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#nice to see her get some recognition
princessanneftw · 2 years
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The quiet power of Princess Anne
Grace, restraint and graft: in times of crisis, the Princess Royal comes to the fore.
By Camilla Tominey for The Telegraph
When the Princess Royal stood guard with her brothers, with calm dignity, by her late mother Queen Elizabeth’s coffin at the vigil at St Giles’ Cathedral on Monday, she made history as the first woman to do so. But this solemn moment was also emblematic of her dedication to her mother, and the strength and steadfastness of spirit that have long made her a jewel in the Crown.
It was Anne, her trusted confidante, who her mother had chosen to accompany the coffin on its journey from Balmoral, and to fly with it to RAF Northolt from Edinburgh. On her arrival in London, in just 120 words, the Princess Royal last night encapsulated what has been an extraordinarily moving few days.
“I was fortunate to share the last 24 hours of my dearest Mother’s life,” she wrote in a poignant tribute. “It has been an honour and a privilege to accompany her on her final journeys”. She went on to thank mourners for their love and respect and the British public for the support shown to her brother the new King. She ended her statement simply: “To my mother, The Queen, thank you.”
The Princess Royal had been in Scotland for two days when she had to make the dash to her mother’s bedside at Balmoral Castle to see her for the very last time.
Having visited Tarbert, a village in the west, before spending the previous day on the Isle of Skye, the late Queen’s only daughter had been due to carry out a series of engagements in Perthshire last Thursday morning when news reached her of her mother’s deteriorating condition. She quickly informed her siblings of the situation, prompting Charles to take a helicopter to travel from Dumfries House, where he had been staying, to Royal Deeside. If there is any consolation to Queen Elizabeth’s unexpectedly rapid demise, it is that her son and daughter were already in Scotland and could be with her at the end.
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Ever since that heartbreaking day for the royals, the Crown has endured, with the smooth transition to the reign of Charles III supported by a family united in its desire to lead a nation in respectful mourning.
But there has also been one constant: Princess Anne, the ever-dutiful daughter who has played such a dignified role in what the King has described as their late mother’s “last great journey.”
From accompanying the funeral cortège on the poignant six-hour drive through the Scottish Highlands to Edinburgh on Sunday, to yesterday evening’s final flight to London – Anne, 72, has once again proved her willingness to go the extra mile for an institution she has served unwaveringly for more than half a century.
But this wasn’t just a case of a daughter serving Crown and country. Once the arrangements had been made to convey Queen Elizabeth back to Buckingham Palace, ahead of today’s four-day lying in state at Westminster Hall, it was the Princess Royal’s solemn wish that she should be with her every sombre step of the way.
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The decision could not be more symptomatic of Anne and the solid presence she has proved to be for a monarchy that has been riven with sibling rivalry in recent years. Amid all the conflict between the King and Prince Andrew – not to mention the ongoing rift between the Prince of Wales and Duke of Sussex – Anne has always risen above: the embodiment of her late mother’s “keep calm and carry on” mantra.
While the grief that was etched on her face as she curtseyed to Queen Elizabeth’s coffin upon its arrival at St Giles’ Cathedral on Monday may have shocked those used to her resolute stoicism, it came as no surprise to those who know the Princess well.
As one friend put it: “I was speaking to someone who used to work for the Princess and we both agreed how distraught she looked. But her dedication to her mother over the years has been tireless. She is just like Queen Elizabeth in being a truly remarkable woman.”
Anne has always quietly got on with the job, sailing through the tricky times by keeping her head down, and focusing on her role as one of the monarchy’s most prolific performers. As well as being one of the hardest-working royals, she has carried out her role without fuss or fanfare, largely eschewing press coverage despite the enormous value of her contribution to The Firm.
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Having never felt the need to surround herself with the trappings of royal life, the famously frugal Princess chose not to give titles to her children, Peter Phillips, 44, and Zara Tindall, 41, preferring them to make their own way in life.
In a sign of just how tight-knit they are, the family all live together on Anne’s Gatcombe Park estate. Zara and her rugby player husband Mike share Aston Farm with their three children Mia, eight, Lena, four and one-year-old Lucas, while a stone’s throw away is the cottage where Peter lives with his daughters Savannah, 11, and Isla, 10. So convivial is the scene that Anne remains on very good terms with her ex-husband Mark Phillips, to whom she was married from 1973 to 1992, and let him live on the estate for years following their divorce.
Visitors to Gatcombe Park, an 18th-century country residence in Minchinhampton, Gloucestershire, speak of a thoroughly down-to-earth and outdoorsy set-up where, when she’s off-duty, Anne is known to be “warm”, “funny” and “affectionate” towards her children and grandchildren.
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“The Princess is the type of woman who will come up to you and shake your hand rather than expecting you to go to her,” added the friend. “Yes, she is a stickler for protocol but in her private life she is incredibly funny. I remember one time when I asked her which of her grandchildren was the best at riding. I suggested Mia because Zara is such an accomplished horsewoman but the Princess signalled Mia’s lack of interest by doing an impression of the “Am I bovvered?’’ character from Catherine Tate. It was exactly like the TV show, which she had clearly watched. “
On another occasion we were at an event and the Princess suddenly asked, “anyone for a sandwich?” and started making cheese and coleslaw sandwiches and handing them out. I’ve often seen her going around with a tray of canapés. She’s just a normal person,” they continued. “Her house at Gatcombe – it’s quite cluttered. I’m sure it probably needs quite a lot of work doing to it, but she deplores waste. She’ll always look to save costs wherever she can.”
Like her late mother, Anne has also found her “strength and stay” in her husband Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence, described by those who know him as “kind” and “decent”. “He’s not an exciting person but he’s an absolute gentleman, terribly nice,” was how one insider describes him.
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The couple, who are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary in December, share a love of sailing and have a yacht, Ballochbuie, moored in a remote harbour on the west coast of Scotland. Their sailing holidays, which usually take place in the early summer, sandwiched between the more than 500 engagements that Anne carries out in a year, are considered to be sacrosanct.
So what will happen to the couple now there has been a significant shift in the royal order?
According to one former royal aide: “I don’t think anything will change for the Princess at all. She doesn’t need to do any stepping up, she’s already done that.
“I don’t think there will be any change in her status or titles and she’s never indicated that she wants to slow down,” they add. “She’s a workaholic and incredibly well respected by her charities and patronages, so she’ll surely just keep calm and carry on.”
There is no suggestion that Zara or Mike will take on any public duties, although both do their bit for charity – and will act as stalwart supports to the Prince and Princess of Wales, to whom they are very close (Zara is Prince George’s only royal godparent while it is thought William is Mia’s godfather).
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Anne’s proximity in age to the King, 73, means that, of all the siblings, she will likely act as his closest confidante – but they have always led quite separate lives. With their brother Andrew having stepped back from royal duties, Anne will continue to be a “front-row royal” along with the Earl and Countess of Wessex in the court of King Charles.
But first they face the not inconsiderable task of laying their late mother to rest. Having played a central role in Monday night’s “Vigil of the Princes”, when she became the first female to ever take part in the historic ritual, Anne will once again be prominent in today’s walking procession from Buckingham Palace to Westminster Hall – as well as Monday’s concluding ceremony.
Long regarded as a “Daddy’s girl” thanks to her similar no-nonsense temperament to Prince Philip, what we have learned this sorrowful week is that the woman who was never destined to be Queen has proved herself once again to be every inch her mother’s daughter.
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steviesbicrisis · 5 months
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A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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workinatdapyramid · 8 months
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august 𐐪𐑂
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steven conklin x fem!fisher!reader
WARNINGS: fighting, cursing, underage drinking, shayla isn’t in this soz, angsty teens lol, mentions from scenes in the books!, reader doesn’t like taylor, book taylor personality ( show taylor >>>> )
SUMMARY: it wasn’t belly that found out about taylor and steven, it was his best friends little sister
m’s blah blah blahhhhh: we need some more steven appreciation on here… GIVE MY SWEET BOY SOME RECOGNITION!!!
take a peak ;)
this is kind of long… i kinda got carried away LOLZ SORRT NOT SORRY
* .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
“twenty bucks she calls you jeremy again.” belly chuckles.
you, belly, and your older brother stood at the curb waiting for bellys best friend taylor at the bus stop. today was bellys 16th birthday which meant hurricane taylor visiting for the day.
you weren’t exactly fond of her ever since the summer she came to visit when you guys were 14. yes, you had to play nice with her for belly but stringing along your older brother jeremiah wasn’t exactly a good start to a friendship.
you chuckled beside the newly 16 year old as jere teasingly pushed her into you from his place beside her.
“i don’t.. i think she learned from last time.” he argued. “you think?” you teased, making a mental note that jere will infact be handing over that $20 before the end of the night.
“that’s how she flirts with you” belly mocked facing you as you both made smooching noises.
the bus pulled up infront of you guys, the brakes making a loud hissing noise.
“here she comes.” you say rolling your eyes as the short girl barely fits through the bus doors with the pile of balloons tied to her wrists.
the long time best friends squeal and hug reuniting for the first time since summer began causing you to roll your eyes even more.
jere turns toward you mouthing be nice
“belly you tart! you finally took my advice this outfit is snatched,” taylor spun the brunette in a circle admiring her dress. “isn’t belly looking like a snack?” she asked jeremiah a hint of something mischievous in her eyes.
“always.” the curly headed blonde smiled. he reached for taylor’s bag being the kind boy your mother raised him to be. taylor smirks batting her eyelashes up at the tall boy.
“thank you. you’re such a gentleman, jeremy.” she giggles.
you stood off to the side watching the interaction laughing to yourself knowing your brothers going to be $20 short when we get home.
“hey taylor long time no see.” you smiled offering the girl a polite side hug.
“omg y/n i didn’t even see you there, when did you get hot?” she questioned looking you up and down.
gosh this was going to be a long day.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
you sat beside taylor, jeremiah and belly across from you. a banana float melting in the middle of the table as belly opened her gift from her best friend. a pink bikini. jeremiah teased her about but you knew deep down he can’t wait to see her in it.
taylor takes a bite of the frozen treat as she said, “okay, so, whats the plan for tonight? where’s the party?”
“well, susannah always plans a big lobster dinner.” belly smiles as she puts the bathing suit back in the bag.
you and jere smiling towards each-other, being big fans of the birthday dinner tradition.
“boring. no.” taylor whines causing the three of you to look towards her with furrowed brows. “it’s your 16th birthday. we have to go out” the red head continued.
“no, no, no. these dinners are really, really fun.” belly tried to reason with her stubborn friend.
“yeah, and my mom had the idea to make it midsommar themed, so she got flower crowns especially made for us and everything.” you added taylor quickly glances at you then turns back towards her best friend.
“don’t you think you should be spending your birthday with people your own age?” taylor says taking another spoonful into her mouth.
“i am. you’re here.” belly said clearly annoyed by her bossyness.
“hello? am i invisible?” jeremiah cuts in trying to defuse the tension. he was really good at that. “and i guess steven.” taylor smirks. you shift uncomfortably hoping no one notcied. your brother obviously did scoffing at taylor’s remark.
you look towards belly, her already looking back. everyone in the house knows about your crush on steven the same way they knew about belly with conrad. ever since you were younger the boy was your prince charming. always being there in to cheer you up or piss you off but hey, that’s steven.
“and cams coming, too.” belly quickly changes the subject. you sigh silently thanking her.
“yay, i’m so excited to meet the guy who finally got you to take your eyes off of you-know-who.” taylor jokes.
as quickly as belly was to change the subject she quickly regretted it.
“taylor.” belly warned glancing towards jeremiah.
you coughed.
way to go taylor.
queen of making people feel uncomfortable..
“i have an idea. we can go to nicole’s big blowout at her place tonight. maybe go after dinner?” jere once again defusing the tension
you watched as taylor started at belly
“um yes!” taylor squealed in a matter of fact voice.
“woah, only if bells wants to go? it’s her birthday after all. we gotta do what whatever she wants. boring dinner or not.” you tell taylor not missing the look she gave you. you felt jeremiah lightly kick your leg under the table. you looked towards him. giving him a ‘what?’ expression.
you know how taylor can make belly feel like a side character most of the time and you’ll be dammed if you let taylor do that on her birthday.
belly smiles toward you silently thanking you for having her back.
“who’s nicole?” taylor asked jeremiah turning her harsh glance away from you.
belly smiles excited to fill in her best friend with the plans she’s made over here in cousins.
“she’s my big sister for the deb ball. she’s super nice and just really cool and fun and-
“ugh, i’m, like melting right now. can we go back to the house? i want to change into my bikini and jump in the pool.” taylor interupts belly looking at jere as she finished her sentence.
you roll your eyes standing up from the table as jeremiah says sure
taylor skips toward the car
jeremiah walking next to her as she called shot gun.
“come on bells.” you say putting your arm around her shoulders offering her a sympathetic smile.
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back at the house you, belly, jeremiah, steven, and taylor were in the pool. belly and taylor on one side jeremiah and steven on the other side.
you swam towards the two boys who were hanging off the edge of the pool deck.
“oh hey y/n/n you spying on us?” jeremiah teased. you rolled you eyes splashing him with the cold water. you hated when he called you that. stupid nickname that only reminded you of being a kid.
“stop calling me that i’m not five anymore.” you stuck your tongue out at him, he playfully did it back.
“yeah man cmon y/n’s all grown now. she’s not my little y/n/n anymore.” steven jokingly puts his hand over his heart in agony.
you dunk his head under the water in return, trying to hide your blush from him. it was moments like these where you had hope for something more. where you didn’t just feel like his best friends little sister anymore.
steven quickly comes up from the water his dark wet hair covering his eyes.
“oh yeah?” he challenged lifting you up and dunking you under the water.
you resurface hearing jeremiah and him share a laugh and a high five.
“oh screw you steve-o” you yelled splashing the boy who had your heart.
“any time any place.” he smirked.
gosh that smirk
jeremiah fake gags as your cheeks stained a pretty pink. steven always knew how to give you butterflies.
“we know you’re gossiping about us over there.” you hear taylor say causing stevens glance to change towards her.
as quickly as he gave you butterflies they were fast to be replaced with a pit in your stomach. you shift your gaze down as the two go back in forth with playful banter.
“let’s play chicken! i call steven!” taylor yelled.
you quickly moved towards the pool stairs to hide your frown from the others.
“i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help with dinner.” your voice barely above a whisper. the cool breeze causing you to shiver as you climb out of the pool
“you sure y/n/n?” jeremiah asks you, clearly noticing your mood change.
“yeah it’s fine there was an uneven amount anyways.” you grab your towel and head for the house not turning back
jeremiah turns towards belly, both teens sharing a knowing look.
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you sat on the couch of your second home sulking in your wet towel. mentally cursing at yourself for letting her get to you. you should be out there having fun. it’s bellys birthday for crying out loud.
your thoughts were soon cut short as connie, your oldest brother walks into the living room.
“hey dimples,” he says standing behind your seat on the couch, “why aren’t you out there with the others?” he asks ruffling his calloused hand through your wet hair.
you softly smile at the nickname. connie called you that ever since you guys were younger. oh how you missed your sweet brother
“taylors here.” you mutter pushing his hand away. he chuckles plopping himself down on the couch next to you. “aw, you mean your best friend?” he teases. “yeah fuck you” you shove him lightly chuckling.
“you can’t let her get to you kid. that’s just how she is” he sighs.
“yeah the same girl that hates you because you didn’t like her that summer she was like 14? that’s just how she is.” you roll your eyes doing finger quotes at the last part. connie laughs.
“why don’t you just tell steven how you feel already so you can stop sulking around all summer?” he asks.
you quickly sit up turning towards him with wide eyes. “you’re one to talk mr dark and mysterious. i don’t see you confessing your undying love for belly!” you challenge him reaching over smacking him with a throw pillow.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about… shut up.” he whispers.
you laugh shifting closer to your brother you lay your head on his shoulder. “besides he only see me as a kid anyways. i’ll always be just conrad and jeremiah’s little sister to him.” you sigh closing your eyes.
you stay like that for a while. just enjoying eachothers company. ever since april conrad’s been distant towards everyone so you miss having moments like these with your brother.
“aw my sweet angels.” you hear your mom squeal as she walked into the kitchen.
“hi mom hi laur.” you smile getting up from the couch and greeting your favorite women with a hug.
“do you need help with those?” conrad points to the brown bag full of corn on the counter.
“yes actually, we were supposed to keep dinner light but you know your mom.” laurel playfully side eyes her best friend.
“what?! it’s bellys 16th birthday.” she smiles. “and she’ll love it mom.” you smile back.
“wanna shuck these for us since your not busy?” susannah asked you and conrad pointing towards the corn.
“omg do you hear that? yeah i think bellys calling me. i gotta go hang with taylor and the birthday girl sorry love you bye!” you quickly run back outside.
“i’ll do it mom.” conrad rolls his eyes grabbing the bag.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
once outside you see steven sitting on the porch and jere climbing out of the pool. taylor and belly were probably off walking along the shore down by the beach.
jeremiah notices you and takes his leave inside claiming his need for a shower leaving you and steven outside.
“are you alright?” steven asks straining his neck to look at you standing behind him. "you kind of left in a hurry before."
you walk over sitting next to him on the porch steps.
“i’m fine conklin.” you laugh shifting your arms around your stomach. you tried so hard not to seem nervous around him but he could read you like a book.
steven chuckled looking away from you back towards the ocean. “okay.” he laughs. “but you could talk to me about anything. i’m serious i’ll always be here for you y/n/n.” he says more seriously this time.
you turn to him to see he was already looking at you. you search for something to say, anything, but you couldn't so you settle for a comforting smile. your breathe starts to quicken as you realize how close you guys were. steven noticed it too. his chest moving up and down at a fast pace.
“i just sometimes wish things were different.” you whispered half hoping he didn’t hear you but you knew he did.
“how so?” he whispered back. his gaze locked on your eyes intense.
for a moment you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked to your lips then back up to your eyes but theres no way.. right?
steven wouldn’t kiss you.. would he? no.
he just sees you as his best friends little sister. nothing more…
you're internally screaming as he slowly leans in
your eyes flutter shut waiting to feel his soft lips against yours
this is it.
finally
this is what you’ve wanted your whole life.
“oh hey y/n” you hear taylor yell as her and belly walk back up to the house.
steven quickly jumps up not saying a word as he rushed into the house.
you wanted to die.
just shrivel up and die.
you blink rappidly getting rid of the tears forming in your eyes and smile up towards the two girls.
“i’m starving! let’s go wash up before dinner.” belly smiles pulling you up from the steps and walking into the house.
it’s just one day it’s just one day it’s just one day
you kept reminding yourself as you trailed behind the hurricane pouring on your love life
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
the table was littered with plates filled with delicious food. there was vases of flowers in the middle that matched with the flower crowns on belly, taylor, and your heads. the dinning room was filled with chatter and giggles from everyone getting along.
susannah and laurel sat on opposite ends of the table refilling the hungry teenagers plates. taylor, belly, you, and cam on one side and jere, conrad, and steven on the other.
“thank you so much for having me susannah! my moms says hi.” cam, bellys boyfriend smiled holding his fork up to show his thanks for the food.
you laugh along with the others as the moms interrogate bellys first boyfriend. cam cameron was the nickname everyone called him. you liked him. it’s like he fit right in with the rest of you guys. you were so happy for belly.
“why don’t you eat meat, cam cameron?” jeremiah asked the shy boy. he tries his best to seem intimidating but ultimately cracks his signature smile. classic jere.
“i like animals.” he answered simply. not bothered by all the questions thrown his way.
you adjust the flower crown on your head accidentally making eye contact with steven. you guys haven’t spoke since almost kissing on the stairs. you intend to keep it that way not wanting to have that talk.. the 'you're my best friends little sister we can't do this' talk.
you quickly look away feeling the pit in your stomach return.
“just don’t come for my leather jacket.” taylor chuckles from the other side of the table. you genuinely laughed. she was kinda funny sometimes.
your laugh quickly disappeared once you heard steven teasing her. he just always had an answer when it came to taylor didn’t he.
you finish the rest of your lobster with a sigh patting your well fed stomach.
“that was really good mom.” you said. causing sighs in agreement around the table.
“i agree! thank you too y/n. kinda glad you went inside to help cook after all.” steven said looking at you. the first thing he said to you since what happened on the porch. you look at him with a blank expression.
jeremiah changes the subject going right back to interrogating cam cameron about eating meat which ended in him quickly pecking bellys lips.
you laugh but quickly glance towards conrad who was already looking back down at his plate.
steven and jeremiah both pretend to retch. “i’m sorry i just don’t understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in the bathtub.” classic steven says embarrassing his little sister.
“i was like two years old!” belly argues
“two? more like six!” jeremiah and steven yelled at the same time. the two immature boys erupt in laughter.
you playfully roll you eyes at the two while belly yells at her brother to shut up.
“i remember when i visited last summer, and you and you dared him to pee in the fireplace, and you stink up the entire house for days. do you remember that?” taylor points towards your brothers and steven. you all laughed reliving all the memories this house held.
“you know i’m thinking.. maybe we should go to nicole’s party.” belly turns toward taylor and you smiling.
“yes!” you and taylor said at the same time.
boy did you need alcohol in your system after the day you had.
after a few more jokes and steven and bells bickering everyone decided to get ready for the party.
you were touching up your makeup in your bedroom when you heard a knock at your door.
“its open” you said not looking towards the door as you reapplied your mascara.
“hey little fisher” you heard steven say as he closed the door. you almost dropped the mascara wand. you turned around facing him uttering a small hey.
“i know we are about to leave for the party but do you think when we get back home we could talk about what happened on the porch?” you could tell he was nervous. he didn’t meet your gaze at all and he was fidgeting.
“but nothing happened on the porch” you felt a pang in your chest.
he sighed, “i know but that’s the thing..” he said stepping closer to you. “i wanted something to happen.” he finished.
you swallowed. “oh” was all you could say.
you guys stood there for a while. silence filled the room.
“i also wanted it to happen. so yes, we can talk about it when we get home” you smile. you can’t believe this is happening right now.
“okay.” he smiled
“okay.” you said as he turned around to leave your room looking back at you one last time.
once you were sure he walked away from the door you jumped up and down looking at yourself in the mirror.
“fuck yeah y/n fuck yeah.” you whispered to yourself smiling ear to ear.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
gotta give it to jere he always knew how to make a scene. you and belly sat on the couch hysterical watching cam cameron and jeremiah singing horrendously along to summer loving.
maybe coming to the party was a good idea after all. “i can’t stand to watch this any longer i’m gonna go find a bathroom.” you laughed getting up from the couch.
you squeezed through all the drunken bodies dancing together on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. you found nicole standing by the drink table.
“oh hey y/n” she greets you with a tight hug. “are you having fun?” she asks taking a sip from whatever was in her cup.
“actually i really am. you sure know how to throw a banger.” you said cringing at yourself. god why are you so awkward.
nicole just smiled
“hey um where’s the bathroom?” you asked actually needing to pee after all.
“the one downstairs has a line it hasn’t moved in ages so just go upstairs! it’s right to your left!” she said.
you thanked her as you made your way towards the stairs. jeremiah, belly, and cam standing near by.
“hey have you seen taylor?” belly asked you. you shook your head no. “i'll help you find her after i use the bathroom?” you ask. she thanked you.
the music faded as you walked up the stairs of nicole’s house. yeah the beach house was big but nothing compared to this. if you didn’t ask nicole where to go you definitely would’ve gotten lost.
you opened the door on the left but it was preoccupied by a couple hooking up. you quickly muttered sorry as you closed the door shaking your head to forget the sight.
you kept looking for an open room hoping to find one with a bathroom in it.
gosh how you hated horny drunk teenagers.
you opened the last door praying to all the gods it was free and had a bathroom. you were about to piss your pants.
you opened the door and all of a sudden the urge to pee was gone.
there in the room was taylor propped on the dresser making out with steven.
your steven.
he was standing between her legs. his hands on her waist as they made out.
your mouth was dry
you couldn’t process the scene in front of you.
you wanted to crumble to the ground and cry.
“conklin?” your voice cracked as steven whipped his head around to see you standing at the door.
taylor quickly hopped off the dresser pulling her dress down.
“oh, my god- shit” steven said as you turned around and made a beeline for the stairs.
“y/n wait!” he yelled as he ran after you.
you made it to the bottom of the stairs causing a few people to look at you running away from the brunette boy.
“y/n/n? what happened?” jeremiah was the first to notice you. you wiped the fallen tears from your cheeks as belly and cam also noticed you.
by then steven caught up to you. you went to run out of the house but was quickly stopped by him gradding your wrist.
“y/n just stop let me explain-
“explain what steven?” you yelled.
if no one noticed before they definitely noticed now.
the chattering around the house quickly stopped as you yelled at steven.
“y/n please. i’m sorry it just happened.” steven tried to plead with you. regret written all over his face.
you looked at him in disbelief.
“go to hell.” your yelled you voice broke as the tears kept spilling from your eyes.
you yanked your wrist from his grasp and looked at belly. mascara stained your cheeks. “i found taylor” you whispered before walking out the door. leaving steven there, carrying your broken heart along with his..
* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
AHHHH TYSM FOR READING THIS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ( pls be nice this is my first actual fic i’ve written! )
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strangersmunsons · 2 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.
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“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 
His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”
“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”
“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”
Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.
Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”
~
Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic. 
Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.
But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.
He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving — 
“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door. 
“Come in,” he calls back.
Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”
Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”
Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”
Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”
“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself. 
~
Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. 
His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.
Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.
You.
You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.
Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.
He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.
Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.
Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.
As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.
You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.
Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?
He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.
You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you. 
Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you. 
But nothing. The seconds tick by.
You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”
You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”
He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.
“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.
Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”
Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”
College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”
“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”
“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”
“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”
“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”
“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.
Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I’m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”
“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”
A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”
There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”
Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.
“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”
You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win. 
“Sure. That would be really fun.”
He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —
“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.
“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”
“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”
You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer. 
Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”
“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”
He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is? 
From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it. 
Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”
Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.
Okay, okay. 
Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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a-kaash-me-outside · 23 days
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˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚
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♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡
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- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]
on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto. 
after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.
fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good
he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.
in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.
the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”
the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you. 
when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.
the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”
you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”
the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”
you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.
he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.” 
you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”
he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”
you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back. 
when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in. 
but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.
your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs. 
“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable. 
he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest. 
“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.
you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.
“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”
his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin. 
you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.
there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you. 
when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”
in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?” 
he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.
“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]
you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.
you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-
you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door. 
but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient. 
you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 
toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.
now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.
“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body. 
you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait. 
“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure. 
“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”
“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration. 
you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence. 
“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now. 
you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”
“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils. 
“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question. 
one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope. 
one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think. 
but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less. 
“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view. 
“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.
“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates. 
you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.
“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes. 
you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.
“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”
you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”
he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”
“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.
“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.
“clearly,” you interject.
“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.
“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer. 
“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?
“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest. 
“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.
“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.
the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left. 
his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”
“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me. 
“whatever you want,” he answers instead.
you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.
“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated. 
“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”
and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?
“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along. 
“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now. 
“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”
“and do you?” you ask.
his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.
“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.
“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?” 
“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that. 
“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.
you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)
“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”
“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want. 
“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever. 
“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”
“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”
you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it. 
“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]
being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee. 
like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.
but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.
so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee. 
but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee. 
yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee. 
you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee. 
and it works for a while.
but not forever.
three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt. 
you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.
“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.
“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.
“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.
“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead. 
you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful. 
“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”
it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”
“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either. 
you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession. 
“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.
“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.
“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”
“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”
he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.
“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.
“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.
“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.
“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”
“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too. 
he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”
“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too. 
“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too. 
“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again. 
he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.
“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.
he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says. 
“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.
“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”
even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips. 
he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body. 
why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]
you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme. 
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs. 
you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?
he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.
you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat. 
when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”
“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act. 
he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”
you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”
“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall. 
“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.
the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?” 
you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”
he nearly comes inside of you right there.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out. 
you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure. 
but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this. 
it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out. 
you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.
and then one night you can’t find your keys. 
you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen. 
when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”
you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”
he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes. 
you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”
“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere. 
you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”
from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”
“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.
he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”
“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked. 
15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?” 
your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs. 
you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.
“how do you know?” he asks.
“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”
“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.
you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face. 
eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.
“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering. 
he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”
you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”
it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost. 
it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.
in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.
you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs. 
you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together. 
you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”
you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur. 
“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”
“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree. 
he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?” 
and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.
you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow. 
nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]
“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence. 
you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump. 
nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)
he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask. 
he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”
you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”
“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”
“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”
it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not. 
now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”
“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement. 
he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.
“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”
he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”
you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”
“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before. 
“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”
“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile. 
he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak. 
you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about. 
“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”
you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree. 
“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response. 
“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap. 
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:
>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby
<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)
>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????
<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!
>> nami <3 >> google tbh. 
<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(
>> nami <3 >> goodbye.
<< read << :(
>> nami <3 >> i love you
<< read << :)
you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy. 
arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case. 
he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”
if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop. 
he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word. 
by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky. 
“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too. 
he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are. 
“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles. 
everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time. 
it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you. 
when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop. 
you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back. 
the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety. 
“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur. 
he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter. 
“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates. 
sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder. 
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♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP
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ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)
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whywishesarehorses · 2 years
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Pensioner sets off on 600-mile pony trek with pet dog in saddlebag
Jane Dotchin, 80, has been making the unusual journey from Northumberland to the Highlands since 1972. (Story from STV News)
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An 80-year-old woman who wears an eyepatch is on an annual trek with her pony from England to the Highlands – on a seven-week adventure which began in 1972.
Jane Dotchin packs her saddlebags onto her trusty pony’s back every year, and heads to the hills from her home near Hexham, Northumberland, on an epic 600-mile trek to Inverness, covering between 15 and 20 miles a day.
She set off on August 31 with her steed, Diamond, aged 13, and her disabled Jack Russell named Dinky for company, from the off-grid smallholding where she lives.
She carries everything she needs including her tent, food and just a few belongings – and despite wearing an eyepatch is determined to continue as long as she can.
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Ms Dotchin said: “My mother would look after my other ponies but she wasn’t that keen on looking after my Halfinger stallion, so I rode him down to Somerset to see a friend, which is about 300 miles.
“It was a bit of a hard slog, but it was good.”
After that initial journey, she caught the taste for the open road and travelled to visit friends near Fort Augustus, near Loch Ness, every autumn since.
The journey takes around seven weeks depending on weather and Ms Dotchin tries to stop off to see people she has met over the years.
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She said: “I refuse to go slogging on through pouring wet rain.
“There are a few different routes I can take depending on the weather.
“I don’t want to go over hilltops in foul weather, but I work it out on the way.
“I don’t bother with maps, I just keep to the routes I know.
“It is nice to go and see [people] again – I ring them up in the morning to say I’m going to be there in the evening.
“I don’t warn them too far in advance, because if the weather suddenly changes or I decide to stop early then they can be left wondering where I’ve got to.”
Disabled Jack Russell Dinky, who has deformed front legs, travels in a saddle bag.
Ms Dotchin said: “She manages fine, when there is a nice grassy track she gets out and has a run, but she doesn’t like stoney ground but she is a nice hot water bottle for me in the tent.”
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She said: “I asked for something good and solid in my old age and he got me a cob from Ireland. I struggle to get on her half the time, but otherwise I manage fine.”
Her diet consists of porridge oats, oatcakes and cheese which is bought at local shops.
She prefers to make porridge with milk, but water will suffice.
Ms Dotchin added: “You can always boil it from a stream.”
Her bathroom habits are equally DIY, and she said: “I dig a hole.”
Ms Dotchin is devastated by the littering she has seen over the years and said Cumbernauld, North Lanarkshire, is somewhere she finds “shameful” due to the amount of rubbish.
She said: “It’s appalling, in particular single used barbecues which are left lying all over the place.
“Cumbernauld is the fly-tipping capital of Britain.
“There are some lovely people there who let me camp, but some of it is so disgusting and shameful.”
Campervans on single track roads have also become a more persistent problem.
She said: “Drivers just didn’t seem to know how wide they were, I was forever just about getting swept off the roads by them.”
The right to roam has helped with countryside access, but she said: “There are still some locked gates or little side gates that you can’t get a horse with packs on through.”
For emergencies she carries an old mobile phone as the battery lasts six weeks.
Ms Dotchin said: “I keep it switched off and just ring out to ring up landowners to get gates unlocked or to warn people when I’m coming but sometimes the trouble is getting a signal.”
During the foot and mouth crisis in 2001 she went on bicycle instead.
She said: “I covered many more miles with the dog in a pannier but it was not the same, I missed my horse.”
In recognition of her independent spirit, and many years of long distance trekking, she received The British Horse Society lifetime achievement award last year, which she said was “a bit of a surprise.”
During her travels she witnesses rutting deer and stags fighting in the autumn, and foxes.
She said: “There is always something interesting happening and there is never a dull moment.
“I will probably be stopped one of these days.”
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arcadia345 · 6 months
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Astro observations🤍🦢
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Not a real astrologer just my observations:)TW🔞
I noticed in 10th house Synastry house person could feel like planet person is shallow if you know them irl or it could be difficult to build a deeper connection w them but if it’s a celeb/far distance person you feel like you know them better than most people 💀 esp if it’s in a water sign notice me jungkook 💜
I’ve noticed people with outer planets in the 1st have shocking resemblance to their ancestors
Capricorn placements don’t get enough recognition for how many hidden gifts/ talented they are. I feel like people forget that they’re half goat/fish so their creativity can go overlooked(wow what a surprise). Wherever Capricorn/ Saturn is in you chart is where your hidden talents are, where you tend to feel shunned from/your biggest obstacles in life, where people try to belittle you because they see your potential. But once you realize your potential and work on it consistently you can become oh so powerful.
6th:their work ethic, natural healers, could be accused of being lazy, having haters at work, animals love them but they could’ve have bad experiences with them in the past, having good health/nice body if you’re persistent
3rd: being discouraged by your peers/teachers/family because of your communication skills, could do really well in later school years and also could be popular, feeling like your pov is never taken into thought, they could have been the child that was the most problematic but also the one that holds the family together like glue
12th: they sometimes could feel like a shadow also could see shadows💀 strong intuition without knowing it, people could spread lies behind ur back, another healer placement, you know other peoples fantasies & secrets bc of insights you get via dreams, having lots of hidden talents/info that you learn about yourself as you get older, definition of old souls
Also I’ve noticed Capricorn placements (esp fems) have strong intuition especially in tough situations they’re definitely the ones you go to for advice
My Capricorn stellium coworker said she basically worked all way till her due date with all her kids😳 but her last one almost came WHILE on the clock😭😭 like you need to rest mamas
Prominent Aries with a sprinkle of Neptune energy LOVE BLUSH and if you don’t please try it out you’d look so good😩and don’t be scared to experiment when it comes to makeup RAMS are meant to be BOLD example
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Having a crush on someone you have 11th house synastry especially mars or sun is so hard😭😭😭 it’s so hard to get them to see you as other than a friend 😕 not impossible tho😈
Libra moon masc tend to have heavy karma when it comes to women esp family members, could go either way but most of the time they’re the ones getting hurt by the fem
Have y’all noticed some older Scorpio suns still dress like they’re in 2013? Which isn’t surprising since that was around the time millennials (Scorpio Pluto gen) were thriving
Saturn in 4th, I’ve noticed that they’ve had to deal with restrictions at a young age either it be emotional or material especially when it comes to food I now people with this placement that were fatshamed by their family members
Sun in 12/6 could have absent fathers in different ways
6th:he could be incarcerated, a workaholic, could’ve been ill, could be in the army
12th: also could be incarcerated, you probably don’t know who your father is or never met him, he could have passed, could be obsessed with finding him/absolutely no interest at all, could have a dr*ug addiction
Sorry not sorry but Saturn in the 5th natals are so boring😴true definition of squares have some fun once and awhile they’re all work no play
A pair I love to see is Virgo with Aquarius/Capricorn it’s either VERY toxic or they have cutest relationship ever😭
Venus In 10th synastry, they could see each other as the best looking partner that they’ve ever had
I noticed I tend to have 3rd/4th house synastry with my pets, but the ones I have to give away have planets in my outer house
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That’s all for now don’t forget to like and follow🩶
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mistydeyes · 7 months
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Hi izzie,can you write what it would be like if one of soaps cousins that’s in SAS but often has time to visit the base and is dating 141 members
fem reader preferably
thank you so much for submitting! so sorry it took a hot minute for me to get to this but i hope you enjoy!
the invasion of the scots
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summary: As you walked into the briefing for your latest co-op mission with Task Force 141, all eyes were on you. Usually, this wasn't out of the ordinary as you were one of the first women to complete the full selection process for the SAS and your reputation preceded you. However, this was different as your gaze shifted from your surprised cousin and your terrified boyfriend.
pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader (codename: Peitho)
warnings: SWEARING
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"I'll see you all tomorrow at 08:00 for a briefing," Price announced as everyone exited the training room, "we might see some familiar faces, the SAS is loaning us some of their best." As they all walked to the showers, Soap just happened to be walking with the exhausted Ghost. "Have a cousin in the SAS wonder if she'll be there!" he hummed happily, "haven't seen her in ages." Simon nodded and hoped his suspicions would be wrong tomorrow. He turned on the shower and sat under the cold water for a moment. Out of the handful of women that was in the SAS, the chances of it being you were slim but never 0.
"Hey Peitho, are you ready to meet the renowned 141?" your friend joked as you exited your vehicle. "Just another room of sweaty men, it's like a basic Tuesday for me," you replied and jokingly punched his arm. "But you only hear whispers about these guys, no one doesn't even know how many of them there are." "I'll take my chances, Haystack," you muttered and you continued to follow your captain to the briefing room. As you walked through the linoleum hallways, you could feel the stares everyone was giving you. "Jesus, it's like they've never seen a woman before," you scoffed and Haystack turned to you. "It's not every day someone sees a legend like you." You smiled slightly at his compliment. It had been a few years since your big accomplishment. You and another woman had been the first to ever complete the full selection process. It was daunting to experience the grueling exercises and jeers of the other men but you would smile and take what was thrown at you. "I thought this was selection not a training run for Royal Navy," you'd spit and everyone backed off.
"Play nice," your captain warned before entering the door. You followed right behind him and walked to his right. "As promised Price, here's the best of the best," he announced as he gestured to the four of you. "Here we have, Buccaneer," everyone's gaze turned to the stoic man who stood at 6'7'', his dark hands and arms glistened with taupe-colored, healed scars. "Next there's Typhoon," and again, everyone's eyes shifted to the man who stood shorter than Buccaneer but whose body was pure muscle. He gave a small wave, followed by a crazed smirk. "Next, there's Haystack," your close friend walked forward as his pale skin and bleached hair practically blended into the wall, "got the reputation of being dead weight but he'll be the best combat medic you'll ever need." "Finally," you knew it was your turn and you stood forward, slightly.
You took a look around the room and noticed the men looking back up at you and their files. However, as your eyes drifted to the left, you could feel your eyes widen with recognition. There sat your cousin, you knew he was in the British Army but didn't realize he rose to this caliber. He had a slight smile on his face as he looked at you. However, your familial reunion would have to wait as you looked over at the broad man wearing a face mask. Although his face was obscured, you would recognize his figure and eyes anywhere. In fact, it was the one that was on top of you in bed a month ago. You swallowed as you both locked eyes. Why the fuck was Simon Riley here?
Your revelations were disrupted as your Captain continued his introductions. "We have, Peitho, one of the best women to ever make it out of selection. Don't even try anything with that one, she'll take you out before you can even utter a word," he joked and you nodded at his statement. "I assume you've all seen what they can do, I've given you our best hijacker, weapon specialist, combat medic, and covert operations specialist," he concluded and the floor was all Price's. "Thank you, Captain, they'll do great," he said confidently and the room boomed with his voice, "they can get to know my men on the plane." At this, everyone took a seat. You sat on the opposite end of Simon and Johnny, but you could feel their eyes on you. "Now for the debrief," Price directed and dimmed the lights to illuminate the large monitor on the display.
"I expect you all to review the floor plans our intel has provided," he directed as Sergeant Garrick yawned, "we will be leaving at 06:00 in two days." "Happy reading," Haystack commented as you both walked towards the exit. Before you could leave, Johnny placed a strong arm around your shoulders. "Y/N!" he exclaimed, "Haven't seen you in ages." You smiled up at him and reached a hand to ruffle his short, dark hair. "Pleasure seeing you again," you replied, "you're far from the lad who went to those raves." You both shared a smile as you caught up and exchanged some stories from the last few years. "Your mam said you were in the SAS, but I didn't know you were the one who completed the selection," he continued. "Told her not to brag," you replied, remembering how talkative your mother was especially when it came to her only daughter. Before you could continue, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You both turned and realized you were blocking the exit for Simon.
"Sorry about that, Simon," you said, almost instinctively. As the words tumbled out of your mouth, you realized the mistake you had made. "Simon?" Johnny questioned and you both knew you were doomed, "Y/N, how do you know Lt?" Fuck. Me. you thought internally as Simon's eyes shot to yours in a panic. "Um, some out-of-office relations," you choked out and before Simon could exit, Johnny grabbed his arm. "You fucking bastard," he muttered, "so this is where you've been spending your leave?" The situation was escalating as Simon escaped his grasp and crossed his arms over his chest. "My personal life is none of your business, Sergeant," he commanded and Johnny balled his hands into tight fists. "It does when it's my cousin!" he practically shouted and you hoped no one could hear the commotion.
"Johnny, calm down," you directed, "I had no idea, Simon even worked with you. It's only been 6 months since we met." Before anyone could continue, Captain Price stopped in the doorway. "Hey!" he boomed, "we have a mission in 36 hours, get on it." You all nodded like scolded children and began to make your way back to your quarters. Before you could part, you gave Simon a quick hug and turned to Johnny. He still had the same angered look on his face and you rolled your eyes. "Get over it, little Johnny boy," you teased at his childhood nickname and he looked away. "Fine, but you know there are serious implications of pumpin' a superior," he mumbled. He walked off and you looked back at Simon. "Surprise, love?" you said almost questioningly before Simon led you to his quarters to “review” the floor plans.
As you sat wedged between Simon and Johnny, you were getting to know Sergeant Garrick or Gaz as he preferred. "So Pietho like the Greek goddess?" he asked and you nodded. "Goddess of persuasion and seduction," you smiled before Simon hit your thigh lightly. "I think I'm gonna be sick," Johnny moaned and Gaz just looked even more confused.
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
Text
Hurt Me Once (OP81)
Summary: In which they just miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope.
Warnings: ANGSTTTT im so sorry ong this one’s REALLY rough so have fun!!!!
Note: i have a feeling i already know the answer but lmk if you want a part 2 lol
UPDATE: i made part 2
I’m sure it was nothing, but you never used to bring somebody else along. Used to be our thing, going to a movie then we’d wander home.
“We still on for tonight?” Y/n asked Oscar, the boy sitting on the couch as he furiously tapped away at his phone.
He threw a quick glance her way, nodding in a disregarded manner, “Yeah,”
Her response was hesitant. She knew he wasn’t listening to her, he hadn’t been for a considerable amount of time.
“Oscar,” She smiled, her voice slightly pleading.
With another useless glance, he asked, “Yes?”
“Are you hearing me?” She tried, fake smile struggling to stay put.
He nodded, annoyed, “Yes, I did. We’re still on for tonight at 8 PM. We’ll meet at the movie theater down at the corner. Do you need me to be any more specific?” He snapped, phone being tossed aggressively down onto the coffee table in front of him as his fiery eyes finally met hers.
She physically took a step back, surprised by his shift in demeanor, “No, it’s fine. I’ll see you.”
He didn’t respond as she turned on her heels and made a quick move for the door, mumbling some excuse about needing to go the grocery store.
They both knew she had gone the day before.
She could see her breath leaving her mouth as she walked toward the neon signs. London winters were always her favorite. With beautiful, straight-white snow, she felt a certain type of comfort when she could gaze out any window from anywhere in the city and be met with a picturesque view.
However, for once this season, her view was quite the opposite. As her feet brought her closer to the entrance of the theater, her eyes were able to make out Oscar, the man she was supposed to be meeting and the man she loved, standing next to a random woman she had never seen before.
Her stomach dropped when she heard the way he said her name and the way he laughed at her jokes, something he hadn’t done with Y/n in a long time.
It was as if she was invisible by the way she stood awkwardly beside them, “Hey,” She had to say in order to gain either one of their attention.
The woman was pulled from her ogling state, but Oscar stayed, longingly staring at someone Y/n had never met.
Her brown eyes bore into Y/n’s as she gave a tight-lipped smile, “Are you Y/n?”
Nodding slowly, Y/n’s eyes darted to Oscar’s, wishing for him to acknowledge her, “Yeah. I’m sorry if this is rude, but who are you?”
“This is Lily, Y/n.” Oscar mumbled, finally gracing his best friend with some sort of recognition.
Her mouth fell open in faux realization, “Oh, nice to meet you.”
The girl, Lily as she now knew, nodded before Oscar was ushering the two women in and pulling out their tickets.
“Were you going to tell me someone else was joining us?” Y/n asked a little later when Lily had gone to secure their seats in the old theater and the two best friends had agreed to gather snacks.
As he pulled out his wallet in preparation, almost as if he couldn’t wait to not be alone with her, Oscar shook his head in disbelief, “Didn’t know I needed to. Was this just supposed to be us?”
“It always has been.” She shot back, a little too pointededly to go unnoticed by Oscar.
His eyes whipped around to meet hers, “So? We never made a pact or anything that it always had to be. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, but apparently it is.” His annoyance only grew seemingly, making Y/n feel like she was never really wanted in the first place.
Nodding slowly, she pushed the disappointment down, “No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I get it.”
The words practically died in her throat as she didn’t want to know the answer, but she forced them out anyway, “Do you like her?”
“Why do you think I brought her?”
And just like that, Y/n’s spirit was killed.
All these little landmines, all these little things that one can read two ways. Like when you take every call outside, seems that I’ve forgotten how to read your face, but I know you too well to get it wrong. If you have to hurt me, hurt me once. If you have to end it, get it done. You have all these choices, I have none. You’re all that I have to lose. Couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to. I’ve decided on you.
“I thought that maybe we could do something soon. Just you and me, you know? I feel like we haven’t gotten to hangout just us lately.” She tried, finally getting up the nerve to bring it all to his attention.
“What do you mean?” He asked, mouth full with the leftovers from last night. A celebratory dinner she had made for him in order to commemorate his sprint race win, but had been squashed as she set the dish out when he called and told her he was going out with Lily instead.
She shrugged, “I just mean that I feel like we haven’t hung out without Lily lately and, as much as I love her,” She forced out, “I- I mean, Osc, I miss yo-”
“Hold on one second. I have to take this.” He rushed out, bringing a hand up as to stop Y/n in the middle of her heartfelt sentence.
“Lily!” He exclaimed as he left the room and went out onto the patio, a certain kind of excitement she hadn’t heard in a long time.
She watched, observed if you will, as his smile widened and his gestures got incredibly theatric. While, a year ago, Y/n would’ve been certain that those traits meant he was overjoyed by the moment taking place, but, now, it was almost as if she didn’t know him. Sure, she could be pretty confident that he was happy with talking to Lily, but there was a specific, deep feeling of uncertainty. A large hole in the middle of her stomach as she looked at the man she had grown to love years ago and felt conflicted. There was adoration and longing, but there was also an overwhelming sense of disappointment and loneliness. Disappointment because she didn’t know who this was, the Oscar who was her best friend and the Oscar she was so scarily in love with just wasn’t fully there anymore. Loneliness because, throughout it all, he had been there for her, but, as she sat on a stool with the empty one staring back at her, Y/n’s mind came to the understanding that this was how it would end.
All those times she would worry about Oscar and her growing apart were in vain as she realized that the way they would lose each other was because he lost interest in her.
The worst part, the most painful piece of the puzzle, was that there was nothing she could do. The day when he woke up and realized he had so many better people in his company than some random girl from his math class in boarding school was approaching.
The bowl of pasta sitting beside her, a symbol of the unrequited love, she hoped the day would come soon.
As hurtful as it was, she couldn’t sit by and watch as her best friend gradually found a replacement, a person who could better give him all the things she couldn’t.
If you keep it going then one by one the memories will start to blur. You’ll ruin the good ones, but I guess my photo album’s none of your concern. Don’t humor me with kindness. There’s nothing kind about a hundred small betrayals. If you love me at all, you’ll kill it now.
Y/n and Oscar had always been in love with each other. Everybody knew it. It was that cliche kind of story. Their moms were best friends, so, in turn, they were. Countless amounts of scrapbooks and photo albums of the two together with their mothers’ handwriting at the bottom saying how they’ll show this photo at their wedding. It was destined from the start, or so everyone thought.
“Your what?” His mother asked the night he had introduced Lily as his girlfriend.
Oscar smiled, slightly confused by the taken aback faces of his parents and siblings, “My girlfriend, mom.”
“Oh,” She resigned, her form falling back in her chair.
His father, Chris, slowly nodded, “Nice to meet you, Lily.”
The two shook hands, an awkward moment as his mother stayed frozen in her chair with the only girl on her mind being the one she had adored from the start, Y/n.
Silence mulled over for a moment before Nicole was getting out of seat and pulling herself together, hugging Lily and giving her son the traditional knowing look, although, this time, it was completely fake.
She didn’t understand what the boy was doing. She didn’t know anything at this point. She was confused and already heartbroken for the y/e/c eyed girl whom she knew was struggling.
“Wasn’t Y/n supposed to come tonight?” It hit her that her son’s best friend was planned to be with them, a seat for her at the table with serving sizes accommodated to fit the number of people coming for their dinner, her included.
Oscar’s face broke out into panic, “Oh my god, Y/n!”
Nicole’s eyes darkened as she watched it dawn on the couple they had forgotten to pick up the poor girl.
“Oscar,” She said sternly, giving him a knowing look and, this time, making sure everybody knew it was real.
Her arms went to her hips as she looked at her son in disappointment, “Do not tell me that you forgot to pick her up.”
His eyes searched for forgiveness, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Really. I-”
She put her hand up, silencing his rambles as she grabbed her keys and made her way to the door, “I’ve got it.”
Pulling up to her house, the woman clocked the way all the lights were out. No porch light or window light on as the house seemed to be eerily empty. Her feet took her up the stairs by 2’s as she hurried to assess the state of the girl, already knowing it couldn’t be good.
Knocking on the door, she heard nothing, so she knocked again. She continued this cycle until the foyer light finally came on and the door was opening, “Oscar, it’s okay. I underst- Mrs. Piastri?”
The woman, finally being faced with the fact that she didn’t quite know what to say, looked at Y/n as if the whole world had shattered around them.
“I’m sorry about him.” She started, thinking they could ease into the topic, but that proved to be the wrong decision as Y/n’s tears started.
Trying desperately to hold them back, keep them at bay somehow, she responded, “It’s okay.”
It was small and quiet, completely defeated, something Nicole felt unraged by knowing this was all at the hands of her own child.
The girl’s head hung low, the tissue in her hand coming up to her face to dab at the tears beginning to fall.
“Oh, honey,” Nicole whispered, rushing to the girl’s aid as she wrapped her up in a hug that brought Y/n back to her childhood when she would get hurt playing with Oscar and Nicole would be there to patch her up everytime.
While this is a bigger wound, Y/n knew Nicole would still stay. She always had and she always would. That was how they worked. Y/n would call her “Mrs. Piastri” like she had just met her and Nicole would be in her back corner, ready to pick her back up again when she failed to do it herself.
Closing the door behind them, Nicole winced at the sight of Y/n’s purse and jean jacket sitting on the bench beside the door, like she had been waiting for Oscar when he was never even going to come.
“I’m happy for him.” Y/n said, tears contradicting the statement in the worst way.
“You don’t have to be.” Nicole whispered, her hands cradling the girl’s head to her chest.
Pulling back, Y/n tried, “But, I am. I’m happy he found somebody. Am I happy that person isn’t me? Of course not!” She laughed dryily, “But, when did we ever really think he would love me back?”
Nicole scoffed, “Your whole lives! Your mom and I knew ever since you two were toddlers and Oscar forced me to buy flowers on Valentine’s Day, so he could properly ask you to be his valentine that he was always going to love you, whether you did or not.”
Y/n left her embrace, arms flailing about as she walked further into the house, “Well, that’s not true though! He doesn’t. Maybe he did before, but, now? No way. I mean, for God’s sake! He literally forgot about me!”
Nicole followed her, “I know, but, Y/n, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
Y/n turned around, a bewildered look on her face, “Are you crazy?! Of course it does! He’s dating someone. He’s happy with someone. Happy without me. I don’t do it for him anymore, so he’s forgotten about it all. I don’t mean the same things to him as I used to.”
Nicole sighed, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, “Y/n, I don’t know what he’s doing, but I do know that he loves you. Always has. The way he feels about you isn’t forgettable. It won’t ever be.”
“Don’t do that.” She said as she plopped down onto the kitchen stool, the look of defeat returning.
Nicole shook her head, “Do what?”
“Indulge it. It’s already hard knowing he loves somebody else. I can’t take the idea that I once had him, that he once loved me, and I was too stupid to see it.” She said quietly.
The mother nodded, “So, is that it for you then? Are you done trying with him?”
Y/n lifted her head, meeting the gaze of her second mother, “Do I really have a choice? He’s already made up his mind.”
Slipping back into the house, Nicole felt disgusted as she heard the sounds of laughter from around the table. As Y/n broke down from being abandoned by the one steady person in her life, her son joked and enjoyed his life as if he wasn’t destroying someone else in expense.
Her movements were heard as the chatter died down and Chris’s voice boomed from the other room, “Honey? Is that you? Y/n with you?”
Her lone presence answered the second question when she waltzed in and no one trailed behind her.
“Was she not there?” Oscar inquired, Lily cozied up beside him.
Nicole couldn’t even look at her son as she quietly said, “No, she was.”
An uncomfortable silence accompanied the table at the insinuation, something that went straight over Lily’s head because of her lack of knowledge when it came to the situation.
“Oh, she just didn’t want to come anymore?” Oscar jabbed, unknowingly testing his mother.
Her gaze darted to her husband, “No, Oscar, she didn’t want to come.”
The use of his first name in such a hostile tone shut him up, giving Lily a confused look as he sat back.
Clearing his throat, Chris tried to mask the uneasiness, “So, what were you saying about that Silverstone?”
His steps took him into the kitchen after he had come home from dropping Lily back off at her house after dinner. He knew his mom was in there, the sound of dishes aggressively clanking around clued him in. She seemed in her own head, so he came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”
She turned around and met him with such a disheartened look that Oscar’s heart dropped, “What are you doing?” She asked, completely distraught.
“I don’t understand,” He gave, his arms folding in front of his chest as he leaned back against the counter.
“You told me 2 months ago you were so in love with Y/n, so why are you with Lily?” Her hands resided on her hips as she tried to put together her son’s sequence of errors.
He groaned, “Mom, I told you not to bring that conversation up. When we talked about that, I was drunk. You know this. None of what I said was true. I wasn’t in the right mind after you had poured me too much wine at that family dinner.”
“None of what you said was true or none of what you said you wanted to be true?” She challenged, disregarding his other arguments.
He rolled his eyes, “I don’t want people thinking I love Y/n.”
“Why?!” She exclaimed, fed up with the way he was toying with her innocence.
He tilted his head, “Why?! Because if it got to her that I loved her, it would ruin the friendship we have. How can you not understand that?”
She let out a breath, “I do understand that, Osc, but you’re pushing her away just the same right now.”
Confusion flicked in his eyes as he mulled over her words for a split second, “No.”
She nodded, “Why do you think she didn’t want to come to dinner? Why do you think she stopped making an effort? Why do you think she’s stopped talking to this family? God, Oscar, why do you think she’s stopped trying to hangout with you and only you, without Lily?”
Her words struck a cord in his chest, an opening that caught him up with all his stupid mistakes, as she continued, “Forgetting to pick her up was the last straw, Osc. I sat with her for almost an hour as she cried about losing her best friend. She can’t do this with you anymore. You’ve torn her apart.”
He sat there, mouth agape, as the reality set in. He had been the worst person to her for too long and she had just taken it without a word. He had thrown her away because someone else had come along and distracted him from the pain of not being loved back only to find out that the distraction had set in motion his worst fear.
Finally, his body returned to the moment and he reached for his keys, muttering an apology to his mother as he ran out the door.
Getting in his car and speeding off, he hoped he hadn’t killed them yet.
If you have to hurt me, hurt me once. If you have to end it, get it done. You have all these choices, I have none. You’re all that I have to lose, couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to. I’ve decided on you. I’ve decided on you. And if I’m disappointed it’s cause you’re not the person I knew. If I had it my way I’d be kinder than you.
For the second time that night, pounding was heard on her front door. Groaning, Y/n looked in the mirror, wiping away at her tears and trying to make herself look presentable before reaching for the door handle.
“Mrs. Piastri, I think I just need to be alon-” She started, but drew blank when Oscar’s face stared back at her.
“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” His eyes pleaded with her to let him in, not literally, but figuratively.
Yet, she wasn’t ready for that as she began to shut the door, however her attempts failed when his foot wedged in the doorway.
“Just hear me out?” He begged, looking into her red eyes.
Sighing quietly, she let him in.
The two traveled to her couch, sitting on opposite sides so formally it could pass as a business agreement.
Transactional, emotionless.
He took a deep breath, buying time to try and figure out a way to explain away his mistakes, “I’ve neglected you and I’ve neglected our friendship. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, how I’ve treated you. I’ve completely forgotten about you and how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know how to make this up to you.”
Her dead stare made him fearful there was no coming back as she said, “Is that all you have to say?”
He nodded, “Yes,”
“Okay,” She got up and walked back to the door, “Then, there’s nothing more to say.”
He cocked his head, “What? No way, Y/n. That can’t just be it.”
“But, it is, Oscar. I can’t keep doing this with you. I won’t keep doing this with you.” She said, hand gripping the door knob as if it would ground her.
He shook his head, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
She groaned as tears began to spill from her eyes and the fighting in her head went on, “I can’t keep loving you and having it backfire in my face.”
His world went quiet at her confession. Years of missed opportunities and mixed signals slapping him in the face as he watched her break down, something that told him this had been waying on her for the longest time.
“I need this to be over. I don’t want to look at you, be with you, anymore. I can’t wait my whole life for you to just wake up one day and say that you love me like I love you. It hurts too much, it’s unnecessary pain that I’m putting myself through for someone who doesn’t even care anymore! I don’t even know why you’re here right now! You’ve forgotten about me, leave it that way. Please, just leave me alone. I’ve put myself out there for so long, put myself in a vulnerable position at such a young age. I never even got a chance to know a life that didn’t revolve around you. I have no one else except for you, my family, your family, and your friends. I was stripped of a typical childhood because I was so obsessed with making you love me and look at where we are! I’ve got no one!”
“I’m not leaving you! That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do!” He got up from the couch, stalking toward her.
She fired back, “That’s the problem! I need you to leave! I need to be able to exist without you! This has been years in the making, Oscar. I need to be independent. I need to be fine with being alone. With you in my life, I can’t do that. If you’re still a factor, I’ll never be able to move on. I have to fall out of love with you, Osc. And if you love me in the way you always have said you do, you’ll understand and you’ll let me go. I thought that you would get caught up in Lily enough to do it without thinking, but you’re here and you’re fighting, and it’s not wanted.”
As he stood in front of her, their tears synced, finding the same rhythm of leaving the eyes and falling down each cheek onto the floor. Oscar couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of him. He knew this was his fault. If he had told her earlier how he felt she wouldn’t have gotten this idea and they wouldn’t be here, loosening the tight grip they had on the other.
His hand reached up to her arm, “But, I love you.”
His words seemed like they physically hurt her as she closed her eyes and shrugged his hand off, “You have a girlfriend, Oscar.”
“But, I love you.” He repeated more assertively.
Her eyes opened and they peered into his soul, “That doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late for that.”
Her small hands pushed him toward the door she had somehow opened during their argument. He tried to fight them, push against them, but his body wouldn’t budge as he stumbled outside. Her arm braced on the door as she said, “Don’t say anything else. It’ll make things worse. Just go back to Lily and forget about us.”
With that, she slammed the door on his face, the sound of the lock turning haunted him. A cold reminder that there was no persuading her.
She was going to fall out of love with him whilst he laid awake in bed at night continuously, traitorously falling in love with the idea of her and what they could’ve been.
I decided on you.
914 notes · View notes
igotanidea · 10 months
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Caught: Jason Todd x fem!reader
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Summary: Jason and fem!reader spending the night at Roy's place and poor Lian walks in on something that a little kid should not see (or even hear....)
Warning: SMUT!! MINORS DNI! (make reasonable choices please!)
@parkjammys, @jasontoddsthickbabe @gone-batty-fics I take the liberty of tagging you, lmk if you want to be removed from the tag list :D
***
Hanging out at Roy’s place was a mix of different emotions for both Jay and Y/N.  Watching their friend fulfilling the role of a father was something they couldn’t wrap their heads around. Who would have thought that this rough, argumentative, former Green Arrow sidekick could be so…. gentle and caring.
At the beginning Jay would tease Roy about it, but soon Lian stole his heart completely. As an effect, it was Y/N who teased Jason about going soft, so he just had to stop his actions, cause it was becoming unbearable.
The fact was nonetheless, that everyone just loved Lian. She was such a nice kid, so how could one possibly not? And those feelings were mutual on little girl’s part, especially with Y/N. Every time the older girl came by, Lian just wanted the full attention, telling Y/N stories, giving her pictures she drew, asking for stories and entertainment. And she got it all and more. It was just so hard to deny that poor soul abandoned by her mother.  Surprisingly, it was Roy who tried his best to make his daughter stick with some basic rules.   Like sleeping time.
“Ok, I think it’s time to get some rest, little one.”
The four of them were currently sitting by the table, playing some board game, Lian taking honorary place at Y/N’s knees, hugged tightly, secured and loved and enjoying it beyond recognition. Her wide smile was speaking for itself. But the wide yawning and eye rubbing was a sign of something else and Roy learned how to read the signals.
“But, daddy…..” Lian whined and pouted “I want to stay….. it’s so nice here with aunt Y/N and uncle Jay…..”
“I know, love, but you know the drill. 9 p.m. is bedtime.”
“I’m not…..” she yawned again and it was just so heartwarming Roy found his will crumbling “tired” her little fists travelled up as she rubbed her eyes in a child-like manner.  “Please…..”
“Hey there, little one.” Y/N smiled down at her and bopped her nose playfully “you gotta listen to your dad. He’s older and ….”
“Sure as hell he’s not smarter” Jason smirked and threw a glance at his best friend.
“Stop undermining my position.” Roy hissed becoming a bit red on the face. “
“Before I was so rudely interrupted…..” Y/N cut their bantering, her attention traveling back to Lian ” I was going to say that he cares for you, pumpkin. It’s all for your good, you know. One day, when you’re older you will understand it.”
“But…..”
“I can tuck you in.” Y/N offered and smiled “how about that?”
‘Can we do that?” Lian eyes grew wide and shimmered a bit, as she turned her head and silently asked Roy for permission with that pleading gaze “please, daddy?”
“I can’t see why not.” Roy shrugged and it made his daughter squeal in happiness. “I don’t think I ever saw her this excited about going to bed, Y/N. I just have to warn you, you’re up for a challenge.”
“I was never one to back down from one. Just look who I ended up in a relationship with” the girl laughed and pointed head towards Jason. “He’s more of a dare than all the little girls I know combined.”
“There are more little girls?” Lian smile dropped as she looked down.
“Of course not, sunshine. You are my priority. Now, let’s get you up….” Y/N wrapped her arms around the girl and stood up carrying her towards the bedroom “say goodnight to the boys.”
“night daddy. Night uncle Jay….” Lian waved her little hand at both of them, earning herself two chuckles and some loving words wishing her sweet dreams before both girls disappeared from the sight.
“She’s good with Lian, you know” the second they were out of earshot Roy turned towards Jay. Now it was time for some men time.
“I know. Y/N just a natural caretaker.”
“Speaking from experience?” Roy reached under the table and grabbed two can of beers, hidden there from Lian. He passed one to Jason who took it with a appreciating nod.
“I’m not exactly the easiest one to deal with.” Jace shrugged “I give her hard time, make her worried, got her walking on the tightrope. And yet, she never left. She’s still with me. The best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You sound so cliché right now.”
“Look who’s talking. The perfect father.”
“Have you ever wondered how we evolved from those violent, angry teenagers? How we ended up here?” Roy trailed taking a sip of his beverage “have you ever wondered if we actually deserve it? Deserve them.”
“constantly.” Jason sighed deeply “maybe that’s the while point. Our girls make us better. Make us want to be better. For them. Cause they see something more to us? I don’t know. But what I do know is that we are fucking lucky, Roy. And I have no intention of pushing that luck.”
“Neither do I.”
“Yeah.”
For a moment they were both just sipping on their drinks without a word. Silence was never awkward between them. Those two men were through so much together that sometimes they could literally read each other’s mind.
“Do you love her?” Harper asked  a couple minutes later.
“Yes.”
“Have you told her?”
“I’m not good with words. But she knows.”
“You sure about that?” Roy teased “girls like words. They like being told that you care. Actions are one thing, but sometimes are not enough. Use your tongue.”
“Oh, trust me, I do” Jason smiled wildly, some dirty memories running though his head. Memories of her underneath him, tasting so sweet, tugging on his hair with surprising strenght “she never complained.”
“Please, spare me the details.” Roy rolled his eyes “all I’m saying is if you really don’t want her to leave, you should take care of her not only in bed. Otherwise someone might steal her away. She’s just a full package – beautiful, smart, caring, sexy.”
“Woah! Hold right there, Harper! Cause if you don’t I might have to beat you up, and as much as I’d hate to do it, I would if you start focusing on my girl’s attributes to much.”
“Just proving my point here.” Roy smirked “you are worried about her going away.”
“I am not!” Jason yelled in objection.
But for real, Roy’s word got him spinning. Worry, jealousy and doubts overwhelming his mind. He had to see his girl. Now.
***
Y/N was sitting by Lian’s bed, finishing the story watching the little girl slowly drifting off, writing in her sleep to find comfortable position. The older girl smiled lightly, care and love written all over her face as she pulled the cover over that little dreaming figure, tucking her in and kissing her forehead gently.
“Good night, angel. Sleep tight.” She whispered
Jason watched her from the slightly opened door and his heart clenched at the sight. God, he loved her. He loved her so freaking much. And even if that subject never came out between Y/n and Jason and Roy did not ask the question at their little conversation, but more often than not Jason was thinking about having a family with his girl. Having all those things adults were supposed to have. House with garden and picket white fence. Huge kitchen were they could prepare meals together. Rooms that would be filled with laughter and happiness. And maybe, maybe¸ a few pairs of little feet on the floor, running towards him, wanting hugs and kisses and love and attention. Maybe.
“Jason…..” he didn’t even notice when Y/n stood up and walked towards him
“I….”
“Sh…” she whispered putting a finger on his mouth and that simple gesture made him melt, but also turned him on “Lian’s asleep. Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He agreed grabbing her hand and pulling her towards their room “you’re mine now….” his eyes darkened, planning all the things he was going to do to her body.
***
“Jason…..” she couldn’t do a single thing when he opened the door to the bedroom, immediately pushing her onto the walls, pressing his entire body onto her. Trapping her, getting her so vulnerable with no way out.
“You’re mine….” He hissed, his mouth attacking her hungrily, hands landing on her waist, gripping it so tight she could almost feel the bruises forming already. “You’re only mine….” He bit on her bottom lip, tugging at it, making her wet and moaning.
“I….oh, fuck” his calloused fingers found a way under her shirt, caressing her skin, goosebumps showing on her body. “Are you jealous of my time with a little girl next door?”
“Yes.” He breathed, his lips travelling to her cheek, jaw, neck, nibbling on her skin, going completely crazy, unable to stop once the fire started. “I am jealous of everyone and everything that got your attention. People, things. I envy the flowers in our flat that got to feel your soft touch when you take care of them. I am jealous of your favorite cup, cause you touch your lips to the brim of it. Fuck, you make me crazy.” He panted, hands moving higher, one brushing over her clothed breasts causing her to arch her back, the thin material of the bra and t-shirt doing nothing to hide her pebbled nipples.
“Stop talking and just do something” he whined, reaching the edge of his jacket trying to pull it off his arms.
“It was pointed to me…..” he nibbled on her collarbone, the other hand reaching towards her hair, pulling them off the knot, making them flow down her shoulders and back, tangling fingers in those silky strands, pulling her head closer “that girls like words. So tell me, baby…..” she whined when he pull the strap of her bra down, pressing open mouth kisses on her shoulders “do you need words?”
“No. No, fuck no. I need action. More of it. More….” She clawed his back.
“Whatever you want, princess” both of his hands landed on her ass, palming it for a moment, lips connecting again, this time rougher, harder, faster. Jason was a tease and a bit of sadist. He wanted her pouty in her hands, he needed to see her fall apart, even before taking her to bed. He wanted her mind blurry, the only thought on her mind being him. But he wasn’t made of steel and feeling her body pressed into him so tightly got him hard to. Got him relenting and he could not have that.
Despite her protests he broke the kiss, slowly peeling the shirt off her, reaching behind her back, unclasping the bra and bending head to lick and suck on her breast and nipples.
“Ah! Jay!” 
“Yes, princess. Tell me how good you feel. Tell me you want more….”
“I want … I want more….”
“I know, baby. I got you.” he grabbed the backs of her thighs, opening her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Feel this?” he brushed his clothed cock over her dripping sensitive pussy “feel how hard you make me?”
“Ah! Please! I need you…..”
“I’ll give you a choice baby. I can take your pants off andhelp you get release” he played with the waist of her leggings “or I can get rid of my shirt and make you feel my skin and delay that sweet high. I know you need both, but you gotta choose.”
“You are terrible.” She panted, desperately trying to move her hips to get the slightest friction but his strong arms held her still “Jason, please, you’re torturing me….” She cried
“Then choose, baby” he whispered into her ear “you can end your suffering just with one word. What. Do. You. Want.” Each word of his were followed by little kitten lick on her skin and she burst the first thing that came into her mind.
“Take off your shirt.” He moaned “just take it off, now!”
“I was hoping you would say it.” He smirked. He wanted to tease her more and her pants gone would destroy the fun he was aiming at. Instead he shrugged his shirt off, letting her hands wonder around his abs and chest, so gently, softly, sending shivers down his spine and making his cock throb.
“Please….” She whined arching back towards him, but he just pushed her back into the door, causing the loud thump to echo through the room and the girl squealed in undeniable pain.
“Oh, fuck. Sorry, baby.” He kissed her to make her forget what just happened “let me take you to bed.” Taking a few step backwards he tossed onto the soft mattress “better?”
“Mmmmm.” She whined “Yes.” She was so desperate now, that playing with luck she reached towards her pants trying to get rid of them herself, giving him access to her most intimate place but Jason was faster.
“Nah, honey.” He shook his head in disapproval “I am in control. Will you behave?”
“Yes, yes, I will, please.”
“Hm, I don’t think that’s very convincing.” He tapped his chin “just gotta make sure.”
“What….?”
“This will do the trick.” He reached under the bed grabbing the rope and binding her hands behind her head, tying it to the headboard.
“Where did you…..” she panted but was immediately cut out by his lips on her breast, stomach and getting lower
“Does it matter?” he smirked against her skin “I know you like it, don’t you?”
“I do. I do, please, please, Jason. I can’t take it anymore. I need you. I need you.”
“ God, the things you do to me.” He groaned sliding her pants of in one fluid motion and licking and sucking where she needed him most. Oh, the inferno he started just by touching her. Oh, all that craving and longing and lust and love. But she needed more as she writhed and squirmed, trapped underneath him.
“It’s not enough.” She complained
“Not enough?” he raised his head and looked at her, with a challenging look “last time I didn’t stretch you with my fingers you were in pain for days. You want that again?”
“Yes. And …. And I need to touch you.” she tugged on the rope, her wrist already red and swollen “Let me touch you, Jason.” her seductive whispering and that soft, perfect body splayed before him, ready to be devoured and worshiped broke all his inhibitions.
“Fuck!” he groaned “I want you.” he finally confessed, releasing her, pulling his pants down and pressing all his body into her. “Tell me you want me too.”
“I want you Jason.”
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Good.” His lips distracted her while at the same time he pushed inside, swallowing all her moans and those sounds coming from her mouth. She was so hot, so sexy, and her nails scratching his back only added to his arousal. “Cause I’m yours and I don’t like to share….” He started pulling in and out causing that familiar heat to build inside her.
“Give it to me, Jason. Give me it all.” She panted, heels digging into his ass, causing him to go deeper, hitting her g-spot with every thrust.
“I love you baby. Let me make you feel good…..”
“Yes!” she cried out, getting so close, so fucking close. “Yes, Jason. Right there! Right there!”
“Uncle Jay? Auntie Y/N?” soft, little voice coming from the door made their eyes grow wide, stopping at once, all that sultry, intimate atmosphere gone within second. “Fuck” being the only though on both of their minds. Y/N terrified gaze landed on Jason, unsure what to do know. Luckily it was so dark, Lian could not really see tangled limbs, naked bodies and sweat all over them. Despite all the awkwardness, Y/N managed to reach for the sheet and with a bit of Jason’s help managed to put it all over her boyfriend’s naked ass, trying to play cool.
“Hi, sweetheart” her voice trembled a bit, barely holding back a whine as Jason pulled off her, leaving her unsatisfied and feeling empty without him inside. His face was so red, he just stayed on his stomach, covered bottom up, unable to roll onto his back and face the little girl. Damn, Roy was going to kill them both, he knew that, so he left the talking to Y/N, considering her better in the field. “Did you have a nightmare, little one?”
“Not really.” Lian hugged her stuffed rabbit closer to her chest “I heard some noises coming from here and I came to see if you were all right, auntie….”
“That is so sweet, Lian. Thank you.” Y/N gasped “but didn’t your father teach you to hide when you hear suspicious sounds? That it might be dangerous to follow them?”
“He did. But never mentioned I should do that when I hear someone I love being in trouble.”
“And…. And who was in trouble in your opinion?” maybe that was wrong question but it just slipped thought he mouth.
“You, auntie.” Lian said innocently “you were screaming like someone was hurting you. But there is no one but you and uncle Jay.” She pursed her lips, her gaze becoming a bit angrier “was he hurting you, auntie? Cause he shouldn’t do that and maybe I should ask daddy to give him the talk?”
“The…. The talk?”
“He does that when he’s angry with me. And when he learns what uncle Jay did he would be angry with him too…. I’ll go get him and ….”
“No! God! Lian!” Jason almost sprung out of bed and if it wasn’t for Y/n he would cause poor girl much more trauma. “I mean…. I don’t think I was hurting aunt Y/N. She would tell me if I was, right?” he looked at her face, his eyes serious, searching for the answer. They had that conversation million times before. If she ever felt any pain during sex, she was obligated to tell him, since Jason could be rough without even realizing it. “Y/N?”
“No. No, you weren’t hurting me….” She whispered, cupping his cheek and brushing it gently, reassuringly, making him calm down.   
“Then what was he doing?” Lian frowned taking a step forward making Jay and Y/n put the cover up a bit.
“He…. He…..” Y/N’s mind went completely blank “you know, sometimes, when someone have a hard week and get tired….”
“Dad always gets tired.”
“Yes, you see, in a situation like this, relax is needed. And Jace, I mean, uncle Jason, was just helping me relax a bit.”
“Hm….” Lian did not look convinced “but daddy never make such sounds….”
“Shit.” Y/N hissed quietly
“Girls just tend to get a bit more tense, Lian.” Jason chimed in, saving his girl from further explanation “they have a lot more duties and worries about boys and need to be taken care off. You’ll get it when you get older.”
“Adults always say that!” she cried out “How old do I have to be? All this waiting is just annoying! And what if I don’t want to get something. Do I even get a choice?”
“I love this kid, but why does she have to be so smart?” Y/n hid her face in Jason’s chest, unable to hide the blushing even in the darkness.
“What’s going on here?” Roy heard Lian’s cry and acting like a concerned parent busted though the door “Oh, fuck!”
“Daddy, you said a bad word.” His daughter pointed out.
“Sorry, love. But trust me, no other word would describe what I feel now. I’m just…. I’m just gonna get you out of here. Now!” he lift her from the ground hugging tightly to his chest, hiding her face what whatever she may see. “And as for you two…. We’ll talk in the morning” he warned, but neither Jay  nor Y/N missed the slightest amusement in his eyes. That bastard was secretly enjoying them being caught in the middle of sex.
“But daddy, I need to know more. Auntie said uncle was just helping her relax and making her feel good.”
“SAY GOODNIGHT LIAN!” Roy screamed, effectively covering the laugh forming in his throat “cause this may be the last time you see them before I kill them both” he muttered towards his friends, leaving the room in a rush and closing the door tightly, but not before warning them to not even think about going at it again.
“Was I making you feel good?” Jason teased once they were alone.
“You were. But now I’m left high and dry….”
“Good thing I don’t care what Roy has to say about us being intimate.” He grinned and rolled over to finish what he started and she was more than willing to submit, just making a mental note to keep her moans and whines on the low.  
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beyondthesefourwalls · 4 months
Text
And I Want To Make Her Mine
Summary: Javy thought it was too good to be true when he saw you, the girl he had crushed on for almost a year, standing in the Hard Deck. But there you were, looking just as beautiful as you always had. He thought maybe he’d finally get his chance with you after all this time. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one whose attention you caught.
Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: Language, somewhat suggestive thoughts. The Blonde One™️.
Word Count: 3.9K 
Notes: Written for @roosterforme's '80s Rocktober challenge using the song Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield. Sorry it’s so late, Em! But hopefully some Javy content makes up for it. 
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Javy stood at the bar, waiting for Penny to bring him the beer that he ordered. He was the first out of his friends to arrive and he figured that there was no point in waiting for them. It had been a long week, and he was ready to unwind for the weekend before doing it all again come Monday. A flash of color caught his eye and he looked over for a moment, only to do a double take and have the wind damn near knocked out of him. He stuttered out your name as shock coursed through his veins. He had to be seeing things, he thought. But then your head turned, and those eyes he remembered so well widened in surprised recognition. 
“Oh my God. Javy?!” 
“Holy shit,” he breathed, shaking his head to try and clear it. His heart sped up in his chest when you wrapped your arms around him in a tight, but way too brief, embrace. “Hi. What-what are you doing here?”  
“I transferred to North Island, I start my new post on Monday morning,” you told him as you pulled away, smiling brightly. “Wait. Are you stationed here?” 
“I am,” he said, his smile matching yours. 
He couldn’t believe his luck that this was happening right now. You had been an administrative assistant at his last duty station, and he had harbored a crush on you for the year that he had been there. You were always friendly with him, matching his flirting at the same level, and the two of you had even grabbed drinks a few times, albeit with other people in attendance. He had never bucked up the courage to ask you out, but had promised himself he would finally bite the bullet as soon as he got back from his last deployment. He had the whole thing planned - dinner and dancing on the pier - only to never be able to actually follow through after orders of a permanent assignment at Top Gun. He had never expected to see you again, yet now you were here, standing right in front of him. 
As Javy quickly scanned your face, he took notice of how you were still just as breathtaking. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you for a moment too long. You were wearing a simple pair of jeans and a tank top, the clothing hugging your curves in all the right places. He could feel his cheeks heating and quickly looked back up to meet your eyes.
"Wow, small world," he said with a chuckle. "It's good to see you again." 
"It's good to see you too," you replied, your smile never faltering. "It's been what, a year?" 
"Too long," he said, feeling a little tongue-tied. He noticed that you didn’t have a drink in your hand just yet and opened his mouth to ask if he could maybe buy you one when a hand clapped roughly onto his shoulder, a familiar head of blonde hair saddling up beside him.  
“Well well well, who do we have here?” 
Javy turned to see Jake grinning mischievously, his green eyes trained on you. He felt his stomach twist nervously, knowing that look in his best friend’s eye all too well. Begrudgingly, he gave a quick introduction. "She was stationed down in Florida with me, but is transferring here. We were just catching up," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to you and him. 
“Nice to meet you," Jake said, flashing you a charming smile. “It’s an absolute sin that you don’t have a drink in your hand, darlin’. You mind if I fix that for you?” 
His eyes widened and panic washed over him when he realized what it was Jake was doing. Either his best friend hadn’t recognized that Javy was about to do the same thing or he simply didn’t care. Either way, he was shooting his shot, and much to his own dismay, you were laughing at the line the blonde had served you. He stared at him with a clenched jaw, missing the way you glanced at him first, a moment of silence passing before you agreed to the proposition. 
Before he even really knew what was happening, Jake was placing a hand on the small of your back and turning to the bar to order you a drink. At the same time, the rest of his friends arrived, and Javy was dragged into a conversation with Phoenix and Rooster about something that had happened earlier that day. He kept trying to wrap up the conversation without being rude, and when the two fellow aviators finally retreated to the pool table, he breathed a sigh of relief. He turned back to where you and Jake had been leaning against the bar completely intending on reasoning his conversation with you and hopefully nudging his best friend out of the way. But when he laid eyes on you, his heart sank. 
You were laughing at something Jake said, your body leaning into his. Your smile was wide and your face happy, and it was so clear that you were enjoying yourself. You brought your hand up to rest against Jake’s bicep as you threw your head back and laughed, and it felt almost like he was being punched in the face. 
Instead of interrupting like he had intended, he threw the rest of his drink back and left the bar. 
___
Javy knew he would only get away with ignoring Jake for so long, and he was proven right first thing Monday morning when he was changing into his uniform after hitting the gym on base before their morning brief. 
“Where’d you disappear to on Friday night?” 
“Didn’t feel good all of a sudden,” he mumbled in response, and really, he wasn’t technically lying. He still felt sick imagining you with him, and he had spent all weekend moping about it. 
“That why you dodged my texts, too?” 
“Yup.”
Jake snorted, clearly amused by the answer, and Javy felt a flare of annoyance course through him. 
“Well you missed a good night. That girl you introduced me to is something else. Did you know she was from Texas?” 
Javy did know that, and he was suddenly incredibly resentful that Jake did, too. It was something that he would have in common with you, and just another reason why he was sure the blonde might be more appealing. From what he remembered, you loved talking about home.
“We were thinking of grabbing dinner this week, you sh-“
Javy slammed his locker shut with more force than intended, the sound of metal clanging echoing in the open room. Jake raised his eyebrows in surprise, but Javy paid him no mind as he finished zipping his flight suit. “Good for you, man. Hope y’all have a great time.” 
He checked the blonde’s shoulder on his way out the door, ignoring the call of his name and the “what the fuck” that followed. 
When he walked into the briefing room a few minutes later, he stopped short of his seat. You were standing at the front of the room flipping through papers with Admiral Simpson. You glanced up once you handed the senior officer what he needed and met his eyes. Your face lit up and you waved happily. Javy wasn’t able to stop the tug at his lips, even if it was tinged with sadness. He raised his hand to wave back - you really did have the best smile. 
Then Jake entered the room behind him, and Javy had to wonder who it was you were directing it to to begin with. 
_______
Javy knew that he was staring. He couldn’t help himself, not when you looked that good. You were sitting at a table in the back of the bar, shamelessly drinking a glass of sparkling wine in a bar that usually only saw beer and whiskey. You wore one of those flowy skirts that fluttered around your calves, a graphic t-shirt tied in a knot above your belly button. Your hair was down and a little wild and your skin seemed to glow under the fluorescent lights. But it was your smile that really drew him in. It was blinding, radiant, and the most beautiful thing he thought he had ever seen. 
But it wasn’t aimed in his direction. 
No. Instead, you were smiling at his best friend. 
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        He wanted to look away, to stop torturing himself like this, but he couldn’t. It had been a few weeks since you had come to California, and Javy hadn’t gotten used to the sight of Jake beside you. Here, in the cafeteria at work, even walking down the hallway a few times. It was a constant reminder that he had missed his shot. 
He knew he had no right to feel this way. After all, he had never made a move on you, never even hinted at his feelings. Jake had been the one to pursue you, and clearly, he had succeeded. Too bad that didn’t stop Javy’s mind from drifting to what could have been. He wondered what it would be like to be the one to make you smile like that, or the one who was allowed to wrap his arm around you and pull you close. He pictured himself leaning in to steal a kiss, to taste the Prosecco on your lips, to feel the warmth of your body against his or whisper something in your ear that made you shiver. 
He was drawn to you in a way that he couldn't explain, and he found himself wanting to stay there, watching. But then you threw your head back and laughed at something he couldn’t hear, and he knew he had to snap out of it. 
He downed the rest of his beer in one gulp and stood from the stool he had been perched on, not even bothering to say anything to the rest of his friends as he walked back to the bar. Maybe it was time to move on, to let go of this hopeless crush he’d been harboring and focus on finding something new. The best way to start that, he rationalized, was getting another drink. 
He put his order in with Penny, smiling kindly when she slid a fresh pint glass across to him. “Thanks, Penny. Put it on my tab?” 
“It’s already paid for,” she told him. 
“What?” 
She nodded behind him as she moved on to the next customer, and the wink she gave him seemed almost like she was in on something that Javy was entirely missing. He turned in the general direction of where she was indiciating, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His eyes met yours almost immediately. You smiled at him brightly as you waved. Despite everything he had just said, that smile aimed in his direction sent his heart racing. 
Javy sighed when you started beckoning him over. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he could handle being so close to you with how his thoughts were currently racing. He was surprised when he took note of Jake no longer being beside you, and a quick glance showed him walking in the direction of the dart board where Rooster and Fanboy were standing. It was the first time the blonde hadn’t been at your side when you were in the same vicinity since you had come into town, and he felt like a terrible friend when it made his decision a little bit easier. At the very least, he could thank you for the drink. 
He tried to keep his face neutral even as his heart rounded in his chest as he made his way over to your table. "Hey,” he said, forcing a smile and trying to sound casual.
“Hey, Javy,” you grinned, and you sounded genuinely happy to be speaking to him. You patted the seat beside him, telling him to sit. He did so after a moment of hesitation, and being so close to you immediately had him reeling.  “Where have you been hiding?”
“Hiding?”
“I’ve barely seen you since I ran into you here! It feels like you’re dodging me,” you laughed as you took a sip of your drink, and Javy felt his face heat. He hadn’t thought he was being obvious in how he was avoiding both you and his best friend as he worked through the emotions he was feeling. 
“Sorry,�� he said. “I’ve just been….busy.”
“Ah.” You didn’t look like you were buying it, and Javy didn’t blame you. It was a weak excuse, and he had to mentally slap himself for not coming up with something better than that. But you didn’t look mad, either. If anything, to his confusion, maybe the look you gave him was even a little amused. 
“Well, I hope you’re not too busy for a round of pool,” you said with a cheeky grin. “I’m itching to beat you.” 
Javy couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your tone. It was one of the things that had always drawn him to you. You were so happy and playful. Still, he glanced over at the dart board before looking back at you. He cleared his throat lightly. “Not darts?” 
“No,” you answered simply. 
“Teams, then?” He pushed. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing it to himself.
You shook your head and he swore you leaned just the slightest bit closer to him. “No teams. Just us. Are you up for the challenge?” 
He took a deep breath and thought it over for just a second. The smart thing would be declining and getting up and walking away to save his own feelings. But you were smiling so sweetly at him and from this close, he could smell your sweet perfume, and your skin looked so soft. He took a somewhat shaky breath and took a sip of the drink in his hand, before he let a smirk cross his face. 
“I don’t know. You might regret asking me to play against you.”
You laughed so prettily, your hair shaking around you when you threw your head back. 
“Is that a threat, Lieutenant Machado?” 
It felt so reminiscent of how the two of you used to talk to each other that Javy couldn’t help but lean into it. He shook his head with a smile. “No, just a warning.”
You laughed again and stood up, grabbing your drink and motioning for him to follow you. You sent him a wink that went right through him. “Well, let’s see if you can handle me.”
The words sent a shiver down his spine. He followed you to the pool table, his eyes locked onto your hips as they swayed in front of him, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have them pressed against him. He shook his head, trying to push those thoughts away and focus on the game at hand. You set your drink on the table and grabbed a cue stick, holding it out for him to take. 
“You break,” you said, your eyes daring him, but for what he wasn’t really sure. Javy took the stick from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a jolt of electricity up his arm and straight to his heart. 
He took a deep breath and stepped up to the table, positioning himself carefully before taking the shot. The balls scattered across the table, and Javy watched as the white ball sank a solid, followed quickly by a stripe. You clapped your hands together, a wide smile on your face. 
“Looks like we have a game on our hands,” you teased, leaning over the table to take your shot. Javy couldn't help but watch the way your body moved as you lined it up, sinking a solid easily in one of the corner pockets.
As the game went on, Javy's focus began to wane. He was too distracted by you, by the way you moved, the sound of your laughter, the warmth of your body when you brushed against him. He found himself wanting to touch you, to feel you closer, to know what it was like. He was getting lost in the way you moved, and how your eyes lit up when you made a particularly good move. 
For a while, he could pretend that he had a shot. 
“Victory!” 
Javy groaned as you yelled out your success once the final ball was sunk. You threw your arms up in triumph, a bright smile on your face as you turned to face him. He couldn’t help but smile at your excitement, even though he had just lost in a somewhat embarrassing fashion. 
“That did not go the way I anticipated.” 
You laughed at his disgruntlement, the sound ringing like music in his ears. “Thanks for playing with me,” you said, “I had fun.”
“Me too,” Javy replied, smiling softly. “Although I think you might have hustled me a little bit.”
You grinned, shaking your head. “I’m just good at pool.”
Javy chuckled. “You’re good at a lot of things.”
You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at him, not saying anything in response. He worried, for a moment, that he had said too much. Silence passed between the two of you. It was like there was something unspoken hanging in the air, something that both of you could sense but neither of you could quite put into words. He swallowed hard, trying to push the feeling aside. He didn't want to ruin the moment, not after how much fun he had just had with you. 
Finally, you took a deep breath, and he swore it sounded a little shaky. You grabbed your drink and took a sip, looking at him over the rim of the cup. “I’m glad we did this.” 
“Me too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 
But like a physical reminder that all good things have to come to an end, he caught a glimpse of Jake watching you from across the bar. There was a strange look in his best friend’s eye, something that looked almost like excitement, but Javy couldn’t quite decipher what it meant. Still, he could feel the weight of it settling in his stomach. 
He cleared his throat, setting his pool cue down to lean against the wall. This time, the smile he sent you was strained. “I should let you get back to Jake.”
To his surprise, a look of confusion crosses over the delicate features on your face. You glance behind you to where the blonde is before looking back at him, your eyebrows furrowed together. “What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach. “I know you two have been…spending time together,” he said, and despite how hard he tried, the words tasted sour in his mouth. 
“I mean, yeah. But…wait.” 
Your pretty eyes widened and you shook your head, your hair shaking as a grin started spreading across your face. Javy felt more confused than he had all night, and for some reason, embarrassment was starting to settle in, too. 
“What?”
“Oh gosh. Javy. Me and Jake?”
“I…yes?” 
You broke out into a surprise bout of laughter, the sound like bells ringing in his ears. Your hand found his arm and you gave it a squeeze before letting it rest against his bare skin below where his shirt sleeve ended. Your hand felt so soft. He wanted you to keep touching him. "Oh, Javy. No. I thought Jake was kidding when he said that’s why you were probably dodging us left and right.” 
The pieces weren’t quite connecting as his mind fought to catch up, having gotten distracted by your touch. He floundered for what you were saying to make sense, but he came up short. “I…am so confused.” 
Your laughter peeled off into quiet giggles before quieting all together, and your face softened into something that looked understanding and hopeful at the same time. You took a step closer to him. His breath caught as his heart started to pound in his chest. 
“Jake and I are just friends, Javy. That’s all.” 
His pulse continued to race as hope set in. He played over every interaction that he had witnessed between the two of you over the last few weeks, realizing that maybe he had been a little blinded by the jealousy he had felt. He knew how Jake flirted and how he acted with women that he was into. Aside from that first night at the Hard Deck when he had introduced you, that intimacy had been absent. Instead, now that he thought about it, it had been a comfortable familiarity, not different from how they interacted with Nat or Halo or Rooster’s girlfriend.
He was starting to feel like an idiot. 
“Really?” 
“We have a lot in common. We talk about home a lot. But…I’m not into him. Someone else had already caught my eye.” 
He swallowed thickly, still not allowing himself to completely believe it. Your fingers still traced light circles on his arm. “Someone else?” 
You giggled softly, and then you raised on your toes and leaned in. There was a moment of hesitation, as if you were both waiting for the other to make a move, before you took it upon yourself to close the distance and your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was featherlight and over before his brain could even register it had happened. You were still smiling at him when you pulled away, your eyes glinting with amusement. You nodded slowly, whispering to him, “Someone else.” 
The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, his hand finding its way to the small of your back as he pressed his lips to yours again. Javy’s hands slipped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as the kiss intensified. It was like a spark had been ignited, and suddenly the kiss was deepening, becoming more passionate.
The rest of the bar seemed to fall away as you both lost yourselves in each other. Neither of you heard the excited yell of “finally” come from over at the dart board, completely caught up in the moment. Javy couldn’t believe that this was happening, that he was here with you, kissing you. Finally, indeed. 
Finally, the need for air became too much and the two of you pulled apart, gasping for breath. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a warmth that made his heart skip a beat. 
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” you admitted, biting your lower lip between perfectly white teeth. Javy’s chest swelled with affection and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more certainty. He felt the warm pressure of your lips on his, and the sensation was intoxicating. 
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said once he pulled back. He had been wanting to do so for weeks, now, and it seemed it was his own fault that he hadn't, yet. 
You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I’d like that.” 
--------------
Main Masterlist
Notes: I love this man so much. Hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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wistfulwatcher · 1 year
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one of the most complex and delicious choices they made with misty is that she genuinely understands what kind of attention is valuable. they crafted this character who is so desperate for love, so hungry for attention and companionship and recognition, a woman who would doom her entire team to a life in the wilds just to hear one more nice thing said about her, and then they put her in a position to grab at fame. when the team is rescued, misty would have been barraged with offers to tell her story. media appearances, interviews, book deals. people would be able to recognize her on the streets, she would have been (at the very least) a local celebrity for the rest of her life. she smiles when she sees the flash of the cameras getting off the plane; she wants to be seen, and the offer is right there in her lap.
instead, she stays silent. she stays out of the limelight, she says as little as possible, just like they all made a pact to do. can you imagine just how difficult it was for her to say no? for her to see that people would be falling over themselves just to talk to her, that she could have used what happened to make connections, make friends, be famous and lauded, sympathized with, talked to, complimented. she could have told the world how SHE was the one who saved them, who got them through the worst moments of their lives when the plane crashed.
and the price for all of that is to admit to some cannibalism? she has no shame about what happened. she eats jerky and wears heart necklaces and remembers the wilderness with open fondness. besides, she knows how to sell herself, how to spin what happened. when she pretends with jessica, she paints the perfect portrait of a victim, the perfectly sympathetic survivor wracked with guilt for what she had to do.
all of that is right there within her grasp. so why doesn't she go public? she displays absolutely zero guilt over breaking the black box, or anything else she did in the wilderness. literally the only reason she never breaks the silence is to protect her team. her friends. to honor whatever pact they made. a pact she makes in '98, when they're still together. when she thinks their lives are all so deeply entangled and their bond is so permanent and unshakeable that it would be easy to choose this family over public attention. it makes sense that she keeps quiet in the beginning.
but the team breaks up, and as far as misty knows they all go their separate ways. still, misty stays quiet. years pass and no one calls her, no one visits. so she goes on unsuccessful dates and works a job where her co-workers seem to barely tolerate her. she gives socks to gross men who still don't call and lives alone and gets a parrot who never talks to her.
she spends her adult life living with her loneliness because the people she loves asked her to, and then forgot she existed.
25 years of this deep sense of loneliness and she never wavers. never tries to tell her story or make a grab for the fame she knows she could still get when she looks at "25th anniversary" splashed over the tabloids. in a world that has grown up around her to create social media and influencers and viral posts. every single day it would have gotten easier for misty to reach out and take even a small slice of the attention she so badly wanted her whole life.
instead, she quietly follows her actual friends. she tracks weddings she's not invited to and the birth of children she'll never meet. she registers to vote for a woman who might not even know she's still alive, and decides that it's enough. that 25-year-old memories of true connection are better than acknowledgement from a million strangers. she collects all of these little details and files them neatly, an umbilical cord of connection that she is the only one supporting. like this information will be important again, relevant again. she sustains herself for twenty-five years off of the mere possibility that maybe, somehow, someday, she will be part of her team again.
and then, like finding the flashing red light of a black box while she's all alone, the universe rewards her.
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foldingfittedsheets · 25 days
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Our friend with the new dog is obviously very emotional right now. She chose a border collie husky mix as her first dog ever and didn’t do any reading. She was just so excited to have a buddy that she didn’t think about some of the harder aspects of dog ownership like acclimating to existing pets or training.
Since my betrothed and I literally just had the puppy blues we definitely understood. When we went over to work with her and see where Harbor the dog was at. She was obviously overwhelmed with all the new aspects of her life. On a walk she’d lunge to and fro at bikes, other dogs, crows. Her ears didn’t even twitch toward her owner at attempts to get her attention.
I suggested we go home and work with her in the backyard. Our friend had been trying to use the dogs kibble as training rewards and I was like. What do you have that’s stinkier because she won’t even take these as a gift let alone a reward.
Turned out our friend did have some treats. In the living room I put Harbor through her paces. She knew all her basic commands and performed them easily in the quiet environment for the promise of a treat. But her name recognition and recall were shaky, along with her leash manners.
So I got us into the backyard and did a demo for my friend on how to teach heeling on the leash. Our friend cried when she watched the flighty unmanageable dog fall into step beautifully beside me, focused on me and the treat I could offer for good behavior.
Then I had us play a recall game where we all had treats and scattered around the yard. Harbor could go wherever she wanted but if we called her name and she looked at us or came over we’d give her a treat.
I told our friend not to do neighborhood walks for the first week, but just to practice heeling in the backyard and name recognition without any big distractions. Then at the end of the week I could come back and do a short neighborhood walk and see how they go. I suggested coming over weekly to help them work together.
Our friend cried again and hesitated. I said, “I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped- if you don’t want that…”
“No! It’s just that I can’t pay you.”
I was flabbergasted that she’d even think of paying us. I reassured her I didn’t need to be paid and that I liked working with her and Harbor for fun. I may not be able to have a dog of my own, and my betrothed has to wear a respirator on visits, but it’s nice working with a dog again in some capacity.
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rollingsins · 7 months
Text
all hers, part xxvi
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue
summary: In the aftermath of everything, back to Woodsboro YN and Tara go.
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: this is a bit of a nothing chapter, apologies in advance. This is also the penultimate chapter, part of why I've been procrastinating so long. but alas, all good things must come to an end ;'))
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The trip back to Woodsboro hospital is smoother than anticipated. 
The morphine does wonders for your pain, but not so much for your coherence. By the time you’re rolled out into the ambulance, you’ve told Tara how pretty she is at least six times and declared Sam ‘best sister-in-law in the world’ at least three. 
Thankfully, Nurse Rosario is nowhere to be found. 
Although Tara had mellowed slightly after your last talk, you’re not keen for a repeat. After she’d plied you with enough morphine to take down a horse, she’d disappeared. Perhaps heeding the warning of Tara’s stormy glare. 
Tara rides in the ambulance with you, her hand pressed in yours. Sam sits beside you (Dewey had re-romandeered the car they’d stolen with a sigh and a forgiving smile). 
By the time you’re rolled into Woodsboro hospital, it’s near noon. Your Dad’s insurance has paid for a private room for him, your Mom and you and so you tilt your neck eagerly as you’re rolled onto the floor, searching each face for the familiarity of your parents. 
“Your parents are here,” Says one of the EMTs, noticing the way your head tilts around madly, “Your Mom is getting a scan done, your Dad is with her. They’re both okay. They’ll be here soon.” 
“Thanks,” You say, though it doesn’t sate your anxiety. That won’t be gone until they’re both here with you.
The floor is awash with busy doctors and nurses. 
Most don’t give you a second look. 
Except for one. 
Nurse Dawson is standing near one of the nurses stations when you’re rolled into your room. 
You see her first, though Tara doesn’t notice her. 
And when Nurse Dawson turns and sees your girlfriend, her face falls. 
Only for a moment. Her face conflicts, but the professionalism wins out. 
She straightens her shoulders. 
And you can tell by the look on her face she’s the one assigned to you. 
Tara smiles at you as the EMTs settle you into your new bed. Oblivious to the carnage she causes. 
It’s like some sort of reverse superpower. 
The ability to somehow irritate every medical professional assigned to her. 
You sigh and lean back into your pillows as the nurse approaches. 
“YN. Ms Carpenter,” She says politely enough, “Nice to see you again.” 
Tara looks over impatient. You can tell by the lack of recognition in her face she doesn’t recognise the nurse. Instead, she looks over to Sam. 
“Sure,” Says Tara, nonplussed, “I’m going to need another bed in here for my sister. She spent last night on a couple of plastic chairs.”
You look around the room. 
There’s two empty beds - presumably for your mother and father. It’s cramped in here, more so than usual with your family reunion. You can tell before the Nurse speaks Tara isn’t going to like her answer. 
“We don’t have beds to spare for visitors, Tara,” Nurse Dawson says pointedly, “Perhaps you and your sister could come back in the morning.” 
Tara stares a moment. 
Then her eyes narrow. 
You tug gently at her hand trying to draw her attention. 
“Babe,” You touch her arm gently, “Maybe it’s not a terrible idea. You and Sam could both go home and get some rest.”
“Absolutely not,” Tara says, voice indignant, “I’m not leaving you alone, baby.”
“Mom and Dad will be here with me,” You assure, but Tara’s turned her glare towards you, “Seriously babe. I’ll be okay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Says Tara, voice final. She shoots a look over to Nurse Dawson, “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.” 
-
Your Mom is wheeled back in first. 
You sit up in your bed so abruptly you almost knock Tara to the floor. 
Your Mom is misty-eyed, gaze a little unfocused, undoubtedly strung out on pain medication. Her eyes well when she sees you, hand twitching as she sits a little taller in her seat. 
“Mom,” You croak, “Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, darling,” She says. The nurse wheels her into the slot beside you and she reaches for your hand, “Are you okay?” 
Sam wanders off to leave you to your reunion, but Tara stays nestled into your side. Your Mom’s leg is gone, and you can’t help the flood of tears that burst through each time your gaze wanders down. 
“It’s alright, YN,” Your Mom assures, “I’m alive. Dad’s alive. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” 
Your Dad follows in, shortly after. 
He’s in a wheelchair, looking so frail with dark circles under his eyes and milky, pale skin. He squeezes your hand and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek.
And then he surveys Tara. 
She’s sitting up now, your hand still pressed firmly in hers. He watches quietly for a moment. You almost think he’s about to ask her to leave when he reaches out, and outstretches his hand. 
Tara blinks in surprise. 
Your eyebrows furrow. 
Your Dad looks serious. The kind of seriousness usually accompanied by a raise in tone or the promise of his shotgun. But there’s none of that now.  
Hesitantly, Tara takes his hand. 
“Thank you,” He says, as she clasps her hand in his. He shakes it firmly, “Thank you for saving my daughter.”
Tara doesn’t say anything. 
You look at your Dad. His voice is earnest, his brows pinched.
He looks open.
Like he’s about to cry. 
“Dad,” You say, voice soft.
He squeezes Tara’s hand once, then lets her go. Slowly, he wheels towards you, eyes misty. 
“You,” He says as he pulls you into a hug, “Are never leaving my side again.” 
He pulls back slightly and thinks. 
“Or hers.” 
-
When the dust settles and your Dad has got the last of his dewey, sappy words out, the room moves back into normality. 
Normality now, it seems, is absurdity. 
Tara and your Dad are watching a ball game together. You survey them, eyebrow raised, sharing a look of bewilderment with Sam as she walks back into the room. 
“Hey,” Says Sam, tray of donuts in hand. Tara and your Dad don’t look up from the TV, “What are we watching?” 
“Giants,” Says Tara. She lounges back into your hospital bed, nestling her head on your shoulder, “Flores is killing it.” 
“About damn time,” Grumbles your Dad, “He spent the last game striking out.” 
“Speaking of striking out,” You say, eyebrow raised at Sam, “Did you speak to Nurse Dawson about a spare bed?” 
Sam shakes her head. 
“It’s fine,” She says, “I’d rather sleep in my own bed anyway. Besides,” 
She eyes your Mom and Dad.
“It seems like a family affair in here anyway. You’re sure you don’t want to come with me, Tara? The nurse seemed pretty insistent that no more beds would fit.” 
“I’m sure.” Tara says, voice flat. She curls a protective arm around your waist. 
You flash Sam a small smile, “It’s fine, Sam. She can sleep with me. She’s little, she fits.” 
Sam purses her lips. 
Tara glares up at you. 
“I am not little.” She says, frowning. 
You press a kiss to her lips. 
“Okay, then big guy, better go home with Sam.” You tease. 
She pouts. Nudges her face into your neck. 
“I fit,” She tells Sam, and then turns her attention back to the ball game. 
Sam makes her departure, shortly thereafter. Your Dad falls asleep midway through the game, your Mom is wheeled off for an MRI at just the moment Tara’s friends make an appearance. 
Liv’s bought flowers, Chad and Mindy follow in with wide eyes. They hug you, settle down into the seats by your bed, careful not to wake your snoring Father. 
“Hey,” Mindy says, “How are you feeling?” 
“She’s okay,” Says Tara, smoothing your hair back, “Now the morphines kicked in, right baby?” 
“Right,” You echo, sitting up slightly. 
Liv smiles. 
“These are for you,” She says, “Tara said they were your favorite.” 
“Thanks Liv,” You say with a smile. 
Mindy settles on the chair to your left, Chad and Liv hover near the end of your bed. 
Mindy leans over to you, a little wide eyed. 
“The Sheriff,” She says, chewing her lip, “Damn it. I should have guessed.” 
“I just don’t understand,” Says Liv, eyebrows pinched, “Why would she kill her own son?” 
Tara shifts, uncomfortably. Mindy rolls her eyes. 
“She didn’t kill her own son, dumbass,” Says Mindy, “Isn’t it obvious?” 
You swallow. 
“There’s no body” Mindy says, leaning forward in her seat, a little excited, “When Ghostface kills, there’s always a body.” 
Liv blinks back at her. 
“What if…” Mindy says, eyes squinted like she’s thinking hard, “What if Wes isn’t dead at all. What if that’s just what he wanted us all to think? What if there’s a third Ghostface, and it’s him?”
Your heart hammers. 
A wave of nausea rises at the theory, but before you can voice your displeasure, Chad beats you too it. 
“Give it up, Nancy Drew,” He says, shaking his head, “You haven’t been right a single time. All those powerpoints for nothing. I think it’s time to pack it in.” 
Mindy pouts, slumping back in her seat.
“I could have been right,” She says, but Chad raises a hand. 
“But you weren’t. Jesus. Leave it alone.” 
He pats your hand, not unkindly, “The important thing is Ghostface is gone and YN and Tara are okay.” 
“Thanks Chad,” You say. 
He leans back in his seat, eyebrows pinched. 
“I just don’t get why she did it at all,” Says Chad, tilting his head in a frown, “Same with Richie. Why? It all seems so pointless.” 
Tara stirs, pressing a comforting kiss to the side of your neck. 
“That’s for the police to figure out,” She says, squeezing your hand, “For now? Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.” 
-
The days pass by in a blur of morphine, and nausea and the blare of Tara and your Dad’s newfound hobby of watching sports games together. 
Tara sleeps at your side, dotes on you like a baby bird who has fallen from the nest. 
Sam stops by in the afternoons, Nurse Dawson avoids the two of you as best she can, coming into your room wordlessly and appraising Tara with a resentful glare everytime she changes your bandages. 
Dewey returns to take your statement, takes Tara and Sam away for hours to question them, but ultimately, the case is clear cut. 
The Sheriff is Ghostface, Richie her accomplice, and by the seventh day of your hospital stay, Dewey informs you the police are closing the case as solved. 
It would be worrying - the police’s utter lack of comprehension - had it not been in your favor. 
So you nod your head and squeeze Tara’s hand as you accept his apology for the Woodsboro police failing you both. 
“We’ll be suing the police department,” Says your Father curtly, before Dewey can make his exit, “For gross negligence and endangering the life of my daughter.” 
You sigh. 
Tara cocks her head, as if she’s about to list off a variety of law firms she’s learned of through her extensive research before you squeeze her shoulder, and pull her back down to you. 
Your Mother huffs before you can say anything. 
“We’re not suing anybody,” Says your Mom firmly. She offers Dewey the smallest of smiles, “Thank you, Deputy Riley.”
“We should be suing the police,” Tara grumbles later, when she’s helping you into the back of Sam’s car. 
You’d be discharged by a happy Nurse Dawson. Your Mom and Dad would stay a little longer in the hospital while you slept over at Tara’s for a few nights. 
Hospitals give you the creeps, and you didn’t want to spend any more time there than necessary. 
Tara slips your seatbelt around your waist and you pull her in for a brief kiss. 
“What’s all that about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?” You say quietly as Sam slips into the drivers seat and Tara falls quiet. 
Your stomach is still a little sore - you feel it now as Tara and Sam help you up the staircase to her bedroom. 
“Watch it Sam, you neanderthal,” Tara snaps as Sam almost steps on your foot as they're half-carrying you to bed. 
You scold her if you had the strength. Instead, you focus all your energy into trying not to focus on the searing pain in your side as Tara slips you into her sheets. 
“Sorry, YN,” Sam says quietly before Tara shoos her out. 
You’re sweating a little, gone is the morphine. Nurse Dawson had put you on something else - something a little less addictive, and a little more prone to letting the pain in. 
You groan as Tara slides into the spot next to you, soothing your pain with the press of her lips. 
“Does it hurt, baby?” She asks, brown eyes mournful, “Do you want me to get you your pills?” 
You shake your head. 
The pain stings, like a dull ache, but it doesn’t hurt so much you need more. You touch her arm, nestle yourself into her side. 
“Just stay with me and I’ll be fine,” You say, as she curls her arm around your waist. She leans down and places a protective kiss to the top of your head. 
“I don’t like seeing you like this,” She admits, softly. You lean up and she presses the softest kiss to your lips, “Do you want me to see if Chad can get you something stronger?” 
“No babe,” You chide, gently, “I’m fine.” 
Tara thinks. 
“Do you want me to go down on you?” She asks, hopeful, “That might make you feel better.” 
You laugh. 
“Might make me feel better, or you feel better?” You ask. 
“Both,” She says with a pout. 
You lean up to her, press another warm kiss to her lips.
“Just stay with me,” You say, “As long as you’re here I’ll be fine.” 
Tara rubs her hand along the stretch of your back. 
“Okay,” She says, voice soft, “I’ll just stay here with you.”
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magicfootballstuff · 7 months
Text
First Day (alessia russo x reader)
Summary: In which Alessia joins Arsenal and you have to learn to navigate the new stage of your relationship at training.
———
“I can’t wait for you to meet everyone,” you gush, as Alessia signals and turns her Mercedes into the drive that leads to the Arsenal training centre at London Colney. “Not just the girls, but the staff too.”
“Well, I did meet some of them already,” Alessia points out. “When I first signed. The physios, some of the training staff. Even some of the girls, like I’ve played against most of them before.”
“Yeah, but now you get to play with them.”
Alessia pulls up to the barrier that blocks entry into the training ground and waits as the porter emerges from his cabin and approaches the driver’s side window. As she lowers the window, you lean across the console in the middle of the car and give him a little wave.
“Morning Harry!” you greet him with a cheery wave. “This is Alessia, by the way.”
Harry smiles at you in recognition when he spots you in the passenger seat, then turns his attention to Alessia.
“You must be the girlfriend,” he says. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” says Alessia.
“Have a good day, girls!” he says, as he returns to his cabin to raise the barrier so that Alessia can drive through.
“The girlfriend?” Alessia says, as she drives through the gate and enters the car park. “Seriously? Is it going to be like that all day?”
She’s not actually mad at you, but you can tell she’s possibly a little disheartened that her first interaction with an Arsenal staff member on her first day has gone like that.
“It’s just that I talked about you so much last season,” you try to reassure Alessia. “It’s probably just weird for them to finally put a face to the name.”
She pulls into an empty space under your direction - there aren’t allocated spaces for players but there’s a certain amount of unspoken carpark politics about who can park where - then switches off the engine. You’re practically humming with excitement in the passenger seat and can’t get out of the car quick enough, eager to show Alessia around her new home and introduce her to more of her new colleagues. 
As Alessia gets out of her side of the car, she looks a bit like a kid on the first day of school, eyes wide with a slight fear of the unknown and her teeth chewing at her lower lip.
“Nervous?” you ask, collecting both of your bags out of the back of the car before wandering around to her side.
“A little,” she admits with a nod. “It’s all brand new, isn’t it? But I’m sure I’ll settle in quickly.”
“Lucky you’ve got me to hold your hand,” you grin at her, doing exactly that and taking her hand in yours.
“Yeah, I am,” Alessia replies, her face cracking into a more relaxed smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
She’s so pretty that you forget where you are for a second, trapping her between your body and the side of her car as you lean in for a quick kiss.
A kiss that is interrupted before your lips can even meet by the obnoxious triple toot of a car horn.
“Oi oi!” Beth shouts through the open window of the newly arrived car, which Viv carefully pulls into the parking space next to Alessia’s. “The lovebirds are here already.”
You step back, putting a bit of space between yourself and Alessia as Beth gets out of Viv’s car, closely followed by Laura, who was in the back seat.
“Exactly what this team needs,” the Austrian says sarcastically. “Yet another couple.”
“She’s just kidding,” you reassure Alessia.
“She’s just salty that she’s still single,” Beth teases Laura, draping an arm around Laura’s shoulder and ruffling her hair affectionately. “We’ll find you someone soon, Laur, don’t worry. It’s good to see you again though, Lessi.”
“Yeah, you too,” Alessia agrees with a smile.
You follow Beth, Viv and Laura towards the training building, Alessia walking in step beside you.
When you get inside the building, you find a few more of your teammates, greeting the old ones with hugs and meeting a couple of the other new signings for the first time. Lotte’s there too, and Alessia greets one of her closest friends with a long embrace even though it’s been barely a week since they last saw each other at the end of the World Cup.
You’re almost bursting with pride as Alessia pulls away from Lotte and starts introducing herself to the rest of the team, watching your two worlds collide for the first time. It’s surreal to have Alessia here with you, to know that she’s going to be training and playing alongside you, sharing the same experiences and friends as you.
“Do you want me to give you a little tour?” you ask Alessia, once she’s finished having a bit of playful banter with Steph about the goal she scored in the World Cup semi final.
Alessia grimaces slightly, then says, “Sorry, I sort of promised Lotte she could show me around.”
“Oh,” you say, trying to mask the disappointment that washes over you. “Okay.”
You can’t have done a very good job at hiding your emotions, because Alessia reaches for your hand and reassures you, “It’s nothing against you. I just … if we’re attached at the hip all day then I worry people are just gonna know me as your girlfriend. And don’t get me wrong, I’m so proud of that, but I want them to get to know the real me too.”
“I get it,” you promise her with a nod. You nudge her away in the direction of Lotte, then say, “Go. I’ll see you later when we start training.”
———
You understand Alessia’s reasoning, even if you’re a little disappointed when she keeps her distance during training too.
She’s not ignoring you, far from it in fact, but she stands at the other end of the line to you for the dreaded bleep test, then always seems to end up in different groups for the training drills that follow.
You’re so happy to see her with a smile on her face, joking around with people who have been your teammates for the last couple of years, but the longer training goes on, the greater your urge is to just skip over to her and ask her how she’s getting on.
You manage to resist the temptation - only just - but you’re struck by yet another blow of disappointment when Alessia sits on a different table at lunch, leaving you to sit with Beth, Viv, and a couple of the Scandinavians, watching Alessia and her new friends from afar.
“What’s up?” Viv asks, nudging you out of your trance with her foot under the table.
“Nothing,” you answer quickly, turning your attention back to your lunch.
“Alessia’s making new friends,” Beth answers on your behalf, shooting you a knowing look. “She’s sad that she’s no longer Lessi’s favourite Gooner.”
“That’s not even a little bit true,” you protest. “I’m happy she’s settling in already.”
“But…?” Beth asks, prompting you for more with a raise of her eyebrows.
You let out a sigh, then admit, “But I had this idea in my head that I’d get to show her around and introduce her to everybody. That we’d get to train together and hang out all the time now that we play for the same team.”
You hear Alessia’s laugh from across the room and glance over to watch as she creases up at something that Steph says. 
“I’m glad she’s enjoying her first day, but I thought she’d be enjoying it with me, you know?” you explain.
Viv nods along thoughtfully, then says, “The thing is, if you spend all day at training together, then all evening at home together, you’re gonna get sick of each other pretty quickly.”
Beth nods along and adds, “Yeah, trust us on that one. And we’re both experts on dating a teammate. We know all the tricks to staying sane.”
“Apart from when we were out on the pitch, you’ve been glued to each other’s sides all day,” you point out.
“Yeah, and some days are like that,” Viv reasons with you. 
“Some days she can’t get enough of me,” Beth jokes.
“And other days I want to strangle her by lunchtime,” Viv counters, rolling her eyes at Beth. “The trick is to find the balance. It takes time, but you’ll both figure it out.”
“Yeah, it took us a while,” Beth agrees with a nod. “I’m a bit like you, I thought I wanted to spend all day with Viv when we first got together but I learned that she likes a bit more space.”
“Especially when she wants to make a TikTok,” Viv jokes. “But the main thing is that it’s healthy to want space from each other. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
You feel eyes on you and when you look up, Alessia is looking straight at you. Your eyes meet across the room like you’re seeing each other for the first time and your breath catches in your throat, still not quite used to the sight of Alessia in the new black training kit with the Arsenal badge displayed proudly on her chest. It’s just the two of you for a moment, her blue eyes piercing into your soul from the other side of the room, then her face breaks open into a big smile that you know is because of you and not anything that’s been said by one of the girls on her table, before she turns away.
Your heart does a little flip in your chest and you glance back down at your food, trying to smother the smile that threatens to break across your own face.
Unfortunately for you, Beth and Viv seem to have witnessed the entire interaction. 
“Told you,” Viv says smugly. 
“Yeah, we’re always right,” Beth announces.
Viv pushes her chair back and gets to her feet, collecting her tray as she says, “And that’s my cue to take my own advice before Beth’s head gets so big that it’s taking up all my personal space. I’ll catch you later.”
———
You reflect on their words, feeling a little less weird about keeping your distance from Alessia for the rest of your day. Jonas holds an extended team meeting, first introducing the new signings (and so what if you clap a little more enthusiastically for Lessi than the others?) before he lays out his objectives for the season and starts talking about the Champions League qualifiers. 
And before you know it, it’s the end of Alessia’s first day at Arsenal. She waits for you outside the dressing room once you’ve collected your things, pushing herself off the wall opposite when she sees you leaving the room with Katie.
“Hey, you,” she says, falling into step alongside you as you make your way back out to the car. “Want me to cook dinner tonight?”
Alessia a far better cook than you, probably thanks to those Italian genes and her Nonna’s influence in the kitchen, so you’re never going to turn down her cooking.
“Ooh, yes please.”
“Let’s stop at Tesco on the way home then. I think we need a few bits.”
It’s so cute, so domestic, and you really could get used to this. Living together, working together, doing the weekly food shop together - all little things that you didn’t get the luxury of doing together when she lived in Manchester. You’re never going to take that for granted again.
Remembering the conversation with Beth and Viv over lunch, as you climb back into the passenger seat of Alessia’s Mercedes, you say, “I’m sorry if I was smothering you a bit this morning.”
“Don’t be silly,” Alessia tries to reassure you, as she starts the engine and checks over her shoulder for cars as she reverses out of the space. “I know you were just excited and wanting to help me settle in.”
“Beth and Viv talked some sense into me at lunch,” you tell her. “All about boundaries and personal space.”
“From those two?” Alessia asks, glancing across at you to arch an eyebrow as her mouth curls upwards into a smile. “They were making such hearteyes at each other across the gym earlier.”
“That’s what I said!” you agree excitably. “But they do have a point. As excited as I am to have you on the team with me, I know it’s not reasonable to expect us to spend all our time together. Nor is it healthy.”
“It doesn’t mean we won’t ever spend time together at training,” Alessia reminds you. “Just not all the time. We’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, we will,” you nod.
Alessia follows the trail of cars slowly making their way out of the training facility and winds down her window at the gate.
“See you tomorrow!” she calls out of the window to Harry the porter.
He responds with a cheery wave and replies, “Good first day, Alessia?”
“Yeah, it was great, thanks.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Have a nice evening, girls.”
Alessia pulls through the gate and out onto the main road, then asks you, “You’ll be my partner in training tomorrow though, right?”
You can’t stop the grin from spreading across your cheeks.
“Just try and stop me.”
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lovinbarzal · 8 days
Text
SOFT LAUNCH | MR73
matt rempe x fem! trouba sister! reader
masterlist || fc addison rae || context: reader is a famous tiktoker and friends with dixie! she met matt through jack by going to a hockey game aka trevor trying to set up his gf bsf with his bsf. it did not go well in the sense that the two did not get together cause jack already had a secret gf but she noticed matt during warm ups cause she was standing on the wrong side of the rink for warms ups. she did not tell jacob that she was at the game from an invitation from trevor jack. it was the game that matt dropped bastian. she's friends with some of the older umich boys basically team 100 (her, jacob, and phil are a mini trio cause jacob and phil don't get enought recognition 😓) || i know this has a lot of plot holes but idc because i'm tired and i'll probably go back and make an official timeline if i make this an OFFICIAL au. enjoy :)
feb 22, 2024
yntrouba has posted !
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yntrouba rags🏒
tagged dixiedamelio nyrangers
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iloveyntrouba yess we love a hockey gal!
dixiedamelio omg such a great time ✨
↳ yntrouba kith💋💋
jacobtrouba you're wearing the wrong jersey.
↳ yntrouba wdym my fav player is breadman🤨
↳ jacobtrouba WORST SISTER OF THE YEAR AWARD!!!!!!!!!!
dixieandynlover her and dixie devoured!
mattrempe 👍🏼
nyrangers we loved having you❤️
hateacc1 stupid puck bunny
↳ newyorkrangersfan1007 her brother plays for the rangers🤦🏻‍♀️
brendon.brisson how did the piper pick?
↳ yntrouba pick pepper
alexlaff11 she is an icon. she is the moment.
↳ yntrouba fav all time
lauren.rodolitz MY GIRL CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU!
↳ yntrouba ILY❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
jacob_truscott20 trio reunion???? @/plapointe_22 @/yntrouba
↳ plapointe_22 spitten facts
↳ yntrouba if it fits into my schedule
jackhughes loved meeting you!
↳ yntrouba same!
↳ nhlynvsp OMG MY FAVS INTERACTING!!!
mattrempe has followed you !
march 14th, 2024
yntrouba has posted !
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yntrouba life or smth💐❤️‍🩹
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jacob_truscott20 thomas the dumpy truck
↳ yntrouba not how that works
ynupdates hey girly! who's the guy you're soft launching at the end??????
↳ hughesxnhllover i think it's jack hughes (he's a hockey player)! they've been interacting like crazy lately and she looks like the girl he brought to family skate for the stadium series
↳ hughesbrosfan i dont think so. jack doesn't have a busted lip atm & i think they confirmed who that girl was and it wasn't her...
jacobtrouba text me back rn
↳ yntrouba denied💁🏻‍♀️
↳ jacobtrouba don't make me do it
↳ yntrouba NO! I'M SORRY! PLS DONT SEND KREIDER AFTER ME!
trevorzegras 💆🏻‍♀️💅🏼
↳ yntrouba @/dixiedamelio pls get him out of my comment section :)
plapointe_22 nice guy!
↳ jacobtrouba TELL ME WHO HE IS NOW PHIL! or else.
↳ yntrouba DONT DO IT PHILLY! HE'S JUST KIDDIN!
↳ plapointe_22 AHHHHHHHHHHHH😓😓
mattrempe 👾🤜🏼
↳ yntrouba 🤛🏼👾
↳ yntroubatrain wait a sec....???? what's matt doing here??
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