#like when you find 'the one' prom/wedding dress

[dazaistabletop]

I feel like we should've known this was going to happen considering Fyodor looks like he was just meant to be wearing those clothes

#at least he didnt take over chuuya...? #i think bram's fashion suits him better #anyways ignoring the screaming in the background--does he not look amazing in a long all black coat? #i feel like this was what he was meantttt to wear #like when you find 'the one' prom/wedding dress #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd manga #bsd spoilers #bsd spoiler #bsd chapter 114.5 #bram stoker #bsd bram #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #bsd dostoevsky

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2)

“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.

“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 

By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.

“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 

“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”

You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.

Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.

Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.

He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 

Two Years Earlier…

“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”

“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”

Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.

“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.

He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.

“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 

“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.

“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”

You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.

“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”

He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.

As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 

Now…

Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.

But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 

It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.

Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.

Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.

Two Years Ago…

“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.

Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.

“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 

“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”

“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”

With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.

“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.

You just kept walking.

Now…

You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 

You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 

You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  

Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.

His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 

For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.

“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 

“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”

You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 

“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020

You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.

You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.

“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”

As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…

“Ward Cameron.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 

And Rafe…Rafe.

You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.

You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.

You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.

You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 

By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.

When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.

“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.

You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 

“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.

You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.

“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”

“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”

“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.

“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 

You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.

“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”

Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.

You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.

Twelve Years Earlier…

“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”

“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 

“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 

The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.

“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.

Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.

(chapter 4)

a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶

If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #obx fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #obx smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fanfic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

[leonw4nter]

Hi🌸

I saw that you were accepting requests so I have one for you. How about bringing husband Leon to the reader's high school reunion? The reader is kind of happy to bring Leon to his old classmates but Leon is so handsome and all that your old acquaintances are wondering why your marriage happened in the first place.

I was thinking about Leon re4r or id, but you can choose anyone!🌸

A Playlist for My Dream High School Romance

Husband!ID!Leon x GN!Reader

Plain Jane: this is what you were in high school, though you didn’t really mind since there was more to being the most beautiful or the most outgoing in school. You always thought you dressed well; not the most fashionable but enough to look decent for school. You also looked fine, not too ugly or too beautiful with the round red framed glasses on your face. The lack of romantic experiences in high school sometimes bothered you but you didn’t mind it overall; you’ve seen the drama of high school romance in your classmates and ultimately decided that staying single is the best option for now… though sometimes you envied it when girls received flowers from their boyfriends or when you saw couples fill out the dance floor and slow danced during the prom. As a dramatic teen, you wailed to your pillow about how you’d never find the love of your life because you were too boring and how you’d always be the third wheel for every couple you’ll meet– hell, you were even confessed to because the boy was double-dog-dared to! You swore that you were destined to only daydream about falling in love with the man of your dreams, dancing under the rain or receiving carnival prices only scenarios that unfolded while you’re fast asleep.

Little did they know, they’d have the maker of their dreams to wake up to in the future; scenes ripped out of a romance novel were no longer bound within the confines of dreams. Leon was more than you’d asked for in the best way possible; he is more than just the beautiful combination of blond and blue, no. The first time you saw him, you thought he looked perfect, the epitome of beauty and charm. As you two got closer and he let you into his life and laid bare his scars for you, you saw that he is not a perfect man– far from it actually– yet you still loved him, maybe even more and much fiercely. You understood and listened to all his stories, accepted him for how he is, the same way he did with you.

Leon’s wedding ring momentarily flashed a bright gold as sunlight reflected from the band, his hands on the wheel as he drove you to your high school. A little nervous was an understatement for how antsy you’re feeling, though you found it stupid to feel this way since these people somewhat remember you and you’re just visiting the school– you literally went to this school for four years and managed to survive each time. Leon stopped the car at a red light, upbeat pop music playing faintly on the radio. He turned to look at you and saw you bouncing your leg, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you stared out on the road. You snapped out of the negative flurry of thoughts troubling you, jerking slightly as you felt Leon’s large hand on your shoulder.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Leon says as he sees you mentally pop back into the car with him. “You okay?”

You nod, giving him a half-smile as you place a hand on top of his that was perched on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you say. Just before you could let Leon say another word, you decide to speak up about whatever was bugging you.

“It’s a little stupid, I know. I mean– I went to school with most of these people for about 4 years and managed to do just fine. God, it’s silly of me to be nervous–”

“Hey,” Leon softly interrupts. “It’s only natural for you to be nervous about this. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen them and you’re expecting change in how they act and look and you’re not sure in what way they’ve changed.”

“Yeah that too but… you know, what if I’m like– too boring again?”

“Too boring?” Leon says in a confused yet gentle tone. “Honey, you’re not ‘too boring’ and if they think so then they can buzz off.”

Leon’s words caused some confidence to stir within you, feeling a little better about yourself. This isn’t like high school anymore. You got this! You got this!

Since the red light switched to green, Leon had to withdraw his hand from your shoulder and put it on the brake handle for the car to start moving again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If someone’s bothering you, just yelp and I’ll beat them up.” Leon joked.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After a few minutes of Leon driving and hyping yourself up some more, he finally arrives at the school and pulls up into the parking lot. After a few moments of choosing the perfect spot to park, he gets out of the car first in order to open the door for you, which you thanked him for.

You two walked into the entrance and you looked around. Not a lot has changed, not even the color of the paint on the walls though you realized that they probably gave it a fresh coat since it looked much more vibrant than what your memory told you to expect. The lockers were still where they were when you still went to this school but they no longer had the scratched paint and rusting locks, along with the residue of glue from stickers that had been forcefully peeled off.

“Silverlake High School’s Silver Archers,” Leon quietly mutters to himself. “Your school’s mascot is an archer?”

“Yeah. Though we didn’t have an archery club, which I found kinda silly,” you respond.

Leon hums and continues to look at the trophy case, occasionally reading some things out loud.

“Honey look,” Leon says. “I found you!”

He points to a small picture in the case; it was you with your ratty old glasses and a silver medal around your neck, a small trophy on your hands along with some flowers. You lit up as you looked at that image, the memory clear as day; you had won second place in the inter-school extemporaneous speech competition with other neighboring high schools. You shared this fact with Leon, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline as he looked at you and then the case and back to you again, thoroughly impressed.

“I wifed up a genius,” Leon exclaims. “So you managed to win a competition where they asked the world’s most pressing questions and only gave you a minute to compose your answer in front of everybody? And you had to make sure that your answer would fit in 6 minutes? God you’re so cool.”

You giggled a little bit at that, suddenly feeling like the coolest person in this entire Earth. You thought that this win is truly a feat but these facts coming from Leon’s mouth? Your husband saying it? It was as if you were doing his job, saving the world and fighting off the stuff of nightmares with a pistol; it sounded even more impressive coming from him. Now, he was taking his phone out to take pictures of the other awards you’ve won that were displayed on the case.

“Leon, we gotta hurry. The reunion might’ve started already!”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Luckily, you two made it on time. Like magic, you were less anxious compared to earlier and managed to find the courage to even greet some of your classmates. Leon was proud that you were breaking out of your shell to greet them, really feeling it with each laugh and conversation shared with some old acquaintances.

“Oh? Who’s that? He’s hot,” your classmate asks. “Never seen him around before. I wonder if he’s single.”

You turn around to where she’s pointing, only to see that she was pointing at Leon. Your husband. Oh he sure as hell isn’t single.

“Oh him? He’s Leon. My husband,” you say. You weren’t one to get jealous but to hear your classmate call Leon ‘hot’ and wonder if he’s single triggered a reaction out of you.

She looked surprised, looking back at you and then him and back at you again like a deer in headlights.

“Wait… really? Like you’re really married?” she asked and it didn’t sound like she was ready to ask how you two met; she sounded like she wanted to know how someone like him could marry someone like you.

“Yeah, I can make a quick run to the court right now for a copy of our marriage certificate,” you half-joke in order to hide the growing feeling of hurt.

“Uh, haha…,” she mumbles. “He’s everything actually- like he’s really good eye-candy. You’re lucky he chose you, you know.”

“I’m lucky he chose me? What do you mean by that.” you say.

“What do you mean?” She asks, oblivious to the fact on how mean that sounded. Or maybe she was just playing oblivious.

“Nevermind.”

You retreat from the group walking up to Leon and watch people socialize. Before he can even ask, the emcee for the reunion calls everyone’s attention and says some words but even the volume of that loud-ass mic was not enough to drown out the doubt swirling on your mind. You’re only pulled out of your thoughts when you hear her voice again, this time talking to other people about how shocked she is that you’re married to him, out of all people. The plain Jane married to the absolute 10 she’s ever seen and how it’s a little comical to look at when there could’ve been much hotter women. You also hate how she keeps glancing back at him and giggling, not even sparing a glance at you.

“That woman cannot stop looking at me,” Leon whispers to you as he subtly motions to her.

“Her? Yeah, she called you ‘hot’ and ‘eye-candy’. She’s a little surprised to find out that you’re married to me,” you moodily mumble.

“Why is she surprised?,” he asks.

“Well, look at me and then look at you. You’re good-looking. Really good looking and I’m just here. To them, it would be more believable if you married some model or something. It’s like an ‘oh my god how did this marriage even happen’ moment.”

Leon looks at them, trained eyes staring them down for a solid few moments before turning his gaze back to you. “Well I kind of looked at me and then now I’m looking at you and I think you’re good-looking. Like really good-looking. I have a strong, intelligent, and independent person in front of me and I don’t think they need me but they still let me into their life. Yeah, I’m also having a ‘how did this marriage even happen’ moment’ because how did I get so lucky that out of all the people in this world, you fell in love with me and trusted the rest of your life and the lives after this to be spent with someone like me?”, he finishes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world; he probably doesn’t need to look at the night sky in order to admire the stars when you have them in your eyes. The world just melted away into background noise, witness to the genuine love and loyalty Leon yields for you.

NOTE - Finally got to finish another request, a few more to go so just wait for that :)) I love being on break, can't wait for the summer break so I get to write some more (currently on a week-long break after exams, hopefully i passed with high scores on all exams!!). ALSO IT'S RE4R'S 1ST YEAR ANNIVERSARY WHERE I'M FROM LETS GOOOOO RAAAHHHHH 💪💪🔥🔥 I also got resident evil and dmc shirts I begged my mom for (she had no choice but to say yes /hj). Also I'm starting an AO3 account for devil may cry fics, if anyone's interested ;) That's all and thank you for reading my fics, esp to the anon who requested this- I hope you I lived up to your expectations <33 I <33333 UUUUUUUU

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #biohazard #resident evil x reader #rebhfun #resident evil infinite darkness #infinite darkness leon #leon kennedy infinite darkness

[keeksandgigz]

i don't want you like a best friend- day 2 of keeks's lover house series

Day 2 of my Lover House series♡

♡Best Friend! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader♡

best friends to lovers, painful pining, idiots in love, queer!eddie mentioned, smut, you've heard the song

Read Day 1 here!

"Carve your name into my bedpost/ 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend"

You thought Eddie had no clue of the feelings you harbored for him.

Since high school you've been pining for your best friend. Every car ride, every smoke session in his room, every concert you've gone together. Every single time you helped him haul equipment on and off his van. You've been in love with him for the past six years.

However, when he asks you to be his plus one at Steve's wedding it doesn't shock you. You were his date to proms, homecomings and various events-- there was no Eddie without you and vice versa.

This time seems different, though, as the end of the night was fast approaching. You sit at one of the tables, fumbling with the buckle of your shoes, trying yo get rid of the painful sting at the back of your heel.

Eddie follows you back from the dance floor to the table. Having shed the jacket of his suit and his tie, he's left with the top three buttons undone, and his frizzy hair tied up in a low bun as his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead.

He looks so effortlessly beautiful you can't help but try to hold back from jumping his bones. An activity you've gotten way too good at-- holding back.

He kneels on the floor, seeing you struggle with the buckle as he takes your ankle in his hand.

"Lemme do it" he says over the loud music "are your feet hurting?" the touch of his hands on the skin of your ankle makes you shiver. You nod.

"You lemme know when you wanna head back to the hotel room, I'll come with" he smiles, leaving a sweet caress on the arch of your foot. You're used to this.

The touching, the caresses. It's just how he is. Touchy.

When his hand seems to linger too much on your leg when you watch movies together at your apartment, or when you seem to be too tucked into his chest when walking down the street, his arm around your shoulders.

It drives you up a wall, he seems to always get too close. Unconscious to the idea that maybe, just maybe...

"You know what, Ed? I'm going up, I'll go say goodnight to Steve and go" you smile at him, pitter pattering your way across the dance floor, where Steve and his bride are still in the happy throes of love as he spins her around and they laugh in unison.

Eddie watches you, hips swaying with every step you take. That dress has been driving him insane all night. Dark green, tight around your hips. Multiple times in the span of the night he's had to subtly conceal his boner from the way you were dancing on him. The cocktails at the open bar getting into your system.

And there you are again, turning his brain to mush, seeing how your dress hugs you so perfectly. So he follows you like a little puppy dog, hoping to get to see more of you. Hoping you'll ask for his help in undoing your zipper as you get ready for bed.

"Tonight was fun" you sigh, walking towards your room "I think we're next, Ed" you elbow him, eyebrows raising suggestively.

"Do I have a girlfriend or boyfriend I don't know about?" he snickers, running an arm around your shoulders- God, you're so soft.

"Well, no. But you better get working on it, we're not getting any younger" you smile at him "I won't start looking 'til you do, loverboy" you laugh, still in a tipsy stupor.

You take out your key and open the door to your room.

"Need me to stay with you?" he gives you one of his pretty boy smiles. The ones that make your stomach flutter with confused butterflies.

"You don't have to, but you're welcome in if you want to. I'll just change in the bathroom" he follows you in as you rummage through your suitcase to find your toiletries.

"Don't change yet. That dress cost you a fortune, don't you want to enjoy it?" he just can't get enough of you in the dress, the green velvet hugging your body like it was made for you. Like you came out of his wildest dreams.

An awkward laugh escapes you "'kay, so what should I do then?" you lean on the dresser, crossing your arms. Your tits push up at the motion. He feels himself stir in his slacks as he pats down the spot next to him on the bed.

You sit down, body turned towards him. "What is it?" your heart thrums within your chest. The touchiness isn't unusual, but the tension that fills the room seems different. Almost like an invisible electricity.

"What if I didn't have to look?" his hand moves closer to yours, fingertips barely touching. You take a ragged breath in.

"I'm not sure what you're saying, Eddie" your hand scooches closer to his. He feels the softness of your fingers. He wonders if you're this soft everywhere.

"I don't have to look for someone to be with. No one's going to be you" you feel like your breath has been knocked out of your lungs "and I know you feel the same, so can we please stop it with the act and kiss already" you feel dizzy, hands shaking on top of his, fingers lightly entwined.

He feels the trembling in your hand as he envelops it with his. Your face feels hot.

"How'd you-" you begin, his free hand goes to your cheek, cupping. His thumb stroking the skin, moving the hair that falls on your face away from it.

"You've never been a master of subtlety, sweetheart" he smiles, his lips so close to yours you can smell the tequila shots on his breath. Breath that you're currently out of. The hand on your cheek makes a minimal movement, your lips meeting on impact.

And it's like a dam has been broken. Years of pining, waiting, jealousy, end here. Eddie's tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip, as a moan slips out of you. A moan you've been holding in along with all the breath you had.

You get more bold with each swipe of his tongue, opening your mouth up for him to give him more access. Your hands reach up to the buttons of his dress shirt, slowly making your way down each eyelet, revealing his milky skin smattered with black ink.

"I've been wanting to get that dress of of you since you got in the car this morning" he nips at your bottom lip, moving down to leave open mouthed kiss down the column of your neck.

A breathless moan falling from your lips as he reaches for the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders.

He reaches under the slit of your dress, you gasp at his actions, still trying to convince yourself that this is real. That what is happening is not just another stupid dream.

Caressing the side of your thigh, he bunches up the velvet of her dress around your hips, your hands trapped in Eddie’s hair as you let breathless gasps escape you.

“You like me touching you?” he asks, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass, it’s getting all so much already, with a whine you lean your forehead on his shoulder.

“Hey, no, look at me” he grabs your face gingerly, letting your eyes meet "I've been waiting to see you like this. I need to see you" and in the shushed whispers it's like you're not even in a hotel room anymore.

He's created your own universe, where the perfection of your bodies, hands, fingers, breaths intertwined, they're everything that matters for a brief moment in time.

Eddie reaches behind your back, feeling around for the zipper of your dress. You hold a breath in, briefly overtaken by a strange feeling. He's never seen you like this.

"It's okay, it's just me" it's almost like he senses your unease in the air, placing a chaste kiss to your shoulder, like a soothing balm for your heart. The zipper begins to go down, its buzzing fills the room, a ticking clock for what's about to happen.

"I can't believe we waited this long" he says with bated breath, as you get the dress of of you "you're so gorgeous" he mumbles against the skin of your wrist placing an open mouthed kiss there.

Your heart thrums, you want to answer him, you want to say that you've loved him since high school, you've played the waiting game and the reward was right in front of you. Instead you just whimper as Eddie lays you down, reaching a hand in between your legs. You stop him immediately.

"I need you right now. I'm ready" you urge feverishly, you feel hot, a burning need to get close to him. Feeling like you might die if you don't feel him sink into you right this instant.

He smiles. Understanding, maybe a little cocky as he chuckles and leans back, undoing the belt of his slacks, finally letting his cock spring free, after a whole day of suffocating confinement.

Your mouth hangs open, murmuring your name against the skin of your abdomen, your chest, placing a kiss on each of your breasts, then mouthing at your neck.

"Ready?" he looks at you for any trace of hesitation, a pinch in your eyebrows that says this is a mistake, but there's only relief, almost like you'd been waiting too long for this. Years of pining could have easily ended much earlier, Eddie's been waiting as much as you have. Too much of a pussy to do anything about it, thinking he was way out of your league.

He tosses those thoughts aside, he has you now, ready and waiting under him. Nodding eagerly to let himself inside you, without wasting a moment.

And when he does, your eyebrows pinch together, but there's relief in your eyes, as you both begin to rock back and forth on the soft mattress. Small whimpers escaping you, grabbing at Eddie's neck for support.

"I've been wanting you like this since our senior prom, Eddie" you mumble, and he feels like an idiot, because he's never connected the dots. His heart hurts for the time you lost, but you lightly take his hand into yours- a silent "you have me now."

With every thrust, he sees your eyes roll back in bliss, letting out the sweetest noises he's ever heard. And he knows it, then, that he wants to keep you forever.

He mumbles your name again, and every time he does, you tighten around him. The world seems to stop for a moment as he chants it like a prayer. Kneeling at the neglected altar of your body, silently begging for forgiveness in his prayer.

But everyone of his wrongdoings seems to be washed away with every moan and whine, your pitch getting higher with every thrust. Eddie speeds up, feeling himself getting closer with a twang of embarrassment. It should have lasted longer.

"'I'm close" you whisper, gripping onto his shoulders, his back, anywhere your hands can grip him, not wanting to let him go. He keeps his pace, noticing a small sliver of tears at your waterline.

When you come undone with a silent scream, biting at his shoulder to not make noise, he follows you soon, spilling himself inside of you with a low groan.

His forehead comes into contact with yours, breathing against you, letting the rise and fall of his chest match yours. Regulating himself before detaching himself from you.

His hand keeps holding on to yours, as you drink in the moment, not wanting to let it escape from your fingertips.

He turns towards you with a smile "So I guess we're next then?"

Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is so incredibly appreciated!

Day 3 is 1989! Fill out the form Here

tagging some people: @strangerstilinski, @taintedcigs, @melodymunson, @reidsbtch, @eddies-house, @eddiesxangel, @lavendermunson, @xxhellfirebunnyxx

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #best friend!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #keeks's lover house series

[geralts-yenn]

Memories - part 1

Walter Marshall x OFC Maxine (second-person pov)

summary: At your brother's wedding you have to face a ghost from your past - Walter Marshall - and you find yourself lost in memories

warnings: 18+, minors DNI! drinking alcohol, vaginal fingering, hand job, protected p-in-v sex

word count: 4,8k

A/N: a little idea that got me out of my writer's block 😍 special thanks to @peyton-warren for being my wonderful beta and @raccoon-eyed-rebel for the constant support ❤️

My masterlist

“Oh, hello! Who’s that guy and why are you not throwing yourself at him?” Your brand-new sister-in-law nudged you in your side and pointed her chin towards a man standing at the bar. You followed her gaze and noticed a pair of wide shoulders under a head of untamed chocolate curls. For a second you weren’t sure, but then the man turned to the side and you cursed. You’d always recognize that dimpled nose, even when he gave his best to hide the rest of his beautiful face under a wild beard. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s Walter fucking Marshall.” Your eyes were rolling in your head furiously. Up to this moment you were praying to all the goddesses in the universe that he would be stopped by a blizzard or whatever would have kept him in Minnesota. But there he was, which meant you had to face him. Something you’ve dreaded ever since your brother told you he’d invite him to his wedding.

Vicky snorted into her champagne flute. “So that’s why Josh never showed me any photos of his most precious childhood companion.” Her eyes were roaming over Walter’s features unashamedly. “He’s delicious. Now I’m really curious why you hate him so much.”

Your prom night should have been the best day of your life. You had been so excited, your friends and you were giggling and cheering for weeks every time you were speaking about what you had planned. After dating Paul for almost a year now, you had promised him to let him get to the fourth base that night. Not just to do him a favor, you were ready. Or so you told yourself. But then the day came and with every minute that passed you got more nervous. Paul had sneaked a flask of liquor into the place and you took a sip, hoping it would loosen you up but it only made you feel more nauseous. 

When you left the party, Paul’s hands kept running up and down your thigh that was revealed by the high slit in your dress. You wanted to tell him to stop, but you couldn’t. You had promised it to him after all. When Paul parked his car at the motel, you were about to vomit. You really, really couldn’t do this. And so you stopped him just as he was about to unlock the door to the room where you were supposed to lose your virginity to him.

You were scared to tell him, and rightfully so. As soon as you had finished explaining, he started yelling. Calling you a frigid whore. You still remember how you thought that this didn’t make any sense. But that night you couldn’t laugh about it. You were shaking and crying when he drove off from the parking lot, leaving you sitting on the sidewalk. The rain starting to fall felt like punishment for your stupid decision. Though you weren't sure yet if your foolishness was to say no or to come here in the first place. Either way you were cold and wet and alone.

What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t call your mom. How would you explain to her that you were in front of a cheap motel instead of your friend Kelly’s house, where you told her you’d spend the night? You couldn’t call Kelly either, she was with Charlie and probably doing exactly what you had planned for tonight. Going through all your friends in your head, you didn’t come up with one name that you dared to tell the truth about what had happened. 

But then it didn’t matter anymore because a car stopped next to you and when the window rolled down you were ready to die of embarrassment. 

“Need a ride?” Walter’s face was hidden in the shadow of a tree, so you couldn’t make out whether he was hiding amusement or showing concern. It didn’t matter anyway. He was your only option to get away from this stupid place, so you nodded and got up. You hadn’t expected Walter to actually get out of the car, but he did. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you to the passenger’s door that he held open for you. 

When he crawled back into the driver’s seat you finally could make out his handsome features. He didn’t look at you, his eyes were glued to the road. You noticed that he was clenching his jaw constantly, his muscles flexing, and the knuckles of his hands were white as he held the steering wheel in a murderous grip. Definitely concern. You were relieved about this. If there was one guy you really cared about what he was thinking about you, it was Walter, your older brother's best friend, the guy you had a crush on since forever. 

“Did that stupid asshole leave you there all alone?” His voice was shaky. He was mad. You nodded with a sniffle. “I’m going to kill him! Did he hurt you?” You were shaking your head, but Walter turned to look at you, his eyes piercing. “Use your words, Max! Did he hurt you? I need you to tell me!” 

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “He didn’t.” It was a whisper but the tension in Walter’s face diminished a little, so you guessed he had heard you. “I told him that I don’t want to do this and he just got a little angry and left.”

Walter grunted through gritted teeth. “A little angry? Max, do you even hear yourself? You’ve got every right to say no and that bastard should have taken it like a man and accepted it. Fuck! I’m so mad, I want to rearrange his face.”

Walter’s anger somehow made you feel better. The way he was protective of you left a warm feeling in your chest. “I appreciate this, Walter, but there’s no need to. I told him to fuck off and never ever try to call me again.”

There wasn't really more to say and you were grateful to Walter for letting you sob in silence and not making this more embarrassing than it already was. 

But then he stopped at a crossing, looking at you. “Can I bring you home? Or do you want to go somewhere else?” His look was a lot softer than earlier, as he studied your face. “I know Charlie has taken Kelly to our cabin. Else I could have let you spend the night there. But you can sleep in my room if that's ok with you. I will take Charlie's. My parents are visiting friends for the weekend.”

The thought of spending the night in Walter's bed got your heart's pace to speed up again. It almost made you laugh. Isn't this what you had dreamt of for years? The crush you had on Walter never really faded, even after you had started dating other guys. But all of this wasn't even nearly the way you had imagined it so many times, laying in bed and picturing Walter's face. Yet, it was your best option right now and so you agreed. 

Walter even asked you if he should change the bedding, but you shook your head firmly, hopefully not revealing how much you wanted to sink into those sheets that held Walter's scent. You were just finished changing for the night, fortunately you had packed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, when Walter knocked on the door. After you answered with a yes, his curly head appeared in the door frame, glancing carefully into the room. 

“I brought you some water.” When he had checked that you were decent and comfortable with him in the room, he took a step forward and put the bottle on his nightstand. “If you need anything, I'm in Charlie's room.” He had already turned to leave, but then you heard yourself calling his name, not knowing what made you do it. And you couldn't believe your next words yourself either.

“Would you stay a little with me? I don't want to be alone.” 

Walter froze in his movements. A small eternity later, he turned to face you. “Are you sure?” 

Ignoring your racing heart, you nodded and rolled to the side of the bed, making space for him to join you.  

Walter moved carefully, almost as if he feared you would change your mind if he startled you. He crawled under the duvet with you and wrapped an arm over your shoulder, his hand stilling at the nape of your neck.

“Comfortable?” he asked you, and you couldn't get out more than a small yes. More comfortable than you had ever been in your life, you thought, but you would rather die than tell him that.

You lay in silence next to each other for what felt like hours, even though it probably wasn't more than a few minutes. Then you finally had gathered enough courage to speak.

“Thank you, Walter. I wouldn't have known what to do without you.” His fingers started to draw little circles over your skin. 

“No need to thank me. I'm glad I found you.” He was staring at you with an intensity that left you completely unable to form any word or even thought. So instead you raised your hand to his face and carefully traced the sharp line of his jaw with your fingers. 

Walter's lips parted ever so lightly, but it was the only sign it took for you. You leaned forward, your nose brushing over Walter's, his warm breath scraping over your skin. Without a second thought, you crossed the last little distance and your mouths found each other. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his warm and soft lips against yours. This was better than everything you could have ever imagined. Walter parted his lips, inviting your tongue to explore and taste him. Butterflies were fluttering through your stomach, you felt like you were floating in midair, as his tongue started dancing with yours. 

Walter’s hands roamed over your back as he deepened the kiss even further. You moaned into his mouth. You had never felt like this. There was this strange tension building in your center that you had never experienced with someone else before and it was shooting straight to that point between your legs. You wanted him to touch you. You wanted his mouth on your skin. You wanted him. So bad. But Walter seemed to hold back. His kiss was not that urgent and consuming any more and his hands stopped whenever they were touching your skin, going back to your clothed shoulders. 

“Please, Walter!” you begged. Your own hands found their way under the hem of his shirt and as you brushed your fingers over his abs, he flinched, accompanied by a groan. You felt the soft tuft of hair that ran down from his stomach into the waistband of his pants. Damn, just minutes earlier you would have been sure that it would be gross to feel this. But now you were clenching your thighs together in an unsuccessful attempt to still your desire to feel something. He was everything you ever wanted and he lay here in your arms right now, grinding his hips against your thighs and pressing kisses onto your neck, making sure you felt how much he wanted this, he wanted you. 

You gladly noticed that his will to resist you crumbled under your touch. He pressed himself against you and you could feel what it did to him, feeling his cock hard against your soft thigh. 

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and brushed your hand over his length, restrained by the fabric of his jeans. 

Walter answered your touch with a sharp breath followed by a grunt. “Fuck! Are you sure you want to do this?” His reaction made you insecure for a tiny moment, but the way he rutted into your palm gave you new courage. 

“I am.” You sounded confident, but Walter wasn't convinced yet. “Promise me that you will tell me if you want me to stop, Max!” You saw the tension in his face as he waited for your answer. Nodding wasn't enough for him, his eyebrows furrowed. “I promise,” you breathed finally. 

After he had heard you, Walter wasn't able to hold back anymore. He grinded his crotch up against you as his hands found their way under your shirt. When his fingertips brushed over your sides, electric shocks ran through your whole body. 

Frantically, both of you tried to remove each other's clothes. Your hands got tangled as you tried to unbutton Walter's jeans. He chuckled and then helped you with the task. 

You swallowed hard when you saw his erection hardly hidden in his boxer briefs. He was a lot. Definitely more than you had ever seen. Not that you were very experienced in the department of hard-ons, but it made you hesitate for a moment. 

Of course, Walter noticed. “Are you okay?” You nodded as you bit back your insecurities and gave him a determined yes. You reached for him, but Walter pushed your shoulders back onto the mattress. His body pressed you down while he was licking and sucking along your neck. Your shirt was in his way as he moved down your collarbone and he gave way just long enough for you to tug it over your head before his mouth was back nipping on your tender skin.

Walter's head sank lower, his face soon buried between your breasts. You felt his lips and tongue move over your chest, leaving a trail of wetness behind that made your skin prickle. 

When his mouth found its destination on one of your hardened nipples and he bit down on it, the sensation shot right to your core. You wouldn't have been able to suppress the lewd sound you made, even if you wanted to. His tongue lapped over the hard bud to soothe the ache but it only made you moan louder. Walter responded to the noises you made by grinding his cock against your thigh. 

All this felt incredibly good. Way better than everything you had ever felt with Paul. When Walter moved to your other breast and treated it in the same passionate way, you pushed the thought of your ex aside. In fact, you just stopped thinking at all and let your instincts take over. Your head fell back as you moaned loudly when Walter pinched your one nipple while sucking on the other. All this wasn’t enough, there was this need between your thighs that made you feel so desperate. Your hand wrapped around Walter's wrist and guided him firmly into your panties. 

“Oh, fuck!” he groaned when his fingers met the wetness that pooled between your legs. He ran his fingers along your slit a few times, gathering your arousal before he switched to rubbing circles around your clit. You bit your lip when he found just the right spot and pressure, only to curse when he left it way too soon. “No, please, this felt so good.” You weren’t even ashamed of begging. You just wanted to feel more of this. 

“Let me make it a little more comfortable?” Walter asked you as he tugged on the waistband of your panties. You lifted your hips and he made quick work of rolling your underwear down your legs. Your knees fell to the side, opening up for him. And Walter was eager to get back, his fingers now moving with even more skill through your folds and around your bundle of nerves. His mouth was back on yours now, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting into your mouth and swirling around yours the same way as his fingers were now circling your entrance. 

You rolled your hips in response, showing him to move on, to finally give your aching pussy something to clench around. And Walter obeyed your silent pleas, pushing one of his fingers into you in a painfully slow movement. He was not just pumping into you, he was exploring you, inch by inch, feeling for every spot that evoked a reaction from you. And when he found what he was looking for, when you arched your back, crying out, he curled his lips into a smile and he added a second finger. You noticed the stretch, but it felt good, the way he pressed against your walls exactly where you wanted him.

Now he started to thrust his fingers into you in a steady rhythm. You moved your hips against him, fucking his fingers. Walter’s other hand held your jaw firmly as he devoured your mouth, swallowing all the sounds that wanted to pass your lips. You felt the tension building in your core, spreading through your body. “Please, I’m close!” you whimpered, Walter answered with increasing pressure against your sweet spot and you snapped. Waves of pleasure ran through your body. You were a shaking mess in Walter’s arms.

“Shush, I got you!” he whispered in your ear, pressing kisses along your neck. He held you close until your soul was finally back in your body. And you couldn’t help it, you weren’t able to suppress the stupid giggles. Walter grinned down at you. “What?” he just asked, with the smug confidence of someone who knew exactly what he had done to you. “This was good!” you told him with a wide smile.

You continued with kissing and hands roaming over each other’s bodies. But the hard cock pressing against you reminded you that Walter hadn’t gotten nearly the attention that you got from him until now and you really wanted to change this. You brushed a finger up his length until you were at the waistband of his boxers. Your thumbs dug into it and carefully pushed it down to free his cock. 

Your hand wrapped around his length and you found yourself surprised at how soft the skin felt over his hard flesh. Slowly you started to stroke him. Your thumb ghosted over the tip of his cock and Walter let out a sharp hiss in response. Your eyes shot up to him, fearing you had hurt him, but the expression on his face told you had done quite the opposite. He had his eyes closed and his lips parted and when your hand started moving up and down his length again, he bit down on his lower lip. Seeing him like this made you all weak in the knees and you drank in the sight of it. Your pumps got more hasty now in the attempt to make it feel better for him, but that made Walter’s hand reach for you and stop you. “Wait!” He immediately saw the panic flashing over your face and he tried to chase it off by kissing you softly. “It’s just a little too dry. But we can change this.” 

He had his hand already reaching out to his nightstand when you took it and guided it between your legs. “I know a place where it’s not too dry.” Walter cursed at your suggestion. His chest was heaving. “Baby, do you really want to do this?” His voice was deep and raspy. His constant check-ins half annoyed you, half melted your heart. “You already made me promise, Walter. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t suggest it.” To make your point clear, you steered his fingers through your wet folds and he moaned as he felt the slick at your entrance. Walter swallowed and then moved to sit on his heels. “Okay then.” He couldn’t hide his nervousness in his shaky voice, and it was relieving to know that you were not alone with your excitement. He rummaged through the drawer of his bedside table until he held a condom and a bottle of lube in his hands. He rolled the condom over his dick and spread some lube over it. You watched him pumping his sheathed cock a few times, your heart almost breaking through your chest. So this was really happening.

Walter moved to settle between your legs, holding his weight on one elbow as his other hand guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. His eyes locked with yours, a last reassuring that you wanted him, and then you felt him enter you. The feeling took your breath away, it was overwhelming. You had expected to feel pain, but there was merely a small stinging that ebbed away immediately. Slowly Walter pushed deeper, until he was buried completely in you. He was looking at you with an expression you had never seen before. Something deep and vulnerable. His chest was heaving as he hovered over you. “Breathe!” he whispered and you obeyed, taking in a deep breath as Walter started to move. You whimpered as you felt him deep inside of you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you, concerned, but you just smiled. “No, it feels unfamiliar, but in a very good way. Keep going.” And so Walter started, retreating from you and thrusting back in. It was amazing, it made you scream, nothing had you prepared for feeling this way. It was heaven. And it must have been the same for Walter. He lost his rhythm, now slamming his hips desperately into you. You loved how vocal he was, grunting with every stroke. And then he threw back his head with a loud growl and you felt his hips shudder as he reached his climax. 

He pulled out of you, carefully, not to lose the condom. You felt empty without him and the kiss he pressed so firmly on your lips could barely make up for it. He held you in his arms as you both gasped for air. But when your breathing was almost back to normal, he left your side. “Just a minute. I need to take care of this.” He made a vague gesture toward his softening cock that was still covered by the condom.It took him only a minute until he was back in bed with you. “I’m sorry.” he said and you weren’t sure what he meant until his fingers were parting your lips and rubbing circles over your clit. “Let me make up for it, okay?” he asked you. You moaned but then held his hand in place. “You don’t have to do that, Walter.” you told him. And you meant it. All that you had felt with him tonight was better than you had ever imagined.“But I want to.” He resumed his ministrations between your legs. “I want you to feel good, too.” Another shaky breath later, you were able to answer him. “You already did that.” Walter smiled as he pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Another one surely won’t hurt.”

*****

You were sitting in the kitchen, making up your mind how long it would take you to walk back home. Too long. But did you have any other choice? Just as you were about to get up and head back home, you heard keys in the door and a few seconds later, Walter’s little brother was standing in the room looking at you confused. 

“Hi Charlie! Would you please drive me home?” He blinked at you and scratched his head. “Do you want to talk about it?” he just asked, probably running through all the possible scenarios how you ended up at his home early in the morning. But fortunately, he let go of it as you shook your head. So you had at least a little part of dignity left in his presence until Walter had time to fill him in about his last night’s conquest.

That afternoon, you found Walter standing on your porch when you were on your way to meet Kelly. “Josh isn’t home,” you told him indifferently, not even slowing down as you passed him. You had ignored all his calls and the messages he had sent. You didn’t want him to feel obligated to talk to you. To act as if he cared. Seeing him wouldn’t change this. Though it made it impossibly hard. It was just unfair how handsome he was. And when you looked into his face, he almost appeared to be sad. But you knew better, he was just tired of you already. 

His hand wrapped around your wrist as he stepped in your way. “Maxine, stop acting like nothing had happened. We need to talk.” You rolled your eyes at him and tried to free from his grip. Walter let go of your hand with a sigh. 

“Don’t make this bigger as it was, Walter.” you told him, rubbing your wrist as if his touch had burnt your skin. “We’ve been having fun, that’s it. Can we go on with our lives now?” You couldn’t even convince yourself with your words, but that was never the plan. You had to keep Walter away from you. Getting your heart broken by him was more than you could bear, so you decided to run before it was too late. 

Walter was shouting after you as you stormed down the steps. “Let me take you on a date! Give me a chance, Max!” A heavy weight pooled in your stomach as you heard it. This was all you ever wanted. But you were way too scared to act on it. Just thinking of your night with him almost broke you. How would it be to have more precious moments with him and then losing it all? Because that’s what was supposed to happen. He’d go back to college and find someone else. In no way could he ever be truthfully interested in you.

You had to turn him down a few more times. Later you started ignoring him just completely. That didn’t stop him. He gave you his damn puppy eyes and tried to talk to you. So you started to be mean to him. You said stupid things you didn’t mean, just to keep him away. And after a while it worked. The looks he gave you had changed. They were filled with anger and frustration now. And soon you found yourself hating each other. Initially, you weren’t sure if you just pretended to feel so, but after a while you had convinced yourself that this was what you felt for him. You hated looking at his stupidly gorgeous face, you hated his voice, the jokes he made, the way he was strutting, as if the world belonged to him. You hated that all the girls lay at his feet, acting as if he hung the moon. You hated him.

And Walter hated you. His jokes always went against you. He mocked every one of your life decisions. He laughed about every single thing you did.

And then he moved away. And somehow it almost felt like you missed him. And that made you hate him even more.

“I guess you never told Josh about that night?” Vicky smiled at you with amusement. She loved hearing about dramas like that. But you couldn’t be mad at her. It had been such a long time. It should be a funny story to tell by now. Yet, it still hurt to think about it. You never managed to get over that heartache. Well, that’s just how it is when your heart gets broken for the first time in your life, right?

“You know, you should have talked to him.” Vicky told you and you looked at her quizzically. “Who, Josh? No! He would have killed Walter. Or me. Probably both of us.” 

Vicky chuckled but shook her head. “Not Josh. Walter! You should have been honest with him about your feelings.”

You sighed. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about it. To be fair, you have asked yourself the same questions every day ever since. Should you have told him? Would it have been a bad idea to let him take you on a date? Would you two have had a chance? But it didn’t matter because you didn’t let him. And you would never know what could have been if you had decided differently back then, when you were eighteen and so much in love and so incredibly stupid.

Your sister-in-law watched you with narrowed eyes as you sat there thinking about your past with Walter. “It doesn’t matter, Vicky. We’re not teenagers anymore. It’s too late for that now.” 

But she shook her head. “It’s never too late. He’s here. You can tell him now.”  

A ridiculous voice in your head told you that she was right. That all it took was to take a step towards him and see what would happen. But you shook it off.

Part 2

#walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall fic #henry cavill characters #memories #walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fluff #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Same Old Truck

Jake Seresin x fem!reader  7k words (yeah i know)

summary: It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Jake Seresin. Back then, you were head over heels in love with him. Now you aren’t much better off. The only question: If it ended back then, how can you be sure it’ll last now?

a/n: still no clue about the us military. i googled it all and as we know google is inaccurate as shit so dont mind that  also that’s one of my favourite jake gifs so.... yeah. 

top gun masterlist

Usually on a Friday night, you would be sitting at home with a nice cup of tea, watching TV. Sometimes, you would be out with friends, drinking and dancing. Today, you were back at your old high school’s gym in a summer dress, champagne in one hand and phone in the purse at your side, chatting to people you hadn’t seen since graduation.

Everyone had come back today. All of the guys you had spent years next to in class, laughing with over lunch in the cafeteria, gossiping with, studying with, crying with. There were so many memories here, good ones as well as bad ones, and you’d dabbed at your cheeks more times already than you wanted to admit. But who could blame you? So many stories were being told again, half of which you’d forgotten over the years, and new ones as well - these of careers and weddings and kids. It was unbelievable how much and how fast everybody had grown up.  

Yet as happy as you were to be here, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread too, couldn’t help the gnawing in your stomach, the nerves bubbling up, the voices in your head that had been arguing for days now - Will he come? He’s far away after all. Do you even want him to come?

And after an hour of being here, an hour of not having seen him once, you were beginning to think that all that hope, all that dread, all that nervous anticipation had been for nothing in the end - he hadn’t come. You scolded yourself for the bitter taste that thought left in your mouth. You tried to wash it down with champagne. When that didn’t work, you excused yourself from the group you’d been catching up with to find something stronger. 

And, of course, just as you had lost hope, just as you decided fuck him, let’s get drunk, just as you turned around to walk to the bar, there he was, in all his glory, standing in the doorway with a killer grin, shirt with the top buttons undone, hands stuffed lazily in the pockets of his jeans, and as you felt yourself stiffen at nothing but the sight of him, you realised that even fifteen years later you were no better off than you had been in senior year in high school. 

Well, shit. 

A chorus of cheers went through the crowd when he stepped in, like he was some superstar, some hero. Of course. Obviously you weren’t the only one still stuck on high school impressions. 

Jake Seresin made it all of two steps into the gym before he was surrounded, shaking hands and greeting people and offering everyone a charming smile. You stood, dumbfounded, frozen in your spot - how you’d hoped he’d come. How you’d begged he wouldn’t. How you’d prayed he’d show up. How you’d pleaded he’d stay far, far away. 

His eyes met yours and you could feel your knees going weak at once. Goddamn, you had to get yourself together. You were a grown ass woman, an adult with her own successful career, her own apartment, her own cat, her own fucking life, not a teenage girl anymore wooed simply by the attention of the popular guy. 

At least that was what you told yourself as you tore your eyes away and forced yourself to turn around and walk up to the bar to pour a whiskey, ignoring your shaking hands as best as you could. One of the advantages of being an adult, of course, was this: There was alcohol at the prom now. No more forbidden bottles of wine and beer stolen from parents’ cabinets to sip after midnight, when the gym had closed and the teachers were going home and you were perched on the back of Jake’s truck with the rest of your friends in your dresses and suits. 

“He still looks at you like that.” 

You almost jumped out of your own skin at your old friend’s voice. You’d lost contact years ago - sad, really, because you’d always loved her. You remembered her in your bedroom, rummaging through your closet like it was hers, flitting about with the makeup she’d brought from home to help you get ready for your first date. You could remember her sleeping over any chance she got, you could remember staying at her’s every Saturday, you could remember dinner with her parents and torturing her little brother and staring in awe when she had got her first laptop. You’d been through thick and thin with her. 

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that”, you said, pushing the well of emotions down as far as you could. You were here to enjoy a night of catching up, not cry every time someone talked to you. She raised an eyebrow. 

“You still look at him like that too.” 

“Look at who like what?”, you asked, your fingers skimming the rim of your glass. You weren’t dumb - she was talking about him, of course, about Jake, about the way you’d frozen in place when you’d seen him. You had been hoping it hadn’t been as obvious, but it seemed it had been (despite your prayers). 

“You should go talk to him”, she said, brushing over your question completely. You bit your lip and looked down. 

“It’s been fifteen years”, you said softly. “I don’t know what I’d even say.” 

“It’s been fifteen years for everyone”, she countered. “And let me just remind you that reading people’s body language is part of my job. You very obviously want to talk to him.” 

Right - you’d forgotten she’d studied psychology. 

“I...” You took a deep breath and glanced up at her. “I’m not saying I don’t want to talk to him. I’m just saying... I don’t know what I’d tell him. And I don’t know if he even wants to talk to me.”

She snorted at that. 

“Are you kidding me? He’s been eyeing you from over there since he got here, he definitely wants to talk to you. He probably would’ve already if he wasn’t being cornered by literally half the people here at once.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course he’s still just as popular.”

You couldn’t help but grin. You knew very well that she loved him - at least that she had back then - and that she was feigning the annoyance just like she always had. They’d got in so much trouble together, pranked each other to the point where they’d both ended up in the ER, and you were surprised that they’d lost contact, though you knew yourself just how easily that happened. Time really did sneak up on you in life. You’d be surrounded by friends one day and when you looked back the day after that, years would have passed and they would all be off in some faraway corners of the world without you. 

Your eyes started filling with tears for the millionth time today. You tried to blink them away, but she noticed before you could. 

“Oh god”, she said, putting a hand to your arm, “Don’t cry or I’ll cry too.” 

“Sorry”, you laughed, in an attempt to get your mood back up. “It’s just- Sometimes I just wish we could go back. I didn’t even realise how much I missed you all. Promise me we’ll stay in touch after this, please? I don’t want to lose you again.” 

You could see the tears in her eyes when she sniffled and hugged you, throwing her arms around you with a fevor that nearly knocked you back. 

“Promise! And you promise to come to my wedding.”

You laughed as you held her close. “Definitely.” 

When she pulled away again, you had to dab at your eyes, but she wasn’t looking at you - she was looking at something behind you, the corners of her lips tugging upwards, and the twinkle in her expression reminded you of the way she’d always looked at Jake the second before tackling him.

Jake, you thought, and immediately your body reacted (to the mere thought of him, no less), a cold shiver running down your spine, your jaw clenching, your knees going weak. She winked at you. You had half a mind not to turn around. 

“Loverboy heading your way”, she muttered. She was already backing away when you came to your senses. 

“Don’t you want to, you know, catch up too?” 

Maybe it would be less weird if she stayed. Maybe you’d be less affected. Maybe... Or maybe not. But she wasn’t about to let you figure that out. 

“I’ve got his number saved”, she shrugged. “You just relax and enjoy it.” 

Relax and enjoy it, sure, sure, because that was so easy. Because you hadn’t spent the last fifteen years drinking up every tidbit of information about him that had somehow crossed your path. Which hadn’t been much anyway. He’d become a naval aviator, just like he’d always wanted. He’d been travelling all over the US. He’d come for the holidays whenever he’d been able to. That was that. So basically, you knew nothing. Nothing at all. 

You didn’t know if he was still the same Jake you’d dated back then. You had no clue if perhaps he was an entirely different person now. 

But you would have to find out. You would have to jump in at the deep end, because you were standing all alone at the bar with Jake coming up behind you. Your fingers swiped over your glass. You didn’t want to turn around. Yet everything inside of you was screaming at you to do it, just to look at him, just to know if this was the same guy that you’d been head-over-heels in love with in high school. 

He tapped your shoulder. You could smell his aftershave. Your hand wrapped around your glass as you took one last, deep breath and turned to him.

He’d grown. He was taller than you by a head now. His shoulders were broader. His hair was shorter. His hands were bigger, gripping the neck of a bottle of beer. His fingers were longer. You were certain that he was hiding a set of well-defined abs beneath his shirt.

But his face was still shaven - you remembered him doing it with your pink razor in your bathroom one Monday morning before school, when he hadn’t had the time the day before - and his eyes were still the same shade of greenish grey that you’d never quite managed to figure out. 

You had to smile involuntarily. 

“If it isn’t the prom king in all his glory”, you grinned, hiding your nerves under an all too familiar facade of teasing and flirting. “Just had to make a late, dramatic entrance, did you?” 

He grinned as well, resting his elbow on the bar top, his aftershave fully clogging up your senses. 

“Well, if it ain’t the prom queen”, he drawled. He paused to look at you. Really look at you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, and usually you’d think you would feel embarrassed or shy, but Jake had looked at you so many times before that all you felt was a sense of familiarity. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been eighteen years old. But you did nevertheless.

“You look stunning”, he said after a moment. You couldn’t help the heat spreading through your body like molten gold. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself”, you smiled - the understatement of the century. 

Jake Seresin had always looked just a bit too handsome for his own good. It had got him in and out of trouble often enough. But, well, back then he’d been a teenager, hardly an adult. Now he was grown up. He was wider and broader and older and if anything, he’d become even more handsome, even more attractive over the years: he’d got tan and obviously he’d been working out. His job seemed to be doing good for him. 

You couldn’t believe that after all these years, you were standing in front of him again. Looking at a man living his dream, not a boy just dreaming it anymore. He’d been extraordinary back then - now he was nothing short of impressive. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been staring at each other. It could’ve been anything from a few seconds to a few minutes. You didn’t mind. You didn’t think you’d have minded a few hours either. Compared to fifteen years, that was nothing.  

“I got off the plane two hours ago”, he explained eventually. “Hence the dramatic entrance.” 

You raised your eyebrows. 

“You got here today?”, you asked. 

“Two hours ago”, he repeated with a grin. 

“Shit”, you laughed. “What’d you do, miss the first three flights?” 

“Had to work ‘till five.” 

“Five?” You slipped your phone out of your pocket to take a look at the time. “It’s ten. How’d you get here in five hours?” 

His grin widened. 

“Kind of my job to be good with planes.” 

So he was still as cheeky as he’d been back then. And his accent had hardly changed - you’d dreaded hearing him with something like a Brooklyn one. God knows where he’d spent his time. 

But no. He was still your Jake. Your Jake from back then. Jake who’d taken you on an hour-long drive in his car just to go stargazing on a random Thursday night, Jake who’d climbed in through your window when there’d been no reason to, Jake who’d left you his cowboy hat even though it was his most prized possession. Jake. 

“Is it your job to get off the plane looking flawless too?”, you asked, heartbeat quickening. You’d never had inhibitions when it came to complimenting him. Sometimes you’d thought you shouldn’t fuel his ego further - though in the end you’d always decided he deserved it. Your friends had been so annoyed with you, but you’d never minded. You’d never minded his arrogant grins or that over-confident twinkle in his eyes. Maybe because you knew that despite it all, he was a big sweetheart, or maybe because it was all just so very justified. Because he was that talented, because he was that charming, because he was that attractive. So why, good lord, why should he not have known it? 

“You know I always look flawless”, he chuckled. 

“Ah, yes”, you said. “Of course. Always have, always will.” 

He paused for a moment. Then he said, “Much like you.” 

Your grin widened. He’d never seemed to have a problem complimenting you, either. God - he was here, he was real. After fifteen long years, you were finally seeing him again. And apart from a few differences, it was like he’d never left. 

“I missed you”, you whispered with a smile still on your lips. You didn’t leave him time to respond, too afraid that his answer might not be one you wanted to hear, that he might not have thought about you at all. Which you really couldn’t have held against him - it’d been so long you wouldn’t even have been surprised. “Now tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to know everything. If you did become the best pilot the navy’s ever seen, if you did visit every state. If your dream turned out just as good as you wanted it to.”

He did tell you. He told you about the academy, about the planes, about the places he’d been stationed at. (”That’s classified”, he chuckled when you asked him why he was stationed in San Diego now. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”) He told you about the people he worked with, about what a callsign was, about being one of the only ones on active duty who’d shot down enemy planes. But more importantly than that, he told you about what it felt like to fly. About the freedom of being up in the air, about being responsible for only him and his own plane, about power and liberty and about feeling like he belonged. 

You had to bite your lip to keep from getting too emotional again. He’d lost none of the charm of the young boy dreaming about all this, about planes, about flying, about how one day he’d be up there himself. He’d promised you - lying on the roof of his car, wrapped up in his arms, staring at the darkening sky and pointing out contrails - He’d promised you that one day he’d do it. You had made him swear he wouldn’t stop at anything to get there. 

“You seem happy”, you said when he’d finished, a genuine smile on your lips. He did seem happy. And you were happy for him. 

“I am”, he agreed. He looked at you again, looked you in the eyes with an easy grin, voice turning all serious. “Just sometimes think I could be happier.” 

You felt the intensity of his eyes stronger, then. Heat rushed to your cheeks. You grabbed your glass more tightly. 

“Happier how?”, you asked, a bit breathless, because you thought you knew the answer. But you wanted to hear him say it. Hear him admit that he’d not forgotten about you. That he’d remembered the little girl from school throughout the years. That maybe after the great love story of your lives had turned into just another high school romance, you hadn’t been the only one to stop and ask yourself if maybe it really had been the love of your life, if maybe you had blown your chance of ever finding love like that again. 

You’d cursed him so often. After dates, after breakups, after watching rom-coms on your couch with your cat curled up in your lap and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream perched on your leg. Cursed him for ruining men for you so early on, for setting your standards too high, for going away back then, for never really coming back. 

Jake reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. He put it in front of you. You frowned. 

“Take off the case”, he urged. Your curiosity won, so you let go off your glass to peel off his phone case - plain black, but you hadn’t expected anything else. A piece of paper came free. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. When he nodded, you glanced back, dropping the case onto the bar top to unfold the paper. It was barely bigger than your hand and even though it looked torn at the edges, it must have been folded carefully after every time it had been looked at. 

You recognised your own scrawly handwriting the very moment you glanced at it, gasping up at Jake, who only grinned. 

This is your guardian angel, you’d written, in the middle of maths class one fateful day close to graduation, here to tell you to pay attention. You won’t be a very good pilot at all if you can’t concentrate on what you’re doing because you’re staring at me. 

So you’ll be up in the air with me?, he’d scrawled below that. 

Always, you’d scribbled. Even if you can’t see me. 

You could remember that day well, mainly because that morning he’d been accepted into USNPS, the first step on his way to chasing his dream. He’d pulled up to your house and you’d already been closing the door, but unlike usual he hadn’t stayed in his car, instead he’d come sprinting at you with the biggest grin and you’d already known what had happened just by looking at him, so you’d run at him at full speed, abandoning your schoolbag and jumping up into his arms, drawing him in and kissing the grin right off of his face. 

“You kept that?”, you asked with a laugh. 

“Of course”, he said. “I took it up with me the first time and came back in one piece. Haven’t flown a single time without it.” 

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. If you weren’t careful, you’d fall back into your old habit and keep at it until you drew blood, but... 

“So a piece of me has been up in the air with you every time”, you realised. 

“I couldn’t leave behind my guardian angel now, could I?” 

You felt a hot tear running down your cheek that you did your best to wipe away without letting him see. He’d not only kept one of your notes all these years (and you’d written each other a ton of those), he’d used it as a lucky charm - Jake, who’d never been religious, much less superstitious. He’d kept it, he’d kept it close to him for fifteen years, he’d taken it up in the air with him every single time. He’d made you a part of his dream even after you’d let him go. 

“I actually did write you a letter, you know”, you admitted, quietly, almost whispering. “I did even before they’d accepted you. I wanted to give it to you the day I had to kiss you goodbye at the airport. It said... it said that I had always known you’d do it and that I was sure you’d become the best of them all. That I was always right anyway so you could trust me. That I would always be there for you, no matter how far away you went. And that I’d... that I’d be there even when you were up in the air. I folded it so it’d fit in a pocket. So that you could carry it like a lucky charm even though I knew you didn’t believe in them.” 

He was smiling when you found the strength to look at him again. 

“Why didn’t you give it to me?”, he asked and for just a moment you thought you heard a kind of sadness in his tone. You shrugged. 

“We’d broken up. I didn’t want to make it harder for either of us.” 

He paused. You didn’t look away this time. The paper still between your fingers, a chorus of ‘He never forgot’ in your mind. 

“But you still came to say goodbye at the airport.” 

You took a deep breath. Yes - you had driven to the airport that day, had sprinted to the gate you’d known he was supposed to be at and tackled him just before he could go through security. That was the last time you’d seen him - waving at you as you sobbed, a smile on his lips that you knew he was only putting on to seem strong for you, before he disappeared into the gate and you realised just who you’d lost. 

“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye”, you admitted. “I had to see you one last time.” 

He raised his eyebrows. 

“And that didn’t make it harder?” 

“Only a bit”, you chuckled, pretending there weren’t tears dropping off your chin. “But it would’ve been worse if I’d had to live with the knowledge that I never got to properly say goodbye. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I mean, we all knew that you’d be successful and that you wouldn’t come back. What’s a little town in the middle of Texas got to offer a multi-million-dollar plane-flying naval aviator such as yourself?” 

You glanced from him back down to the paper in your hands, your own handwriting, and folded it carefully again. You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, not while you were living through the memories of two beautiful years and one horrible one to get over them. Maybe all this was pathetic - you’d thought so a lot of times before. Maybe it was pathetic that you were clinging on to a boy from high school, to someone you hadn’t seen in fifteen years, to someone you knew - and had always known - you simply did not have a future with. But every time you met someone else, every time you considered the possibility of settling down, of marriage and growing old, you had to think back and compare and god, Jake Seresin really had ruined your love life so very early on. He’d ruined dating for you once and for all. Your miserable attempts at hookups and boyfriends had always ended the same: with you waving goodbye because none of it felt good enough to be called love. None of it came close enough to him. 

Jake hooked his fingers under your chin and turned your face to his, his thumb brushing over your skin to wipe away your tears. You bit your lip, the weight of his eyes on yours enough to make your nerves run rampant. 

“What about my dream girl waiting back home?”, he asked quietly. 

You took a deep breath. Thoughts were racing through your mind at such a speed that you couldn’t grasp a single one - shreds of “dream girl” and “after all these years” and “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck”. A lot of that last one, really. With how close he was, those too-familiar eyes boring into yours and the feeling of his touch for what was the first time in a decade, you couldn’t even say you were surprised. 

“Dream girl?”, you repeated breathlessly, your voice hoarse to the point of breaking. You had half a mind to stay where you were (not that you could move a muscle). He smiled. 

“Dream girl.” 

Your brain short-circuited. 

This was better even than the wildest of scenarios you’d been imagining since you’d got the invite to the reunion - hell, this was better than what you’d been imagining over the past fifteen years. You’d pictured over and over what it would be like to see him again, to talk to him and to touch him again, and every time you had scolded yourself for doing so because it would never happen anyway. Now here you were. And Jake was more breath-taking, more overwhelming than ever, driving you to the edge of insanity with just his presence, a grown version of the boy you’d kept close to your heart all throughout your life, a man now who’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and he was telling you, you and no one else, after fifteen years, that you were his dream girl. That you were the only thing this whole town still had to offer, the only thing he was still missing. 

You had to close your eyes and take a shaky breath. 

“Jake”, you said quietly. “We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. You don’t even know who I am anymore.” 

His thumb kept brushing over your skin even after the tears had dried. 

“So let me get to know you again”, he muttered. 

You smiled. It was like he was plucking the - in themselves very few - doubts from your mind with such care that you felt fuzzy inside. You opened your eyes again to look at him, only to catch him still staring at you, lips curled in something between a genuine smile and a cheeky grin. 

“I went to college in California because I had to get away from home for a bit”, you started in a whisper. If he wanted to get to know you, he’d have to make do with the run down of your life for now. “Studied child care. Came back and got a job as a kindergarden teacher here. I got an apartment, I got a car, I got a cat. You know, just like I’d always said. It all worked out exactly like I’d planned.” 

Jake raised his eyebrows. His fingers had travelled from your chin to cup your jaw softly, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“So you’re living your dream”, he said. 

“I guess so.” 

“Impressive.” 

“Says you.” 

There was a pause - Jake was just looking at you again, smiling, but you didn’t feel like complaining. You never had, you certainly never would. He could spend the rest of his life looking at you if he wanted to. 

“Green still your favourite colour?”, he asked. You nodded. If it were anyone else, maybe you would’ve been surprised that they’d remembered but god, it was him, you would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t. He’d remembered every little detail about you back then, from the nail polish you had used to the sound of your father’s footsteps coming down the staircase. 

“Your mum’s hot chocolate still the only you’ll drink?” 

You nodded again. Your smile was quickly turning into a broad grin. 

“Do you still turn the volume all the way up when our song plays?” 

You swallowed. And nodded again. Your song - the one that had played in the background for your first kiss, for your last, for your first dance at prom, that time you’d baked in his kitchen, countless more when you’d been driving around in his truck. You had turned it up all the way whenever you’d heard it, no matter where or when. And Jake had pulled you close to him and started dancing with you, twirling you this way and that until you collapsed against his chest, smiling and laughing and kissing him. Even after he’d left, you had always turned up the volume, just now with no one to dance to it with. 

“So I do still know you”, he muttered. You paused to examine him. 

“And do I still know you?”, you asked, voice barely more than a breath. His thumb on your cheek stilled. Instead you felt him reach for your waist, tugging you closer, so close that you had to tilt your head back to keep looking at him. You felt your breath catch. 

“You’ll have to find out”, he drawled. 

“I’d like to”, you smiled. “I’d really like to. It’s just... How do we know it’s not gonna end like before again?” 

He was so close that you could kiss him now. He felt like home, all familiar and comfortable and cozy, like love and adventure and sparks in your stomach. He was real, he was here, right now, right there, right in front of you, touching you, talking to you. This wasn’t some fantasy - and that was why you were scared. 

It was all fun and games imagining it. Imagining that you’d meet him again and fall for him again and that you’d spend the rest of your life with him because he was the only man you’d ever truly love. But this, this was reality, this was the real world with all its obstacles and its difficulties. The problem was that you remembered like it was yesterday how you had broken up - why you had broken up. 

Afterwards you’d been sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat of his truck, letting your tears fall and drop onto your shirt, onto his shirt that you’d been wearing, staring out of the window at the sky and the scenery change, blankly for the very first time. You had been hugging yourself, arms wrapped around your torso, and the radio hadn’t been playing - the radio had always played. But not then. He had been driving in silence and you hadn’t said anything either and when he had pulled up in the driveway in front of your house, you had got out without another word and paused just before closing the door. 

“I love you, Jake”, you’d said. “I’ll never not love you.” 

And he’d said “I love you too. More than you’ll ever know” and then you had shut the door and not looked back at him once as you had walked up to the house, fumbled for your keys and sunken down into a puddle of human limbs in the hallway, sobbing and screaming and struggling for breath. 

“Because it was the wrong time back then”, he said now, holding you close to him. 

“And this is the right time?”, you asked. 

“We’ll have to find out”, he said. 

There was a certainty to his voice, a determination in his eyes that told you he wasn’t saying it lightly. Jake Seresin was never saying anything lightly. So despite your fear, you had to smile at him. 

“Kiss me”, you breathed. 

You didn’t have to think about it, didn’t have to ponder the what’s and if’s or any of the consequences. If there was one thing you knew about him, it was that when he did something, anything, he would come out a winner, because that was just what he did: win. Any situation, any challenges, any difficulties thrown at him. It was why you had always been able to trust him completely, to follow him blindly. Because Jake Seresin would never do something he wasn’t a hundred percent sure of. 

So when he pulled you close, when he leaned in, when your heart stopped beating for the moment that his eyes travelled to your lips, when you felt his breath on your skin, the last of your doubts faded away. And when his lips met yours, the last of your thoughts left right with them and your eyes fluttered shut. Because the kiss was soft and gentle, because neither of you moved for a second, because you were holding your breath in fear that this moment might be a dream after all, because he put an arm around your waist and held you close, because your hands found their way to his jaw, cupping his face, holding him there as firmly and as carefully as you could, as if not wanting to break him or maybe just not wanting to break the kiss. Because he tasted like mint and beer and vanilla somehow and because he smelled of sandalwood and spice and something so distinctly him. Because it was so familiar and so new at the same time. 

Because when he moved his lips against yours, when he deepened the kiss, your feet suddenly weren’t on the ground anymore, not anywhere near the earth, and if you had opened your eyes you probably would have seen heaven, but you didn’t because why would you have, why would you have with his arm around you and his hand holding your cheek and his lips on yours so perfectly. 

There were fireworks going off in your heart, butterflies going berserk in your tummy, warmth unfurling in every part of your body. 

He tasted of your very first kiss and your last and every single one in between that, of the memories of so many: your legs wrapped around his waist, waves crashing against your bodies, friends cheering from the beach; your arms around his neck, the hood of his jacket, too big for you anyway, pulled over your head, snowflakes catching on your nose; his fingers skipping over your cheek, pulling you close to him, rain dripping against the umbrella he was holding over the two of you; the warmth of his sweater and a cup of tea, sitting cross-legged on his windowsill, his lips barely ghosting over yours, quickly, softly, as to not disturb your stargazing. 

When he pulled back, you were tempted to chase after him for another kiss, but instead you just smiled at him. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed, thumb still brushing over your cheek. 

“I waited so long for that”, he muttered. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. 

“No longer than I have”, you chuckled. You were still a little breathless and a lot emotional. He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit to look at you, the ghost of a grin dancing across his lips. 

“No”, he admitted. “Probably not.” 

You wanted nothing more than to bathe in this feeling of joy, of bliss, of finally being back home, but... 

“Jake”, you whispered. “Why did you never come see me? You visited your parents at least once a year for Christmas. Why now?” 

He pulled away from you, drawing his arm back and his hand from your jaw, and you felt horribly lonely at once, like you’d made some irreversible mistake and hurt him deeply. He grabbed the neck of his beer bottle and took a sip. Your teeth found your bottom lip again and you reached for your long abandoned whiskey glass, fingertips skimming over the rim as you watched him from the side. Eventually, he let out a chuckle and shrugged. 

“I was scared”, he said quietly. You raised your eyebrows. 

“Scared?”, you repeated. You couldn’t believe that any word related to fear was rolling off his tongue. Jake Seresin was never scared. He simply didn’t do fear. “You? That can’t be.” 

He laughed then and looked back up at you and you felt yourself smile, relieved that you didn’t seem to have hurt him after all. 

“It’s true. Sadly.” 

You grinned and shook your head, still in shock that not only he’d been afraid at all, but that he was admitting it - to you, to himself. He really must have grown a lot over the years. 

“So why now, all of a sudden?”, you asked. 

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in your expression, thinking about your question and how to answer it or thinking about if to answer it at all, you didn’t know. 

“I flew a mission two months ago.” He’d gone serious. “A few of us almost didn’t come back. Makes you think about your priorities in life.” 

You couldn’t help the lump in your throat or the way your fingers stilled. You’d always tried to ignore just how dangerous his job actually was, what was on the line every time he started the plane. Once you’d asked him about it, about why he would purposefully put himself at risk like that, and he’d looked at you in earnest and asked you if you would not do the same for your dream, if you would decide any different, decide to keep yourself safe with no concern for the children in your care. You’d smiled and kissed him instead of giving him an answer. It had been obvious enough. 

“So... you’ve been rethinking priorities?”, you asked carefully. 

Priorities. That one word had held so much power all those years ago. It had been the reason he’d left, the reason you’d stayed, the reason you’d let him leave, the reason he’d let you stay. Priorities. Over a decade later and it was still haunting you. You’d done your own fair share of thinking about it. 

“You haven’t?”, he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. You had to smile as well, shaking your head slightly as you chuckled. 

“I have.” 

He raised his eyebrows as if to say I told you so. 

“You really think we can do this”, you realised, somehow not surprised. Jake just didn’t take unnecessary risks. He nodded. 

“I do.” 

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years that you’d spent without him, without anything - no calls, no texts, no nothing. But here he was and despite what should be logical and reasonable and what you should probably do, you knew that you’d still do anything he asked. If he was serious about this, you would be too. If he thought you could manage it, then you would manage it. 

“How long are you gonna be here?”, you asked. He chuckled. 

“Two weeks.” 

“Already got a place to stay?” 

He raised his eyebrows at that, amusement apparent in his expression, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Not necessarily.” 

“Alright”, you said, trying your hardest not to look too cheeky. “How would you like a cozy little apartment with absolutely no room service but a fully functioning kitchen and a very cute alarm at 3am every night called my cat?”

Jake smiled. 

“Sounds lovely.” 

“You’re saying that now”, you snorted. “Wait ‘till you get punched in the face by one too-big possum.” 

“Sounds very lovely.” 

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your whiskey - it was almost empty by now and the clock read half past eleven. Was it acceptable to leave already? You’d talked to most everybody you’d wanted to catch up with so far, exchanged numbers with everyone you wanted to keep in touch with. There was nothing really keeping you here. 

“Do you...” You bit your lip, suddenly shy for some reason. Maybe it’d been too long to still feel confident when suggesting something like this. “Do you want to get out?” 

His grin deepened, turned smug, and he raised his eyebrows, emptying his beer at once. 

“I hear there’s an apartment waiting for me”, he said. 

“And a demon possum”, you reminded with a laugh. 

“Not to forget.” 

Silence fell, comfortable, only for a second. He was here and he was real and he had kissed you and you were taking him home. Taking him home because maybe this time it would last. Because you felt fifteen years younger with him, like a girl in her last year of high school. Because you wanted all that again, everything that since then you had only read of in romance novels and watched on screens. That “love of my life”, that “once in a lifetime”, that “heaven on earth”. Maybe you were stupidly optimistic. Maybe you remembered it all through rose-coloured glasses and the perception of a teenage girl. 

But maybe it would be even better. Maybe this time it really would last. Maybe you had, in fact, both rethought priorities. Maybe you had both come to the same conclusion. Maybe this time, love would play just as important of a role for your futures as your careers had back then. Maybe what Jake said was true - maybe this was the right time.

“I’ve got my truck parked outside”, he said, putting the beer bottle down on the bar top. 

“The same old truck?”, you asked. That truck had been through a lot with the two of you. You’d been through a lot with that truck. You couldn’t believe it still existed. 

“Same old truck”, he nodded. You shook your head as you grinned at him. You’d had your first kiss there, you’d said your first I love you’s there - you’d said your last there too. 

So you puzzled his phone back together, held it out to him and drawled:

“Then take me for a ride, cowboy.” 

#top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader

[moon-alight]

Hello admin! I hope all is well:D

I was wondering if I can request an &team maknae line recation to prom dress shopping with there s/o?

Thank you so much if you can fulfill this request,if not I totally understand ❤️

HAPPY NEW YEAR! My blog exists a whole year now and I'm back! I hope to post every now and then so leave asks in my inbox! (Also, I have done all members 😘)

General Masterlist

&Team Masterlist

&Team shopping prom-dresses with their s/o

Warnings: fluff (reader is female)

Word Count: 899 words

-K

-You mentioned you'd be going to shop for your prom dress and he overheard this. Kei decided he wanted to come along just to help you carry your bags lol.

-Walking from store to store, he did not seem to get impatient at all and almost had as much fun as you did. There was a constant smile on his face and he looked intrigued every time you held up a dress.

-Offered to pay for the dress that made your eyes sparkle because he knew you'd look so so pretty in it.

-He would be complimenting you every second as well and just enjoyed spending time with you.

-Fuma

-My man is solemly there to support you because he knows how much you look forward to prom.

-Whenever you hold up a dress he tells you how much he likes it even if it is the ugliest dress on Earth.

-To him you look good in everything and even the ugliest pieces of fabric can become artworks when you wear it. He is such a cutie.

-He does laugh at your excitement because he just gets internally happy whenever you are happy

-Unlike Kei, he does not offer to pay he just does. This man would shove you out of the way to pay for your dress lol

-Nicholas

-This man has the time of his life looking through the many dresses and imagining you wearing each and every one of them.

-Enjoys to hear you rattle about what kinds of fabric and style you're looking for and will interpret your wishes as he helps you look.

-Deadass gets pouty if you don't like one of the dresses he picked because he really liked it.

-Almost falls of his chair when you come out in the one but manages to catch his balance last moment.

-EJ

-Idiot treats this shopping spree as though you were looking for a wedding dress instead of a prom dress.

-Likes to keep his options open and comes along just to see what color you will be wearing so he can get a suit to match.

-Does not understand anything you say when you describe the pattern or style you wish to wear but nods as though he does.

-Enjoys matching jewelry with the dress you choose just so everything about you can sparkle at prom.

-Yuma

-Complains that you had dragged him down towards the mall because he really did not want to come.

-Once he's there and sees how excited you are, he calms down and just follows you around like a lost puppy for a while until he finds the excitement inside of himself.

-Once he sees a dress he loves he would constantly comment it to make you notice it. He would never outright say that he wants you to wear that dress but he would make it very known.

-Disappointed if you choose a different dress but comes around when you show it off because you're right, that one does compliment all your curves perfectly.

-Jo

-He comes along but kind of forgets why he's there and keeps wandering off to different directions to which you have to pull him back because he keeps getting distracted.

-Does actually not care what dress you choose. You could be showing up in a carton box and you'd still be the prettiest to him so he just kind of wanders behind you.

-Whenever you ask his opinion on something his answer would always be the same: "You look so pretty in it, sweetie."

-He is actually happy when you get your dress so you two can enjoy some ice cream lol.

-Harua

-MY MAN! The price for the guy who has the most fun dress shopping with you goes to Harua!

-He had looked up different dresses on pinterest and made an entire mood board with them so he knew what to look for.

-He drags you down the aisles and points at the dresses he likes. To your surprise they are actually really cute too.

-Would be so so happy if you choose one he had picked out for you. You'd be attacked by hugs and kisses hehe.

-Taki

-He is the second most excited to go dress shopping with you. Not because he likes this so much but because you trusted him enough to come with you and to ask his opinions.

-Carefully contemplates every choice as he does not want to disappoint you. He is the most helpful out of all &Team members.

-Honestly reviews each dress until he comes across one he just cannot say anything bad about because it is simply perfect.

-Treats you to Starbucks or anything you like to drink afterwards because he believes you two made a great choice together. And you did!

-Maki

-He is so unserious lmao! Agreed to come with you but honestly, you regret asking him very quickly because he points out the most ugly ass dresses in the world.

-Will constantly compliment you though but don't be fooled, he'd tease you every chance he gets as well.

-Remember Nicholas almost falling? Yeah, well, Maki actually falls off his chair when you walk out wearing the most beautiful dress. His mind changed about the whole dress shopping because he is glad he came along.

-Cannot wait for prom because he'd be able to dance with you all night.

#&team #&team drabbles #&team scenarios #&team imagines #&team fluff #&team headcanons #&team nicholas #&team k #&team ej #&team fuma #&team jo #&team yuma #&team taki #&team harua #&team maki

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

MASTERLIST

A problem happened with my old masterless and I had to make a new one

* = smut

The masterlist will be updated every two weeks

MCU!PETER PARKER

Boxing lessons Stark!Reader

Tony asks Peter to gives you boxing lessons. Little did they know, you are not as defenseless as they thought

The forbidden Avenger Stark!Reader

It’s difficult to have alone time with Peter at the Avengers compound. When everyone goes away on a mission, you take invite Peter over and act on your feelings

I could never give you peace

Peter laments the lack of stability he can offer his lover and the danger his other identity puts her in (inspired by Peace by Taylor Swift)

I’ll always come back to you Stark!Reader

Peter returns after the blip

I’ll keep you safe Stark!Reader

You look out for Peter during the battle with Molten Man

Late nights sneaking in your bed Hogan!Reader

When Peter and May temporarily move in with you and Happy, you go against your dad’s rules and sneak Peter into your room at night

Maybe this trip wasn’t so bad

You and Peter sneak out for a date during the Europe trip

My baby’s fit like a daydream

Peter gets a new body from training with the Avengers. You like it - a lot

My friends gets annoyed by how much I talk about you

You talk about Peter to your friends a little too much

Now I wake up by your side

You found your way back to Peter after the memory spell

Spider kiss

Peter surprised you at your window

Uncharted territories *

You and Peter explore each other’s bodies while May is out

Want some help? *

Peter gets a little excited after training. You offer your help

What am I supposed to do if there’s no you

May dies. You find Peter on the school’s roof and comfort him

Wherever you stray, I follow

Happy go get Peter in the Netherlands and you play nurse

TOM HOLLAND

King of my heart (multi-part) Co-Star!Reader

You get the role of MJ for the new Spiderman movie…aka, the classic trope of co-stars falling for each other

King of social media

Tom makes a mistake and post a private video on his Instagram Story

Puppy pictures

You accidentally send Tom NSFW pictures while he’s at work

Surprise Spider!

You surprise Tom at a convention and dress up as Black Cat

That’s my man

Tom flashes his pants-less bottom half on live TV

Tom’s new girl

Tom has a surprise for you when you come home

JESS MARIANO

Do you want to build a snowman?

You convince Jess to partake in Stars Hollow winter festival activities

Follow your heart

You pay Jess a visit after Luke puts him on a bus to New York. A few weeks later, it’s Jess’ turn to visit you

Guiding Star

Jess gets a tattoo

I’d marry you with paper rings

From the day you met to your wedding day (inspired by Paper Rings by Taylor Swift)

Night visitor

Jess pays you a little visit in the middle of the night

Prom?

Jess tells you he won’t be graduating…but he still goes to prom

Silent breakup | part 1 | part 2

Part 1: Jess breaks up with you by leaving town

Part 2: Your boyfriend of three years get down on one knee, but there’s someone else on your mind

Part 3:  After some thinking, you drive up to Philadelphia to see Jess

STILES STILINSKI

A dream within a dream

Stiles has a nightmare

A weekend in Quantico

You surprise Stiles and visit him in Quantico

An easy nightmare remedy

Stiles still has nightmares after the Nogitsune possess him. You offer your help

I only bought this dress so you could take it off

You confess your feelings to Stiles

My MVP

You come to Stiles’ game…and they lose

RAFE CAMERON

He should’ve been here

Rafe doesn’t show up on your birthday

My best friend’s brother (multi-part) *

You go on a boat trip with the Camerons…and get a little more than what you came for

Summer loving

You and rafe have a summer fling. You get attached

JJ MAYBANK

Don’t die on me

You and JJ fight against the captain. JJ falls over and almost dies

Father, dear father

JJ always sees his dad when he least expects it

Hot tempered, but loyal

JJ got fired from his job (set after the scene we got on ig)

I don’t want perfect

You get a new boyfriend, the perfect boyfriend. But you don’t want perfect

Simp

JJ is in love and the Pogues like to tease him

They’re alive

The Pogues gets a message from an unknown number: John B and Sarah are alive

The yard boy | Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Part six (coming soon)

DAEMON TARGARYEN

His wife’s bed *

Illicit affair *

A Song of heart and blood (multi-part) *

After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Taking care of my dragon

After getting his pride hurt at the tourney, Daemon needs help to calm down and unwind

Warm me up

AEMOND TARGARYEN

Bigger than the whole sky

TW: Miscarriage

False god *

Naughty dreams | Jacaerys twin!Reader *

Midnight rain

JON SNOW

I’ll keep your bed warm

Need a hand?

What happens in the cave, stays in the cave |  Jeor Mormont daughter!Reader *

You and Jon spend the night in a cave

XAVIER THORPE

The devil’s bite Addams!Reader

The night of the final battle, you get hurt by the hyde

I don’t want you like a best friend

You and Xavier have been best friends for a while, but you don’t want to be just friends anymore. Come the Rave’n dance, you decide to tell him

Jealousy, jealousy

Murder Mittens

Nightshades library *

Outreach day | Normie!Reader

Post Poe Cup

Sorry, wrong number | Xavier x Reader x Ajax *

After sending a nude to the wrong contact (your mistake), you and Xavier invite Ajax for one night

Wrong suspect

Because of Wednesday, everyone believes Xavier is the monster. Everyone except you.

AJAX PETROPOLUS

7 Minutes in heaven 

Poe Cup distractions *

First time 

Makeup

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen #jess mariano #stiles stilinski #jon snow #jj maybank #rafe cameron #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #rafe cameron x reader #spider-man #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker imagine

[captainsimagines]

pretty woman, this is me trying || ten

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(10/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: explicit language; oral sex; past references to SA

Word Count: 3,070+

~

     You hadn’t been shopping in such a long time. Sure, whenever one of your online dates told you the attire was formal or business casual, you’d go out and buy the one thing that would complete the outfit. A sweater, a necklace, heels. This, however, was a different ordeal.

You needed a new dress, preferably one of holiday color, and accessories to go with it. You debated skipping the most expensive store on the block because of your wild imagination concocting a scene of you, a pretty woman, being thrown out. It had never happened before and it certainly wouldn’t happen now, especially in today’s climate.

Still, you were trying to find a reason not to spend money in that store.

Because the red dress on display was absolutely the dress of your dreams.

“Oh, shoot. I was going to buy that.”

You turned to the woman who had crept up beside you—the spy who had crept up beside you. “Sucks.”

Natasha’s smile split into a comical, incredulous one. Pure, unlike anything you’ve seen on the former Russian spy. “And the bite has come out.”

You rolled your eyes. “You Avengers have been pissing me off lately. In particular, the blond hunk.”

“He is a blond hunk, huh?”

“He may piss me off, but I won’t ignore the fact that he’s handsome.”

She nodded, agreeing. “So, you going to get the dress?”

“My bank account says no but my heart yearns.”

Natasha chuckled, going to catch the door as someone exited. She motioned at you to enter. You obliged, realizing there was no turning back now. The dress had you by the throat.

“I’ll be looking in the back for mine. Meet me in the dressing rooms when you’re ready,” she told you, walking to the back of the store like she owned the place. And perhaps she did, considering about five different women dropped what they were originally focused on to assist her.

“Can I help you?” one of the attendants asked, her glasses slipping down her nose.

“Could I try on that dress that’s on the mannequin?” you smiled shyly, telling her your dress size afterward. She scurried away, allowing you to find comfort on one of the giant sofas they had for customers.

The dresses all varied by occasion. Some looked like prom dresses, others more formal, some even resembling wedding dresses. The last time you had visited a place like this was for your fourth date ever, and Lainey had chosen all your dresses for you. Even offered to split the bill on your favorite. You had chosen a gorgeous, blue silk dress that had ended up ripped on your date’s floor by the end of the night. Lainey had only laughed, stitching it up after you got home. It’s still hanging at the back of your closet.

You debated wearing that one, but it wasn’t holiday appropriate. Maybe with some long, white gloves and diamonds. But this red dress was more festive, more relevant.

“Here you are!” the attendant announced, carrying the dress in her arms. “Third door on your left. I’ll be over there in a second.”

You took the dress from her, marveling at the velvet fabric. Perfect for the weather, too.

Locking yourself into one of the dressing rooms, you put the dress on as slowly as possible as to not accidentally rip a thread. The minute everything was where it was supposed to be, you slipped on the heels you brought with you, balancing on the wall for a second.

Lainey would have stolen this dress from you, absolutely.

It hugged you perfectly. The soft velvet brushed against your skin flawlessly, no itch and no weird folds. It was warm enough that it would keep you warm inside the compound. The dress had long sleeves ending in a diamond shape, as did the collar. When it reached your hips, the fabric loosened and draped down your legs. Non-suffocating, breezy, and exactly your size. You turned to see the back, eyes widening at how good your ass looked.

You accepted the compliments from the attendant, blushing as her praise started getting louder and louder. Then Natasha rounded the corner, and blew your breath away.

“You look so pretty,” you said honestly.

Natasha blushed pink, smoothing down the fabric at her stomach. Her dress also had sleeves, but they were flowing instead of tight like yours. Like one of those Renaissance dresses. A small voice in your head said you two should switch.

But the Black Widow, even if black and red were her colors, looked more… Real, in blue.

“I’ve never been called pretty in my life.”

You blinked at her. “What?”

“It’s always gorgeous or beautiful. Never pretty,” she said. Then, with a hint of a smile, “I like it better.”

“Well, blue looks really good on you.”

“And red looks amazing on you,” she complimented. You twirled in a tiny circle, earning a chuckle from her. The two of you met in front of the same mirror, modeling the dresses from all angles. Like two best friends on a shopping spree.

A sudden wave of nostalgia washed over you, lighting your heart on fire. In that moment, the realization hit.

You had been so lonely. You are so lonely. Natasha wasn’t even on a friend basis with you, possibly not ever, and yet this felt natural. A much needed feeling. A feeling your soul had been craving since Lainey died.

“It might not be my place, but I am an expert at sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

You snorted, “Honestly, same.”

“What did you do to make him feel… safe again?” she asked, her face honest.

“What do you mean?”

Then, while looking at her feet in the mirror, she admitted, “He carried me out.”

“You mean, the other day?”

“He dug me out and carried me to the plane. All the way. For more than just a few seconds.”

Bucky hadn’t mentioned that the other day. And if what she was saying is true, Bucky had accomplished something massive. He was comfortable touching you, sure, but touching other people? You hadn’t explored those experiments yet. You always assumed you’d get a willing participant to practice with you two. Not in a sexual way, of course.

Just… Having Bucky learn how to shake someone else’s hand other than yours.

You shrugged, flustered. “I haven’t done much.”

Natasha scoffed softly, “Sure. He used to cry when our hands brushed during training.” Then, “And he’s smiling more. Yesterday he stayed and had a whole conversation with Clint while he was polishing his bows.”

He was accomplishing all this on his own. Joy and pride encased your heart, warming it a few degrees.

“Bucky just wants peace. The feel of it. Fuzzy blankets, cinnamon, greenery.”

“Yeah, but there’s more to it.”

You didn’t have a response that didn’t directly incriminate Bucky and your naughty time spent together, so you simply nodded.

“So, what would you recommend I do to strengthen our friendship?”

You didn’t know if she was asking for herself, or for a certain blonde Captain.

“He likes jokes. But only when it’s obvious that they’re jokes.”

Her smirk grew as she realized what you meant. “I have to work on being less serious.”

“Try being more open.”

She clicked her tongue, “Difficult, but possible.”

She turned back toward the dressing rooms, giving a quick jut of the head toward the attendant that said she was buying the dress.

Natasha gently called over a shoulder, “Get the dress. Trust me. I hope to see you Saturday.”

~

    The one thing you didn’t expect to happen when you walked into Bucky’s apartment was to have him catapult off the couch, nearly tripping over Axel, and smashing a rough kiss to your mouth.

You immediately responded, opening your mouth as you tilted your head, swallowing his sounds of greed. You initially believed that after kissing you once, it would take a lot for him to kiss you again. More steps in between. But Bucky kissed you like he had been kissing you for eighty plus years, since the 40s, since your souls were nothing but specks in the universe.

“I want to taste you,” he sighed, moving you backward until your back hit the wall. You moaned at the impact, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. You didn’t pull, you didn’t brush your fingers against the base of his neck. Your touch was careful, calculated. You thanked whatever entity that allowed you to keep your common sense during a time like this.

Bucky received your touch with gentle moans here and there, his hands grasping at your clothing, as if desperate to tear them off. He stripped your heavy layers one by one, asking you each time he moved on to the next. And everytime you responded with an eager yes, nodding like mad and hoping he’d let you remove his layers as well. He stripped himself of his shirt, answering your siren call of a moan, and paused before he went back to attacking your neck. You took him in for the first time, studying his muscles and his permanent marks. The story of his life, written in his skin.

“I want to taste you,” he repeated, his blush spreading to his collarbones.

“Do you mean—?”

“Yes.”

You whimpered in response, going to grab his shoulders. But Bucky scooped you up, maneuvered your legs around his waist, and walked you to his bedroom. He kicked the door closed on Axel, the dog’s grumble of annoyance falling on deaf ears.

Laying you on the edge of his bed, Bucky kneeled before you. He dragged you forward, spreading your legs until he could fit in between. He looked calm, in tune with his body, almost in a trance.

“You with me?” you checked, swiping a strand of hair from his forehead.

He kissed a trail from your inner knee to mid-thigh, breathing faster. “I’m trying to go slow.”

“Do you need to stop?”

He groaned, his tongue poking out to lick a line against your soft skin. “I’m trying really hard to go slow because I can’t promise I won’t completely devour you. Half of me wants to taste you and bury my face in your warm pussy, while the other half wants to plunge my cock into you over and over until you come with a scream so loud everyone in the compound hears.”

Your breath stuttered, the suddenness of it actually hurting your chest. “No half wants to stop?”

He chuckled against you, his hot breath fanning your clothed center. “Fuck, no.”

It wasn’t an invitation to suddenly ignore his signs. If he started to turn his shoulders inward, if his face suddenly went blank, or tears started to fall, you had to notice. You had to be aware that these things could still happen. Being verbal was perhaps the best thing that Bucky could be. You just didn’t think it would translate into some of the most toe-curling dirty talk you had ever heard.

His fingers dipped into the waistband of your underwear, a pair you had purposely chosen with care this morning. You doubted Bucky cared what underwear you wore, or if you wore any at all. He snapped his glossy eyes up, swallowing in anticipation. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

He took them off quickly, careful not to tangle your toes within the fabric. He spread your legs even wider and threw your legs over his shoulders. “Talk to me while I do this, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, instantly cut off by your own moan as Bucky’s lips met your wet ones. He sucked, sinking in the feeling, starting off neutral. Then an experimental swipe of his tongue had you writhing awkwardly.

“Like that,” you moaned, clutching at the bedsheets. For this first time until you talked about it, you’d grab at anything besides his hair. Roughness was not what he needed. “Just like that!”

His mouth closed over your clit, nearly sending you from his strong grip.

“When you’re alone,” he started, licking one long swipe up. “Have you ever tasted yourself?”

You whimpered, “Of course I have. I bet you’re picturing it.”

“Bring your hand over here.”

You lifted your left, letting him guide it to your lower half. He moved your fingers through the wetness. “Touch yourself for me.”

You wanted nothing more than his lips back on you. But being watched as you pleasured yourself was an undeniable weakness, twisting something in your stomach to near completion. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, shining on your chest. By all accounts, you looked amazing. You were still wearing your bra, but you figured Bucky would remove it if he wanted to. Knowing how good you looked encouraged your greedy hands, however. You moved your fingers the same way you did whenever you were alone, flicking at special corners and pinching your clit when needed. For a second, you forgot that Bucky had every intention of finishing you off himself.

You lifted your head, your legs still splayed over his shoulders, and saw him watching your moving hand. Eyebrows scrunched, seemingly concentrated, marveling at what was laid out before him. Studying. Taking notes for later.

Then you saw his flesh arm moving, back and forth, the endgame hidden from your view. You groaned, simply imagining what his cock must look like, and prayed that after he got you off he would let you put his cock in your mouth.

“Do you like watching me fuck myself, Bucky?” Your voice was tastefully clipped, higher than usual.

A muscle in his jaw clenched at the same time his hand did something delectable to himself. He closed his eyes softly, sucking in a long breath.

“I fucking love it.” Then, “How badly do you want to come?”

You rubbed your clit faster, your legs threatening to close. Bucky noticed this, his dark chuckle enough of an answer. “I want to come so bad.”

“How badly do you want my cock?”

You licked your lips, hoping he would understand the secret, but painfully obvious message you were trying to relay.

“I want you so badly,” you admitted, looking him directly in the eyes. Those beautiful, glossy blue eyes. “I want you to pleasure me for hours, and when you’re close, I want you to come inside me. I want you to look at me as you come.”

He moved you so quickly you barely registered being shoved up the bed. Your legs were still balanced on his strong shoulders, but you were bent in half. Your feet dangled in the air as Bucky devoured you once again, sucking and licking like a professional. You screamed as the delicious feeling washed over you, making your thighs vibrate. You threw your head back, screaming Bucky’s name with as much delight as you could muster. Anything to let him know he finished and did a good job.

Once the feeling dwindled to fogginess, Bucky lowered your legs onto the mattress. He immediately clutched at his clothed cock, his face contorting with discomfort.

“Can I?” you asked, licking your lips again.

Bucky hesitated, looking from you to his lower half. After a few teasing seconds, Bucky nodded. He moved to lay on his back, eyeing you as you moved to hover him.

“This okay?”

Bucky gulped a breath, but didn’t throw you off. You shimmied down until your face was in front of his cock, then another nod of his head gave you the permission to lower his sweatpants.

You knew he was massive, but you had painted a very dull picture in your head. Cocks weren’t inherently pretty, but his was. The same color of his toned stomach, veins curving around the girth, and a pretty pink tip. Though, by how close he was, the tip was redder than ever.

“Ready?” you said, wrapping a warm and steady around him. His hips shot off the mattress, but his hands remained at his sides. Clutching at the sheets similar to how you did. He clenched his eyes shut, baring his naked throat at you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his mouth parting. “Yes, please.”

“Well, because you asked so nicely.”

That invisible entity you had been praying to received another blessed praise the moment you tasted him. Not too salty, clean, and just the right amount of pre-come.

You worked him up and down, swallowing as much as you were able, using your fist for what you couldn’t fit. When you traveled up, you made sure to lick his dripping slit, to suck his tip like the expert you were.

Bucky wasn’t silent. Nowhere close to it. He panted and groaned with every suck, whined when your saliva began to drip from the corners of your mouth, and practically screamed when you clenched your throat.  

“Where do you want to come?”

Bucky answered quickly, “Not on your face. Never on your face.”

You refused to dwell on that comment. You moved off him and laid back down, letting him climb back on top of you to finish himself off. He worked his cock until his stomach clenched, then he spilled onto your stomach and lower half. He gripped the headboard with his metal hand, splintering the wood.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. When he was sober and neutral, he had a certain wonder attached to his presence. When he was flustered and drunk with pleasure, he had a carnal and divine look to him. Jaw falling slack, hooded eyes, those angelic strands of loose hair framing his soft cheeks.

It was safe to say, as Bucky Barnes unleashed himself upon your skin and in turn showed you his most vulnerable side, you felt as if you would die for him.

He fell beside you, chuckling as the lavender haze overtook him as well. “Let’s do that again.”

You went to eagerly accept, but a voice interrupted, cutting through the moment.

“I’ve taken the liberty of making your walls extra soundproof, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Was that God?” you asked, sitting up as you inspected the ceiling.

Bucky rubbed a hand down his face. “Don’t give Jarvis a complex.”

“Too late, Sergeant Barnes. Have a delightful second round.”

~

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes x y/n #captainsimagines #by Moni #pretty woman au #holiday fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes smut

[anasdaughterrr]

i’ve been on this new account for a bit so here’s my motivation for reaching my gw:

•skinny thighs that look good in any sort of skirt or pants and that don’t rub together and chafe in the summertime

•feeling cleaner

•having people notice the change

•have people treat me nicer

•more attention from friends and family

•instead of my relatives commenting on how much i’m eating, they will comment on how skinny i’m looking

•i won’t ever be afraid to meet someone new in fear that their fist impression of me is that i’m fat. Instead, they’ll think “wow this girl is super pretty AND funny?”

•being the tiny friend for once in my life

•being able to finally fit the aesthetic that I want

•being able to finally take cute instagram pics

•less scared to post on social media

•i perform in musical theater, so i won’t have to worry about costumes looking bad on me

•no matter what angle someone takes a pic of me, it’ll look good

•applying my makeup will be easier because i won’t feel like i’m putting lipstick on a pig

•i will be more confident and therefore more sociable and happy (i know this from previous weight loss experience)

• dress shopping for formal events will actually be fun and not humiliating

•if the subject of weight ever comes up, i don’t have to be afraid of saying my weight out loud because i’ll be proud of it

•revenge on all the girls that called me fat

•less area to shave, apply lotion on, apply sunscreen on, and less area to wash.

•i overall won’t feel like a giant and like i’m taking up so much space whether it’s on chairs, couches, in a cramped room, etc. (i’m really tall and being tall and fat is like the worst combo because i just feel like an ogre)

• opening tumblr and not feeling guilty but instead feeling accomplished

•old teachers/ students from school looking at me and going “omg i didn’t even recognize you!” (i have had this happen before and it’s the best feeling in the world)

•sitting on my bf’s lap without feeling like i’m crushing him (as much as he claims he likes it i don’t like feeling fat)

•i’m getting older and when i get married i want my husband to be able to bridal carry me

•^^ also wedding dress NEEDS to look good on me or the wedding is cancelled

•i honestly grew up fat (before i lost a ton of weight and then gained it all back 🙄) and i really don’t want to spend the rest of my life chubby or midsized or fat. I just wanna enjoy the slim life.

•i’m very very focused on my looks and I really like when I look good.

•I want a slim face with the sunken-in look and hood cheekbones

•basically any clothes would be oversized

•most of my social anxiety would go away because I wouldn’t be focused on people thinking i’m fat

• i could share clothes with my sister (she’s super tall and skinny and has adorable clothes)

•impress my boyfriend’s family and HIS relatives (best feeling)

• i know this might sound odd but when i lost weight the first time my feet?? got smaller??? and so did my nose???? and my boobs??? all things that i would love to shrink.

•no more flabby arms that I have to hide under a cardigan or sweatshirt

•I was really athletic when i lost a bunch of weight the first time???? and i never worked out for it or did it in a healthy way so idk why i was all of a sudden super athletic but I was

•i always dreamed of being an ice skater and they’re so weightless and thin and beautiful

•halloween costumes could be so much better on my thin body instead of finding one that covers up the most fat

•prom dress looks good (i’m graduated by my bf is a senior this year and he’s taking me to prom)

• i was just more likable when i was skinny. Idk how to describe it

•believe it or not, people talk about you more when you lose weight. I was a total nobody in high school until i lost weight and then people who i didn’t even know we’re like talking about me in good ways and saying good things about me

•more friends. I know that friendship is mostly about the personality, but there are so many bitchy skinny girls with like 100 friends that all go out and do stuff together and even if they’re fake friends they’re better than no friends 🥲

• christmas and winter season in general

•imagine wearing an oversized outfit in the summer time and then whipping out the absolute perfect bikini body? goals.

that’s all for now, but i’m sure i’ll think of some more!

#an0 #an0r3c1a #an0rec1a #tw ana trigger #tw disordered eating #wl #4norexi4 #disordered eating thoughts #th!n$po #th1nsp1ration

[lexa-griffins]

I’m poorly with both Tietze syndrome or potentially (more likely) rheumatoid arthritis in the chest (drs yet to determine it yet) and got a cough which definitely not helping my pain. I was wondering, i know you do your horny hour or sun Sunday but if could I have a special request of farm clexa with ranya to soothe my soul? Angst or soft fluff I don’t mind but only if you don’t mind of course you are the talented creator of this au.

Oh no!! That sucks 😓 well i hope this little headcanon soothes your soul ☺️

Raven and Anya meet for the very first time at Clarke and Lexa's wedding.

Anya is one of Lexa's third distant cousins, living in the closest city to their little town. She used to come and visit her cousin once in a while, but the small town life was never for her, so she rarely stayed longer than a week. Raven, on the other hand, was born and raised in this small town, and she has no plan to leave. She's fresh out of high school and works in Jake's auto shop, been working there since she was sixteen alongside Clarke and Jake as told her if she keeps it up he'll gladly leave the shop for her to run in a couple of years.

The wedding is very sweet and intimate, of course. At 19, Lexa and Clarke couldn't even afford wedding bands, Lexa's dress is a thrift shop old prom dress find she altered by herself, and Clarke's jumpsuit is a generic one from a store with her dad's white blazer on top. None the less, they are over the moon in love with one another, their now better looking farm decorated with fairy lights and candles in jars, full of flowers and drapped fabric to make it more wedding like. As some guests dance and others lively talk with each other, Lexa and Clarke are twirling with each other, completely unaware of the world around them.

Until Lexa catches Anya approaching Raven with a drink, her usually not talkative cousin suddenly all smiles and full of words to share with Clarke's oldest friend.

"Love?"

Clarke barely registers anything that isn't Lexa in her arms, looking lovingly at her wife "Yes Mrs Griffin?"

Lexa smiles brightly at her title and gives Clarke a kiss that prolongs for just a little longer before she rememebers what she called Clarke's attention for, "Hmm, look at Anya and Raven."

Clarke doesn't. She just stares at Lexa with a loving smile on her face.

"Love, look." She tells her again and this forces her eyes away from her wife to look at them.

Her eyebrow shot to her hairline. "Is Anya smiling?"

"She is! Its.... bizarre. Raven seems to be enjoying the conversation tho."

In their sits, Raven and Anya keep on talking, big smiles on their faces as they seem to poke at each other as they eat their cake.

"Next year your cousin will be fully settled in town."

Lexa rolls her eyes at her wife, "Please, Anya would rather walk into traffic than move to such a small town."

Clarke shrugs, confident in her assumption, "She might find something she loves here. Love makes you do some weird things."

Lexa chuckles at her wife’s romance idealism. A strand of hair falls from Clarke's braided crown and Lexa tucks it back behind her ear softly, before pressing their foreheads together "Like what?"

"Hm.... Like this!" Clarke exclaims as she pulls Lexa off her feet and spins her around the dance floor in fit of giggles, their guesys turning to see the young newlyweds happily showing their love. Clarke holds Lexa up for a minite as they kiss, only breaking away when Raven throws them a loud "GET A ROOM" that makes the guests laugh. When Lexa and Clarke turn to her to give her the finger, they find Anya lovingly staring at her before finding herself being caught by her cousin and her wife, hisding away her blushing face with a glass of champagne.

Clarke is right, however. Within four months of their wedding, Anya visits more and more often. She's staying in town, she tells them, and its on her fifth visit that they realize that in town means Raven's small apartment above Jake's auto shop.

They date long distance for 7 months until Raven tells Anya she cant do it anymore. She doesnt want to move to the city and she can't deal with only seeing her once a month. They break up over the phone and Raven spends the entire weekend in clexa's cottage nursing her broken heart while Lexa tries to get ahold of her cousin who simply does not answer the phone.

On monday Raven is head deep in the hood of a car, greasy and with stained overalls when Anya’s nice car, far too nice for a town like this, pulls up in front of the shop's garage. Raven is shocked when she sees her, ready to tell her to go away and not embarrass herself when Anya drops to one knee, right there in the dirty shop's floor and asks Raven to marry her.

"Anya, what are you doing, get up!"

"No."

There's a speech there. One about how much Anya loves Raven, how every day they are apart all Anya can think about is her and its so stupid and maddening because Anya never cared about falling in love or marrying but even just a weekend knowing her and Raven were over was like hell on earth. So Anya sold her apartment, got all of her minimalistic life in her car, applied for remote work with her job and she bought an engagement ring. For the first time in her life she doesn't care if she doesn't have a nice apartment or if her car is a mercedes or whatever she cares about before. All Anya knows is that she wants Raven and she'll do whatever Raven wants her to have her.

It is quite the shock for Lexa when she opens the door to Raven, showing her an engagement ring and her cousin looking coy behind her, apologizing for not answering the phone.

They have a long engagement. They spend most of their free time making love in Raven's apartment until they realize it is entirely too small for two people, even with Anya’s barely there belongings.

They buy a farmhouse just at the end of town, a newly renovated one, modern but simple, perfect for them. Anya makes good money, and she enjoys working from home, finds herself enjoying breakfast in the porch and the quiet of the small town, the farmers market, and being closer to her favorite cousin. She takes up cooking and regularly brings Raven some food for lunch. She likes building and helps Clarke with a lot of projects around their farm, even if she nearly loses an eye by Clarke's hand when they are building the chicken coop.

They decide not to have a wedding ceremony. Raven has a difficult relationship with her family and Anya’s is so big it feels overwhelming. So they marry at the town hall, 4 years after being engaged with Lexa and Clarke there as witnesses, Raven's goddaughter already in Lexa's belly although barely visible.

As they exit the building already married, Anya picks Raven up and twirls her around in her arms while Raven giggles and yells at her to stop. Already by their truck, Lexa and Clarke yell in unison, "GET A ROOM!"

#letter opened #asleepingtiger #farm clexa #a bit of anya and Raven's story for yah ☺️☺️☺️ #hope you feel better soon 🤞🤞✨️✨️✨️

[workingforitallthetime]

oh ok actually girl rutger offering to marry adam for citizenship

anon this is perhaps the most delicious ask that has ever arrived in my inbox. i got it just as i started a long drive and i immediately turned off my podcast and allowed my brain to simply bask in this premise for an hour straight. here we go…

our story starts three years from now, when the gang’s all reunited at phil’s wedding or something like that. around the table at the reception, everybody’s asking adam about his second contract with anaheim. he’s bitching about how there’s some massive cross-border tax hit he’s taking on his contract value because he’s filing as single. [please suspend your disbelief so we can have a good time here, okay?] the boys tell him he should just get married, he can find a wag easy enough. i don’t want a wag, adam says, she’d expect all kinds of shit. he likes living in anaheim with luca, he likes spending his money how he wants to spend it, he doesn’t want a goldendoodle or the hassle of a wag.

rutger returns from the bar with a tequila soda in hand and slides into her seat. you should marry rutger, someone says, she’s not a wag. “goddamn right,” says rutger. “what are we talking about?” adam explains the tax thing and rutger says sure, she’s up for it. it’s not like she has a boyfriend to get in the way. she wants a cut of the tax windfall, though, since adam’s second contract is poised to be a lot richer than hers.

their families shrug and roll with it. the mcgroartys were going to visit ontario this summer anyway, so the fantillis invite a few extra people over for dinner, drop a couple grand on flowers, and bam, they’ve got an impromptu backyard wedding. because this is my story and i get to have whatever i want, pat brisson and brendan are there. pat's not gonna miss two clients getting married, even if it's just a tax dodge.

it’s important that you know that rutger has an absolutely outstanding casual white wedding dress. slim skirt, tailored sleeveless midriff top, suntanned abs on display, one of those fancy ponytails with a section of hair wrapped around the rubber band and the ends curled just so. also white adidas slides.

adam watches rugter make her way down the aisle on her dad’s arm, a bouquet of peonies tipping sideways in her grasp as she reaches out to give fistbumps to their friends. when she reaches adam and he takes her hand, she gives him a big scrunch-nosed smile, like this is a joke just for the two of them, like this is the most fun she’s ever had in her life.  he thought it might feel awkward or weird to fake-marry rutger, but it just feels… easy. maybe because they’ve been friends for so long. probably because it’s just fake.

nolan moyle gets ordained and performs the ceremony, because this is my story and I get to have everything I want. they swap silicone rings (v practical for hockey) and rutger gives adam a kiss on the cheek.

they take a series of wedding photos just in case the IRS asks any questions. after a couple of prom-looking poses, adam tries to scoop rutger up in his arms for a picture, honeymoon style, and she elbows her way right out of there. "don’t fucking do that," rutger says, 'i’m not your wag." she’s a pro hockey player in her own right! Not some wife who gets carried around by her husband. got it, adam says, sorry sorry.

nothing much changes now that they’re nominally married. they still train together part of the summer, go on the same getaways with their friends, have dinner together whenever winnipeg plays anaheim. they definitely indulge a little more on those dinners, get a really nice bottle of wine that rutger makes adam pay for out of his tax savings. all their friends know they’re not seriously married, so it’s not like they even have to keep it a secret when they discreetly hook up with other people. In a weird way, rutger finds she actually feels a lot better about dating now that she’s got a husband. having a shitty first date or a bad hookup doesn’t make her spiral about dying alone and unloved anymore. funny how that works.

the pieces finally start coming together for anaheim, and adam makes the playoffs. the jets don’t. rutger goes to adam’s home games in the first round, because it would look weird if she didn’t, even if she’s still licking her own wounds about another shitty season in winnipeg. adam calls her as she’s packing. he’s really, really sorry, but troy terry’s wife says to bring light-wash jeans and wedges.

rutger has murder in her voice. “please tell me they did not get me a wag jacket.”

"i’m so, so sorry," adam says. "dani got your measurements from the equipment manager. she said it’d be weird if you didn’t have one. they look pretty sick…" he trails off.

rutger asks, dangerously quiet, “does connor have one?” no, adam says, sheepish. they both know connor’s going to be in his usual dark suit, discreetly tucked away in a suite out of view of the cameras, masking his fury about watching mason in the playoffs while the blackhawks continue to suck. exactly what rutger planned to do, with maybe a little less fury and a few more bud lites.

rutger’s voice gets more brittle. “does trevor have one?”

…actually yeah, adam says. it’s not like she can wear it while she’s playing, but she made dani get her one anyway. rutger rolls her eyes. fucking figures. trevor will probably wear it in the dressing room afterwards, just strip off her pads and prance around in a wag jacket with drysdale on the back. fine, rutger says, ungraciously. you fucking owe me so big for this.

it's humiliating, to be shuffled off to the wag box with eighteen other blonde women when rutger’s worked her whole life to be down on that ice. the broad shoulders of her jacket stand out in the row of tiny little identical black leather jackets on the garment rack. even olen zellweger’s figure skater boyfriend looks more at home than she does. she puts on a brave face for the social media photos, though, and once the game starts it’s easy to get swept up with cheering for adam. she wants this for him more than any of these other girls wants it for her man. rutger knows what this means in a way they never will. when adam scores the go-ahead goal, she screams herself hoarse.

at intermission she takes a selfie with her back to the bathroom mirror, holding her phone up to her shoulder so adam’s number is in the frame and tilting her chin so the ends of her ponytail tickle the gold-trimmed fantilli lettering across her shoulder blades. it’s obvious from her profile that she’s smiling. she texts the photo to adam as a peace offering.

the notif is the first thing adam sees when he checks his phone after the game. He opens the photo and immediately hides the screen of his phone flat against his chest, his entire body going tingly like he just got an unexpected sext. he knows better than to tell rutger it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. he even waits until she leaves town before he makes it his lockscreen. he can do that. that’s his wife, right?

the ducks only get a taste of the postseason that year. the offseason comes too soon, and this year it feels different. not on the ice – skating with adam’s just as fun and challenging as ever. he doesn’t ever take it easy on rutger, and that's what she likes about him. but off the ice it’s different. they remind each other more often: hey, we’re married, right? like when adam stretches out on the bench seat of the boat and rests his head in rutger’s lap for her to swirl her fingers through his damp hair. or when rutger steals adam’s favorite gray hoodie and snuggles up next to him by the firepit. and finally, quietly, when they’re the only ones left at the end of the dock on a moonlit night, and adam tips up rutger’s chin and kisses her.

as summer comes to an end, they’re making real plans. how adam can stay an extra night in winnipeg when the ducks come through town, where they’ll go for the all star break, whether it’s possible to spend christmas together. but then the last weekend they spend together before training camp, rutger catches a glimpse of adam’s lockscreen and everything comes crashing down. that’s how adam likes her, huh? just another identical blonde with his name on her back? what the hell is she doing here, planning to be adam’s wag? she deserves better. she’s got her own career. she deserves somebody who’ll cheer for her. there’s plenty of girls who’d be happy to be adam fantilli’s wag and he can goddamn go and find one of them.

rutger storms off to winnipeg and channels her righteous fury into a career season. she and adam don’t go out to dinner when they’re in anaheim. She cross-checks him instead.

two weeks later, when the news comes out that adam’s torn his [insert muscle or tendon of your choice] and he’s done for the season, rutger knows she didn’t cause it, but she feels vaguely guilty anyway. especially when team usa comes calling for [insert best on best competition of your choice]. adam should be there for team canada, but he won’t be. even if being married didn't work out, rutger’s always had the most fun competing against him, and they won’t have that this year.

adam shows up anyway. He goes to [insert european country of your choice] with rutger’s family, and he meets her on the concourse after games, and he gives her achingly specific compliments about her play, and he says the right sympathetic but not patronizing things after finland beats team usa in OT to take the top seed in their group.

when team usa wins gold, rutger sees her own red white and blue jersey among the families on the ice before she realizes adam’s the one wearing it. she skates toward him slowly, clutching the flag around her shoulders like a protective shell. “good game,” adam says. His voice is a little hoarse, like he’s been cheering for her.

rutger touches her fingertip to the little American flag temporary tattoo on his cheek. “looks good on you.”

“for today I guess,” adam says. His cheek lifts under her finger when he smiles. without his skates, rutger’s almost as tall as he is. rutger kisses him, and kisses him, and keeps on kissing him even when adam scoops her up off the ice, honeymoon style. she wraps her arms around his neck and kicks one skate into the air, and doesn’t protest one bit.

#anonymouskinis #campfire story!

[jankandjonch]

Reasons for Waiting, Part Two

probably my most requested piece. gather your tissues. read part one before reading this. word count: 2.7k

*

“You said you would wait for me, that was the loudest lie I’ve ever been told.”

“Okay, drama queen, just take your turn already,” Jake rolled his eyes at his older brother. 

“Oh, guess who I ran into today,” Josh spoke slowly as he moved his Monopoly piece across the board, his eyes lulling to stare at Danny. Subtlety has never been in his genes.

“Who’s that?,” Danny spoke around the beer bottle raised to his lips.

“Y/N.”

A splatter of the liquid landed on the corner of Josh’s mouth, making him chuckle as he reached to wipe it. Sam reaching for a napkin to clean up the rest of the beer that had been spat out of Danny’s mouth.

“Like from home? Where the fuck did you see her? Is she here? In town? Where did you see her? What did you- what did she say?”

“I’d love to tell you all of the details, if you’d shut the fuck up, my beloved Daniel,” Josh laughed along with his brothers at the shock the simple confession had put Danny in. “I ran into her at Publix. She said she’s doing great, she’s in town visiting her fiancé. She’s still doing photography. She’s got purple hair. Lots of tattoos. This really cute nose ring,” Josh rambled on, waving his hands about.

Fiancé. Danny’s heart was sitting in his lap. He didn’t hear any of the other words Josh’s mouth was spewing out at him. Staring at his lips as he continued talking, all Daniel could hear was blood rushing in his head and the hammering of his heart. His body moved faster than his mind, scooting his chair back a little too aggressively as it slammed into the wall behind him. His legs carried him out the door, he leaned over the banister of Jake’s back patio, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. 

What the fuck is wrong with me? I haven’t seen her in six years. I haven’t spoken to her in five years. Why do I care? Who the fuck is she engaged to? Did she have an engagement party? Did she think about inviting me? Will I be invited to the wedding? Holy fuck. A wedding. She’s going to get married. It won’t be me.

“Babe? What are you doing out here?,” her voice was shrill and it went ran a shiver down his spine. “Are you alright, what happened?” Her hands felt like flames against his skin, burning straight through his shirt.

“I don’t want to be with you.”

“Excuse me?,” her touch turning icy cold. “Like, you need some air, some space?”

He laughed, tearful and gruff, at how hopeful she sounded.

“No. Like I do not want to date you. It’s over, it’s done. I’m in love with someone else,” his voice was stern, even while it wavered as tears streaked his cheeks.

He let out a breath of relief when she left without another word. He didn’t have the strength to argue right now. A rush of wind blew through, Danny closed his eyes, leaning into it. The breeze drying his tears as the moonlight washed over him. He could picture it so vividly in his mind, your presence next to him. 

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

He’s 18, it’s his last round of golf on the high school team. He’s oddly emotional, feeling stupid as his eyes begin to water. One glance over at the crowd and his eyes find you, your hand waving him toward you, the other reaching into your bag to get his sunglasses out. He jogs over, so grateful for your over packing tendencies. Slides the oversized glasses on, hiding his reddening eyes from the other players. A kiss to the back of your hand, and he’s back on the fairway. 

He’s 16, his dad is behind him in the mirror, teaching him how to tie his tie. Dan is smiling at his son, his little boy is growing up. Junior prom came in the blink of an eye. Danny’s hands were shaking, growing more and more nervous as the minutes ticked by. He was awaiting your arrival with bated breath, knowing you would look the most beautiful in your dress. His heart stopped, his jaw dropped, his stomach hurt. The rose gold gown you wore caught the setting sunlight in the most glorious way. “Aphrodite,” he called you for the entire evening.

He’s 12, feeling what he could only explain as his first ‘real’ heartbreak. The girl he finally worked up the courage to ask to be his girlfriend had told everyone she only said yes as a joke. He hid in the gymnasium, skipping three classes in a row. The door swung open and he dropped between the bleachers, hoping it wasn’t a teacher and if it was, that they hadn’t seen him. “Daniel, come out of there,” his cheeks glowed red when he heard your voice. Lifting himself out of the bleachers, he saw you approaching him with the worried look of a mother on your face. “You can’t run away from all of your problems, you know?” He didn’t need to, just this one. You understood, and held him in your arms while he cried of how embarrassed he was. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, walking home with him after the final school bell rang. You made sure he had a glass of water by his bed before you left him as he fell into his bed. His mother gave you a hug before you left, whispering in your ear “you will be such a good wife some day.” 

He’s 7, sat huffing on the side walk with two skinned knees. Unsure if he’s crying because he’s angry, or angry because he’s crying. That stupid jerk from the 9th grade had pushed him while he was trying to skateboard, stealing his board and leaving him bloody and humiliated. He didn’t want to walk home, knowing his mom would give him the fifth degree for losing the board she didn’t even want to buy him in the first place. “I thought you were doing a good job before,” you muttered as you plopped yourself down next to him. “You’re better than that idiot, that’s probably why he took your board. So he could practice some more. He’s a loser.” He stared at you in confusion. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” he stared at your hand outstretched to him. “I’m Daniel. You can call me Danny, though.” He shook your hand.

He’s 24, understanding just how big of a mistake he had made with his life.

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

“Did she say where she was staying?,” Danny was panting, out of breath from crying harder as he ran back inside to find Josh again.

“Uh, not specifically. Just said her fiancé lived near the river. I’d guess those apartments by- hey, Dan, wait, don’t-“ Josh couldn’t finish his thought as Danny was sprinting out of the front door, jumping into his car. 

He drove to the river, looking at GPS on his phone, seeing all of the apartment buildings in the area, all of the houses and condos, he felt his shoulders deflate with defeat and his eyes fill with tears once again.

A knock on his window startled him, his head springing up to look at the passenger side of his car. 

“Daniel?”

“Holy fuck.”

“Hi, Daniel,” you laughed, mostly in disbelief as he scrambled out of his car.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he crushed you against his chest, fingers not able to sit still — squeezing into your sides, tangling into your hair, grasping at the back of your sweatshirt, like he thought you’d vanish if he let you break away from him.

“Yeah, I missed you too, Dan,” you did, that was true. The bitterness that you sat with for a while had vanished long ago. “It’s been so crazy to watch your career. I am so fucking proud of you,” you pushed him away from you to look into his eyes, showing him you really meant it.

“You have purple hair,” his eyes were roaming over your appearance, he’s taking so much in at once and he’s overwhelmed.

“Indeed I do, thanks for observing,” you laughed, pushing him further away from you. “Would you like to come in?” You waved your hand in the general direction of the apartment complex across the street.

Hm. Even with no address, no idea of where he was going or what he was looking for, he had found you. He felt proud of that, universal pull or intuition or soulmate attraction or something.

“I’d love to but- I don’t want to- Josh told me-” he didn’t want to say the words again.

“Josh told you that I’m engaged? What a fucking rat. Um, yeah, so, this is actually his apartment but he’s out of town so. Yeah, no worries about running into him or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He simply nodded, letting you lead the way. 

“What were you doing in this area anyway? Josh said you live all the way on the other side of town,” you left him to get comfy on the couch as you grabbed some drinks from the kitchen.

“You asked him about me?,” he stared at the tattoo on your wrist as you handed him a beer. The letters scrolled honey across your skin.

“Okay, I know a lot of time has passed but I think I still know you pretty well and I know this conversation will go absolutely nowhere because your brain is scattered right now. So, ask what you want to ask. Say what you want to say. Get the elephant out of the room, okay?,” you could hardly look into his eyes, knowing he had been crying, wondering if you were the reason why his face was red and puffy.

“You’re engaged? Who is he?,” Danny was quick to spit it out, the question fucking killing him since he heard Josh utter the word.

“His name is Jason, he’s a wonderful guy. Everything you always told me I deserved. Here,” you scooted the photo album that lay on the coffee table closer to him. He realized he hadn’t even taken in his surroundings, snatching up the book and flipping it open so he could see who this man was.

“I didn’t tell Josh where I was staying,” you mumbled. He left that unanswered as he thumbed through the photo book quickly, absorbing as much of these memories as he could, seeing so much of your life that he had missed out on.

“When did you guys meet?,” he needed to know how long this had been happening, somehow he thought that might ease the ache that was spreading in his chest.

“2018. He worked at the tattoo shop that I started going to, and he sat with me in the parking lot one night after a tattoo and we talked for hours. He wanted to know why I was in such a rush to change myself, asked about the word I had him put on my wrist,” your thumb mindlessly brushed over the area as you spoke. “I told him all about you.”

Danny’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, breaking away from watching the motion of your fingers. “What?”

“Well, it was you, after all,” you laughed. “God, I loved you so much Daniel. I really, truly thought it was going to be us. The day you told me you were leaving, I knew. I would never be enough. You were going to have this huge, spectacular life, and I’ve just been happy to see it from the sidelines. I really am proud of you,” you reached over to wipe his tears before you wiped your own, forever putting him before yourself.

“It is us, honey. I swear it is. That’s why I found you tonight,” a sob fell out of his mouth, “I love you. I love you so much and I always have and I’m so fucking sorry I let you go. I should have never sent that last message, it wasn’t what I wanted but I thought it was best and now I’m a fucking wreck because you’re engaged and I can’t watch you marry someone that isn’t me.”

The silence the two of you sat in was full of pain, yearning, regret, and worst of all - disconnect.

“Daniel, I’m in love with Jason. I haven’t been in love with you in a long time. You coming here and making these statements isn’t going to change that, honey.” 

“Can I come?,” his voice was weak, he sounded like a child just shot down from getting his favorite treat.

“To the wedding? You don’t want that, Daniel,” your voice was still full of intent, getting your point across, but shaking as you let your emotions take root.

“You think you aren’t enough for me?”

“What?,” you let out a light laugh at his not so subtle questioning. His mind truly is everywhere and nowhere tonight.

“That’s what you said, a minute ago. You said you knew you would never be enough. You’re wrong. So fucking wrong it’s despicable. You’re everything. You were too good for me, always were too good for me. From the first day we met and you cared more than my own mother about my banged up knees and making sure I wasn’t upset about what that dick Greg O’Connell said to me- you cared about me. Far more than I ever deserved, honestly. Far more than I ever showed you how much I cared. I did, though, I do. I always will care so much about you. I’ll always find you, GPS be damned. Your soul rests with mine and that is something no one can ever take from me. He can take you, marry you, make a family with you. But your soul will always be for me. We’ll find each other again. Maybe the next trip around the Sun. I want to go to the wedding, I want to know and feel that pain, let it hurt enough that I remember it the next time. In the next life, I’ll remember that knife in my fucking chest and I’ll never be selfish enough to let you go again.”

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

As much as everyone, yourself included, agreed it was a bad idea, the following summer you invited Danny and the guys to the wedding. They sat third row from the back on your side, they cheered the loudest when you kissed your husband for the first time. Never able to mistake Josh’s loud whoops or Jake’s wolf whistle for anyone else. As you walked down the aisle to your future, you locked eyes with Daniel. The smile on his face was genuine. So were the tears rolling down his face. You scrunched your nose at him, he returned it immediately. A signal through the years of silently saying I love you, and in this case a thank you for all of the years passed and growth done.

Three weeks later, you sat on the floor of your living room watching a shuffling playlist of music videos on YouTube, sifting through and opening gifts that were left for you and your husband at your wedding. A stack of blank thank you cards sat on the coffee table, writing a personalized one for every person. Opening a sky blue gift bag, pulling out the white stuffing paper, your eyes landed on a white card envelope first. Only your name scrolled across the front, you opened it to begin reading- interrupted by a quick glance toward the TV where ‘Light My Love’ by Greta Van Fleet just begun to play.

Beneath it, encased still in the original plastic box, the boutonniere that he donned the night of Junior prom. A pink rose, dusted with gold, now dried and partially crumbled. You hugged it to your chest, rising from your spot on the floor and wandering to the bookshelves across the room. Ever so gently, as not to jostle it anymore, you reached up on your tip toes to place the gift on the shelf. Right next to the framed photo of yourself and Daniel at graduation.

#danny #danny wagner #danny wagner fic #danny wagner angst #danny wagner blurb #daniel wagner #daniel r wagner #daniel robert wagner #gvf #gvf fic #gvf blurb #gvf angst #greta van fleet #greta van fleet blurb #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fic

[evansbby]

✨my grey’s anatomy unpopular opinions✨

some of these may not even be unpopular but anyways

Cristina & Burke >>> Cristina & Owen

Burke wasn’t perfect but at least he realised he couldn’t change Cristina and so he did the best thing for both of them by leaving. Obviously leaving someone on the altar is shitty but like in the long run it’s a good thing.

Apart from that, as a couple they were so sweet like if you just watch old clips of them dancing and just living in their apartment and he’s all neat and she’s all messy but it’s just cute!!!

Owen is literally the worst. I don’t even need to explain this one. There were moments where I felt kind of bad for him but overall he is just the worst.

Teddy and Henry were such a cute couple, their story was so sweet and I wish he would’ve stayed alive so they would’ve been endgame.

The scene where Teddy comes home to find Henry throwing up blood on their sink 🥺🥺 When I tell you I cried so hard!!! To me they were top five couples of Greys idec.

They RUINED Callie’s character! She was so good and badass when she was first introduced and then they gave her the worst exit ever. I loved Callie but her last arc aka the custody battle really made me hate her.

Izzie is overhated! I love Izzie and she’s my fav character. Yes cutting the LVAD wire was wrong but she was desperate and in love.

Katherine Heigl (Izzie) CARRIED the first five seasons of this show especially season 2. Her acting was so brilliant, it’s insane. Actually, Katherine Heigl and Sandra Oh (Cristina) carried, and deservedly won Emmys and Golden Globes for their roles bc they were brilliant.

Izzie x Alex >>> Izzie x Denny. Izzex was THE Grey’s couple in the early seasons after MerDer. She changed him 🥺 he changed for her. Their wedding was beautiful, everything about them was beautiful except how she left him but I sort of understood after everything she’d been through. Just know it wouldn’t have panned out like that in storyline if Shonda didn’t have a problem with Katherine. But they got their happy ending in season 16 which I was SO happy about. My fav couple ever. Like I felt bad he left Jo but HE ALWAYS LOVED IZZIE MORE.

I feel like Lexie is overloved? I mean she was a really nice and funny character and she was lovely but why is she people’s favourite character ranked above Cristina and others??? Lexie’s storylines were never really big or important, why are you liking a character just bc they are nice?? Like Sandra Oh didn’t deliver such AMAZING performances for y’all to pick Lexie over her bc she’s “nice”.

CRISTINA WAS THE HEART OF THE SHOW! Which is why I stopped watching at the end of season 10 the moment she left!!! Her dramatic scenes, her comedy, her everything was perfect.

I honestly feel like the central relationship of the show was the friendship and bond between Meredith and Cristina. It was the crux of the show. It was heartwarming watching them be so close, almost telepathically connected without even saying anything.

George was VERY pick me in the early seasons, but he was a GOOD guy and it showed by his actions. Also the way he was so brave in a quiet way.

The scene with Izzie in her prom dress getting in the elevator and the doors open to reveal George in his army uniform showing he died WAS PEAK CINEMA. I CRIED SO HARD.

Alex was genuinely really mean to George up till George died and for no reason?!? He just didn’t like George at all and bullied him and it was uncomfortable to watch like bro it’s been five seasons WHY DO YOU STILL HATE HIM. Like Alex had started being nice to the girls by that point but he was still horrible to George??? I wish I’d seen their friendship develop.

DEREK was a dick. Like at the beginning. I just didn’t like him at all. He grew on me a bit but I honestly didn’t care that much that he died. He had his good moments but first three seasons he was a dick to both Meredith and Addison. I understand why with Addison bc she cheated on him, but he was so awful to Meredith when she was sleeping around and he basically called her a whore??? BRO YOU ARE THE ONE WHO REJECTED HER AND CHOSE ADDISON?!? Bye lmao

Bailey was SO good in the early-mid seasons. Like just so entertaining to watch and honestly Chandra Wilson is the third person who carried the show along with Katherine and Sandra. But she got annoying in later seasons.

But Bayley and Cristina in the shooting episode was top tier acting. You could FEEL their emotions through the screen.

Grey’s Anatomy doesn’t have the same magic anymore since Cristina left. I really don’t like any of the new characters like Maggie or even Amelia or any of the new guys. And OWEN IS STILL THERE WTF.

Besides that, here are some scenes where I felt like the acting was brilliant:

— When Cristina is performing surgery under gunpoint.

— Izzie when Denny dies. I think the best acting performance of the whole show. “An hour ago he was proposing and now he’s going to the morgue.”

— Cristina when Burke left her on their wedding day, “he’s gone, I’m free”

— Bailey in the shooting episode.

— When George remembers that he slept with Izzie when they were drunk. The scene doesn’t even have any dialogue yall, it’s just their EXPRESSIONS are so good. It’s my favourite scene in the whole show. It’s so emotional and dramatic and only a few seconds long.

— Probably others but I don’t remember.

#anyways #grey’s anatomy

[avenirdelight]

A Letter For Your Sister

John Stones

John finds a letter that he wrote for her when they were still in high school, one that he never actually gave to her. They're going to get married in two weeks.

“Come in.”

John heard the voice from inside the room. He carefully opened the door and peeked inside. The girl’s gaze found him through the reflection on the dressing table’s mirror. She was curling her hair and she paused when she realised that it was John knocking on her door.

“Hey, Els. Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure. Come in, John. Back from training?”

“Yeah.” John entered her bedroom and took a seat on the edge of her bed. “You’re going somewhere?”

“I’m going on a date tonight,” she answered excitedly. “Is my sister home? I thought she was still at work.”

“She is. I’m going to pick her up in a minute. Uhh– I’m actually here to see you.”

The girl, Elsa, his soon-to-be little sister-in-law, looked at him again through the mirror. The creases on her forehead showed her curiosity. “You want to see me?” Elsa had done the last curl and she carefully plugged off the curling iron and put it aside. She turned her chair so she could face John. “Don’t tell me you had a fight with my sister and you need me to help you guys to reconcile. It’s like two weeks before your wedding, it’s not funny if you fight now.”

John nervously chuckled and shook his head. “No, don’t worry, we’re not fighting.”

Elsa shrugged. “Well, most of the time you see me for that, or when you want to do a surprise. Wait– Are you gonna do a surprise?”

John fell silent for a second before he opened his washbag that he’d set beside him on the bed. He took out a brown envelope and stared at it; he flipped it over and over again. The envelope looked old and crumpled. It felt heavy in his hands as it held a precious memory, that he was about to share with someone for the first time.

“You know that I had a crush on your sister in high school, don’t you?”

“Yeah…” She softly nodded. Her full attention was on him, eyes and ears.

“I found this the other day. I’ve actually lost it, and been looking for it for years, and I found it in my parent’s house. It was in an old book, between the pages.” John briefly held up the envelope for her to take a good look at it. “This is a letter I wrote to your sister back then.”

John was almost amused when she saw her dropping her jaw—she was already entertained from the small piece of information that he’d just given her—but John was nervous for some reason, he couldn’t even react to her reaction.

“I’d had a crush on her for years and I didn’t have the courage to confess to her in person. So before we graduated, I wrote her this letter, proper poured my heart out and asked her if she wanted to go to the school ball with me.”

The look on Elsa’s face switched swiftly from entertained to confused. “But she didn’t go to prom with you. She went with M–”

“Max. The most famous guy in school, I know.” John sighed. The mention of the lad’s name still gave him a strange feeling even now. “I never got to ask her… Because I never gave her this letter. Max asked her first, so I bailed out. And I heard that they started dating so I just gave it up.”

“Wait for a second, I’m confused, I– I’ve never heard about this before.” Elsa shook her head. “Does she even know about this? About this letter? About you planning to confess?”

“No…” John breathed out. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told about this.”

That must be a total surprise for Elsa because she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “And why are you telling me this now?”

John shifted on the bed and sat up straight. It had been two days since he’d found this letter and pondered upon this interesting idea. He clearly couldn’t keep it to himself anymore.

“I have an idea and I’d like to know what you think about it.” He stared at Elsa, eyes full of hope. “I want to read this letter for her on our wedding day. At the reception,” he started as he dropped his gaze to the letter again. “This letter is proof of my love for her. The way I felt in this letter is exactly how I’m feeling now, and how I’ll always feel for her.”

John’s thumb traced the faded ink on the front side of the envelope—her name, in his messy handwriting. “I’d fallen in love with your sister a decade before she even really looked at me, Els. I was head over heels for her, she was the centre of my world. I used to want to get better at my game because I wanted to impress her,” John chortled, everything he was saying brought so many sentimental feelings. “Now she’s become the reason why I do what I do.”

A faint smile had appeared in John’s smile without him realising. His heart was wrapped by a warm feeling—he enjoyed the feeling even though it was actually quite painful. And his smile grew wider when he raised his head, and he saw Elsa’s eyes full of tears.

“Are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“Shut up.” Elsa looked away immediately as she wiped her tears. “You both are really meant to be together, okay? I’m just proud to see how far you two have come,” she said before she looked at John again. “And I’m so glad that my sister found you again and chose you, John.”

Her statement felt like the highest praise for John. It meant a lot for him that her sibling—whom she was very close to—supported their relationship. John remembered the first time Elsa said to him “Yeah, I like you. You’ve got a yes for me” a couple years ago. He’d felt such a relief, even though right after that he’d gotten chills because Elsa continued with “But if you hurt her or break her heart I’m literally going to make up the worst rumours and send it to The Sun to ruin your life”.

“Thank you,” John said. “So, what do you think? Do you think I should read the letter?”

—

She was finally Mrs. Stones. The man standing beside her right now was officially her husband. He looked the most handsome in his white suit that she’d picked up for him. His eyes had been sparkling with love and joy throughout the day, and he hadn’t stopped smiling. She had been the same, and she could say that she looked stunning herself in her sparkly white dress.

This was their day. This was one of the best days of her life. She got to marry the man of her dreams. If back in high school you’d told her that she was going to marry John Stones, that one lad who always sat at the back of the class, and that he was the one who was going to spend the rest of her life with, she probably wouldn’t believe you. He’d been just a friend, just someone in the background.

But so many years later, their paths had crossed again; they met again through a mutual friend. The lad had become a Manchester City player and an England international, and this time, he stepped forward. He made himself seen by her and it wasn’t hard for her to understand his intention, so she started paying attention too. It didn’t take long until John asked her to go on a date, which she eagerly said yes to—not because he was now a successful footballer, but because she’d gotten to know how wonderful of a person John actually was. She quickly fell for him.

And here they were now, about to have the first dance as a married couple. John had led her to the dance floor but for some reason she was nervous, mostly because she realised that they weren’t just going to dance in John’s or her living room like any other day. This was going to be the most special dance that she would never forget.

She’d chosen the perfect song. It was their favourite song that they loved to dance to but she knew this one would feel different, she was probably going to start to cry when the intro came on. They both got into position and she took a deep breath, ready for John to place his hands on her waist and start the dance.

But John didn’t. He gave her a small smile before he stepped back, even tried to let go of her hand. She was confused and reluctant but she let him go eventually when Elsa came forward with a microphone and an envelope, and handed it to him. She slightly furrowed her eyebrows, trying to understand what was going on, because they’d done a rehearsal and she knew the whole schedule, and this definitely wasn’t on the plan.

“Before we start the first dance as a married couple, I want to say something,” John announced to the microphone. “I have this letter in my hand… You know I had a crush on you back in high school, but I think you don’t know how serious it was. This letter will tell you about it.” He held up the brown envelope for her and the whole room to see, and briefly looked around before focusing back on her. “I wrote this letter over a decade ago, before our school ball. I never gave it to you because I thought I was too late. But I want to read it for you now.”

She froze in her place, processing every word that John had just said. Her heart started racing when he mentioned that this letter he was going to read was from over a decade ago. Not long after they started dating, John had confessed that he liked her back in high school, but he’d never mentioned anything about any letter. She only watched on as John took out the letter out of the crumpled envelope.

John smiled at her. He actually looked nervous. He took a deep breath before he started reading.

“Hello. This is me. John. First, I want to thank you for accepting this letter and taking the time to read it. I really do appreciate it.

It might be silly for someone like me writing this letter for someone like you. You’re a smart, beautiful, and one of the most popular girls at school. And I’m just a regular lad who likes to play football.

The thing is, I like you very much. Probably more than I like football right now. I’ve always liked you since the first time you kindly lent me a pencil in our very first English class. I liked the way you smile and I’ve grown to like you more since then.”

John paused and shifted his gaze at her. She was already choking up, both hands against her chest because she felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Teenager John, that shy but grumpy kid, wrote this sweet letter for her; she would’ve never imagined that.

“I like your voice and how you always speak with confidence, I like your kindness to everyone, I like your pretty eyes, I like your obsession with coloured pens, I like how cute you look when you get shy. Sometimes you nag me because I bring a ball to class and mess around with it, and I like that too. The list goes on but the point is I like everything about you. You take my breath away when you enter the room and turn my world upside down when you look at me and talk to me.

We have a school ball coming up. Half of the boys at school are probably asking you to be their date, but I’m gonna take my chance because taking you to the school ball would be a dream come true.”

A few tears had already rolled down her cheeks. John’s voice sounded so gentle, so genuine. And if she were to read this letter back then, that would’ve also been the voice that she heard in her head. Even though John had been quite a mischievous kid, he’d always been nice and sweet to her most of the time. 

“I know you will look beautiful in that white dress you have been telling your friends about. I’ll pick myself a white suit to match yours, or any colour you want me to wear. I’m pretty good at dancing, so that might be a plus point. I promise I’ll be a gentleman and get you home safely before your curfew.

So, do you want to go to the ball with me?”

She stared at John through her teary eyes. She didn’t know how to respond; she didn’t know if she should respond. She was still so stunned, so touched by that letter and John’s decision to finally reveal it to her on their wedding day. She couldn’t think of anything except for the fact that John had actually planned to confess to her in high school. It had been serious to him and she’d been completely oblivious to it.

“I was too late to give you this because someone had already asked you out, and I lost the courage. But thank God our paths crossed again and I promised myself I wasn’t gonna waste that second chance. You were the girl of my dreams and you still are now, and you always will be,” John said, staring at her deeply. He was getting teary too. “I was upset that I couldn’t have a dance with you at our school ball, but that’s okay, because now I can have one with you at our very own wedding.” He took a step forward and held out the letter for her. “So, baby, will you dance with me?”

She wasted no time in nodding her head as she saw a big smile grow on John’s face. She took the letter and spent a moment taking a look at it. Her heart clenched when she saw his handwriting—a bit messy, but you could tell that he put a good effort in it. She sobbed through her smile and the next second, she fell into his embrace.

“I love you so much,” John whispered in her ear and she giggled. The feelings were getting a bit overwhelming, so she needed to hold on to John for a moment and take a breath; his fond words went unreplied.

She finally looked up to John after she composed herself. “Thank you for coming back into my life, and for choosing me again.” She had so many questions and so many things to say but for now, it was all that she could convey. “God, this is crazy, John. Is this even reality? I love you so much. I love you.”

John chuckled as he gently squeezed her waist. “Oh, baby, I love you so much.” He leant in to place a kiss on her forehead. “Shall we give the mic and the letter back to Elsa and have our dance now?”

Elsa came back to take the things and quickly dabbed her fallen tears with a tissue; she knew the girl had been crying too, she must’ve plotted this whole thing with John. She then took a look around. She’d been quite in a daze and it had been like everyone else disappeared from the room. She’d only noticed now that everyone was surrounding them with a loving and happy look, many of them were recording the special moment. She caught glimpses of their mums looking at them adoringly, and her bridesmaids were all in the same state. 

She felt like crying again when the intro of the song started playing, but the feeling of John’s hands on her waist and his fond gaze soothed her. They slowly danced as they stared into each other’s eyes. Her mind was still wandering, she might have messed up some steps of the dance, but did it even matter? It was the same thing with the fact that John had ended up not giving her the letter back then—did it even matter now? 

John was supposed to completely miss his chance in high school. She was supposed to come to that party where she met John again after so long. That letter was meant to be written, undelivered, lost for a few years, be kept secret, be found again, and eventually be read in the most important moment. Everything was meant to be and it surely made up a really beautiful story.

—

if i remember correctly, i watched a video of a man reading a letter to a little girl, whose mum he's about to marry. i got inspired by that. hope you liked it!

if you want to be on my tag list, please fill in this form.

[john stones tag list: @mountchilly @lfcthelovesofmylife @muglermami @mehrmonga @koufaxx @kayleea122 @blueanfield @charlesxavierenthusiast @johnstonesfc]

My Masterlist🤍

#avenirdelightwrites #john stones imagines #football imagines #footballer imagines #john stones one shot #football one shot #footballer one shot #football fic #footballer fic #imagine #one shots #fanfiction #fanfic #john stones fic

[powderblueblood]

Is there ever a time where Nicole, Cass, Heather,or even Carol start missing Lacy????

Like maybe they miss there old friend????

(and i’m gonna fold your other anon in here as well my love) but god have i been waiting to talk about this one.

because if we’re going to talk about girlhood, we’re going to talk about grief.

because for all the vaudeville of her high school persona, all that borrowed high wire performance where she pretended to be just the right girl with all the right moves, lacy was just that. lacy was a girl, and nicole was a girl, and cass, and heather, and tina, and god, carol. carol was a girl.

carol might miss lacy the worst of all.

grief finds carol at the perfume counter of the department store, pouring over crystalline glass and her red hair smelling of candied roses. she catches a whiff of a powdery vanilla with a spicy blowback and her heart pounds.

“you can’t wear an empire waist to junior prom, care. you know what the headline on that will be? shotgun wedding.”

“hm. maybe the sooner i lock it down with tommy, the better.”

carol had watched as lacy’s fist tightened around skirts of chiffon, eyes flashing.

“you’re not seriously threatening to beaver trap him?”

“no… but. you know. it has to happen. it’s what’s supposed to happen. right? mrs hagan, three kids, two dogs, white picket.”

carol swayed in her dress, a periwinkle blue that washed her out, as lacy hovered in the near background. an apparition in the mirror.

“it doesn’t have to be just that, you know. you don’t… have to want that.”

because lacy had been the one to hear carol cry when tommy cheated on her the first time, and the fourth and the fifth. lacy had been the first one to push back when she and tommy got back together, like two leeches latching onto one another, returning to parasitic bliss. told carol she was humiliating herself, the way she kept doing this.

“better to be humiliated with a boyfriend than single with a stick up my ass, lacy.”

“i’m gonna remember you said that the next time he comes crying to you all guilty and hungover and you come crying to me, telling me he did it again.”

she didn’t, though. for whatever reason, lacy never threw that back in her face until she absolutely had to.

of all the prize fighting bitches carol had managed to collect, lacy was her favourite. lacy could go toe to toe with anyone, even nicole on her good days. tina was nothing but drop dead jealous of her and cass regarded her with an admirable intimidation. heather was the one who started the rumor about her having a combination lock on her pussy, but carol just loved her. being with lacy felt like strutting on a knife’s edge; carol couldn’t explain it, but it felt like being somebody. lacy had that aura about her. you felt important just by being in her orbit.

she’d haul carol in when she was being too much of an unrepentant bitch and call it a lesson in class.

“never give them more than they deserve, care. don’t sully yourself by dignifying trash.”

lacy never sunk to anyone’s level—she never sunk, until carol’s fist collided with her face at harrington’s that night. watching her get hauled off by that munson freak, her limbs thrashing toward her, desperate to retaliate, carol’s stomach roiled with two distinct kinds of shame—one, at the humiliation lacy’s betrayal had put upon her, what with her running her mouth about tina and tommy and crabs and all. and two, carol’s betrayal of lacy.

because she never did sink, not with anything that was going on. and carol never thought to check on how hard she was working to keep water out of the boat. lacy would have done it for her. whether she wanted to or not. it’s just what you do.

she should have held lacy’s hand and cradled her head and let her crash at her place when her old man got scary. it’s just what you do.

carol would catch glimpses of lacy snaking throughout the hallways these days, in her darkened outfits and berried lips, sharing some blast of static with that piece of long-haired forest hills trailer trash. looking like someone had switched on a light inside her, despite it all. carol would angrily tut, the only thing filling the deadened air between her and tommy.

grief chokes carol up at the perfume counter of the department store and she realises that she misses having a girl who makes her feel like somebody tell her what not to wear.

#powder room talk #anonymous #hai brainrot