your general. So do what I say."
You roll your eyes at him. Your defiant attitude would have done all kinds of... inappropriate things to him if it weren't for the fact that his main concern right now was your health. That's why he doesn't play and argue with you any longer. He takes you into his arms in one confident, sweeping movement. You squeal in shock, clinging to him, afraid he'll drop you. The blanket and coat fall off you, leaving you only in your red kefta.
"No! It's cold!" you struggle with him in his arms.
He allows you to fight him enough to stand on the ground on your own two feet, but you're still trapped in his grip. You probably would have struggled with him for a while longer (until you had completely exhausted your energy), but you both froze in place when you heard a soft grunt coming from the entrance to his tent.
"Um... general?" Fedyor looks at the two of you confused. "I have that medicines you asked about." you frown at the fact that he sent him to the village to get medicine for you. "Mal also went with the list to Ivan. They will be here with a healer the day after tomorrow at the latest."
"Good, Fedyor. Well done. Leave these medications and get out of here. You are letting the cold in." he says, clearing his throat. Fedyor smiles at his reaction, clearly hearing his rapid heartbeat.
"Yes, sir." He puts the medicines on the table. "I would wish you a speedy recovery, Y/N, but under these conditions, I don't think it's really necessary. Good night." he says this and runs away from there, no longer exposing himself to the general's angry look.
He doesn't stay mad for very long. His thoughts of punishing Fedyor for his insolence quickly disappear when he hears your coughing. He looks at you tenderly and leads you to his bed.
"Here." he whispers and hands you a glass with some strange brown liquid in it.
"Aleksander, I can't drink alcohol in this state." you grumble and snuggle into his quilt, trying to create a cocoon of warmth around you again.
But he won't let you. Which is met with great protest from you.
He grabs your arms and moves you so you're leaning against the headboard of his bed, sitting down, handing you a glass, and glaring at you as he sits across from you, watching you closely. He would make you shiver if the fever didn't already make you tremble.
"Drink it. That's herb. It will help." you look at the glass warily. "What's wrong again?"
"Herbs are bitter. I don't want to drink it." you say angrily and put the glass with that damned thing on the nightstand.
"Your general is ordering you to do it. Drink." he says firmly, pushing the glass to your mouth. You purse your lips, glaring at him defiantly, at which he sighs.
If you were anyone else, he would have abandoned you a long time ago. He would leave you alone to maybe die, and he wouldn't think twice about you.
But you were his Y/N.
It changed everything. And he was terrified about how far he would go for you. There were no things he wouldn't do on your behalf—for your happiness, for your safety—only for seeing that disarming smile that lit up his centuries-worn, dark soul.
"Y/N." he whispers softly, stroking your hair. At the same time, he checks your temperature with his hand.
He frowns and presses a kiss on your forehead, cupping your cheeks with both hands. The glass is long forgotten on the nightstand as he presses his lips against your skin.
He would moan at the feeling of your silky, soft skin if you didn't have a huge fever. He found himself wishing you were warm for a completely different reason than the fever.
"Milaya, you are very sick. Drink the medicine for me, okay?" he asks gently, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as he looks at you carefully. You're still shaking. You're not sure from what, as you silently nod, still staring at his dark eyes.
He breathes a sigh of relief when you sip the medicine from the glass he holds for you without protest. He makes sure you drink it all before he gets out of bed. You instinctively grab his hand, and his heart sinks when he sees pure fear in your eyes.
"Don't go. Don't leave me alone." you whisper, your eyes staring at him so pleadingly that what else can he do but comply with your request?
He swallows and is surprised himself at how quickly he's at your side again, this time holding you in his arms, close to his chest. The idea of bringing you a cold cloth to cover your forehead flies from his mind the moment you snuggle into him for warmth. He feels like a stupid young boy again when he realises that, in another state, you wouldn't seek his closeness. He pushes away these thoughts, trying to make you as comfortable as possible as he runs his hand through your hair and brushes away the beads of sweat from your forehead.
"You're the best nurse or healer I've ever had." you whisper. Your head on his chest, eyes closed as you float with the rhythm of the breaths he takes. And seeing you in such a vulnerable state makes something break inside him.
"I haven't done this for a long time. Look after someone. I was the one who mainly took care of my sister. Our mother didn't want anything to do with her, and neither of us knew our father... so she only had me. People looked at us askance; the kids treated her like an outcast, so she was left to play with her older brother, a teenager who had no idea how to play with or take care of a six-year-old child, and a girl at that. But there was nothing I wouldn't do to make this little one happy. To give her what I didn't have… at least in a small way. Consequently, I can weave wreaths, braid braids, and other strange hairstyles; sew clothes for dolls; and make them. I played the prince on a white horse with her more times than I could count or be willing to admit."
"Black one suits you more." you comment, making him laugh quietly. "What happened to her?" you ask, opening your eyes and shifting your gaze to him.
He sighs heavily, pausing for a moment from stroking your hair as memories come back to him. And you can see in his eyes how much pain it brings him. You remember the words he said during one of your late-night conversations, when you were up late working on your reports.
The past is a wound that cannot be healed.
"She trusted the wrong people. Now she doesn't let anyone close... not even me."
"I turst you. With my life..." You wish you could hear his thoughts the moment he freezes at your words. "We all do." you add, still conscious enough not to completely pour out your heart to him. He pulls you closer to him, continuing to run his hand through your hair and press a cool cloth to your forehead.
"Thank you, Y/N." he whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
A few months ago, he would have cursed himself for letting you get so deep under his skin... Now he can't help but want more. He hates to admit it, but his mother was right.
Men are greedy creatures.
But how could he not want you more? Not to want everything you can offer him when it was you who awakened in him human feelings that he had been hiding from the world for a very long time? When could he be JUST Aleksander with you?
He checks your body temperature again by pressing his hand gently against your forehead, cheek and neck. He hums satisfied, feeling you cooler and your temperature closer to normal.
"You are cozy." you mumble as he is checking on you and you rest your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter. There is a strange sound buzzing in your ears.
"Cozy?" he asks, amused, knowing full well that in other people's eyes he was anything but comfortable or cozy. And there you were, cuddling up to him like he was your favourite stuffed toy, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms.
"Yhm..." you murmur, burying your face in his neck to sigh in his scent. "You are the best pillow in the whole world."
You hear the pounding in your head more clearly as your nose presses against his pulse point in his neck. You find this very irritating. If you were a little more aware, you would have realised that it was his heartbeat that was making it difficult for you to fall asleep. What you also don't realise is that you are using your powers on him and calming him down, causing you both to fall asleep.
The tickle on your forehead from something very soft and warm is the last thing you feel before you fall asleep. And he only had time to remove his lips from your skin before you unconsciously forced him to fall asleep, cuddled up against you.
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woso-lover · 8 months
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I wish I were Beth | Vivianne Miedema
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Vivianne Miedema x reader
Vivianne Miedema x Beth Mead
Summary: You've always liked Viv, but for her you are just a friend.
Based on: Heather by Conan Gray
English is not my first language
Warning: heavy angst
Masterlist
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater
You said it looked better on me than it did you
Only if you knew how much I liked you
"You shivering. Here, take my swaeter." Vivianne said and took off her sweater. Her shirt also lift up a bit and expossed her abs a little. With a blush you looked away. You took of your thin excuse of a jacket in the winter and pulled her sweater over your head.
She took your jacket in hand. "Better?" Viv asked with a smile, when she saw that you stopped to shiver.
"Yes, thank you, Viv" You nodded. With a smile in Vivs face she led you to your apartment. Today was Team-bonding. Y'all went, to Jen and her girlfriends request, bowling. You had a great time. And like everytime Vivianne made sure you gonna end up safe home in the dark.
After a few minutes you reached your apartment. The walk and your alone time with Vivianne was sadly over.
"Thank you Viv, for taking me home." You thanked her.
"No need to apologize. It's always a pleasure with you." She smiled at you.
You were about to take off her sweater, when she wouldn't have stopped you. "No take it. It looks better on you then on me."
"You're sure. It's your favourite." You asked her shyly.
"Of course or I wouldn't have said that. Now sleep well, Y/n/n. See you tomorrow" With that she left, but not before she leant down and kissed your cheek. You were left as a frusterated mess. It was something Vivianne never does. And it gave you hope that she maybe likes you too.
But I watch your eyes as she
Walks by
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than the blue sky
She's got you mesmerized while I die
Like she said you were meeting the next day. Well mostly because it was training, but you didn't care. You only cared that Viv was waiting outside for you. Or so you thought. Actually was Vivianne waiting for Beth, but Beth texted her that she was already there. But as she saw you, she waited until you reached the entry.
She greeted you and walked with you to the locker room in silent. Her focus was clued on her phone. You wanted to ask her something, but as Beth came into Vivs side, she waked up to her and greeted her with a long huge. A little to long for your liking. After they broke apart both looked into each others eyes. You looked in Vivs eyes, they were shining. You wished she would have looked like that at you by your grreeting. Vivs focus was completely on Beth as they both walked together to the locker room, smilling. You stood there still, with pain in your heart as you watched them.
Why would you ever kiss me?
I'm not even half as pretty
The reality hit you like a fist as Vivianne and Beth came out as a couple. All the hints you have seen as you watched the loveable Vivianne Miedema are facing you now. All the hints you tried to push away. All the hints you claimed to be platonic were right.
So here you are on a teambonding night at Leahs and Jordans, feeling your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. You zoned out as all your teammates asks them question about their realationship. You couldn't listen, it (would have) broke your heart more. One question or better request broke you out of the zoned. And god did you hated Caitlin in this moment.
"Alright then kiss" Caitlin giggled mischievous like a little kid. Katie, also not being better, agreed with Caitlin. Wich causes Caitlin to get a slap on the shoulder from her girlfriend, Lia.
You watched both of them with a smile. But unfortunately the rest also agreed with Caitlin. Wich made Viv blush. It was cute. But the good mood from the blush went away quickly as Beth gave Vivs lips a short speck. Vivs blush got redder as everyone cheered on them, the new it-couple of Arsenal. Exept for one, you. You couldn't. It was too hard and you hoped no one saw it and was too busy cheering.
After this day you tried to find out what was wrong with you. Why weren't you enough for Vivianne? You started to envy Beth. Not only that she had Viv, but you also envied how she looks. You watched her in training and in the locker romm (of course not like a creep, but you sent her a few glances). You saw good trained she was. You saw her biceps, her toned legs or her abs on her stomach. You weren't this much into training at the gym. So you tried to skip it as often as you could. But maybe you should have been going more to the gym. Maybe you would be more pretty and attraktive.
Watch as she stands with her, holding your hand
Put your arm 'round her shoulder
Another thing that broke your heart and makes it ache is their physical contact. Beth always had her hands on Viv. You got the feeling beth knows about your feeling towards Viv and tries to torture you. She always holds Vivs hand. Wherever they go, they always hold hands.
But not only Beth has her hands on Viv, then Viv would often put her arm around Beth shoulder. She would whisper things in Beths ear. Things that made both smile. Looks like you can and another thing to your envy list.
"Aren't they cute together?" Katie asked you as she caught you starring at them.
There it was again. The pain in the chest. The pain of a broken heart.
"Yeah they are" You answered, trying to smile. You were happy Katie didn't paid much attention to your face as you answered.
The truth is they were cute, so fucking cute. But also so painful. So painful to watch at, but you can't stop watching. It was like your brain wanted you to extra hurt. And when you finally stop looking, a teammate comes and ruin everything.
"Aww look at them" or "they're so cute it's disgusting" are things your teammates say. Not to you in paticular, but your hear them and it's enough for you to look at the couple again.
But how could I hate her? She's such an angel
But then again, kinda wish she were dead
There was this one thing you tried to do, while watching them: you tried to hate Beth. You thought it would be easy hating the woman who's girlfriend is the woman you have feelings. You thought it would be easy to hate someone. Spioler it wasn't.
You really tried, but you started to see what Viv sees in Beth. Beth was a kind, loveable woman, impossible to hate. And no one did in the team. She was like the walking angel. Even though you can't hate her, sometimes you still wish she was dead. It wasn't because you are a cruel person ir anything. You could never hurt a fly, neither wishing someone dead. But you did it to Beth. You couldn't explain why, well maybe you could. But wishing Beths death is something you know is really fucked up.
And now you don't know who you can blame for your broken. It would never been Vivianne, she's perfect in your eyes. You tried to blame Beth, you tried to hate. But you realized, it isn't her fault either. She was inlove with someone. She made the move, you didn't do. So you got it. It was you to blame. And only you in your eyes.
But you like her better
Wish I were Beth
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vhagarlovebot · 2 years
Text
AEMOND TARGARYEN !
last update: december 10th, 2022. no longer being updated since i reached tumblr’s limit for links per post.
AEMOND TARGARYEN MASTERLIST #2
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─── ★ ONE-SHOTS.
NOT GOOD ENOUGH (nsfw)
you haven't consummated your marriage and your husband is the only one with an answer.
UNLUCKY FAITH (angst)
did aemond targaryen ever love you?
FRUSTRATION (hurt/comfort)
aemond had a terrible day and puts all his frustration on you.
WON’T LET GO (hurt/comfort)
aemond is in pain and you want to help, but he doesn't want to scare you.
HEARTBEAT (fluff)
aemond sees you playing around with one of helaena’s children and doesn’t hesitate to join.
MY KING (nsfw)
you ride aemond on the iron throne.
INTO YOU (hurt/comfort)
aemond comes to visit his sister at collage and you’re surprised to find out that he’s actually there for you.
DOOMED LOVE (angst)
the love you feel for aemond is forbidden.
YOU NEVER REALLY SEE ME (hurt/comfort)
aemond is jealous because you are spending too much time with aegon.
JUST THE TWO OF US (fluff)
you end up sharing the bed with aemond.
DON’T TELL NOBODY (suggestive, angst)
you and aemond hate each other but he would do anything to protect you.
STAND BY YOU | PART 2
you've been betrothed since you were a child to prince aemond targaryen and this is the first time you're meeting him. however, you've always had his back.
I WON’T GIVE UP (hurt/comfort)
aemond has a lot of insecurities and this time they end up being stronger than his love for you.
WHAT WENT WRONG? (angst)
when you left king’s landing you and aemond promised to send each other letters but he didn’t keep his promise. now you are back ready to find some answers, but aemond is no the same one he used to be and you might not like what he has to say.
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─── ★ BLURBS & DRABBLES.
PRINCE AEMOND:
getting flustered when you catch aemond’s gaze on you
braiding aemond's hair
aemond targaryen is shy around women
aemond feeling jealous
uncle!aemond who scares all your posible suitors
aemond targaryen’s love language is physical touch
aemond never really cared about his nameday
aemond who…
aemond talking to vhagar about you
aemond likes to hug you from behind
aemond’s thoughts on being a father
aemond would never hit a woman
calling aemond pretty
aemond being upset with you
“i don’t think i can be just friends with you”
aemond father-son relationship with ser criston cole
making out with aemond in dark hallways
aemond loves how shy you are around him
fake-dating with aemond
upholding the family’s honor
aemond targaryen’s love language is words of affirmation
aemond is good at controlling himself
hugging aemond
praising aemond and making him feel better
the first time aemond showed his affection for you
aemond likes to leave hickeys on you
aemond just wants to feel you
“maybe this is it, because i can’t do this anymore!”
mornings with aemond
aemond targaryen is tall
aemond takes care of you when you’re sick
aemond loves your lips
aemond who… pt2
aemond likes to have his cock buried deep inside you
“my heart was made to be broken anyway”
aemond targaryen is touch starved
aemond is there for you during a thunderstorm
make-up sex with aemond
aemond can’t remember the moment he fell in love
aemond loves going down on you
the aftermath of a fight with aemond
taking care of aemond after an exhausting day
aemond has a nightmare
aemond doesn’t share his problems with anyone but you
aemond doesn’t give a shit about tourneys
aemond will kill anyone who dares to put a hand on you
aemond likes when you tell him how big he is
the night aemond was taken away from you
getting insecure at seeing aemond with another woman
admiring and kissing aemond under the moonlight
aemond teaches you high valyrian
aemond is your best friend
calling aemond “daddy” in bed + spit play and subspace
aemond fucks you with his dagger
skinny dipping with aemond
aemond edges you and you squirt without his permission
the first time aemond yelled at you
aemond is tired and lets you do all the work
“you should be carrying my child”
aemond likes being the big spoon
aemond wakes you up
trying to bake with aemond
aemond’s been busy and he finally has time for you
aemond growing a beard
aemond is jealous
MODERN!AEMOND:
cooking with modern!aemond
modern!aemond is your neighbor
modern!aemond cares for only one person
modern!aemond likes to leave little notes for you
modern!aemond and you under the mistletoe
it’s hard for modern!aemond to be vulnerable
watching horror movies with modern!aemond
modern!aemond loves…
modern!aemond and the first time you stay with him
modern!aemond deeply in love with latina!reader
modern!aemond likes his sisters’ roommate
modern!aemond has a soft spot for you
helping modern!aemond get through hard days
modern!aemond would definitely stop smoking for you
modern!aemond falling in love with you
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─── ★ MISCELLANEOUS.
aemond’s personality
how i think modern!aemond would look like
aemond and trust / friendship
aemond and alicent the night he lost his eye
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© vhagarlovebot on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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