#as is the battered wedding dress from Ready Or Not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eipkyt61066666 · 4 months

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑹𝒆𝒐 𝑴𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒈𝒆❤︎

Note: I hope you enjoy the fanfic and love our boy Reo. Please don't repost!!!!!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!

A - adoration

Reo loves you soo much. He always looks at his phone waiting for the next text from you and connects every little thing to you.

B - beauty

Every morning you wake up next to him you see his beautiful face. Reo has always been popular with the girls. It makes you appreciate the faces he making only for you and the way every peice of clothing suits his body perfectly.

C - cursing

You will never hear Reo curse with him growing up in a classy, rich family. Though that all changes when you are on your knees for him with your throat spread wide open by his shaft. The little hisses of curse words slipping from his lips while using your throat are only for you to see.

D - dedication

Reo has always been a hard worker. He never put work to the side. The man follows his dreams and tries his best in anything and. The same goes for his treatment of you. You are the thing he is most dedicated to, other then school and football. He dedicates his football plays to you and you are his top motivation to try hard.

E - eyes

Reo loves eye contact. It's intimate to him. The warm smile on your face and the way your eyes batter at him make his heart beat dance. Not only that but the gift of sight that allows him to cherish and look at your body when you are being pleasured from him. The way his marks, be it bites or hickeys paint your skin makes him go crazy.

F - fingers

Reo bought you a promise ring until the day he can give you a wedding one. He loves the way the beautiful gemstone matches your soft skin. But as you might have already guessed from this obsession with you, he likes coating his with your slik and the way they can make your body beg for him until you lose the power in your voice to do soo

G - gentle

Reo will always be gentle with you. You are his muse. A godess he worships every chance he gets. A strong men that opens up his heart only for you and is always considerate of you, like a real gentleman.

H - happiness

Even though Reo had everything he could dream of, he could never buy happiness with all that money from the silver spoon he was born with. You filled in that hollow feeling in his heart and made him yours.

I - idealist

He is an idealist at heart. He dresses you in pretty dresses and jewelry like his doll. It's only right for him to fo this for you. The way you make him feel can only be rewarded with the most expensive treasures on this world.

J - jealousy

Has loving as Reo is, he also has a jealous side that shows everytime you interact with men that are not your family or him. Although he knows it's wrong it still hurts his heart seeing his precious angel with other males.

K - key

You know that only you have the key to his heart. He only let's his guard down around you. Be it kissing your chest and begging for headpats, Reo is obsessed with you and doesn't shy away from acting like this.

L - leading(his position in the relationship)

Reo is a switch. He enjoys shifting you into his desires as much as letting himself get affection from you. Though Reo does tend to be more on the leading side, not being able to hold back at the sight of your figure.

M - money

Obviously money is never a problem for Reo. Your boyfriend has always lived a luxurious life that he is definitely willing to share with you. Be it either taking on expensive dates or buying you clothes to fit your beautiful figure.

N - needs

Reo is definitely needy. He's always trying to find time for you even with his busy schedule. Your boyfriend is super clingy. Always has an arm around you and loves to rub his chin on top of your head.

O - ownership

He owns you and shows it through Always keeping you close and protecting you from other men. Honestly you own him just as much as he does. He's always at your feet even at the numerous amounts of woman ready to date him.

P - pleasure

You always get tops amounts of pleasure from him. Be it through cuddling and the warm feeling in your heart or during love-making. He's always trying to please you. The way his ego rises seeing you panting beneath him......

Q - queen

You are his queen. Someone Reo shall please and serve. He devotes all his love to you and spoils you even if you don't want his money. Loves to worship your body during cuddling and love-making by carefully touching you all over your body and being thankful for your presence.

R - readiness

He doesn't oblige at anything. If you are ready soo is he. One call asking him to come for you and he is at your door at the needed time.

S - seeking

Reo has a cute side to him. Kind of odd for a 185 cm men but you don't mind it, in fact it's the opposite. You love how your boyfriend is hinting at you that he wants attention with his words and actions. Be it walking around the house with only a towel on or purposely asking you about romantic movies insinuating what he wants.

T - taking advantage

Reo isn't the type of guy to get tired of you and leave you sobbing afterwards. He always shows you his caring side and respects you. Can't say the same about the opportunities to get his hands on you.

U - understanding

Like I sead he is ready when you are. If you feel uncomfortable with anything, he will stop and reasure you. Never pushes you to do things you don't want and always there to listen when you need to vent.

V - voice

Reo's voice is very classy. The way he speaks can magnetise you, be it with words or his little whimpers. You love making him squel and the sloppy sounds his miuth makes when you kiss. Reo seriously can't control himself around you and lets his beautiful voice out.

W - writing

He always writes you little good morning texts at dawn. It makes your heart flutter and fill up with even more love for him. Also when his trips take a little longer he will send you the occasional nude out of desperation for your reactions. Seriously he's making you blush and turn around screaming in your bed like a teenager.

X - xoxo

Reo loves giving you kisses and hugs.

He will wrap his arms around you in the presence of other men letting them know tha you are his. He always finds excuses to kiss you. Be it either taking your gum from your mouth or saying you have something on your face just to kiss you.

Y - young

Reo has always been taught to be mature and serious torwards his work, soo he grew up that way. His parents pushed him to be respectful and to take advantage of situations with people but of course your boyfriend still has a childish personality he lets out around you cause he just loves you that much. You love fooling around and having fun together doing couple stuff that making you both happy.

Z - zaging

Reo always changes moods really fast. He is insecure about you leaving him and it keeps your boyfriend up at night. With him on work trips his fear got worse. Knowing that you are such a beautiful woman made Reo worried but then he'd get reminded by the realisation that you arent like that and actually love him very much. Then that anxiety would turn into love.

#bllk smut #bllk reo #reo mikage #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage smut #reo smut #boyfriend #bllk x you #bllk x reader #fluff #bllk fluff #reo fluff #reo mikage fluff #alphabet #bllk x y/n #smut #bllk #smut reo

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

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thinking about scruffyverse!jason and reader getting married and the officiant saying “do you, jason peter todd, take [name] to be your lawfully wedded wife/partner/etc” and jason giving this dopey smile with tears in his eyes and whispering “yeah, pockets. i do.”

"It's not too late to run," Dick teased, not sure if Jason was going to be sick or not.

"Fuck you, Dickhead."

It was a small wedding. A handful of people in attendance- Just slightly more than getting married in a courthouse. And Jason still felt like it was too many people.

Too much.

And not for the first time that day, he was irritated that Alfred and Bruce had insisted that he wear a tie. He hated ties. They felt like tiny nooses.

When you'd slid out of his bed after getting a couple hours of sleep, he'd had to make himself let you go. Not ready to surrender you to other people. Not wanting you out of his sight because somehow this all felt too... final. Like the end of an era he wasn't ready to let go of. The end of a childhood he wasn't sure he ever really got to have.

But when the opening strains of an orchestra version of one of your favorite songs started to play and you appeared in the door way- holding a bouquet of flowers made from pages of books too battered to be saved- with more flowers made from book pages worked into your hair. And wearing a dress that made you look somehow both ethereal and sweet- none of that mattered and the tie wasn't why he couldn't breathe anymore.

His heart thundered in his chest ad he wasn't sure he could remember what he was supposed to say. All he cared about was never having to let you go again. Because of all the people in the world you could have said yes to, you said yes to him.

Not just when you were five and all he had to give you was a ring pop. Not just when you were 15 and he wanted you to cut class to help him find his mom. But now. After everything.

Crime Alley, The Manor, Gotham, the one- he didn't care where the fuck he was. Because you were home. The guiding star that lead him out of the dark and reminded him that Robin or Redhood, he was still Jason Todd.

His lips felt numb. And your hands were like ice in his. He could feel you trembling across from him. Your eyes over bright. And for just a second, he vaguely registered you full name- A middle name he sometimes forgot you even had. And he smiled a little when he had to stop himself from calling you 'Pockets'.

Everything sounded like it was coming from under water.

He hardly noticed the vows coming out of your mouth, too busy trying not to cry. Or pass out.

And it wasn't until he was kissing you, pulling you against his chest, sweeping you up off your feet to applause that anything snapped back into focus.

"I'm your problem now, Jay. It's all legal-"

"And I couldn't think of a better problem to have," he said, leaning down to kiss you again.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #scruffy!verse #ask anwered #minors dni

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ilyuu · 9 months

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right where you left me.

synopsis : it takes years to build up feelings and memories that means the world to you and him, and it all takes one evening for it to break down and leave nothing but time standing still and a relationship that could've been. (or you recall the night you broke up with kazuha, thinking it all over again.)

tags : angst/no comfort, modern!au, childhood friends to lovers to strangers, mentions of getting high, light swearing, ambiguous ending.

wc : 2500+! (2635.)

a/n : and yes this is all based off of taylor swift’s right where you left me from perse!! along with that, please do excuse any grammar and formatting mistakes

for the saudade event by the all amazing and angsty creative @soleillunne! the first half is written by the wielder of cat pics, @https-furina, and the second half from yours truly. ready your tissues because in spite of the beautiful and vivid wording from verse, it hurts (in a good way, of course)! nonetheless, i hope you'd enjoy this as much as i did! <3

also, perse, thank you; i had so much fun writing this! the possibilities were endless for me, and reading your part when trying to get a feel for this story made me roll up in a corner and cry (not actually though, so don't worry about me, hehe),,

There's idle chatter and the faint clinking of cutlery and wine glasses, almost drowned out by the harsh winds and rain that batters the restaurant's dimmed windows.

The lights are soft and subdued yet hold a warmth that hugs every living being inside the building - some sheltering from the rainstorm, others rekindling with their lovers or families. That should be you, rekindling with a lover that was never yours in the first place.

To your left, you hear the gossip of two friends; a couple in their friend group recently broke up, "good riddance," one girl chirps, "she deserves better than him." The conversation promptly shifts to that of one regarding marriage and weddings. What would you have looked like on that fateful day with white veil and a glittering ring on your finger, the thought makes you grimace.

"What a sad sight," an elderly woman whispers to her husband from where they're settling at a table not too far away, she's gazing at you with a sorrowful look, "poor girl."

The words shift a small crack of a smile onto your face - is that truly how you looked to the unknowing bystanders around you? Did they think you'd been stood up on a first date?

If only.

The more you stare at the empty, red crushed velvet chair in front of you, the more the realisation starts to hit even harder than before that he isn't going to magically turn up, dressed ever so handsomely in smart casual attire with his silver hair in its usual messy ponytail.

You hadn't seen his face since that night, how pained he seemed as he watched you smash the empty wine glass adorning your table, his eyes trained on the way it shatters into a million pieces on the white cloth. It was almost a perfect metaphor for your heart at that exact moment.

"You know we're here because we need to talk, right?" His voice is familiar, nostalgic almost as he places his blazer over the back of his chair. He hasn't changed since you were children, sneaking after school to the nearest McDonalds until your curfew, "y/n.."

"Do we have to talk?" You respond quickly with a sharp tongue, your hands shaking as you find anything to do with them, this even includes unfolding and folding the napkin in front of you repeatedly. Conversations are whispered all around you, some followed by short laughter.

Kazuha almost winces at the tone of your voice but he knows it's deserved. You had been friends since you could remember, joined at the hip no matter what happened. Your mothers always commented that you were inseparable, never found without the other close behind - so how did it come to this?

It came to this because you had became attached, craving his presence at all times even as you went to university. You wanted him and nobody else could even remotely compete with the man that Kaedehara Kazuha had grown into somehow from that clumsy toddler you'd wrapped around your chubby fingers all those years ago.

For a while, the rebellious teen thought the exact same about you. He would ponder over the hours the two of you spent together in his dorm room, sharing a joint as you forget the stress of the exam season you'd just barely managed to survive.

He would reflect on the nights he'd carry you on his back, taking you back to your dorm after an exceptionally rough night clubbing with your friend group, who always roped you into unbelievable scenarios.

He had expressed his concerns over your friend group more than once but you had shrugged him off, flashing him that playful smile he couldn't get enough of. "It's fine, Kaz," you reassure him as you apply a layer of mascara to your eyelashes, "we only live once, right?" When you'd responded with that, Kazuha initially thought 'yeah, we do.'

Nights under star scattered skies sharing joints would only last so long, after all Kazuha was at university to study business management, the heir to his father's publishing company. With this future responsibility came the family reputation and the eventual arranged marriage to another rich family - that was a criteria that you had never fit in and pre-emptively, you never would.

"You know it's not my decision, y/n," His voice is almost breaking when he takes the seat in front of you, clammy hands clasped together in front of him on the clothed table. You scowl a little, it had never been his choice, had it? "we should seen this coming."

"We?" You repeat, narrowing your eyes at him, "you - you should have seen this coming."

Kazuha lets out an exasperated sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he listens to the bustle of the restaurant around the pair of you. He starts to consider that a restaurant was not the best location to be having a lover's quarrel.

When he reopens his eyes, they fall to you across the table. Your eyes are glittering like the chandelier that hangs from the ceiling in the centre of the room and he can almost make out the tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, you know that, right?" For some reason, those words hurt your heart more than he most likely intended.

They feel like knives, sharpened daggers that plunge deep into your most fatal organ and tear it apart in ways that Kazuha would never be able to grasp. In that moment, you nearly wish that you could inflict this kind of pain on him so he could feel how your heart ached at that exact time or how the tears stung at your eyes, blurring your vision to the point where you could barely make his figure out.

Even with a singular tear running its uneven path down your cheek, you find the chance to smile, turning your gaze away from him as you let out a soft, pained laugh.

"If that's true, you should have known it would have hurt less for you to have turned me down instead of giving me a chance like you did." Your words bite at Kazuha more than you would ever know.

He hides the way his nails press into his skin, digging into it so hard they leave red, crescent moon marks and almost draw blood. Kazuha chews down on his tongue, the metallic taste of his blood flooding his mouth when he conveniently suddenly finds it hard to swallow, leaving him to succumb to the consequences of his own actions.

His mouth is dry when he opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out, just a simple exhale as he processes the back and forth argument that will continue for the rest of the night, "I've met her already."

"And? Is she nice?" You reply shortly, holding your tongue. There are thoughts running through your mind, hundreds in tens of seconds that you can't even grasp yourself. His family was wasting no time in selling this marriage to the media, gaining that social coverage they crave as socialites.

Kazuha lets out a small hum as if the energy had suddenly shifted back to normal between you.

"She's alright," Kazuha starts and you part your lips to speak, quick witted and sharp but Kazuha holds a hand up, silencing you before he continues, "but she isn't you."

"No, you don't get to get to pull that shit now, Kazuha," you laugh, it's bittersweet and causes Kazuha to visibly wince, "you damn well don't get to say shit like that anymore."

Kazuha's ruby eyes fall to how you are gripping an empty wine glass on the table, one that was supposed to be filled with a dark red liquid by now, its fruity taste becoming bitter on your tongues.

You have every right to be angry with him and Kazuha is drowned in remorse when he catches your knuckles turning white before the stem of the wine glass cracks in your palm, dropping the bowl of the glass onto the white cloth decorating the table as it shatters into sharp, broken shards.

The visual of glass breaking causes you to blink quickly, suddenly back to reality as you realise you're gripping at your phone in your hand with almost the same strength you'd put into the wine glass that night. Your muscles relax, leaning forward on the table as you rest your head in your hands.

It’s time to go.

So? There’s nothing much you can do now, and as much as it leaves such a bittersweet taste on your tongue that you can’t bother to swallow at all, it’s as much as the truth. Not as if some miracle can fly across the sky and everything will end in a happily ever after like in a fairytale. To rely on that, really, is desperation (is it really?) as its finest. Or maybe that’s your feelings talking. Maybe that’s just the lifetime worth of memories you held with him, sweeter and lighter than this entire evening has been, that’s making you want to hold onto that thin, fragile string of hope that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

You feel your chest ache, a familiar feeling lately that you’d rather disappear, fade, or just… vanish. Really. Just anything to make this go away; it’s more of a reminder than anything that makes it twinge whenever you run through that night in your head too many times to count, each small detail almost nothing, a blur, when all you see is the way Kazuha looked at you. Pained? Helpless? A combination of something you couldn’t pin on in the midst of your own heated thoughts?

You wipe the corner of your eyes with each hand, your warm palms something of a comfort. Not the time.

A moonless night bears witness to the two of you lying atop of the roof of your apartment complex, years felt like days, from your school days, with how clear the memory of Kazuha looking over to you with such adoration swirling in his eyes along with the faint stars.

Your shoulders start to tremble.

The embrace of a familiar warmth wrapping around your waist, the blanket slipping onto the floor from the edge of the couch nothing compared to the comfort seeping into your skin.

Muted colors play across the two of you from the movie - it’s nothing but a backdrop anymore as you find yourself a bit more focused on his hand, your fingers wrapped in his, the pad of your thumb lightly caressing the back of his. You feel his breath, a huff, waft over your neck from that.

You try to let go of a sigh. It only comes out as a broken whimper.

His lips shifting against yours, soft, so sweet, as quiet sounds are shared between two of you. His shallow sighs of your name dripping with every nights’ worth of what ifs, every waking days’ worth of thoughts that crossed and blurred a line between friends and something more.

A chance, a hope, a dream - all of it was woven into the few words Kazuha murmured against your lips, over and over, bounding it with you in his hope that it’d make it real.

You know it all meant something to Kazuha.

Every mote of sand of time that fell within the two of you meant something to him, cherished it close and closer to his heart than anything else. You know that much. It was obvious - so obvious, too obvious - in every word he said that carried gravity and care to you, in every act he’s ever done for you for the sake of making you smile. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

He loved you. Kazuha loves you in every sense of the word. It was only that very love that led to this, as much as the two of you shared in it. This is the best for the two of you.

You know that, and he, of all people, especially knows that. It meant something to him, and so he just had to go ahead and say yes, let you into a world that was only for the two of you, and led you on until the edge of the world and into the reality you’re in now.

Do you blame him for that? For all of this? You’re not sure anymore.

Sure, of course, on that night, he knew where… this, the relationship, was going, how it was going to end. Kazuha could’ve prevented this if he hadn’t held your hand on that one day, stared into your eyes long enough for you to see that he felt the same - he instead gave you, this, a chance.

Things might’ve been better if he didn’t.

You click your tongue. Nope. Don’t think about him, or just don’t think in general - your thoughts are bound to come back to him regardless, no matter what you do. There’s no use thinking about this, no use in even giving it a second of your evening like this.

You stood up. The chatter stirs around you, aware or not, fades to the backdrop. It’s not exactly ideal to stay here, especially since you feel as though you’ll start crying at any given moment. You pick up your umbrella leaning against the leg of the chair, still dripping a bit.

In your thoughts, in your dreams, in your what ifs, yes, but this is neither of those things - this is the truth. This is your reality (how many times will you say that to yourself until you finally realize it?), and the reality is, amid soft, crackling candlelight, a gentle coat of companionship, cottony velvet rolling across the cushions, decor ivy slithering on the walls, just that - a rather pretty veil over your eyes to try and cloud the emptiness that sits with you across the table.

He’ll be alright. Of course he’ll be alright. He’s Kazuha.

You hadn’t realized you were already outside. The light jingle of the bell atop of you fades, leaving a lonely echo. The thrum of the rain felt underneath your feet, clearer than it had been inside.

There’s a heaviness in the air you can’t quite place either, or maybe that’s just all you and the feelings you can’t seem to leave behind (not that it’s easy to do so in the first place.)

For some reason, whenever it rains, you’d feel as though you can finally breathe (he’d know that). You try to smile. It’s weak, shy of breaking down, and to the point that even you don’t believe in it, but it’s a smile nonetheless; it makes you feel a bit better.

You bid goodbye to Kazuha, the thought of him.

You bid goodbye to the man you love.

You bid goodbye to the memories you know you’ll visit later whenever anything and everything reminds you of him.

Will he be happy? Will he be alright? You know you’ll find yourself thinking about this some time later, but you try to find comfort, even as thin as it is, in the idea that he’ll think of the same things you’ll be - that’ll he find that pseudo happiness in a past that’ll already be too far to reach into.

You open your umbrella, the panels springing open. The canopy you’re under trickles with rainfall, pelting said umbrella in an almost melodic symphony if you try hard enough to hear it. You take quiet pleasure in that as you walk out and into the tears.

You’ll be alright. He’ll be alright. You both will be alright.

(He doesn’t like the rain that much.)

The rain itself drowns that one out.

#saudade ; milestone #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha angst #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fanfic #genshin angst #genshin fanfic

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edibl3-m0nger · 1 month

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Wedding Bells 🕊️ A Trevor Phillips Fanfic

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔

　ﾟ･｡･ 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤

🤍 🕊️🖇️ any!reader x fluffy!trev

🤍 🕊️🖇️ no major TW (kinda horny lol)

No one thought they would see the day—-After months of seeing each other and spending time together, Trevor had finally done it. He proposed to you. It was a grueling process (Mikey and Franklin usually having to hear long rants about how badly he wanted to commit and he should finally just pop the question), but when the answer came it was no less than a ‘Fuck Yeah!’

Many days had passed of planning and discussing details—finding exactly what theme and colors you both wanted—It was really exciting going to different stores and watching Trevor try on different suits. You both decided on a pink wedding. There would be no fancy reception or anything like that (Trev had made it clear that it was the D train to pound town right after) but there was a nice venue by the beach that you picked.

It was happening, and the days that followed felt surreal as you clung to your fiance—fiance, it was fun to say and you used it as often as you could. Correcting those that didn't get the news, correcting yourself and when the day of the wedding finally turned up, it was like a dream.

You stumbled back in from your no-longer-not-married party at around 12am and found yourself crashed on the couch of your apartment around noon. Dehydrated but excited, you walked and stretched in your early state of wakefulness and opened to door too your bedroom, expecting to see a sleeping Trevor. Once the door finally opened, The bed laid empty with messy sheets.

Confused and starting to panic, you lightly sprinted back to the couch and fumbled for your phone. After finding it, you dialed Trevor. Getting no answer after calling and calling, you finally rang Michael, who picked up. Having no idea what to think, Michael answered.

“Hey, (Y/N), I, uhhh-... I got some bad news…”

His voice sounded more fearful than dooming. You took a deep sigh as frustration fell on you suddenly. It occurred to you what was going on instantly.

“Did you guys do a fucking Hangover?!” Irritation evident in your voice, Michael started defending himself immediately.

“Of course not! We just got fucked up and now we can't find … oh shit, that is a hangover. Fuck! Yeah we did a Hangover…”

Now pinching the bridge of you're nose, you heard Franklin's voice jump on the line. Reassurance washed over you, as you felt like you were about to hear something reasonable. “Look, (y/n) We’re sorry but we're still looking for him. We guarantee he'll be there by the start of the wedding.”

“Oh, God, I can't believe you guys are doing a Hangover to me- Fine! Okay, just make sure he's all in one piece please. Thank you.” With a click, you signed deeply and started getting ready yourself.

Within the span of four hours, guests and family pulled into their seats. It was small but Wade and Ron were there, even in actual formal attire!

You stood at the altar, looking out past the venue entry way as you grew more anxious than angry. A pair of headlights pulled into view and shut off once parked in the lot nearby. Watching closely, you saw a well dressed Michael and Franklin jumped out to retrieve a battered and bruised Trevor from the back.

Out of excitement and shock, you grabbed the arm of the officiant (Elvis, upon Trevor's request) and let go to rush to your soon-to-be-husbands side. “Trev, baby,” You cooed, getting a closer look at his injuries; minor cuts and littered small bruises but you were concerned no less.

“You look beautiful,” Trevor spoke seductively, pulling you closer by the waist to plant a long and deep kiss on you. The two of his friends both beside him, both looked away awkwardly until you both were done.

Taking you by the hand to lead you away and back to the altar, the rest of the wedding carried on with Elvis doing his best funky interpretation of the Officiant Script. During which, Trevor even shed a few tears.

With about as much if not more partying, he kissed you again, this time firmly squeezing your ass while he did it. You held his face and leaned into it, the small crowd writing in cheers and yelps of happiness.

“Now,” Trevor started, lifting you up in both arms. “Time for a little consummation.” He insisted, walking you both down the aisle again.

𝓯𝓲𝓷.

#oneshot #gta v #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips #gta 5 #any!reader

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 7 months

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— flufftober (day 8) —

Warnings: fluff, minor relationship issues, mentions of PTSD, fake blood

Prompt: “Did you plan for this to happen?”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Modern AU

@flufftober || flufftober masterlist

The night out at the Halloween carnival just on the skirts of the city was all his idea. He had proposed the idea when the whole group was together. Everyone had nodded eagerly and Steve had even clapped Bucky on the back for making outing plans by himself.

You, on the other hand, had only agreed to come because everyone else seemed excited to have the group together in on a plan. It was rare for everyone to regroup nowadays after college.

Steve and Natasha were busy planning their winter wonderland wedding, a time of the year that they both adored and had a weirdly high tolerance for. Clint and Laura were having their first baby, having married young and being high school sweethearts. Tony and Pepper were finally engaged after months of Tony proposing and Pepper merely shrugging it off each time—you had found the bet sweet. Sam and Riley were married and getting ready to adopt.

You and Bucky were engaged after a few years of difficult times. His dedication to his country and wanting to enlist made it hard for you two to be together. Never had you held it against him, but it was hard watching him smile through the screen and unable to hold him in the way you wanted to. It put a strain on your relationship and tested both of your emotions.

His last tour, the one just six months ago, was his last in which he had almost lost feeling in his left arm. The unconscious state he was in when you had seen him made you dart out of the hospital room and retch your breakfast. He had come home battered and feeling less of a man than he was to you. He was still adjusting himself into the world after three years of seeing the violence of wars.

His episodes drove him to push you away, claiming he wasn’t as good as a man as you deserved. His panic attacks made him short-tempered and, more often than not, he would find himself taking out his anger on you. Nothing he said was ever against you, but he yelled for you to leave him to rot and that hurt you the most.

Two months ago, after a particularly intense screaming match and a death scare, he had proposed. It was sudden. Without a ring or that long speech, instead asked on a walk in the rain with water streaking the mascara you had so delicately applied when he was hurrying you.

“Will you marry me, Y/N Y/S?” He had asked casually after coming to a abrupt stop beside the small lake. Water cascaded down his face and he wiped his hair back from falling into his eyes.

Sure the proposal was sudden and unexpected, without a ring, but it was Bucky. Your Bucky. You, after the initial shock and obvious denial of hearing that right, had said yes and kissed him. The world around you slowed down, thunder overhead and rain pattering against the sidewalk, but all of it went quiet that day.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and back into reality. His grin was splitting his cheeks apart, dimples displayed on both corners of his mouth. It had been a while since he started smiling again, but it never failed to make your heart stutter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking away when his smile turned blinding. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” His hand pulled you through the crowd and towards where your friends had set up the meeting place.

You tried to ignore the actors dressed up in tattered clothing and blood smeared on there faces. The makeup was nice and maybe you would have been interested in the special effects, but you couldn’t get yourself to look at them properly. You could only bring yourself closer to Bucky, hiding into his back as a zombie made its way through the crowd.

“Babygirl?” Bucky’s voice was now near you and you tilted your head up. His eyes crinkled on the side, a teasing smile appearing on his lips and squeezing your hand with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Fine, I won’t,” you said, voice wavering when you glanced behind him to see a clown making its way towards you two. Bucky covered his laugh with a cough and nudged your nose with his, a breathy chuckle coming into your hearing.

The clown was nearing so you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s middle and caught the clown’s attention. You smiled when Bucky wrapped his arms around your shoulders and then gestured for the clown to come and scare Bucky.

You pulled away when the clown was a mere step away with a wicked glint in his eyes and grin set on his red stained lips. You gazed at Bucky, biting your lip to keep the smile trying to break out away.

“HAHAHAHAHA!” The clown laughed directly into Bucky’s ear and slammed his inflatable hammer down on the ground next his Bucky’s feet.

Bucky startled and you found yourself laughing. His eyes were wide with shock and his arms were twisted in front of his torso, taking a few steps back. He looked between the clown, who was now joining in with your laughter, and you, pouting when he realized he was set up for that jump-scare.

“Did you plan for this to happen?” He asked, watching you nod as the clown left with another victim spotted.

“Serves you right for trying to tease me,” you replied simply with a shrug, squealing when he ran into you with his shoulder hitting your stomach softly. He carried you for two more steps and then brought you down quickly on a haystack, him laying down on you.

Before you could say anything, his lips collided with yours and he kissed you deeply.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your lips and your heart stuttered, just like the first time he said it.

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sylkiddsey · 6 months

Text

Say my name and everything just stops

Small scrap sections from a longer work that will never be finished. It acknowledges the shift from “Casey” to “Matt”

1. Late season 6:

It’s kind of like Matt’s engaged in some sort of really serious game of hide and seek, but one person is not really hiding, and the other is somewhat seeking, but also not really.

His marriage has become this game of avoidance where they just keep passing each other. They pass in the halls of the firehouse. They pass in their own home, from room to room. Even in a confined car, it feels like they’re just passing.

He and Gabby are so off kilter. Everything feels unbalanced and it’s driving him crazy. This isn’t the marriage he envisioned, and he doesn’t know how to go back.

He’s well aware they’ve always had problems. They’ve never been perfect, but he had been able to fix it. Usually, that involved him complying and going along with his very independent wife, but he’d done it.

This time, he can’t comply so they’re stuck in this holding pattern while he waits (and also avoids her) for her to do the compromising.

He can’t go along with her plan to have a child, basically without him. She pretty much implied she was going to get pregnant with or without his help which stung. He can’t give her a baby if it means having to raise their child without his wife. That guilt will kill him, so he refuses.

His refusal didn’t kill her plan. Like always, Gabby Dawson found a way around and wants a baby…wants to endure a risky pregnancy and possibly carry some other guy’s child if he won’t do it.

His own wife won’t budge and he’s not going the extra mile to solve this, so they are just passing by.

When he arrives home to the condo, he freezes in his doorway. He was expecting his wife, probably perched on a stool ready to pick another battle. He’s ready for it, but it’s not Gabby in his kitchen.

Brett’s standing at his island, wearing a faded apron he vaguely remembers was gifted to Gabby as a wedding present, mixing bowl and a big wooden spoon in hand.

Her hair is piled up on her head, chocolate smeared on the corner of her mouth, and he assumes Antonio fucked her over again. She’s probably eating her feelings and drinking wine with her best friend, but that’s not the case.

She looks up from her chocolate concoction, blue eyes widening like a cartoon. “Matt, hi. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

He stops dead in his tracks, but not because Brett has apparently broken into his home. He pauses because she called him Matt which she doesn’t do.

It’s not like he has a problem with it, but pretty much everyone at 51 calls him Casey. It’s just become this thing so when Sylvie Brett says it so casually, in his damn kitchen while his marriage crumbles somewhere else…it strikes him.

He’s not even sure she’s ever called him his name before. She might’ve in the past, but it never registered.

He’s only really Matt to his wife and his sister. Although, his wife does use his last name when she’s pissed (which has been happening often).

She finishes swirling the brown batter in one of the big glass bowls Gabby chose. “I know I shouldn’t have used my emergency key, but I wanted to make Gabby her favorite brownies just to…I don’t know, cheer her up. I should’ve asked first.”

He shakes his head, sets his keys on the hook and adverts his gaze because he’s pretty sure he makes her nervous. Brett can’t see him as anybody other than 51’s Captain which he gets. He just doesn’t want her to think he’s so uptight he’d dress her down for being a great friend.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just passing through anyway,” he explains. “I’ll be out of your hair in like ten minutes.”

“It’s your place,” Brett replies. “If someone should leave it should be me.”

He figures Gabby would rather have her friend here instead of him anyway.

“Seriously, I’m heading out the door anyway. Stay. Finish the brownies.”

She smiles a little, sweeping a loose strand of long blonde hair away from her face. “Thanks, Casey.”

Casey.

Everything shifts right back to normal where he’s just Casey, Brett’s just Brett. He’s in his home. The one he shares with someone who shares practically nothing with him and Brett’s doing what she does best; being good to her people.

It’s one thing he has always appreciated about the paramedic. She’s good. She’s good to her patients. She’s good to 51. She’s extraordinarily good to his wife.

He passes her by, ready to change from his construction job and head to Molly’s. He stops in the doorway, observing a flustered Brett as she tries to perfect the homemade frosting. She tastes it with her finger and groans when it’s not good enough.

He knows from Gabby that she’s still a little heartbroken over Antonio and a bit raw from certain ambo calls, yet she’s here…supporting Gabby with sugar and chocolate.

“Brett.”

She startles again, almost as if she’s afraid he’s changed his mind and is mad she’s here. “Uh, yeah?”

“You’re a good friend. She’s lucky to have you,” he says.

Her blue eyes look a little misty in his kitchen lighting. “She’s lucky to have you too.”

He doesn’t think his own wife believes that, but he’s grateful for the words anyway.

The oven timer dings behind her, and she struggles to pull out batch one of her brownie mission. He contemplates offering to help, but his life is currently burning to the ground, so he doesn’t have time to salvage some brownies.

Some things are better left unsalvageable anyway.

2. Early season 7:

He’s on his third or fourth beer at Molly’s. He knows drinking won’t numb the fact he wasn’t good enough for his wife, but it does help a little.

The stool next to his squeaks obnoxiously loud and he hears a quiet gasp. Pink painted nails clamp on the counter and Brett has nearly fallen off the stool.

He wants to laugh, but she looks partially embarrassed…or maybe more ashamed

“I’m sorry, Casey.”

He raises an eyebrow, dumbfounded. She has nothing to apologize for. The last shift had gone well, and he doesn’t even remember scolding her for anything. Hell, he’s not even sure he talked to her at all at the station.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have blamed you for Gabby leaving,” she mutters, pulling at the edge of her sweater sleeve.

That’s a conversation they had weeks ago. He’s completely forgotten about it. She had been blindsided and upset which he absolutely understood. God knows he felt all that with her, so he really didn’t think too much about her minor lash out

“Brett…”

“I was just hurt I guess,” she admits. “And if I felt hurt…I can’t imagine how hurt you were. It was selfish and dumb.

Sylvie Brett and selfish don’t fit in the same sentence. She’s too kind even to her own detriment.

Still, it feels good to have someone recognize how hurt he is. Yes, they all care and pity him, but no one acknowledges how much Gabby hurt him. It might not have been intentional but her constant rejection about what he wants and needs fucking hurts.

“Brett, it’s fine,” he replies. “I get it. I do and honestly, she was always going to chase bigger things. She was always going to leave, and I was always going to stay.”

It sums up majority of his relationship. Gabby was always leaving in some way. She’d leave to pursue a new career, leaving him to stay and deal with the fallout. She’d leave to adopt a child and again, he stayed and followed. She was always leaving him and somehow, he just kept staying.

Brett frowns, looking into her glass. He watches her stir the blue-ish margarita with a toothpick umbrella. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you stayed.”

For the first time in a long time, her words soothe the crippling ache Gabby left behind. It doesn’t completely fix everything, but it feels good to know that he didn’t make the wrong decision by not following her.

At least according to Brett.

“Yeah?”

She nods, a smile passing over her face. Lately he hasn’t seen Brett very happy so it’s good to see a glimmer of their past.

“Honestly, I just can’t imagine what 51 would be like without you, Matt.”

He’s struck by the fact she’s using his name again. It’s odd because he’s been so used to Casey for so long and every once in a while, Brett calls him Matt.

There’s something interesting about the way she says it. The syllables just roll off her (now blue) tongue differently in a way he’s never heard. It feels like two different voices and sounds absolutely nothing like it does on shift, surrounded by firefighters and in between blaring bells.

Wow, maybe he’s had a little too much to drink tonight.

He nudges her arm lightly, thanking her for her kindness. He’s surprised she’s giving it to him of all people, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

Prior, Brett has always been connected to him through association. She was Gabby’s best friend. She was Gabby’s ambo partner. She was Gabby’s brother’s girlfriend.

She’s never been anything to him, but now with Gabby long gone…he thinks maybe Brett won’t be such a stranger anymore.

“God, do you imagine if you left, and Severide became a captain or something?” She asks through a snort.

He has to admit that’s a funny picture. “You’d all be dead because he was too busy making out with Kidd.”

Brett laughs a little too hard at his pitiful joke. He starts to think she might’ve had a few drinks herself. “Oh you are so right, Casey!”

He’s too caught up in the allure of her contagious laugh to analyze the name shift. He’s heard this laugh way too much from his living room or the common room on shift, but this is the first time he’s really taken by it

Sylvie Brett has a wildly adorable laugh. Who knew?

3. 7x08

He starts to appreciate new things he hasn’t had the chance to while married. For one, he has complete freedom of his own life. Every decision is his. Plus, he has more time to spend with 51 and he surprisingly enjoys fishing with Boden of all people.

However, his newest discovery happens to be drunk Sylvie Brett. Brett’s incredibly charming on any day but mix her with alcohol and she somehow becomes more and more dorky.

He has to say he greatly appreciates drunk Brett because it’s hilarious. She can’t hold her liquor and each sentence come out in mangled fragments, but it’s not annoying. Not at all. He actually quite likes Brett when she drinks.

She’s absolutely drunk after Foster pumped her full of alcohol. He’s had the front row seat to her nose scrunch, big doe eyes and flailing hand which had turned his crappy night around.

He’s not even thinking about Naomi or what it could’ve been if he had pretended to be ready.

He had planned to go home a little early but decided to stick around to observe Brett. She’s very drunk and he’s concerned about how she’s going to get home.

Foster left hours ago. Kidd ditched too, probably to make up and make out with Severide. He expected Cruz would take her back, but he disappeared with Chloe and hasn’t returned. Even Otis has vanished.

He makes conversation with Hermann and waits for someone to get her home safely.

At some point during the night, he loses track of her just as Hermann closes. He took his eyes off to help the older man move a shipment of beer and now, she’s gone.

Shit. He hopes she’s not inebriated enough to think she can drive. Although, he’s not sure a taxi or ride share is better when she’s this out of it.

Men are assholes.

Matt hurries out the door, hoping to catch her before she disappears in some sketchy car.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to look far because Brett’s sitting on the bottom step, chin in hand and phone clutched in the other.

She tilts her head up, grinning. “Hey, Casey.”

“Hi. What are you doing out here?”

She points her turned off phone in his face. “Waiting for a cab. I’m just a teeny tiny bit drunk.”

Yeah, just a teeny tiny bit…

Again, he doesn’t want her getting in a car like this where someone could easily try something.

“I’ll drive you home,” he offers, reaching for her hand. He pulls her up, braces her stumbling with his chest and holds one hand on her arm to keep her grounded.

“No. No. You should be calling cute reporter,” she slurs, eyelids drooping lower and lower. She pokes his chest with one slender finger. “Go and make your move, Casey. Girls don’t like waiting.”

Naomi is not his concern at the moment. She’s just a girl he casually kinda sorta dated and Brett’s…well, she’s Brett. She’s an essential part of 51 and far more important than some possible girlfriend.

“She’ll be there in the morning. I’m concerned you won’t be if I don’t get you home myself,” he explains. “You’re drunk, Brett and I don’t trust some taxi driver so let’s go.”

She sticks her bottom lip out. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Lead the way, Captain.”

He steers her by the shoulders so she can’t fall flat on her face towards his truck. When he gets the door open, Brett needs a boost into the seat.

He watches one of the best paramedics he knows fumble with a seatbelt for five minutes, amused. Eventually he gives in to her frustration and does it for her.

Super talkative drunk Sylvie seems to have left for the night. As he navigates down the streets of Chicago, she’s quiet and pressed against the passenger window.

He pulls up in front of the place she shares with Otis and Cruz ten minutes later. He turns his truck off, unlocks the door for Sylvie to jump (or probably fall) out. She doesn’t make a move though, and when he looks over, she’s sleeping against her seatbelt.

He should’ve seen this coming. She drank a lot so of course the alcohol would knock her out.

“Brett?” He asks.

She snores a little in response and he can’t help but chuckle. He stays in the driver side for a few more minutes, thinking of the best way to get her inside.

While thinking, he observes her drunken sleep. Her hair is a mess, tangled against the window. She has mascara rings all around her eyes and cheeks and she’s even drooling a little.

He admires her unkept look. He’s always liked how she’s fearlessly herself and just doesn’t care if it’s well received or not.

It’s a very admirable quality.

Her neck is gonna hurt like hell if she stays in that position much longer. He climbs out his truck and goes to her side. He eases the door open, managing to keep her from tipping out with a hand against her head.

“Brett,” he says, shaking her shoulder a little. “Brett, come on. Wake up.”

She’s dead asleep, nestling further into the hand keeping her head from lolling. He can’t stand all night like this with her face in his palm.

Fine. He’ll carry her in. He undoes her seatbelt and when it clicks, she startles.

The sudden panic vanishes the second she realizes it’s him. She smiles sleepily. “Matt.”

Matt. Not Casey. All evening he’s been Casey aside from when she full named him earlier. Now that she’s drunk and tired, he’s Matt again.

He wonders if it’s purely accidental or if she consciously chooses when to change it up.

“How’d you get here so fast?” She asks, looking around the sidewalk.

“You fell asleep,” he explains. “Come on. Let me get you to your apartment. Can you walk?”

She nods and stumbles out of her seat. He braces her fall, laughing at how ridiculously uncoordinated she is after some tequila.

“Hey! Are you laughing at me?”

He helps her inside the apartment building, pointing her in the direction of the elevator.

“I’ve never seen you like this. It’s wildly entertaining.”

“Well, at least I didn’t accept a proposal this time,” she yawns, leaning her head into his shoulder as they wait for the right floor.

“What?” He asks.

She shrugs as the doors slide open. “A green card thing. I was drunk…didn’t marry him. Long story.”

Sounds like it. They make it to her door, Brett halfway asleep on him. He fishes her key out of her purse and then let’s them inside.

“Casey, hi?” Cruz greets from the kitchen. His eyebrows raise when he sees Brett. “Oh man, I completely forgot.”

He knows Cruz was too focused on his new girlfriend to look out for her, but still. She’s his room dog or whatever they call each other. He shouldn’t have left her alone.

“She needs to go to bed,” he explains, doing his best to pass her off to Cruz. She doesn’t want to leave his side for whatever drunken reason so they both have to get her into her bed.

Once she’s buried under a thousand blankets, he turns to Cruz. “Make sure she drinks a lot of water tomorrow because that hangover is gonna be brutal.”

Cruz laughs. “Drunk Brett might be fun, but hungover Brett is not.”

He can imagine. She’ll definitely be miserable tomorrow.

When he goes to leave, Cruz stops him. “Thank Casey.”

“Yep.”

It’s not like he was going to leave her anyway. He’s just glad she’s home safe.

4. Post 8x09

That night he and Gabby hadn’t just passed by but went straight through. They fell right into familiarity and slept together. She was his wife. She knew him better than anyone. Well, he’s starting to think there’s someone else who understands him better, but he’s not gonna go there.

The night is good, but just not as good as he remembered. He expected that cosmic pull (or whatever) but if anything, something is pushing him further and further from what he thought was his future.

There was a disconnect and when he left, it felt like closure. Gabby’s so happy in Puerto Rico. He’s genuinely glad she’s doing so well for herself, even without him. Plus, he’s happy too in Chicago with 51. His future is here.

Gabby leaves the voicemail about how she always has an opening for him, and the bitterness resurfaces. It’s a nice gesture, but it proves how things will only ever progress if he makes the life changes. They can have another night together if he goes to Puerto Rico.

He has no plans to do that.

Someone knocks on his door at a quarter to eleven. His best guess is Severide forgot his key and he and Kidd got in a fight.

They fight and make up a little too much.

He hauls himself off the couch and opens the door. He expects Severide in the door with a permanent frown and a string of curses. What he doesn’t expect is Brett in his doorway, mini dress on and perfectly applied make up.

She looks amazing. He’s always thought Brett was a cute girl. It’s a fact, but he’s starting to think she’s more than just cute. She’s shockingly hot.

“Hi,” she greets.

Did he black out and ask her on a date something? She’s clearly dressed for the occasion. God knows he’s thought about making a move, but he has no memory of doing it.

Even if he somehow lost his mind and did plan a date, he wouldn’t choose such a late time.

He must look as confused as he feels because she chuckles.

“Sorry. I know it’s late.” She looks down at her tight red dress and then back at him. “I had a date. I don’t usually wear this kinda stuff.”

So, someone else asked her out? He doesn’t remember hearing about anyone new. To his knowledge, Ryan was the last.

“You look…fancy,” he compliments. Other more expressive words are on the tip of his tongue, but he settles for fancy. It’s probably best he doesn’t tell her she looks hot in that dress.

“Late dinner. Completely disastrous dessert. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about my failed attempts at romance.”

He’s not sure why he’s relieved the date didn’t go well. He’ll analyze that later.

“Why are you here?”

He’s still confused about the events that have led to her stunning appearance at his place.

“I was at dinner, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, Matt,” she says so casually as if that’s not a completely loaded confession.

She can’t stand there in a tight red dress and roll his name off her lips like this and expect nothing. She was thinking about him? She was actively thinking about him when she was with a date?

“You…couldn’t stop thinking about me? “

Her eyes widen and she covers her face. “Oh my god. That came out wrong. I don’t mean…geez, I keep doing this.”

His racing heart slows a little because he misinterpreted her words. He thought this was heading in another direction. He thought he wasn’t crazy thinking something might be happening between them.

She brings her hand back down to her side. “I was worried because I know Gabby left today and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Oh.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Really, Brett.”

She eyes him like she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying. In hindsight, he didn’t sound very convincing.

“I worry no one checks on you,” she continues. “You’re this steady presence at 51 for everyone else and I just couldn’t stomach the thought of you all alone here blaming yourself.”

He leans in his doorway. Now that’s he is closer, he can smell her addictive perfume. It somehow smells like Christmas and fruit.

“Blaming myself?”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “For not feeling like enough. I can’t pretend to know what went down with Gabby, but I do like to think I know you. I know that she unintentionally hurt you by leaving and now she left again.”

“Brett…”

She edges a little closer and his heart rate quickens again. He’s half convinced she can see his neck pulse thumping from where she’s at.

“If I’m crossing a line here, let me know, but I don’t like the thought of you sitting here thinking you somehow failed,” she rambles.

He swallows, breathing in deep because she’s definitely doing something new to him. She’s not touching or anything, just hovering a few inches and God, he wants to kiss her.

Huh, that’s new.

“You didn’t fail and truthfully, I love me some Gabby, but she was wrong to make you feel like you’re…I don’t know, nothing?”

There’s a lingering question behind that confession. She’s not sure she’s reading his feelings right, but she’s nailing it. Somehow, she’s articulated everything he’s felt better than he could.

“You’re not nothing, Matt. If you ask anyone at 51, if you ask me…you’re pretty much everything there is.”

He’s shell shocked which doesn’t happen often. He’s good at reacting. He’s trained to be ready for anything, but he wasn’t ready for this.

For her.

She’s healing parts of him he didn’t even know were broken with her kindness and consideration. She didn’t have to leave a date to ease his pain, but she did.

She knew he’d need to hear it before he even did.

She’s standing in his door in a strapless dress that pushes up her boobs saying things he’s never heard from anyone. He’s not leering at her, of course, but he’s human. He spares a few glances since she’s so close.

He’s also only been Matt tonight. She hasn’t called him Casey once. Somehow, he’s hearing his first name from her more than ever and he quite appreciates the change.

Matt brings his hand to her bare arm, brushing his palm down her skin. “Thank you, Sylvie.”

He knows he should pull his hand away from her soft skin. A normal shoulder squeeze is one thing, but this lingering grip is another. He traces his thumb around a freckle on her forearm.

Her skin erupts in little goose bumps and he figures she’s probably freezing her ass off in that dress. “Do you wanna come in? I can get you a sweatshirt or something.”

She looks at her heels before gently easing out of his grip. When she replies, she looks anywhere other than at him. “No, that’s okay. I better go home before Foster goes on a manhunt for the guy who took me out. I told her I’d be home by now.”

Right. It’s probably best she doesn’t cross the threshold. He’s afraid of what he’ll do with a few beers in his system and her looking like that.

She’s sweet, kind and so empathetic while he’s just a mess.

“Yeah, good call. Foster with a pitchfork and torch is a scary thought,” he comments.

She laughs, wrinkling her nose. “You make a very good point.” She swipes some hair away from her face. “I’ll see you on shift, Casey.”

Casey again. It feels like the shift is definitely intentional. She’s creating distance.

He nods, moving all the way back into his apartment. “On shift.”

She waves and he unapologetically watches her walk down the hall. Once she turns the corner, he shuts the door.

#brettsey #sylkiddsey-prompts #the name shift is so important to me #this was written before It’s Golden so some lines are similar #I’m working on the lovely prompts #i would expect more posts on here instead of full length works #posting here because why not #someone might like these lol

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beansidhebumbling · 7 months

Text

Warning: Toxic Relationship

It takes weeks before Cassian begins to understand why she left. And if that isn't symbolic of their relationship he doesn't know what is.

Nesta knowing better, being better, as he trots behind. Coated in the arrogance of ignorance, always righteous until he's not, always catching the rhythm a beat too late.

He is a goner from their first meeting, leaning against the bedecked wall, grin growing as he watches her rip apart Rhysand's familiar monologue bemoaning the generous Christmas holidays he offers his workers (mostly under pressure from himself and Azriel).

She takes apart his brother's feeble justifications with the precision of a surgeon, irate expression contrasting beautifully with the festive and absolutely horrendous confection of lights and yarn she is wearing.

She is bewitching.

He waits, nursing his drink, quiet for once, eager for a chance to introduce himself.

He is enthralled.

It takes three encounters to get her number and an embarrassingly sincere drunk confession to obtain a date.

Then in pieces, in the compounding fragments of the trust he earns, they become a pair.

Their relationship, his life's great love affair had always been loud. Screaming, fighting, laughing, fucking. Always wild, careless in their abandon, in their feckless behaviour as they jumped off the cliff, intertwined.

So why was Nesta's departure so quiet?

The muted rolling of a suitcase on carpet barely disturbing him from sleep. The ring left to catch morning light on the side table until he'd copped it on his way to work and rolled his eyes. Nesta is in a huff and he is indignant, ready to whinge to Azriel.

It's six months later, on their anniversary, that he sees Nesta's ending wasn't quiet.

He just wasn't listening.

It takes three days for him to realise she isn't coming back.

Convinced she'll return with the bang of a door, with sharp words he'll take and worse ones he'll offer in return. That after some makeup sex the ring will be home on her finger and he'll be thumbing through a wedding magazine before bed.

This misplaced confidence keeps him from calling. To let her cool off. Leads him to saunter to the apartment door Saturday morning only donning grey joggers. Wanting the upper hand, wanting to see Nesta flush so prettily and clench her jaw tightly, seeing right through his feeble tactics.

Gwyn and Emerie, stony faces and empty cardboard boxes in hand, become a live audience to the destruction of his world.

He stands stunned, head reeling as Nesta is removed from their apartment. He finds himself carrying out boxes of her books. All he wants is to take it all back - slam the door in their faces like a child - because she can't just do this. But more importantly he needs to find Nesta. So a willing pack horse he becomes, trying to wheedle information from Gwyn.

His voice shaking, tears gathering, bile rising in his throat.

"Do you know where she is?"

A nod.

"Will you tell me please Gwyn?"

Her red curls shake, a strong refusal.

"I didn't realise she was being serious, I swear."

Gwyn stops in her tracks, head turning sharply to bestow a look that calls him an idiot in five languages.

When his house is emptied of anything that is her, anything he could not save, he returns to the ring still on the sidetable despite him begging Gwyn and Emerie to return it to Nesta.

It is the only time they look upon him with an ounce of pity which only makes it worse. Pity is for those who have lost. He cannot lose Nesta. There is not a universe he can fathom where he does not belong to her.

The ring he cradles in battered hands amidst shattered glass and splintered oak.

His blood an artful, awful, Pollackesque smattering over the mess.

Flimsy furnishings seeming a small casualty when his heart is now a necrotic organ burning in his chest.

The ring he picked,

with a white dress,

a honeymoon in Paris,

the rest of their life, in mind.

A silent killing blow.

One last blazing row the night before.

Cuts landing too deep this time.

The final fragment of a trust he'd once treasured sacredly, spent so terribly,

"Who the fuck could stand you Nesta when I can't?"

It makes his stomach turn with sickening guilt. He would stitch those words into his skin with wire rather than say them to her now.

He'd like to think he's a different man, maybe a better one, but that's up to her.

She's the only deity he wants to weigh his soul.

He'll come up wanting.

But maybe...

Maybe she'd look at him.

Face him.

Let him burn alive in the grey fire of her glare.

He would delight in his damnation to have her look at him once more.

Saturday is a haze. Rhys and Az try to coax him out to no avail. His pain is raw. Anger, frustration, desperation a tumour growing unchecked in his chest. The broken sidetable now possessing a broken vase, two pictures frames and three tumblers to match it.

She isn't answering his calls, vision blurry from tears and drink, the blue light of his phone is the only thing he can focus on in a world that is swimming. Her contact, Nes 🖤, a beacon, a wavering light, keeping him from going under.

She isn't answering his calls and so the voicemails begin.

"I have your ring. Sweetheart I'm not taking that back. It's yours. I'm yours... Nesta please just talk to me. I'm sorry about Wednesday night. Come back and we can talk."

Beep.

"What is this about Nes? We fight rough, always have baby. I'll do anything, say anything, get you anything you want just please Nes don't do this. We can get a fucking dog. I swear. We'll move to a different apartment. We can open a fucking dog hotel if that is what you want just.."

Beep.

"Tell me you're safe. Please. I'm going out of my mind here. I love you. More than anything."

Beep.

"Mor was right, you know you're such a fucking bitch sometimes. I'm trying to apologise when you left without a word. Fuck you sweetheart."

Beep.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That came out wrong, I didn't mean it, just I..I'm beginning to think you're not coming back to me. This isn't goodbye Nes right? Right?"

Beep.

"Just punish me in person, I'll grovel for you Nes, you know that..........It's just a break. It's just a break. That's okay sweetheart you can have it all. Anything you want. Just talk to me first. Talk to me."

Beep.

"I love you. More than anyone else ever has, will or can. Just. If you're going to shred my heart. Do it in person. Do it in person and I'll walk away. Otherwise I'm going to fight you tooth and fucking nail love."

Beep.

The last voicemail a gauntlet thrown by a drunk fool. A sealing of their fate.

She arrives on Sunday. Suitable for it to be a holy day if this is one last visit from his god.

He is relieved to see her.

Drunken promises of walking away temporarily forgotten. She had texted him an hour before to let him know she was on her way. Giving him time to put the house back in order, air out the smell of alcohol, sweat and despair. He's in his nicest jeans, hair tied in a low bun just how she likes. In the bedroom he has candles and rose petals, ready to worship her.

He wants to remind her she loves him, or she at least she did once.

Purple is painted in the hollows under her eyes, a slight tremor in her hand, greasy hair falling limply around her drawn face.

She looks terrible. Still the most stunning person he knows.

This is his doing.

He'd rather Az pummel him in the ring than see her like this. The aching in his chest makes it hard to breathe. He's made a mistake forcing her hand.

She looks around, avoiding his gaze, eyebrows raising slightly at the very absent sidetable. She'd been so happy when they found that at old flea market off Washington St. when they first moved in together.

He should have thought of that before he left it in splinters.

"There was an accident. I fell, you know how clumsy I get Nes. The table never stood a chance."

Her eyes land on him, and now it's him that can't bear to look, hand rubbing on his neck nervously, focusing on his white socks.

The silence is choking him.

"It's okay. It's okay. We'll get one just like it. I'll check Ebay. I'll ask Amren, she prowls around all the good antique shops. I'll make a replica if I have to. Lucien knows an excellent carpenter. I can fix it Nes. I promise."

He can fix it. He can fix this.

He meets her gaze and wants to vomit.

She looking at him with care, tears running down her face, voice barely audible.

"Cassian. We can't be fixed."

He can't think, he can't breathe, the world is on its axis and she's going to leave. The distance between them has vanished, he's on his knees, soft carpet beneath them a luxury he does not deserve, burying his face in the cotton of her tshirt hands wrapped around her waist.

"No. Nes, no. You can't do that. You can't leave. I'm going to convince you to stay. That's why you're here. You want to stay. I love you. I love you. I love you. I can't be without you."

Pulling his hands from her waist she kneels beside him, caressing his face.

"I'm here to end it in person like you asked."

Her voice and his heart break simultaneously.

'I love you too Cassian... I...I can't live like this anymore. I cannot be both your Madonna and your whore. And we know exactly which one your friends think I am."

The words friends is spat out.

'It's either worship or war. So much fighting...a ren't you tired? '

A breath that holds a future.

'I'm so tired Cassian. I need more. I need to be by myself for a while. I need someone you're not Cas."

And on the exhale he sees all his plans dissipate amidst the dust motes that hang in the air.

This is what hell feels like. He's being excommunicated for his sins. She's even doing it in person.

His god, so cruel and alluring.

"I'm leaving now Cas. I'm moving away for a while. A clean break will be good for us. You'll thank me for doing this one day."

She let's out something that an alien might count as a laugh. Nervous and watery, choked and uncertain.

"I'll never thank you for this Nes."

His voice is dark and maybe he knows sin better than he once thought because her flinch in response feels better than he'd like it to.

They are one. No matter what she says. They should hurt as one too.

She leaves.

He's still kneeling hours later her words a painful, unending echo in his mind.

He doesn't go out much now and drinking himself numb in this empty apartment is not who he is anymore.

But on their anniversary he let's himself drown in rum, in albums, in the box of her stuff he managed to keep after Gwyn and Emerie cleared house.

He cries into that stupid fucking Christmas jumper.

He sprays her bottle of perfume, letting the vanilla, blackberry, sage sink into the air, a ghostly embrace. Sitting amidst his shrine to her he allows himself to reflect.

Regret every overlooked sneer and snide comment. He doesn't see any of his friends, his brothers anymore. Nesta doesn't like them.

Rue every time he came home late, missed a date, was too tired to talk. He has a new job now, remote with flexible hours. It pays less but he still has his stocks and the nest egg he built breaking his back working for over a decade.

Rhys was frantic to keep him on. Bullshit talk about how he was spiralling, how she wasn't worth it. Punching that remark from his mouth, in front of the board, forced his termination quite effectively.

He has enough for Nesta to retire in the morning. He has enough to buy that fancy brie she likes, and handpainted books, and enough jewellery to fill a small store. He has enough to stay beside her so she won't have to miss him.

He's even bigger now, all his free time spent in the gym, ignoring how eating so much protein makes him feel. She always liked feeling safe in his arms.

He's read all her books. Found her Goodreads and follows it like his gospel. Has watched every show, every podcast she consumed on their accounts.

He'll share all her likes. He'll never fight her on anything.

Once he earns her forgiveness they can be happy again.

She's coming back to town next month. A flying visit apparently. He's going to change that.

His chance is coming to show her how much better is.

The type of man she needs. The type she'll never leave.

#nessian #cassian #nesta #acotar #acotar fanfic #nesta archeron deserves better #gemwrites

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beckym29114 · 1 year

Text

Wedding

Day 5 of @hinnymicrofic - Anticipation

Harry looked at the battered watch on his wrist for the fifth time in as many minutes. "Ron, can you check to see if the girls are ready?"

"Sure. George, go check on the girls."

"Why don't you do it, Ron?" George asked as he straightened the tie on his dress robes.

"Because I'm the best man, and it's my job to deligate."

"I'll do it," Neville said as he headed for the door.

What's wrong Harry? Are you getting cold feet?" George asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"If your feet are cold, you should put on another pair of socks, " Teddy said as he looked up from his drawing.

"Thanks for the advice, Ted, " Harry said, "but I don't have cold feet. I'm just excited and nervous"

Harry started to pace, but Ron put a hand on his shoulder "Don't worry mate. I'm sure Ginny won't leave you at the altar."

"I hadn't thought she would until you said that," Harry said as he turned toward Ron.

Suddenly the door opened and Neville stepped in "Harry, they're ready for us."

#hinny microfic #may 5 #anticipation #procrastination #micro fic may

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dojimakaichou · 1 year

Text

CLOSED STARTER for @stingslikeabee.

★. ―

In the morning, Melissa came to get him. She was accompanied by a handful of human soldiers. Feeble scraps of mortal life who couldn't stop a bear, let alone protect their queen ― and Daigo hissed between his teeth at all of them. As the beast predicted the day prior, the horses were too spooked to allow him to mount them. Instead, the dragon opted to run. He kept pace with Melissa's mare easily, which only unnerved the pitiful guards more.

At the first sight of the palace, Daigo felt his insides twist. Dragons didn't have the same anxieties as humans. That this was the day of his wedding meant very little to the dragon, who possessed no notion of this event's historic importance ; instead, he rather hated the feeling of being confined in such an artificial home. The fake lighting stung his eyes, and the overwhelming odor of human combined with others like obnoxious perfumes and cooking spices suppressed his sense of smell. He pressed closer to Melissa in the entryway for these reasons, scaled fingers seeking her own.

A servant came forward and hesitantly introduced himself : Sasaki. Though his voice was weak, his will was quite strong. The queen had selected him to be the king's chief aid once he arrived. Unfortunately for the poor man, Daigo would not be moved from Melissa. With the understanding that pressing the creature could spook him, Sasaki backed away, and the decision was made that the bride and groom would be prepared for their ceremony together.

The aids assumed that piecing together Melissa's elaborate, breathtaking gown would take up the bulk of their time . . . but their previous calculations failed to account for the difficulties of dressing a dragon. Daigo was no easy charge, and his bride was ready long before him. After watching the fifth attendant to work with the future ruler nearly get bit for dragging cloth too harshly over the patches of scales on the creature's human figure, Melissa shooed the servants out of the room. Another breach of tradition that made many of them murmur, but she didn't care. Her soft voice soothed the dragon, who was eager to have her near. Daigo nosed into her hair, breathing deeply, while she coaxed the rest of his shirt on. Melissa was respectful of where his body was different, and her gentle fingers were able to finish getting the minimal amount of clothing on him with no further trouble. The battered pair of trousers that he wore down from the mountains were set to the side. Daigo trembled under Melissa's hands. This was all too much stimulation for him ― nonetheless, he would carry on for her.

For the dragon, the rest of the day was a blur. He sat through the ceremony fairly calmly thanks to the presence of the queen at his side. The boring messages about marriage and unity left little impression on the beast. Daigo occupied himself with picking at his outfit instead.

What followed the wedding proper was a large celebration with a grand feast. It was obvious that this was the greatest excuse for glee that Solaris found in years. The dragon also sensed the thick relief that ran under everything. While no one dared to use vocabulary similar to DEFEATED, there was a shared feeling among the guests that the threat of many generations that usually hung over them was GONE. Placed into a human - sized shape that they could familiarize themselves with and gossip about. Daigo was able to ignore the bulk of the chatter ; the intensity of the music, which added to the dense noise filling his sensitive ears, helped to drown it out, anyway. Melissa was pulled away quickly by social obligation, and the dragon busied himself by examining the floral arrangements around the outskirts of the hall. For a time, they calmed him, reminded him of the fragrant strains he grew in the corners of his lair.

Daigo was holding a bloom he plucked when the queen found him again. It appeared that the beast was at his limit. Whispers in her ear informed her across the room that her husband was chasing away nosy aristocrats and innocent well - wishers alike. The cracks in his shape were starting to frighten some of the attendees, as well. Daigo's half - halo of amethyst was sunk into his brow and hair, and his irises were exceptionally bright. He eyed Melissa warily at her approach, unsure if he was about to be reprimanded for the crawling scales now covering his arms. Instead of greeting her verbally, the dragon moved to tuck his flower behind her ear. It was a dark purple, and he liked the color on her.

The way he relaxed at her suggestion that they leave spoke volumes about his level of discomfort. He rumbled appreciatively at her. Daigo clung to the queen as she guided them out. Their disappearing backs prompted the conversation in the hall to shift. THE WEDDING NIGHT. A topic many of the aristocracy clutched their pearls over and that the court discussed with pale faces.

Daigo stepped over the threshold to Melissa's rooms and exhaled loudly. He had never been here before, but he recognized it as her space. The scent of the royal, which he practically ached for, was thick in this place. It was quiet and significantly calmer than any other atmosphere of the day, and Daigo responded well to that.

As soon as the main door closed, the dragon reached up. His clawed hands curled into the front of his shirt. Snarling, Daigo removed it in shreds. He was sick of being stuck in these decorative fabrics ( what he saw as itchy, pathetic excuses for hide ). The dragon let the remains of his top fall to the floor, where he bared his teeth at them. Fingertips combed through his tresses and loosened the few clips and braids there. Everything needed to go. Only the beast's trousers were allowed to remain for now. They were loose enough. Daigo shook out his head, grumbling.

FINALLY. He settled and forcefully huffed out a stream of warm air. Daigo stretched leisurely. Once he was satisfied, he reached for Melissa. Even just brushing his palm against her arm brought a sense of refreshment to the dragon.

"Today . . . made you my wife ??" he asked quietly, drawing up the lessons she gave him in his lair while the official arrangements were being made elsewhere. " ― or do we have to produce an heir first ??" Daigo wrinkled his nose thoughtfully, fingertips going under and lifting Melissa's chin. His visage was still ever so slightly distorted, and the dragon's voice was colored by a curious vibration. "That is next, isn't it ??"

#⤿ ❤. ✕ WORLD ✕ MELISSA & DAIGO #⤿ VERSE. ✕ GEM DRAGON 01 ✕ THERE WILL COME A RULER WHOSE BROW IS LAID IN AMETHYST #stingslikeabee #suggestive tw #⤿ THREAD. ✕ STINGSLIKEABEE ✕ BLOODLINE

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gougerre · 2 years

Text

my ass looks like two large loaves of bread, viewed from above. my ass looks like a

giant mushroom from the forest that got kicked in half by someone. my ass looks

like a couple of water balloons, filled to the absolute limit with skim milk. my ass

looks like a zoo animals ass. my ass looks like ten pounds of shit in a five pound

bag. my ass looks like an extremely antagonizing pinata. my ass looks like one of

those dead animals that gets pulled out of the ocean and is featured on The News

because nobody can identify it. my ass looks like a car crash. my ass looks like a

racist photo shop of a Polish "Babushka" woman. my ass looks like two generous

scoops of raw pancake batter. my ass looks like a gleaming pair of Angel's wings.

my ass looks like an obstacle from a nickelodeon game show. my ass looks

Statuesque. my ass looks like an autopsied corpse. my ass looks like a bowl of

skinned potatos, my ass looks like it was in a car crash. my ass looks like a parade

float from some impoverished nation. my ass looks like nine eleven on steroids. my

ass looks like some hamburger buns that someone was keeping in their pocket and

walking around with. my ass looks like it smokes ten packs of cigarettes a day. my

ass looks like a pair of over-seasoned mozzarella balls. my ass looks like a car

crash that was in a car crash. my ass looks like the victim of a college prank. my

ass looks like the chunk of blue chesse dressing that takes up the entire cup. my

ass looks like the dead sea after the waters recede. my ass looks like an old sock.

my ass looks like an abandoned bee hive. my ass looks like a pile of bleached sea

shell's. my ass looks like an enlarged model of somebodys balls. my ass looks like

the face at the beginning of mario 64. my ass looks like something that matadors

use to piss the bulls off. my ass looks like one of those deep sea creatures that

cannot survive in captivity, my ass looks like a windswept wedding gown, frozen in

time. my ass looks like it has been attacked. my ass looks like a powdered wig that

got run over by a train. my ass looks like a couple of shop rite bags filled with rain

water, my ass looks like ground turkey meat. my ass is Grass, my ass looks like it

was tarred and feathered after getting caught stealing hardtack from the old

general store. my ass looks like a starwars alien. my ass looks like it had a stroke.

my ass looks like an entire cheesecake thats been pecked by birds. my ass looks

like an overfed botfly larva. my ass looks like the ten biblical plagues. my ass looks

like some bullshit. my ass looks like its made out of newspaper. my ass looks like a

Ghoul's ass. my ass looks extremely wet but it is dry to the touch. my ass looks like

a really big tooth. my ass looks like it lost a bet. my ass looks like diapers. my ass

looks like a sofa. my ass looks like it has seen better days. my ass looks like a mob

hit. my ass looks like a brain preserved in formaldehyde. my ass looks like its ready

for the circus. my ass looks like a omelette. my ass looks like it needs a blood

transfusion. my ass looks like a towel that was used to line a bird cage.

#wint

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madaboutmunson · 2 years

Text

White Wedding (Part 1 of 17 of Fire)

"Do you have the cards and money?" your mom yells up the stairs.

"Yeah, honey, they are on t' table for the millionth time." Your Dad Yorkshire accent bellows back, slightly annoyed

"Well then, you don't have them do you?" She looks at her watch, "we're going to be late if you don't stop messing around with your tie knot!"

Your Dad grumbles, probably saying words he shouldn't, and finally comes down the stairs making a big show of picking up the cards and money and putting them in his jacket pocket.

He looks like a magician, overly expressive in his face and movements, especially with his suit tails.

You've been ready and waiting for about an hour. Your outfit had been prepared for weeks now.

It might have been the most fashionable piece of clothing you'd ever owned. It was essentially an opaque version of Madonna's boy toy dress. Where she had lace, you had satin, and of course, yours was not white. It was a light green. It had been one of the gifts for getting your grades back up to standard. Heartbreak can cause all sorts of things to lapse.

For you, it was studies, appearances and being social.

A wedding of someone you can't recall meeting sounded like a perfect event to test the Social waters again. If you wanted to leave earlier, no one would be upset or wonder where you were.

You double-checked your purse for the emergency pre-rolled joints you still had from your ex and a few cigarettes that were neatly hidden in a baggy wrapped in a lavender oil dotted handkerchief. Along with the battered old Zippo, you stole back from him. You'd given it to him as a present a few years ago, for camping, but ultimately it became more useful for other things.

You wondered if there would ever be a day you didn't think about Trent. It was kind of an impossible thing to keep going. He was a college already, and, well, college is a place full of all different types of opportunities, not like here.

You try to shake your head to get him out of your mind and immediately go and check your hair. It hadn't budged an inch because you'd sprayed it with so much hairspray. So it had more chance of snapping off than actually changing its shape.

You grab your keys and follow your parents out. Then, jumping in your canary yellow Toyota starlet, which though not brand new and super fancy, you absolutely adored because it was your tin can of freedom.

Making your own way there and back was a small price for your parents to pay to get you out of the pit of self-pity and heartbreak these last few weeks.

You follow the station wagon to the venue, but with your own choice of music. You felt it was a wedding, so Billy Idol made the most sense. You smiled at your own silliness.

Arriving at the venue, you parked up next to your folks. Thankfully it's not a whole church thing today, just a fancy hotel with a simple ceremony and reception party.

You hang to the sides of the room whilst your parents mingle, grabbing the odd hors d'oeuvre that passes by. The last little spinach puff you ate makes you concerned about things stuck in your teeth, so you find the nearest mirror and check quickly.

The mirror you find is one of those hugely wide-framed affairs. Its shiny gilded, ornate frame matches everything else in this little hallway.

You remember a mirror like this one at the country club. It's one of the few places Trent would actually go. He'd been going there his whole life, so it was his safe space.

After checking there was no greenery between your teeth, you move away only to suddenly become aware you aren't the only person using this mirror.

Your concentration and reminiscing must have blocked it out, but at the other end of the mirror is a man looking very stressed, saying blasphemous things through gritted teeth whilst he tries to wrestle a curl to slick back into his tied back hair, "Jesus, just stay put. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. " He says, trying again, the curl seeming to finally give in and slide in with the rest. He breathes a sigh of relief, and as he exhales, the curl pops out once again. He clenches his fists and eyes like he might explode with rage for a few seconds, letting out a quiet growl and then takes a breath to try again. The curl is defiant and refuses to be restrained with the others. He sighs deeply, "come on, man," he says to his reflection.

"Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but do you need some help with that curl?" you offer. He's clearly something to do with the wedding, a navy tailored suit, the majority of his hair neatly arranged in a low bun, with the telltale signs of a gel and hair spray bullying the majority of other visible hair into place.

He nearly jumps out of his skin. He obviously hadn't noticed you either, "Arrgh...I mean...hi....sorry..yes. Hi", his tone from fearful to awkward and finally landing in confidence. "I am 2 seconds away from either undoing everything or ripping the chunk of hair from my head, so any help would be great," he says with eyebrows knitted together in dispair.

You reach into the back of your dark nest of hair and pluck out one of the many bobby pins which were redundant at this point, as your hair wouldn't move for the Hulk right now.

You hand it to him, "Here you go" you smile kindly, and he takes it from you.

He looks at the pin, back to you, and then back to the pin again.

"Oh, sorry I didn't explain. You pin the hair where you want it to go and then blast it with hair spray in the direction you want it to lie. Once that sets, you might be able to take the pin out if you are worried about it showing," you explain clearly.

He looks at you like he's translating what you just said to respond. Then, he squints and says, "Would you mind helping me do that?" Like he's bracing himself for a negative response.

"Not at all! Could you bend down a little?" You ask as you approach his side. It felt nice to be helping someone out. After all, you'd been in battles with your own hair plenty of times, and what you wouldn't have given for some help.

You gently take the rebel curl, pull it back into his hair, and pin it with the hairpin once in place. He hands you a can of hair spray. You shield his eyes and begin spraying the curl into submission.

Whilst waiting for it to dry to add another layer, he breaks your concentrating silence.

"I don't normally wear my hair this way, hence all the difficulty. I am capable of doing my own hair normally", he says jokingly with a sprinkling of nervousness, maybe a defence if you might see him as incompetent or something.

"Don't worry about it, I'm used to dealing with my own hair daily." You smile kindly at him in the mirror.

He returns your smile and says, "Maybe leave the pin in too, just in case. I promise I'll get it back to you after the ceremony and pictures."

"It's honestly ok. I have like hundreds. I lose them all the time," you say, giving a second spray and ensuring only the minimum of the bobby pin can be seen, "There you go."

You look closely at his face in the mirror, "Say, don't I know you? You seem so familiar, but I can't place you."

He looks at your reflection with surprise and then quickly picks up his things, "No ...I don't think we've ever met...and probably never will again. Just in town for this wedding, you know. Names Bruce...Osbourne", he hurries. Your internal lie detector is at red alert status, but as you aren't sure why they might lie about this, you just let it go.

"Well, good luck today...Bruce," you say as he leaves.

"Thanks, Tink!" He shouts back down the hall that he is busy zig-zagging down. He clearly can't remember the room he came out of.

You let out a small laugh when heading to the main room to find your parents. What a strange guy. Maybe your brain would place him later, or perhaps he just had one of those faces.

Full fanfic list

#eddie the freak munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddiemunson #eddiemunsonxreader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #fanfiction #edward munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunsonfanfiction #romance #love story #eddie munson fluff #madaboutmunson

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year

Text

The Bride In Black 57- 62

Media IRL X Vampires

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Sweet

The Bride In black Series

I smiled widely, as I laid my bed tucked up tightly with the sheets and blankets around me tightly my head on thomas' chest as he sat reading his book I nuzzled close to his soft cotton shirt "you cosy down there darling?" He Cooes stroking my hair "Very cosy" I smiled giving him a kiss where I rested my head "I'm finding all the cosy spots" I giggled "All my cosy spots? For you to snuggle" "I have to find all the little places" "Awww your so sweet." He Cooes "you find all your cosy spots" he smiled kissing my head "Thomas?" "Yes my darling?" He Cooes "When are we going to get married?" "Oh? Well you wanna talk it all out today y/n?" "I would like to yes" "Alright, well first things first. In order for us to be properly engaged you need something don't you?" He smiled taking my hand giving me a little kiss "so, would you like a suprise ring or a ring you know about?" "How so?" "We you know we want to be engaged so is me planning a whole suprise romantic day really necessary or can I just give you it?" "Well, not really I'd like just being given it" I smiled "Really? Alright then darling' he cooed giving my head a kiss "how about the ring? Anything specific you'd like?" "I don't know," "Come on y/n, anything at all any type of stone? Any shape? Anything at all?" "I don't know, I like the ones that have little skirts" "Ohh alright, good to know" "What about our wedding?" "Well on the grounds would be nice" "On the grounds? Where abouts?" "Perhaps close to the greenhouse with all the flowers" "See that'd be beautiful" "Or perhaps in the autumn with a nice thick layer of firey orange leaves" "Oohhh I do like that" he smiled "what about your dress?" "Secret" "See alright darling. What about me you want me in a special suit or?' "I don't know I have to think a little' '"I was thinking... It might sound s little crazy but, why wait for your process?" "What?" "Well all the family will be there for our wedding anyway, no point them all leaving for a couple of weeks to come back for your process" "So process right after we get married?' "Yeah after the ceremony, and before the party, and so that we can spend our wedding night bonded together?" "That does sound romantic and practical. Yeah well do that" "Really? Your happy with that?' "of course big party" I smiled "I love you so much my darling' he Cooes giving me some kisses "infact... It's a pleasant day" "It's rainy and miserable Thomas" "Well I think it's perfect. If you like we can go into town and you can pick out your ring?" "You mean it?" "Of course I do" "Yay!' I smiled jumping out of bed to get into a nicer dress and put a brush thought my hair quickly grabbing my bag and my jacket standing by the door ready to go and he hadn't even moved in that time "I'm ready" "Your really that excited?" "Let's go!" "Okay just let me-" "Let's go Thomas!" I whined grabbing his arm to jank him out of bed "Okay okay." He laughed giving my head a kiss "let me put som shoes on and get an umbrella for us, then we'll go"

We walked down the rainy streets huddled under the black umbrella, hiding from the intense rain. I held his arm tightly so we could cuddle the whole way, he walked road side making sure to push us back if a car rushed past to avoid us being splashed as well as his higher height providing a safe angle for me from the winds. The grey sky loomed over us without a sign of stopping anywhere. The rain battering all things in its wake leaving them in a dark shine. The small metal drains flooded and overflowing causing the rain water not to drain at all and meerly sit on top of the path. We stopped at a small local coffee shop grabbing a fancy caffeinated hot chocolate with marshmallow whip cream and chocolate dust even if we had to take the lids of at first as the cream and Marshmallow prevented the actual drink coming out but once that was sorted we headed back out into the rain looking for a jewelry store luckily it didn't take too long so we ducted under the blue and white awning and Thomas put down the umbrella giving it a shake "shall we my darling?" He Cooes offering his hand "We shall" I smiled giving his cold nose a kiss before we headed inside the very nice shop with a white wood floor, blue and white furnishings and a couple of well dressed staff members one woman in a tight white dress came over smiling at Thomas and seeming to look though me "Good afternoon sir. Something I can help you with Today?" She smiled "Yes. I am looking for an engagement ring" "Oh" she said for a second her smile dropping "well congratulations, if you'd like to follow me" she says headings deeper into the shop we followed her and she offered the seats at the side of the desk and she took the seat at the other side "engagement" she snapped at a young girl to the side who scampered off into the back "oh and have you brought your sister along to help you choose?" She asks giving me a side she as she fixed some paperwork Thomas gave her a look and then squeezed my hand pulling me closer "no this is my soon to be fiancé" She gave us bya very confused look "excuse me?" "The rings for her. We wanted to pick it out together" "That's not... How engagement rings work" "It is for us" I smiled "Alright" she shrugged confused but wanting the sale either way The young girl returned with a tray of silver sparkles a large tray full of variously priced engagement rings all of them looking much the same "this is our base level for rings you want something more impressive your going to have to go up in Price" "Price is immaterial" "Thomas-" I began "No no, price is irrelevant I won't even look at the price, I just want you to have a ring you'll love you have to wear it forever remember darling" "You're serious" "Very serious price is no object" he smiled giving me a kiss

"well then if I may be so bold" she smiled giving her assistant a glare who ran off and brought back a different set that was clearly much more expensive even I thought it looked exactly the same.

"Anything jumping out at you darling?"

"Not really there all a bit boring" I admit and she gave me a very harsh look

"well, we can always try somewhere else?" Thomas suggested

"No," she snapped "well what sort of thing are you after?"

"Yeah, what did you want darling?"

"well I wanted a gothic-style ring"

"Gothic?"

"Yeah more dark and spooky"

"... Uhh I'm not sure we have anything like that," she says

"You wanted one of those with the little skirts right?" "I did yes" I nodded "something more smokey, dark with more intricate metal work rather then one big shiny rock on a band" "Well I'm not sure we can help you' she snapped "Erica -" the young girl tried to speak up "Not Infront of customers" she snapped back "But -" "No." "I guess we should try somewhere else" I said Thomas nodded and we started to get up but the girl ran off and quickly came back with one small ring display "Something like this?' the girl asked showing me the ring It was beautiful. It had three antique gold bands of the same thickness with leaves formed into the metal to look like twisting ivy around the finger that wore it the top band featured seven small blue Goldstone gems in diamond cuts held on their edges the middle one slightly higher then the others to form a small peak, the two outermost and middle stone had another part small metal gasps holding sparkly stones that resembled stars in the sky. The bottom band had a similar three goldstone gems held the same at the top but these where set with two at the bottom in the centre of the band a larger stone in the centre of those two slightly forward forming a peak and then another small white sparkling stone on its edge resembling yet another star. And on the centre band was two smaller gold stone gems places beside two sparks diamonds cut into Cresent moons that day either side of the large impressive blood red stone held in the metals grasp like a dragons claw. "What is it?" "An experiment. Your head craftsman tinkering around with it for the Halloween display he was going to take it apart again for the bits but I'm sure he wouldn't mind us selling it to you" she explained handing it over so I couldn't take a better look "Knowone wants that damn ugly thing, send it back for parts, I can get some more options for you to take a look at" "Wait. Do you like it?' Thomas asked having a closer look himself "It's so beautiful. But if-" "Do you like it darling?" "I do. It's so perfect" I smiled He took it from the display giving it another look over before taking my hand slipping it on my ring finger and to my surprise it fit perfectly "perfect?" "Perfect" "Alright" he smiled giving my temple a kiss "sold" he smiled handing the girl his card "Excellent" the other woman smiled snatching it from the young girl "Not you. She sold it she gets the commission" Thomas said snatching his card back and handing it to the young girl "and add a tip for dealing with her" he told her "Thank you" she smiled happily rushing off to do so the woman meerly glared at us but I couldn't help looking at my ring "You really love it?" "I do. It just feels perfect" "Well you have to wear it forever remember" "I'd happily wear it forever" The girl returned with his card and the paperwork so if there was issues we could get it fixed up as well as a box for me to keep it in even if the box sent into my handbag so I could wear my ring once everything was sorted we headed back out into the rain. I stood unable to stop looking at my beautiful ring when Thomas cuddled me from behind making me jump. "Pack" he told me "we weren't meant to be on the road an hour ago" he laughed as I was packing up the very last of the things I wanted to take with me knowing I wasn't going to be coming back here "Sorry Thomas" "If I have to I will take that ring and put it in its box till we get our packing done" he warns "Nooo" I whined "Then pack darling!" He laughed "or so help me I will tickle you" "Just a few more things" I said gathering the last two things I wanted to take "You said that four suitcases ago" "Don't get smart with me Thomas" I warned "all done" "Oh thank god. Right I'll take these down you do a double check and we'll get off home" "Alright" I nodded he took my bags down to the car and I sent around the empty apartment making sure nothing was left behind that I wanted to take with me but honestly I didn't want or need any of the stuff still here so I said my goodbyes and headed down leaving my key at the front desk for a moment I felt so sorrowful leaving this life behind me but I walked out seeing the car with Thomas stood having just put in my last bag looking pleased with himself for fitting it all in "You ready to go?" "Yeah I'm ready," I nodded giving him a kiss and climbing onto the car

I smiled when we finally arrived back at the manor the driveway full of vans, and specialist cars full of workmen but we headed thought the grounds to the little summer house a small cottage close to the woods with ivy growing up it not too far from the plane barn. I headed in noticing most of of stuff already here from our packing before we went to my apartment, most of it just boxed up and it would likely stay that way for a good while the cottage was sweet with a little kitchen, a small dinning table, a sofa, fireplace grandfather clock, and a small staircase to the upstairs loft space where a bed sat with the bathroom below it.

"Snug" I said

"Cosy. But it'll do till the house gets renovated" he says

"What was this before?"

"It used to be where my mum dumped me to play days she didn't wanna deal with me used to be filled with toys and such added the bed because she kept forgetting she shut me in here. Basically my own playhouse"

"Hu. Rich people" I laughed going upstairs to give the bed a test laying down on my stomach so I could look out across the little cottage and still see the fire place

"Well our little ones will have a playhouse bigger when this I promise' he smiled laying down beside me but facing the ceiling

"Why does your childhood playhouse have a fireplace?"

"I'm a vampire? I'm immortal. What am I gonna do?"

"Good point"

"Plus vampire kids tend to be smarter. Because you know your still tiny and adorable for like twenty years"

"Fair enough." I nodded "how old are you exactly?"

"Why?"

"Curious" I shrug

"No'

"What'

"I'm not telling you"

"Why not?" I whined

"Because you'll get mad at me"

"Why would I be mad at you?'

"Because then you'll see just how much of an age gap we have"

"Your a vampire I accept we have an age gap Thomas"

"I mean if someone else knew our age gap I'd likely be called a pervert. Or worse"

"Thomas. Just tell me"

"Fine. you promise you won't get mad at me?"

"I promise"

"You know what guess."

"Guess? How old you are?"

"Yes"

"Okay, older than me?"

"Obviously"

"Hummm can I ask questions?"

"Ask away my darling"

"Do you remember... the new millennium? The year 2000"

"Was I alive? Yes. Do I remember It? no"

"Why?"

"It was a millennium. Even for vampires there are rare don't you think I was plastered?"

"Good point" I nodded "do you remember..." I giggled getting my phone to find things to test him on "the dissolution of the Soviet Union"

"Yes. That's not that long ago darling"

"Okay... do you remember the fall of the Berlin wall?"

"Yes. They watched it on TV. I distinctly remember going to the kitchen and getting some pie walking and seeing them watching it. I almost dropped my pie."

"What pie was it?"

"Blackberry. It was good pie"

"Why do you remember that?"

"I've lived a long life you remember weird details"

"Or just good pies"

"It was delicious. Maybe you could make me some nice pie?"

"If your good" I smiled giving him a kiss

"Chernobyl?"

"The show or the thing?'

"The actual accident"

"Yes. And I freaked the fuck out. I was convinced it was the end of the world"

"I mean that's a logical thinking given a nuclear explosion"

"They still building that dome or they done now?"

"There done by gonna have to keep building domes forever"

"Aww well when it's eventually safe and sound in a few hundred years or so maybe we'll take a trip. Be good place for us to go on holiday. Because A we can survive and B we can watch it all return to normal over time'

"Ohhh I've always wanted to go. Book it. I wanna go"

"Will do"

"Okay... do you remember ohh star wars?"

"Yes and I literally saw it about twenty times in the cinema"

"Why?'

"I loved it! It's amazing! I do have the original VHS tapes and the original set of figures somewhere"

"You do!"

"Yeah?"

"Thomas, those must be worth a fortune!"

"And they are staying in their box. There all sealed up with sink wrap in a airtight box"

"So they're like mint mint!"

"I think 99 percent I go them graded a few years back and the like mail in thing you got before the figures came out I have like four of those"

"You know how much those are worth!"

"Yes. And I'm keeping them. That is how vampires do stocks my love. Don't trust banks or stock marks so alot of the time we collect stuff some stuff does well others don't" he explained "I bought a load of phantom menace stuff in preparation for the movie to come out... that was a terrible idea"

"Awww you're like dragons. Of cool collectables"

"Pretty much. I cried at phantom menace"

"Why? I didn't think that film could give people emotion other then utter cringe and pain"

"It was disappointment. I've told you before I'm inpatient I loved the originals so so much and I waited so long for the prequels and I bought all the stuff I was so so hyped. And all I felt was crushing disappointment. I cried."

"Awww that's cute" I giggled "what else do you have in your vault of valuables?"

"You'll find out" he winked

"Do you remember the moon landing"

"Yes. And I'm still waiting for my trip to the moon I have two seats reserved for whatever flight first takes people to the moon. I didn't imagine if be waiting this long"

"The coronation?"

"Which one?"

"The queen you dunderhead"

"Vampire. Immortal. I've seen alot of royalty" he laughed "but yes. Why are we going in decades we both know I'm older then that"

"Okay first world war?"

"Yes. I was Air Force. Because I couldn't really be ground combat"

"Why?"

"I can't die. But it's unfair."

"True"

"How many bombs and gun shots and grenades do you think I survive before someone starts trying to experiment me"

"Good point"

"Anytime my plane went down and I lived I just came home gave myself a new name and went back they where do desperate for trained pilots they didn't care" He explained "did that for both world wars and even got to keep my favorite girl"

"Your plane?"

"Yep. Got me through alot that plane. Least I could do is take care of her"

"That's sweet. Do you remember... ohh the Victorian rule?"

"Yes. And I miss it everyday."

"Do you?"

"It was so fancy. I loved it. It was like England's goth phase everyone was in black gowns and doing death photoshoots and senses. It was a good time to be a vampire"

"I can imagine so, maybe we could get some fancy clothes and dress up like it's the Victorian era for an afternoon"

"Ooohh Victorian afternoon go sit in the library and read some old gothic literature?"

"Yeah"

"Sounds heavenly my darling. But that would require you to get into a corset"

"I have always been curious about them I think history has given them a bad wrap."

"You wanna get in a corset?"

"Kinda for science"

"Ummm shhh" he says putting a finger on my mouth

"Why?" I asked it coming out a little gurgled from his finger blocking my lips

"I'm imagining you in a corset... ummm no. No. I'm hard enough"

"Are you?'

"When aren't I? When I have such a beautiful fiencé" he smirked trying to cuddle me

"We haven't finished our game'

"Fine your still way out though"

"What about? 1801?"

"Around and kicking."

"Before or after Lillibeth?'

"1801?'

"Yeah"

"Uhhh just after I ate her in 1791"

"And you courted her for twenty-five years?'

"Yes"

"So that's 1766? And you were young then"

"For a vampire yes"

"I wanna take a guess"

"Alright guess away"

"You were born in... 1720? Am I close?"

"Well, you're kinda close"

"How far off?"

"1697"

"I wasn't that far off"

"Not in vampire turns no."

"So our age gap is..."

"Yeah."

"Your right I am mad at you"

I woke with a stretch and a yawn in our warm little cottage, but as my eyes cleared I noticed I was all alone. "Hello?" I whined but no answer so I slipped on a dress for the day and hurried down expecting to see him in the kitchen or the shower but I saw a large bouquet of roses on the table in a sweet vase with a little note. I smiled and opened the little note up seeing his sweet handwriting

'Good Morning My darling,

I was going to wake you but you looked so beautiful sleeping so soundly,

You have a nice day all to yourself I have some work to do in the workshop where I'll be if you need me

I love you and I'll see you later

X Thomas'

I smiled and gave the flowers a bit of an arrange, I headed out grabbing a jacket on my way and walking though the grounds following the path along until I arrived at the spa heading inside seeing it wasn't empty

"Ohh there you are, Hello y/n" His mother smiled to me as she sat working on her nails

"Y/n!" Ava smiled rushing over clearly just out of the sauna

"Hi" I giggled "everything okay?"

"Course workmen are busy" his mother smiled

"And Olivers In the garden working with his flowers" Ava smiled

"Aww that's sweet" I smiled "we haven't been back long,"

"Where is my idiot of a brother anyway?"

"workshop"

"Oh whats my son tinkering with now?"

"no idea he was gone when I got up" I answered heading to sit with them to do my nails too

"Huuuuuu! yay!" Ava yelled as she saw my hands and of course my ring "yes! I get a sister in law!" she smiled giving me tight hug

"it is a beautiful ring, he didn't say he was getting you one of those just yet"

"well it was quiet a spur of the moment thing" I giggled

"Its beautiful, trust my brother to get a large impressive ring" she sighed comparing mine to her own

"well it was a completely unique ring and I love it so much, we wanted to make sure that it was perfect as I have to wear it forever"

"you know what we have to do?" ava smiled "Wedding planning!"

I finished up doing my nails as well as going through ideas and concepts for the wedding I did tell them I wanted to keep my dress a secret but we came up with a lot of ideas and ava began a folder for me so we could get planning and organizing, I bidded the girls farewell and headed back out the following the paths along till I discovered the workshop a large garage type stone building where his motorbikes and on old car sat the building full of tools and such and there he saw at a workbench surrounded by tools working on....something. I don't know what.

"Thomas?" I asked poking my head inside which made him stop what he was doing putting his tools down and turning on his stool to see me

"aww what's up buttercup?" he asks

"Nothing, I just wanted to come visit" I smiled heading over to give him a cuddle

"Aww, perfect timing I was just missing you darling" he smiled kissing my hands

"you were?"

"I was I was just thinking about you and then you popped in" he smiled

"You didn't just smell my blood?"

"Well... that might have been something to do with it" he smirked

"I did my nails" I smiled showing him my hands

"Ooohh... very match your ring"

"That was the idea"

"That's adorable" He cooes giving me a kiss

"What are you working on?"

"just tinkering with one of my bikes darling that's all." He smiled "hows about you and me go for a nice walk"

"where too?"

"hummmm I know a spot. Just a moment we'll get going"

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tigerlilla · 2 years

Text

falling

a daisuga fanfic

summary: “i watched you fall. in your white shirt. and i saw you, i could see you in the white tux you already had picked out, walking down the aisle on our wedding day. i saw your bright yellow socks. your favorite ones, the ones with the little smiley faces on them. i could see you chasing our daughter around the house in those socks. suga, i could see it clear as day, our future together. i could see you in those plaid pants you love so much on your first day of teaching. you looked so happy, suga. i could see you reaching out to me singing “daiiichiii,” in the way i loved. i watched you fall.

inspired by foolish men have tried, but only you have shown me how to love being alive by s_beth on ao3

tw// death, suicide, terrorism, 9/11, grief

—

6:15 am

“suga,” i kiss sugawara’s shoulder, “it’s time to wake up.”

suga murmurs something similar to “no, daichi,” and pulls my arm up against his chest. he’s warm. i want nothing more than to get back in bed and cuddle with him all day long.

“suga,” i sigh and wrestle my arm out his grasp. “wake up, honey. i’m going to make breakfast and you better come out dressed for work in 10 minutes, mkay?”

suga groans.

i walk to the end of the bed, “you leave me no choice.” i yank the blankets off the bed and walk out chuckling, ignoring suga’s protests.

i hum softly to myself as i tie the apron suga got me for my 20th birthday around my waist. it says “kiss the cook” in hot pink glittery letters and has lacy frills on the bottom in a skirt-like shape. i turn on the coffee maker and grab the pancake mix out of the pantry. my body goes into autopilot as i mix the pancake batter and pour it in the skillet. i’ve been flipping pancakes for suga since we roomed together our first year of college.

i hear suga turn on the sink in our bathroom. thank god he’s actually up and getting ready.

i go back to my cooking, flipping the pancakes high up in the air. i’ve perfected the art of pancake flipping. suga and i have always joked that if i wasn’t in the police academy, i should be a cook at the pancake house. i’m sure i’d get great tips from amazed customers.

i hear suga fumble around in our bedroom as i’m putting his pancakes on the plate.

“koushi,” i call, “your breakfast is ready.”

i hear the soft padding of his socks on the wood floor of our apartment, but i pretend i don’t notice him sneaking up behind me.

“good morning,” suga coos into my ear as he kisses my neck. he runs his hands down my hips. i know what he’s trying to do. and i want it, i really do. but i can’t, we can’t. suga can’t be late again or he’ll get fired.

“have you brushed your teeth?” i turn around with a smirk.

suga stands there in his tight, plaid dress pants and his white dress shirt hanging unbuttoned, exposing his pale stomach.

“that’s mean,” suga huffs. “i’ll brush em after i eat my pancakes.”

“blueberry pancakes,” i say with a smile as i hand him the plate, “as always.”

“thank you, dai,” suga says as he kisses my cheek.

“of course,” i smile at him, being careful not to stare for too long. i cant get distracted. suga will take advantage of my moment of weakness.

“so,” suga says as he sips his coffee, “what are you doing on your day off, mr. sawamura?”

i place another pancake on suga’s plate. “i don’t know. what should i do today, mr. sawamura?”

suga giggles, “it’s not mr. sawamura, yet. and i kinda like my last name. maybe you could be mr. sugawara?”

“mmm,” i reply, “we can talk more when you get home from work.”

suga groans, “please don’t make me go, daichi.”

i sigh and run my hands through my hair. “i’m sorry, suga. i don’t want to make you go to work. i can’t make you.”

“i know.” suga walks over to me and cups my cheek in his hand, “it’s okay, baby. one day i’ll be a first grade teacher at our kids school and you’ll be the best police officer on the force. we’ll walk our kids, one girl and one boy, to school each morning. i’ll kiss you goodbye in front of the school and our kids will giggle at us. right now, we’re getting ourselves there, mkay?”

i turn my head and kiss his hand. “mkay. still, i feel bad making you go to a job you hate while i stay home.”

“shush,” suga murmurs. “you work hard at the police academy. you deserve this day off. besides, today will be like every other day: boring as hell. i’ll call you if i get the chance, okay?”

i kiss him in response.

“i gotta go, dai,” suga sighs. “i can’t miss the train.”

“mkay,” i say as i button up his shirt for him. “let me grab your lunch.” i grab his lunch bag off the counter. “have a good day, honey.” i kiss his cheek.

suga hums in approval. “bye, babe. i love you, dai.” he shoves his lunch in his briefcase.

“i love you, suga,” i kiss him.

suga giggles, “you taste like blueberries.”

i smile, “bye, baby, i love you.”

suga blows me a kiss, “i love you more.” suga closes the door behind him.

“i love you most,” i whisper.

————————————

8:51 am, the north tower of the world trade center has been hit.

you have three missed calls and one new message.

tuesday, eight fifty-one am, “daichi, baby, i need you to answer your phone. i don’t know what’s going on, but it sounded like an explosion. call me back as soon as you can, i love you.”

————————————

9:03 am, united airlines flight 175 crashes into the south tower of the world trade center.

you have eight missed calls and two new messages.

tuesday, nine o three am, “daichi, where are you? you’re probably out on a run, but hurry up and get home. i don’t know what’s going on, but i think we might be evacuating. no one really knows what happening- oh my god, oh my god, daichi. please call me back. please. a plane just hit the south tower. i think we’re under attack. be safe, daichi. i love you.

————————————

10:00 am, the south tower has collapsed.

you have seventeen missed calls and one new message.

tuesday, ten am, “daichi, god, daichi. i’m going to die here. i’m going to die. daichi, please call me back. i just wanna hear your voice one more time. call me back.”

————————————

10:05 am

i run up the stairs to our apartment and shove the keys into the lock. my hands are shaking. it takes me a couple tries to unlock the door. i immediately rush to the phone.

shit, shit, shit, shit. i listen to suga’s messages. i call him back.

“please pick up, suga,” i plead. he doesn’t. i get his voicemail.

“suga, suga,” i cry into the phone, “baby, it’ll be okay. i’m here. i’m here baby. i’m here. i love you so much,” my body shakes. “i’m so sorry, suga. i’m so sorry. i was out on a run and then the plane hit and i heard something but i didn’t know what it was and then it took me forever to get back home because,” my voice catches in my throat. “pick up, baby. i love you.”

i rush into the living room and turn on the tv.

————————————

10:17 am

you have 1 missed call and one new message.

tuesday, ten seventeen am, “daichi, i love you. i’m so sorry i missed your call. janice-you know janice? the one i complain about?-she was using my phone to call her son. thank you for leaving a message. i forgive you for not answering. you’re not to blame for anything, daichi. i love you more than anything. remember what i said this morning? about our future life? i want that for you, baby. i want you to have everything, daichi. i want you to have children. i want you to walk them to school. i want you to make all your dreams possible. do it for me, daichi. do it for us. i love you more than anything. i love you more than everything. i love you, daichi. i love you-“

————————————

10:20

“suga, baby,” i cry into the phone, “stop talking like that. call me back. please. please, suga. i love you. you’re gonna be okay. suga,” i sob, “suga, i love you. i love you. and we’re gonna grow old together. i love you so much. please, suga. call me back. i love you.”

i place the receiver back on the machine. i stumble in front of the tv. i can barely see. tears run down my face.

suddenly, everything is clear. i see him. i see him jump. i see his body turn. i see him curled up, facing the bright blue sky, his hands reaching up. his silver hair like a halo around his head. his white dress shirt billowing in the wind. one black shoe, one bright yellow sock. he’s not falling. he’s floating, like an angel.

i crawl closer to the tv screen. screaming his name. the news station cuts away. i curl into a ball and cry. the love of my life. he’s gone. god, why did you take koushi away from me?

my love is gone. my heart is broken.

————————————

10:28 am, the north tower of the world trade center collapses.

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september 20th, 2001

“koushi,” i say into my phone, “i miss you. i’m here. i’m here with you. where you died. i’ve been helping, the whole police academy has been. we’ve been helping with clean up. i keep looking for you. they told me that your body will probably never be found.

i’ve listened to your voicemail messages more times than you can count. i know you told me not to feel guilty, but i can’t help it. you wanted to stay home. what if i said yes? what if i didn’t stop your wandering hands? what if i made you stay home with me? what if i…” i laugh. “you know, suga, i can hear you scolding me, right now. ‘don’t talk like that! i told you not to feel guilty!’ i can hear your voice so clearly. i can see your cute pout.

suga, i’m so glad you left me those voicemails. this way i’ll never forget the sound of your voice. i’ll never forget what you sounded like when you said my name. i’ll never forget that when you said ‘i love you,’ you sang it a bit. i loved it when you did that. i loved it when you told me you loved me.” i wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“i cried constantly for a few days. asahi had to carry me to bed and feed me.” i chuckle. “it was actually kinda funny… if you were here, you’d think it was funny. but you’re not here. you’re not here, suga. and it’s left me broken.

you told me to continue on… without you. but i can’t, suga,” tears continue to fall down my face. “i can’t do it without you. i cant follow my dreams without you. because, suga, you were my dream. you were the only thing i ever wanted, the only thing i ever needed. suga, it was you. it was always you. koushi, you were the light of my life. no, you are the light of my life.”

i smile sadly, “we dreamed of a family. of adopting a boy and a girl. of walking them to school. and grossing them out with our pda. that was our dream, suga, our dream. i cant do it without you. i don’t even think i can live without you, suga. it’s so hard.

i just keep watching. i keep watching you jump. watching you reaching for something just beyond your grasp. what were you reaching for suga? were you reaching for me? were you reaching for heaven? were you reaching for our future,” a sob rips through my chest.

“suga,” i take a breath, “i watched you fall. in your white shirt. and i saw you, i could see you in the white tux you already had picked out, walking down the aisle on our wedding day. i saw your bright yellow socks. your favorite ones, the ones with the little smiley faces on them. i could see you chasing our daughter around the house in those socks. suga, i could see it clear as day, our future together. i could see you in those plaid pants you love so much on your first day of teaching. you looked so happy, suga. i could see you reaching out to me and singing “daiiichiii,” in the way i loved. i watched you fall.

and asahi told me that i’m imagining it. he told me that it’s not you. but who else has silver hair as gorgeous as yours. asahi said that he couldn’t even see what color your socks were. i saw. it was you suga. i know it. and i cant help but feel guilty. i should have answered the phone. i didn’t hear it. i had the stupid tv turned up too loud. why did i have the tv up so loud? how did i miss your call? why did i not stand by the phone, waiting for you to call me back?

and asahi tells me that it wouldn’t have made a difference. that if you hadn’t jumped, you would have died when the building collapsed. and i know he’s right. suga, i know he’s right. and i know that i can’t keep leaving voicemails. i know that you can’t hear them. i know that you’re dead. koushi, i know you’re gone. but how am i supposed to live without the man who’s been by my side since high school? how can i live without the one i love? suga, please, tell me how i can keep on going? tell me, suga.

koushi, when i saw you jump, i knew it was you. i recorded it on vcr. i watch it everyday, multiple times. i’ve gotten over the shock of watching you die. it’s beautiful, you know. you look so beautiful, like an angel. like an angel falling to earth. my angel, falling down to me. every time i see the man jump off the eighty-ninth floor of the north tower, i watch in awe. your hair floating around you, your shirt untucked, one shoe tied too tight, your bright yellow sock, your hand reaching up into the sky. you’re so beautiful, koushi. there you are, my suga, falling. falling into the unknown. i watch as you fall onto the bed on top of me after our wedding. i watch you fall over laughing with our kids. i watch you falling, and i fall in love with you all over again.

my beautiful koushi, i’ll fall into the future, not knowing what it might hold, not knowing if i’ll ever be able to get over this pain in my chest, not knowing if i’ll ever be able to live without you. because, suga, you taught me how.

sugawara koushi, you taught me how to fall. i love you. i love you most of all. and, suga, i’m falling with you, forever and ever. together, we’re falling.”

#sugawara koushi #sugawara #suga #daichi #sawamura daichi #daisuga #hq daichi #hq #daichi x sugawara #sad ending #haikyuu!!#haikyu fanfiction

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poorshadowspaintedqueens · 2 years

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WIP Wed--er, Saturday

I meant to post this on Wednesday but had book manuscript edits to finish for my Not A Day Job so those took priority. From Chapter 5 of Dragon’s Heart Wrapt in Woman’s Hide, on the morning of Rhaenyra’s official investiture as Princess of Dragonstone and heiress to the Iron Throne.

Aunt Rhaenys hugged her close. “I’ve brought you something.”

Inside the battered saddlebag she always carried when she rode Meleys was an object wrapped in a black velvet scarf. As she unwrapped it, Rhaenyra caught the faintest scent of flowers, and for a split-second she was in Dragonstone, beside the Old Queen’s bed. Inside was a crown of delicate gold, studded with rubies and pearls, and wrought into the shape of a three-headed dragon. “Good Queen Alysanne wore this for her coronation. How proud she would be to see it on your head.”

“She wanted you to be queen,” said Rhaenyra. That’s what Maester Gerardys told me. And Mother said he was right.”

With a sigh, Aunt Rhaenys set the crown on Rhaenyra’s dressing-table and sank into the chair Laena had left behind. “She did. And, at the time, I wanted it too. Gods, I wanted it. But when Grandfather chose Viserys, I confess some part of me was relieved.”

“Why?”

“Why, indeed,” murmured Aunt Rhaenys. “If I had been named heir to the throne, I would have had to make polite conversation for the rest of my life with an endless parade of ignorant men who believed in their hearts that I was unfit to rule over them. And, unfortunately, when one is Queen, one cannot simply…” She mimed a punch at the air, and Rhaenyra giggled. “A ruler is, first and foremost, beholden to the realm. If I were queen, my life wouldn’t be my own; Meleys would grow fat and lazy because I would never have time to ride her, and your uncle Corlys would run off to Asshai with some sailor because I would have no time for him.”

“He would never!” The love story of Aunt Rhaenys and Uncle Corlys was almost as famous as the Old King and Queen’s.

Aunt Rhaenys was smiling, but there was something in her face that made Rhaenyra wonder how much of what she said was actually a joke. “It is no easy thing your father is asking of you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“But everyone’s here,” Rhaenyra said, her heart pounding all of a sudden. She imagined running from Maegor’s Holdfast, saddling Syrax, and flying away, not even knowing where. “All the lords and ladies. If I said no, it would make Father look a fool.”

“He doesn’t care about that. If you don’t want this, he won’t make you do it. I promise you that.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” asked Rhaenyra. “You said you were proud of me.”

“Oh, gods,” Aunt Rhaenys let out a bark of laughter loud enough to startle Rhaenyra. “I’m not trying to scare you, sweetling, I promise. But you’re so very young. The way Laena talks about you—they’re bloody vipers in that court. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted this. You’re not ready.”

“I’m Father’s cupbearer,” Rhaenyra protested, her cheeks red. “I’ve been in every meeting of the Small Council, nearly enough.” That wasn’t entirely true, but being around Laena had made her better at lying. “Lord Strong thinks I’m clever, and Father says he’s smarter than half the Council put together.”

“You are clever, Rhaenyra. But even clever people need time to grow.” Aunt Rhaenys knelt in front of her, closing her large hands around Rhaenyra’s. “If this is truly what you want, House Velaryon is yours to command. But I want you to be sure, sweetling.”

Rhaenyra swallowed, but she nodded. “I’m sure. It’s what Father wants. And maybe the Old Queen can be happy now, even if she didn’t quite get what she wanted?”

Aunt Rhaenys was gazing up at her with a strange look on her face. “Then I pledge unto you, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, that the faith and fortunes of House Velaryon are yours to command henceforth, from now until the Stranger takes us.”

#asoiaf #asoiaf fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys the queen who never was #fic by me #fic: dragon's heart wrapt in woman's hide

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greatbigbellies · 5 months

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2023 PREGNANCY KINK ADVENT CALENDAR (DAY 21)

The Maternity Seamstress: 3rd Trimester.

Reily had fallen into a bit of a slump. Work had been consistent but… maybe TOO consistent, actually. The orders and alterations had started to become samey, and while there was comfort in being paid to do things she was well practiced in… Reily liked to improve. She liked to challenge herself! She couldn’t sharpen her skills if every hem, patch job, or dress pattern was functionally the same as every other commission she’d taken in the last few months. She needed something that would push her, make her really think, and put her seamstress mind to the test.

What she didn’t expect, however, was that the challenge she coveted would come in the form of a now three time repeat customer. This customer struggling to open the door to Reily’s shop while carrying an intricate formal dress, and maneuvering around a triplet heavy pregnant belly. Reily’s head popped up from what she was doing at the sound of her customer bell ringing awkwardly, like it was getting repeatedly interrupted and jostled. She stood up and began her greeting, “Good afternoon! Welcome to pins and n-” she stopped mid-sentence when she spotted who it was.

Hailie struggled as she tried to push the front door out of the way with her elbows, her arms full of dress, and having difficulty working around a very pronounced torpedo belly. Reily jogged over and took the door for her, eliciting a sigh from the overburdened woman. “Thanks Reily… normally this wouldn’t be an issue but I’m trying desperately not to use my bump as a battering ram, though it really sticks out like one,” she sighed. Reily let her though and followed her up to the counter. “Not an issue. It’s good to see you again! I have to assume next time we meet you’ll be pushing a stroller?” she joked. Hailie laughed tiredly, laying her dress out on the counter. “I have to hope, it’s been an eventful 8 months but I’m ready to be able to bend forward again,” she said.

Reily smiled as she looked over Hailie. She was still the same tall, beautiful, blonde socialite that had walked in to Pins and Needles almost half a year ago, but she sported a baby bump that was impossible to ignore. Her belly jutted out quite far from her frame, with a slight downward lean thanks to gravity. It wasn’t a polite but noticeable singleton bump, it was a mountain, that took up space and demanded attention. Hailie wasn’t just kinda pregnant, she was PREGNANT pregnant. Even with a triplet heavy tummy taking up so much of her body, she was still immaculate. Not a hair out of place, professional looking makeup, and a dress that did everything it could to look classy while being functional maternity wear.

“What are we working on today? This piece looks lovely!” asked Reily, looking over the dress that Heilie had brought in. It was intricate, with beautiful folds and inlaid gemstones, the kind of dress you might wear to a… “Are you getting married?” Reily added, glancing excitedly at Hailie. Hailie scoffed, “What? No… no, but my sister is. The thing is… a lot of plans were made before I knew I was pregnant and…” she looked nervously at the dress. Reily furrowed her brow, “Did your sister not… accommodate for… this?” she asked, gesturing plainly at the pregnant mountain that hung off of Hailie. The blonde woman shook her head frustratedly, “No, she didn’t. She said she ‘planned to’ but it fell through the cracks. And I WOULD just buy a different dress that fits, but my sister is a perfectionist, and wants all of her maids of honor wearing the same dress, and the company who makes it has too long of a turnaround time, and the wedding is in three weeks and they just handed me a dress they knew I couldn’t even begin to squeeze my pregnant ass into and…” Hailie stopped, taking a moment to breathe and blink back tears. It was clear this whole situation was highly stressful for her, and Reily was developing the impression that Hailie had been singled out due to her pregnancy.

“You need it in three weeks?” Reily asked, trying to refocus Heilie on the task at hand. Hailie nodded, “First saturday of next month, and it has to fit around THIS,” she placed a hand on each broadside of her belly, “...without losing too much of that front design, or the side folds. I’m not sure how possible it is, especially in such a short timeframe…” she sighed. Reily looked intently at the dress, turning it and folding it to look it over. Hailie just looked at the dress, seeming already defeated, “You’re my only hope Reily, no one else can do it in such a short time without cutting corners that I KNOW my sister would notice,” she pleaded.

Reily held up the dress one last time, and nodded, “It’ll be close, I’ll probably be putting the finishing touches on it within 48 hours of your sister getting hitched but… it’s possible,” she said. Hailie breathed a sigh of relief, “Really? You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Money is no object, whatever your rate or premium, I’ll pay it,” she said. Reily smiled sympathetically, “Just my usual hourly rate. I’m not in the business of taking advantage of someone’s desperation,” she reassured her. Hailie sighed, a little relieved. She looked down at herself, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I would appreciate letting out an extra inch or two, maybe keeping it loose on the front… this blimp is going to lean even farther forward when they drop, and the lack of time between my sister’s wedding and my due date has us all nervous,” she lamented.

Reily nodded, pulling out a tape measure, stealing glances at the gargantuan belly hanging off of Hailie. “We can get more measurements later but… let me get just the waistline real quick, so I can spitball how much more fabric to get,” she said, Hailie nodding and lifted her arms.

Reily bent forward and wrapped the tape measure around Hailie’s triplet-full belly, struggling to reach around with her shorter stature and armspan. She pursed her lips at the result of the measurement. Hailie sighed, “Go on, lay it on me, what’s the circumference?” Reily looked up at Hailie, making semi-apologetic eye contact. “Uh, 68 inches…” she muttered. Hailie just shrugged, shaking her head. “I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you,” she remarked.

Reily nodded, pulling her measuring tape back but continuing to stare at Hailie’s tummy. With a womb that full, the seamstress had a lot of overtime hours ahead of her. She glanced at the dress, and accepted the challenge.

#2023 pregnancy kink advent calendar #long post #writing

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