#so they decided to get married surrounded by everyone on love day and then next spooky day they'll have a full on wedding <33 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

worseforwords · 2 months

Text

The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said.

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you.

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.”

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder.

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room.

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected.

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right?

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc

528 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 5 days

Text

The Better, Not So Hidden Half

Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.

Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.

Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.

“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.

“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.

Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.

“About what?” you reply.

“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”

“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”

Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.

“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”

“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”

When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.

“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.

“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.

“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”

You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.

“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.

“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.

“Lucy, please.”

“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.

“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”

You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.

“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.

“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”

Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.

“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.

Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”

“The place where they met,” Talia answers.

Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”

“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”

“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”

“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”

“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.

“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.

She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).

“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.

“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.

“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.

Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.

You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.

“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.

“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.

His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.

“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.

“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”

Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.

“Had to take this off,” he tells you.

You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.

“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.

“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.

“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.

“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”

“I warned you.”

“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.

Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.

“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”

“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.

“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”

Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”

“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”

Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.

“Hi again,” she tells you.

“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.

“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.

“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”

“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.

“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”

Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.

You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.

“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.

“Don’t,” you warn.

“You kissed me first.”

“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”

“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”

“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.

#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader

220 notes · View notes

greynatomy · 7 months

Text

soulmates

lia wälti x reader

i just started writing and came up with this. idk how i feel about it, but it was an idea.

also… writing endings are very difficult.

———

A couple years back, in a small town in Switzerland, two best friends decided to have a stroll around their town. They come across a very familiar park that they’ve been going to as kids.

Not far from the girls, are two boys, playing a game of football. Too occupied in their game, they didn’t see the two girls, who also weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, and ran into them, literally.

The boys quickly get off the ground, dusting themselves off and offering a hand to each lady.

“We are sorry about that.” One of the boys said.

“We weren’t paying attention.” The other saying.

“Oh, it’s alright.”

“We weren’t paying attention ourselves.”

This was the start of four friends’ unbreakable bond.

Over the years, the four grew up together. If you see one of them, the other three aren’t too far behind. Each girl eventually fell in love with one of the boys, same with the boys.

They finished school, got married, moved into houses right next to each other and to no one’s surprise, the girls fell pregnant at the same time.

Two girls.

Born within a month of each other.

Two girls who would grow up being best friends. You both would become inseparable. Always attached to the hip.

You started preschool together, eventually going off to kindergarten together.

One day, when you were both ten years old, under the old maple tree in her backyard, two other friends of yours are standing close together, both her hands holding onto yours.

Your parents watch through the kitchen window, wondering what you kids were up to now. To their surprise, they watch as Lia pulled you close, like how she sees her parents do, and gave you a little kiss on the lips, pulling away, wide smiles on both your faces, your two friends clapping and cheering.

Only when the two of you ran inside the house did they understand what happened.

“We got married!” You yelled, while Lia said, “She’s my wife!” Referring to you.

The four friends looked at one another in understanding.

They created soulmates.

From then on, Lia would always refer to you as her wife. “Hi, wife.” She would often say whenever she sees you, a love struck expression on her face. You would always respond with a kiss on her cheek, caressing the other with your hand.

You both were quite young, but old enough to know what love was, as both your parents were the examples you had to know about what love was.

Unfortunately, on one summer day, your parents had informed you of your move. Having to move away to another country. Away from Lia.

Your twelve year old self immediately ran towards her house, never needing to knock, straight towards her room, where you found her on her bed. She already knew it was you without having to look up, but once she did, she saw tears staining your cheeks.

“What’s wrong?”

“Papa said that we’re moving away. I don’t want to move away.”

All Lia could do is hug you tight and not let go.

When the time came, everyone promised that they would communicate and not lose contact of each other. It could be the first time in years that the best friends would no longer be together.

Lia gives you one last kiss and you hope it wouldn’t be the last.

You ended up in the United States, telling Lia through letters which you send through the post, Lia doing the same. But as the years go on, the letters eventually stopped when you were fourteen. You cried for a week straight, mourning what could be the ending of a beautiful friendship.

———

You were now thirty years old, who’ve accomplished so much and made a name for yourself. You became a professor at Stanford, teaching about the wonders of science, becoming quite popular to students.

Lia of course became a force in the world of football. You were never one for sports m, but you aren’t ashamed to admit that you’ve kept up with her career, cheering her on through the television.

It’s been sixteen years since your last contact with her, you don’t know whether she still remembers you or not, but she was someone you couldn’t exactly forget.

You did hear that the Arsenal women’s team would be playing a match in Los Angeles, so you asked for a few days off and made your journey all the way down.

You were lucky enough to get tickets close to the field. Watching Lia play in person for the first time was quite the experience. You cheered for her as loud as you could, cringing whenever she was tackled down.

Arsenal ended up wining 1-0 with an assist from Wälti. The team made their rounds around the stadium, thanking as much of their supporters as they can. You stayed in your seat, eyes following her as fans started filtering out, you being one of the last ones still there.

“Hello, Miss.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by security.

“Yes?”

“I was informed that I needed to escort you down to the locker room.” You didn’t really know what was happening, but you did follow him. “Just go right in there.” He points to a door.

You walk through the door to be met with the whole team of Arsenal, who quieted down once they saw you. You stand awkwardly in front of everyone as they stare at you.

“Hi, um, did you get lost?” Someone asked.

“Uh, I don’t think so? I followed some security person.”

“Hi, wife.”

You snap your head to the left so fast it could’ve given you whiplash. You turn you whole body to face her, her standing so close to you. Slowly, you lift your right hand to her cheek, caressing it with your thumb as she nuzzles into it, your lips finding its place on the other, the familiar gesture makes the midfielder starts to tear up.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“How could I forget our wedding under the maple tree?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“You know,” Lia began. “I’ve been waiting for the day I see you again.”

“How come?”

“Because I wanna make it real?”

“Make what real?”

“You being my wife.”

You and Lia were in your own bubble, completely forgetting about the rest of the team that surrounds you, who has never seen the love struck look on Lia’s face until now.

“What’s going on?” Caitlin asks, confused as the rest of the team is.

“This is my wife, and we’re gonna make sure it is not fake this time.”

At this moment, you felt like you were back in Switzerland, under the maple tree in her backyard, Lia by your side.

Two souls who lost their way, back together again.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #lia walti #lia wälti #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader

557 notes · View notes

thebitchesterbrothers · 3 months

Text

Dream of the Endless is the prince of a small but wealthy and beautiful country. He’s not the oldest child so the crown will go to his oldest sister Death when his parents are going to die or abdicate one day.

He’s not important enough to rule one day but still too known to live an ordinary life. He grew up sheltered in a golden cage with certain expectations from his parents to live by. So he’s not surprised when one day his parents invite possible suitors for a lucrative wedding.

From Dreams perspective they leave him no choice but to flee from his own birthday party where he’s supposed to be sold off to the highest bidder.

And while his furious parents are busy firing his bodyguards Dream wanders through parts of the capital he’s never seen before.

He’s so high on the feeling of finally feeling free and unobserved for the first time in his entire life that he doesn’t pay close attention to his surroundings when he turns the corner.

Stumbling right into the arms of Hob Gadling.

Hob, who had spent the last ten years traveling and living abroad before returning home to finally settle down, maybe start a family of his own.

Hob, who never really kept track of the drama and scandals of the royal family.

Who doesn’t know that the beautiful - but slightly socially awkward and uptight - man in his arms is the most desired bachelor of his native country. And his prince.

But what he knows is that love at first sight most definitely exists because there’s no way in hell he won’t marry this dream of a man.

Needless to say that Dream spends the next week in Hobs tiny and barely renovated flat above the Inn Hob had recently bought. Half of that time he spends in Hobs embrace, the other half in his lap. Dream refuses to let his new love out of sight, clings to him, afraid Hob might find out about his family heritage and will try to get rid of him, trying not to get in trouble for hiding - and deflowering - the prince.

But eventually, on the eighth day Dream confesses he’s the prince everyone is so desperately looking for. The prince who’s supposed to be married off to a proper and, most importantly, rich spouse.

So on the ninth day Hob and Dream say yes to each other in an old chapel by the river, the only witnesses the priest and a tiny black cat who Dream takes home afterwards.

On the tenth day the royal family finds them and Hob finds out what he’s got himself into.

But looking at his gorgeous husband next to him he decides it’s all worth it if he gets to live the rest of his life side by side with him.

#dreamling #dreamling fanfic #Dreamling fic ideas #hob gadling #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob x dream #morpheus x hob #the sandman #prince!au #prince!dream #commoner!hob #the sandman Netflix #please excuse any grammar mistakes #english isn’t my first language

254 notes · View notes

adore-laur · 5 months

Text

RENDEZVOUS

— a steamy flashback from the dadrry universe about harry as your fiancé 💍

——

After another shot of vodka went down the hatch, you still didn't qualify yourself as drunk. Tipsy was the more accurate feeling since every shot you had taken in the last ten minutes hadn't quite affected your bloodstream yet. The fifth one was being poured already. Or maybe the sixth. It didn't really matter since letting loose was what bachelorette parties were made for.

The event was being held in a small theatre in downtown San Francisco, occupied by you and your friends to celebrate the last few weeks before you officially became a married woman. A drag show was the extravaganza for the evening, and it was currently the intermission, so everyone was out of their seats drinking and catching up with each other.

You and Harry had needed a getaway amid the final phase of wedding planning. The both of you were staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the weekend, and it was nice to take a breather from the stress of the big day coming up. In the weeks leading up to the mini vacation, you had decided it would be perfect to have your bachelorette party in the scenic city. Most of your friends lived in surrounding areas, so you had sent the invites out and hoped everything worked out. It clearly did because everyone was buzzed and having the time of their life.

Your throat hurt from loudly cheering on the drag queens who had just performed. The tiara on your head with a tiny veil attached was slipping off, and the bride-to-be sash across your body was getting wrinkled, but you couldn't care less. Happiness and love exuded from your friends who had come to carouse with you.

Harry had proposed a little over a year ago after he cooked a fancy New Year's Eve dinner and led you to the backyard at midnight to get down on one knee, popping the question with shaky hands and watery eyes. You were incredibly thankful it hadn't been a grand display in public. It had been just you and him at home under the string lights, butterflies breaking loose in your stomach.

In planning the wedding, you had vowed to him that you wouldn't be a bridezilla. You'd allow him to have equal insight and let him completely take the reins regarding the food that will be served since it was his forte. Overall, the process hadn't been too draining. You worked well as a team, and he was always open to suggestions and last-minute changes of plans. The final touches would be put together once you came home from the trip. Then, it would finally be time to marry him.

"Did you leave Harry alone in the hotel room?" asked your friend, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he'll find something to do," you said. "He can never sit still for too long."

She carefully fixed your tiara. "When's his bachelor party?"

"Next weekend. He's having it at the restaurant he works at."

"Not at the strip club?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed. "He's mature enough to understand that I find it suspicious when guys go there for their bachelor party. Some call it their last night of freedom. How weird is that?"

You had nothing against strippers, but you thought it was reasonable that you'd rather have Harry spend his night somewhere else to celebrate his, you know, commitment to you.

"You're marrying such a gentleman. It makes me jealous," she said with a playful nudge. She wasn't wrong, so you just shrugged smugly and sipped your fruity cocktail.

Gasps and excited clapping suddenly stole your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the stage, watching the red velvet curtains draw back once again. Shuffling to your table, you smoothed down the back of your dress and sat.

The lights dimmed as people who worked at the venue began rolling a black piano onto the stage. You wondered what it would be used for since the drag queens earlier had strictly danced and lip-synced to music booming from the speakers. Other instruments were also being brought out — guitars, drums, and even a saxophone.

Growing more confused by the second, you turned around and stared at your friends around the room to see if they knew what was happening. All you received was mischievous smiles.

Before you could ask questions, you were abruptly pulled out of your seat and led to the front of the stage as people situated themselves by their respective instruments. You leaned into your friend and asked, "What's going on? This doesn't look like a drag show is about to happen."

She smirked and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Let's find out."

You didn't reply because the band started playing jazzy music as the stage lights turned on, revealing quite a modern setup for what you knew was definitely not a drag performance. A spotlight shone, and it began to move toward the left wings, where a silhouette of someone was waiting.

"Please give a warm welcome to Harry Styles!" introduced the saxophonist.

You just about choked on your Mai Tai.

Your vision finally focused on Harry as he strutted out wearing yellow trousers and a button-up under a suit jacket. A small mic was clipped to his collar, and you couldn't even begin to guess what he had planned tonight. He gave you no inclination that he'd be here. No subtle hints had been dropped in conversations with him, and no sneaky clues had been given by your friends. It was actually shocking, considering he was usually awful at keeping secrets.

Everyone cheered for him, whistles and encouraging hollers thrown his way as he held his arms out and walked toward center stage. You were too taken aback to join in as you watched him cut the band off with a gesture before facing the room with his hands behind his back.

Was his hair parted down the middle?

"Thank you, thank you," Harry greeted with a bow, his deep voice echoing throughout the theatre. "It is so great to be here hosting a bachelorette party for the first time."

Wow. He had jokes up his sleeve, apparently. Was he about to do a stand-up routine?

The applauding and praise continued as you shook your head in disbelief, letting a huge smile take over your face at the unexpected surprise.

"This is new territory for me," he said. I'm very excited to step back from my chef duties and do some comedy tonight."

There was no way he was going to do a comedy bit. You couldn't believe he crashed your party with a fancy suit and a routine ready to go. He was talking to your friend group in the audience like he was giving a Saturday Night Live monologue. You were going to lose it if he started playing the piano.

"You see, my fiancée and I go way back. We met about three years ago at a bar." He finally looked at you. "I ordered a lemon drop martini, and she ordered a strawberry margarita."

A stagehand brought out a clear martini and set it on the piano, and another one came down the stairs and placed a pink-colored margarita on your table. Your face heated at the simple yet thoughtful act.

"We talked for hours until I drunkenly asked her on a date. You know what she told me?" A plethora of whats were screamed from the crowd. "She said: Ask me when again you're sober!"

Everyone laughed, and you hid your face in your hands. That wasn't even a joke; you had genuinely said that to him. You were blown away he remembered such a tiny detail.

"Ultimately, I'm a very serious partner," Harry continued as he began sauntering toward the piano, "and nothing says serious partner like learning how to play the piano to impress my fiancée."

Taking a sip of your margarita, you glanced behind you. Some of your friends were recording him with their phones, and you were glad this could be something you could watch repeatedly.

Harry sat on the bench and exhaled. "Ooh, that feels good."

You had to wave one of the fans the drag queens gave out to cool down. He looked unfairly handsome, he was playing the goddamn piano, and he kept giving you secret looks that made you sweat.

"Now... I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not a boyfriend anymore." He stared straight at you. "I'm a fiancé now." Whistles from your friends caused him to proudly smile. "I'm also going to be dad," he casually blurted. "We're going to have a baby."

The entire room gasped, and you gaped at him with wide eyes. "We're not," Harry added after a short pause. "Wouldn't it be crazy if we were, though?" Your friends were now shaking you and battering you with questions. Harry smiled before his face dropped comically. "We're not."

He teasingly raised eyebrows and smirked at you as if to signify that you actually were pregnant, albeit you were drinking alcohol. Hopefully, everyone knew that you'd never be that stupid.

The girls were gawking at you, but Harry rolled his lips in and shook his head to remove the confusion. He continued playing the piano, and your cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He was doing such a great job, and you were genuinely trying to figure out how he had pulled all of this off.

"I love my fiancée; she's my best friend," he said smoothly. "She's hilarious, honest, caring, fuckin' beautiful" — he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows — "and, uh... good in bed." You rolled your eyes as he puckered his lips at you, more cheers filling the room.

"Yeah, that's right." He blew out a relieved breath. "I'm so grateful she doesn't live with her mother anymore."

"Oh my God, Harry!" you yelled with a surprised laugh.

It was a more private joke that no one understood fully, but it was funny nonetheless. You had used to live with your mother when you started dating Harry, and you always had to be quiet when he'd come over because his early twenties testosterone needed to be having sex with you at the most inconvenient of times.

He winked at you before resuming. "However, for me, it's not about how my fiancée is in bed, even though I'd consider myself very lucky in that department. It's about her soul and her heart. And in all seriousness," he added as the laughter died, "I truly believe her soul is my love language."

Coos and squeals echoed at his statement, and you shyly smiled. You were the one who had taught him about all the different love languages; he had told you once that he thought your entire soul was what his was.

"Maybe some of you aren't convinced I'm a serious partner. You may be asking yourself: Did he really take secret piano lessons to do this? Well, if in doubt, just ask the maid of honor."

Your head whipped toward your maid of honor, sitting several tables behind you. She waved with a proud smile, and you gasped when you realized he must've done piano lessons with her since you knew she had played the instrument for several years.

Harry hummed loudly while closing his eyes, bringing your attention back to him. "I love being here in San Francisco. So much history."

The band behind him cheered as Harry dramatically sipped his martini. You'd never seen him so in his element with something besides his job. The confidence in the delivery of his jokes, the comedic timing, the professional stage setup — it was something you'd never forget.

"I've learned so much this week. Here's a few secrets about the hotel we're staying at," he said gaily. "Did you know they gave us the haunted room because of how pale I am?" He shook his head with a boyish smile. "That is funny."

You chuckled at the awful joke because he actually was paler than usual. It was the end of January, and he hadn't gone outside much since it'd been cold and gloomy by the coast where both of you lived.

"The bed in there is so creaky that it sounded like that one night in Mexico!"

Shocked gasps and bursts of laughter rippled throughout your friends in the audience. It was a harmless joke about how you had all gone on a couples trip a while ago, and your friends had heard you and Harry getting down with it in the hotel room. It'd been terribly embarrassing.

Harry laughed. "Everybody thinks we're a couple that has a lot of sex. We don't; that's why she sleeps in a different bed than me at home."

Okay, now that wasn't true.

"Except tonight!" he shouted cheekily while pointing at you. "I mean, I think I'm just about ready to take her home with how she looks right now."

The girls at your table nudged you, and you began to get flustered. He was giving you that look again.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped playing the piano. "All jokes aside, thank you so much to everyone for celebrating with her tonight. You've all been wonderful friends over the years, and I can't wait to see you all at the wedding. It'll be terrifying, but I'm so ready. Also, thank you for bearing with my terrible jokes. Have a good rest of the night!"

You applauded along with your friends, some of them throwing leftover confetti from the drag performance earlier toward him. He brought his hands together and bowed politely as the band played a closing song.

Harry's cheeks were as pink as your strawberry margarita when he walked down the stairs with one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his suit jacket. He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile. Everyone stood from their seats to greet him, and the band came down holding bouquets of white iris flowers, passing them out to each of your friends.

You met Harry halfway and instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he tilted your head up for a messy kiss on the lips. He coaxed and smacked kiss after kiss out of you until your friends started making fake gagging noises from behind. He eventually pulled away and removed his hand behind his back to hold out a bountiful bouquet of red roses that matched the color of your dress.

"For my lovely fiancée." He gave you the bouquet and then turned your head so his mouth was by your ear. "I've got a taxi picking you up after this is done."

You nodded and ran your fingers across his stomach. "Sounds perfect. That was so incredible, Harry. And the piano? I'm impressed."

"It wasn't too much?" he asked, shyly rubbing a knuckle under his eyebrow. "Didn't know if you'd appreciate me crashing your girls night."

"Are you kidding? That was the best thing I've ever seen. I'm so proud of you."

Harry blushed, and you lovingly pinched his cheek. "Thanks. I was nervous because your friends always make fun of my jokes. I thought they wouldn't laugh."

"We were cracking up. You did so good," you complimented. "How did you keep it a secret from me? I had no idea."

"I'll never tell," he said with a cute shrug.

You lightly slapped his chest. "I'll get it out of you one day. Are you staying for the rest of the show?"

"It's your night, baby. Go enjoy it with your friends," he said. "I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You should stop by for a little rendezvous."

Your tipsy mind missed his attempt at a joke entirely. "We're staying in the same room, though."

"Bloody hell," he said with a laugh. "How much alcohol have you had?"

"Excuse me, not even a lot. Mind your business. I'm having a great time."

"I'm glad you're having fun. That makes me happy." Harry adjusted your tiara and then softly pecked the corner of your mouth three times. "I'll see you back in the room, okay?"

"For our rendezvous?"

"Our top secret rendezvous," he murmured against your temple. "Don't go around telling anyone, all right?"

"Sure thing," you replied while squeezing his sides. "You can go now."

An offended scoff escaped him, and he cradled the back of your head and leaned in. "Watch your mouth. I expect you to behave when you get back."

You puckered your lips and hummed contemplatively. "But it's my special day; you said so yourself. I can say whatever I—"

Harry cut you off by pressing his lips to your bottom one, biting it with his teeth before pulling back. "I love you so much, but that attitude isn't going to fly with me tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, dad."

"I'm leaving before this gets weird," he said with a smile. "Be safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything."

"Now you literally sound like a dad."

"Shush," he said. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

You pecked his lips one last time, tasting the sour lemon residue from his martini. "Love you."

"Have fun, ladies," he called out to your friends. "Take care of her, yeah?"

They all nodded, and Harry hugged you before heading to the stage to shake hands with the band. Soon after he was gone, the lights in the theatre dimmed again, and the curtains opened for the final portion of the show. You headed back to your seat feeling exceptionally giddy.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. Wigs, pop songs, and glitter invaded your brain, and now you were ready to return to the hotel. The tone he'd used earlier had made a shiver run down your spine. Low, insinuative, and almost impatient.

It was a tone that suggested you were in for a treat when you got back.

——

The key card swiftly slid into the slot. Two chirp-like beeps sounded, indicating that it was unlocked. Opening the heavy door, you stumbled inside the hotel room on the black heels you had already started to unclasp in the back of the taxi. There was confetti stuck to the bottom of them, and it nearly made you slip on the hardwood floors. That, and there was also a trail of rose petals and tea light candles weaving throughout the presidential suite that you didn't remember seeing when you had left earlier.

You giggled to yourself as you followed the trail to the bedroom. Oh, Harry. You had almost forgotten he was here.

When you walked through the doorway, the king-size bed came into view. So did your fiancé. Harry was sitting pretty on the silk sheets with a flute of champagne in his left hand as he looked out the window at the San Francisco skyline. He was wearing the same outfit from his surprise act not too long ago, but his hair had become messier, and his eyes were glassy from the bubbly liquid you noticed was already half gone from the bottle on the nightstand.

You crawled toward him on the bed, setting your bouquet down. "Hi. I'm back."

His gaze focused on you. He granted no response as his lips took a sip of the pale and fizzy drink he held so delicately, the gold engagement band on his ring finger gleaming from the moonlight illuminating the room. A low groan escaped his mouth when you straddled his thighs and applied pressure to his already hard cock. He wasn't saying anything, but you knew exactly what would get him to speak.

"What's got you so hard, baby?" you asked softly, tutting. "Were you thinking about me?"

His lips twitched as he finished the champagne and set it on the ground beside the bed. "Like you don't fuckin' know. Look at yourself, darling. It's honestly a shock that I wasn't on my knees for you at the theatre."

Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs. "I had a feeling you'd like this little number."

It had been a struggle to get through the door to leave since his touch had been all over you the second you put on the red satin slip dress.

"What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

Such a narcissist, you thought to yourself. You ground against him, and he let out a breathy moan. "I do. Apparently, no boxers are part of the get-up."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked. "I might have no boxers on, but there's something else you might find. Went and did some quick shopping while you were gone."

Your slowed thoughts tried to catch up to what he could have been hinting at. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?"

His large hands kneaded your ass. "Take a look."

He leaned forward and guided your hand to the button of his trousers. You quickly flicked it undone as he removed his suit jacket and began undoing the button-up. His body lifted on the bed so you could slide the garment off easier, and he hissed when it brushed past his cock.

Slowly but surely, his legs underneath were revealed, and your face heated to a thousand degrees.

Fishnet tights.

His leg hair and tiger tattoo peeked out from under the crosshatch material stretched tight against his skin. The redness of his cock looked painful from its restraint under them.

"I might've bought a little something too," you admitted as you scratched his skin through the thin fabric.

"Yeah?" He jerked his hips when your fingers grazed the head of his cock. "Show me, then. Go on."

You sat on your knees and lifted your dress to reveal the baby pink garter around your upper thigh. "It's your favorite color."

Harry licked his lips as his fingers delicately rubbed the lace. "I see that, sweetheart. Anyone particular on your mind when you bought it?"

"Was there anyone on your mind" — you snapped the waistband of his fishnets — "when you bought these?"

He bit his lip. "You're the only one I think of. The only one I would wear these for. I would crawl on my knees to you wearing them if that's what you wanted."

"Is that so? Quite the visual."

"I'll do it if you want me to." He paused, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "We can practice the garter toss for our wedding."

You made a noise of protest. "We are absolutely not doing that in front of our families. It'll be so humiliating."

"Don't have to because we can do it right now," he suggested. A nip was given to your neck before he climbed off the bed and grabbed a chair.

Your eyebrows arched. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing this the traditional way," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "Have to go under your dress and take it off."

"Will you be nice, or will you tease me?"

"Which do you prefer?"

You swung your legs over the bed and sat in the chair. "I prefer the way that gets you inside me as soon as possible."

"Well, I'll let you know once I'm between your thighs," he said, kneeling on the carpeted floor and gesturing his hands for you to spread open for him.

"No tickling, or I'm staying in another room," you warned as you slid off your heels and parted your legs.

Harry started crawling toward you with his tousled hair and day-old stubble, only wearing his fishnets and unbuttoned dress shirt. He never broke eye contact with you until he reached where you sat.

Your satin dress was then lifted over his head. You could instantly feel his hot breath against your legs, his lips grazing every patch of skin he could find. He left an open-mouthed kiss over your underwear that was already damp, and you moaned when his facial hair rubbed against your inner thigh.

You suddenly felt his teeth grab the garter as he pulled it down to your ankle. He took it off the rest of the way with his hand, bringing it over your shoe and moving out from under your dress. He stuck it between his teeth again and removed his button-up. Green eyes stared at you, and you clenched your legs under his intense stare. His tattooed torso was on full display. He was so, so beautiful.

Harry grabbed the garter and slid it on his bicep before saying, "Stand up."

You got up and switched spots with him, standing in front of him while he sat in the chair. He crossed his legs, thighs thickening even more under the fishnets. You walked over and parted them so you could straddle him. The chair was thankfully wide enough to where both of your knees fit on either side of him. You could almost feel his cock throb as you started desperately grinding against him to offer relief.

"Baby, slow down— shit, slow down," he said quickly, hands gripping your waist. "I need to last. You'll make me come right now if you keep doing that."

Slowing down, you took your time with each grind on his thigh. The pressure of the muscle felt like heaven as your core clenched around nothing. "Is that better?" you asked, raising your dress to see how his body reacted underneath you.

"Yes," he choked out, his neck straining. "Need to be inside you so bad."

"How bad?"

"So bad. I'm fuckin' throbbing for you. Please get on the bed."

You squeezed one of his balls through the fishnets, his hips bucking. "Where does it ache? Tell me how to make it better."

"Get on the bed," he gritted. "I'm not gonna ask again."

There was the dominance you wanted. You nipped his earlobe and crawled off his legs. He immediately stood, hissing as he palmed himself through his tights. You helped him take them off.

"Top or bottom?" he asked while closing the curtains. "My fiancée's choice."

"Neither. I want it from behind."

"Say less." He turned around, gripping his cock and squeezing it once. "On the bed. Now."

You quickly slipped your dress and underwear off and knelt on the bed, facing the headboard. Harry got in position behind you, his cock resting on your lower back. He moved your hair to one side and whispered, "On all fours."

You placed your forearms on the bed and arched your back so he had a good angle. "Open your mouth," he commanded. You tilted your head up and to the side as he leaned in to spit in your awaiting mouth. His saliva pooled on your tongue, and you swallowed it down willingly. "Good girl."

Harry then reached his arm out to hold onto the headboard. The engagement ring on his finger caught your eyes, as did his veiny hand that tightly gripped the burgundy wood.

The first thrust was divine. Searing pressure filled your walls, and Harry whimpered into your neck at your instant clench around his cock. He continued deeply thrusting into you as he took the garter off his arm and put it around your wrists so that they were restrained in front of you. Your hips burned. Harry's other hand squeezed your breast.

"Go faster," you said as his hand trailed down to your stomach, his long middle finger lightly grazing your clit.

He pounded harder, skin slapping as the headboard l creaked from the force. He was hitting all the deep spots, his pelvis meeting your ass each time. Your hands gripped the sheets when he glided his fingers up and down your dripping core. His head was nestled in your neck, muffled groans and pants leaving him when you pushed up your hips with each new thrust.

He removed his fingers that were coated with your arousal and spread his palm on your lower stomach. "Can you feel me there?"

You nodded fervently, crying out when a deep trust had you literally feeling him in your stomach. "Holy shit, Harry. I feel you. Please don't stop."

He pressed down and rubbed your stomach, the knot from your orgasm growing and bubbling up quickly. In one swift movement, he brought you to a sitting position as his cock continued stretching your wet walls. His thighs were touching yours, and you could feel them tense and tremble as you got closer, clenching hard around him.

"I'm gonna get your name tattooed on my thigh right here," he said, taking the garter off your wrists and moving one of your hands to touch his right thigh.

You were too submerged in ecstasy to reply to his random confession. A couple more thrusts had you blindly reaching back to grab his hand so you could come. He held it tightly as you unraveled, arching against him from the pleasure leaving you.

"That's my girl," he praised in your ear. "My love, my love, my love. So gorgeous, coming for me like this."

Your ears were ringing, and Harry eventually spilled inside you while you still clenched from your remaining orgasm. You felt his warm release shoot inside you, his hand still holding yours and his body falling on top of you as he groaned hotly against your cheek. Heavy breathing was coming from both of you. Harry finished coming but kept his cock inside you, throbs and twitches happening every so often.

"If we weren't engaged already," he started, "I'd propose to you right now because that... that was the best I've ever felt. Wow. My body feels all tingly."

You groaned, his dead weight on top of you making it hard to breathe. "Get off me. You're sweaty."

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach. The dim light illuminating the room and the perspiration glistening on his skin accentuated the carved outline of his abs, and you couldn't help but trace them with your fingertips.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Please."

He got up and carried you toward the bathroom. Everything in there was white marble, and the brightness hurt your eyes. The shower was small but comfortable enough to fit both of you. You already had taken one in the morning, but it would feel nice after a long, eventful night. It would also help you sober up as much as possible so you don't suffer through a terrible hangover tomorrow.

After laying down a towel and setting you atop the sink, Harry turned on the shower. He took off both of your engagement rings and then stood in front of the mirror. He inspected his stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

"Should I shave?"

"Why?" you asked with a sharp tone that had him immediately raising his hands in surrender.

"All right," he mumbled with a teasing smile. "Blimey, woman. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"What are you even saying?" you asked languidly. "I hate it when you speak old-timey British to me."

"Are you cheesed off at me now?"

"You're literally speaking gibberish." You hopped off the counter. "I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye."

Harry followed you and ducked under the hot water, trapping you in a hug from behind. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The soft skin of his stomach against your back had you melting into him.

"I don't want you to divorce me before we get married," he explained, kissing your jaw. "I'm just playing it safe."

"Harry, you're the only person who can annoy me and make me endeared at the same time."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," you replied, picking up the shampoo bottle you brought and handing it to him. "It makes me want to marry you right now."

He spurted a dollop of shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into your scalp with gentle and soothing motions. "I can't wait to marry you, either. Gonna treat you like a gentleman."

You lulled your head back, resting it on his collarbone. "You already do."

"I'll do it even more when I'm your husband, though. Make dinner for you every night and take you out on the town." He gravitated one hand to your stomach. "Give you so many babies."

"Not so fast," you interjected with a dreamlike smile. "No babies anytime soon."

Harry filled the shower cup with water and poured it over your sudsy hair. "I hear you. Just know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's get married first. I want you all to myself for a while."

"You always have me. That'll never change."

You turned him around so you could wash his hair next, opting for the same shampoo since he liked to steal it for himself anyway. After a prolonged yet comfortable silence, you asked, "Were you serious about tattooing my name on your thigh?"

"I'm dead serious," he replied. "I might even do it at my bachelor party. I work with a guy who's coming, and he does tattoos in his free time."

"But why on your thigh? Seems like a risqué place for it."

Harry turned his head and gave you a blank stare. "Would you rather me get it in a corny place like over my heart?"

You laughed, lathering shampoo in his curly hair. "No, not really. I guess you're right. It's kind of a secret spot for only us to know."

"Not unless I wear shorts all the time."

"Yeah, but thankfully, you wear pants every day at work. I don't want your coworkers to see that."

"Why not? I can't show you off anymore?" he teased, reaching back to pinch your side. "Wow, you propose to a woman, and suddenly she wants to be anonymous."

"Shut up," you muttered through a smile. "I honestly don't care. Just please don't get it inked in an ugly font."

Harry moved under the shower head, closing his eyes and slicking his hair back. "Well, it's a good thing I was going to ask if you'd write it out for me."

"Seriously?"

"No," he said in a deadpan manner, spitting out some water that had got in his mouth. "I'm thinking Comic Sans."

Poking the soft skin under his belly button, you said, "You think you're so funny now because you did a five-minute comedy routine."

He didn't provide a retort, but you saw him grin as he washed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. His nose was scrunched while he scratched his scalp and cleaned the foamy residue off his face.

After a peaceful moment of nothing but the sound of the shower water beating down, Harry opened his arms and brought you in for a hug. "I love you. You know that?"

You kissed his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and cradled your head with his hands. "It hit me that we're getting married in a month."

It had been hitting you as well. You'd been waiting so patiently for the special day to arrive. "I love you," you said quietly. Thank you for tonight and every night. You make life worth living."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

It fell silent as you stared longingly at each other with growing smiles. Harry slowly started getting closer to your face, his dimples carving deeper until his eyes crossed from how near he was. His forehead dropped against yours, and you rolled your lips in when he attempted to steal a kiss from you.

"How about another rendezvous, but this time we get in bed and fall asleep?" you suggested, reaching around him and shutting the shower off. Sporadic drips and exiting warmth greeted you.

He pouted. "Only if you kiss me."

"We've done enough of that today."

"You're really not gonna kiss your fiancé after I just told you I'd give you babies? That's dire."

You laughed and admired a water droplet cascade from his pointed nose. "If you blow dry my hair for me, I'll reconsider."

Flinging the shower curtain open, Harry yanked a fluffy towel from the hook on the wall, then gently wrapped it around your body before grabbing one for himself and tying it low on his hips. The blow dryer next to the mirror didn't have a long cord, so you sat on the counter for easier access and squeezed any remaining wetness from your hair into the sink. Meanwhile, Harry covered the top of his head with a towel. He looked like the Virgin Mary.

You gave him a comb, and he took the blow dryer with his other hand, turning it on and gesturing at you to ensure it wasn't too hot on your skin. For the next ten minutes, the sound of the loud dryer filled the space. It would have been a stressful sound in any other situation — trying to dry soaking wet hair from the pool before dinner reservations or untangling knots from yesterday's sleep. This time, it was relaxing. Domestic. A moment in time.

The soothing scratches Harry gave to your head as he combed through every citrus-scented strand could have put you to sleep. The hotel room's air conditioner was cold and crisp, but occasionally, he'd lower the dryer so it blew warm air on your arms.

Before you knew it, the dryer clicked off, and peaceful quietness surrounded you. Harry's hair dried much quicker than yours, so he took off the towel on his head and tied some of his damp curls up in a ponytail for the night.

His hands planted themselves on either side of your legs. "Kiss time," he whispered, his arms taut.

You slid off the counter, finding yourself trapped by his body—not that you minded. Grabbing his left hand, you raised it to your lips to kiss his ring finger, then put his gold engagement band back on.

"My mouth is up here."

You grinned. "And? What about it?" Harry annoyingly pushed his forehead into your cheek, grumbling something incoherently. You pushed it away and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," he repeated dramatically.

"What kind of kiss do you want?"

He once told you that he had favorites for different situations: a nip, tug, peck, tongue, or the type where you both smile so big that the kisses become messy and mixed with giggles. The latter was your personal favorite.

He hummed, his nose wrinkling as he pondered. "The one where you do all the work."

You laughed softly. It wasn't necessarily a joke he was making; he genuinely enjoyed it when your lips moved against his. Sometimes, he just wanted to be kissed silly. It was never awkward, nor did it feel like a chore. He was the most kissable person to roam the earth, so resisting was hard.

"Okay," you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Only for a little bit, though. I'm exhausted."

Harry nodded and lifted you, setting you on the counter again. Your legs circled around his hips. "I'll return the favor tomorrow," he said.

The towel on his waist was hanging on for dear life. His eyelids were lazily drooping from tiredness, and his skin was flushed from the steam. How could someone look so pretty in hotel bathroom lighting?

Your hand on his cheek gently guided him to your mouth. His lips were damp and plush from the shower, parting naturally with each of your doting kisses. With his nose nudged against yours, pleased hums came from his throat as you alternated between his top and bottom lip. Kissing him never got old. It could be soft or rough, long or short, brought about by love or annoyance. It was a cure all the same.

After a slow and innocent onslaught of kisses, you pulled away before you ended up making out with him until morning. Bruised, aching lips could wait.

Harry whined in protest. "That was only, like, five seconds."

"Guess what?" You trailed your fingertips along his neck. "You have the rest of your life to kiss me."

He yawned while shaking his head. "That's not enough time. Give me forever."

"I'll try," you said fondly, sliding your engagement ring back on.

You would until children of your own were born and required you to share that love. Until your children's children withdrew even more of it. Yet, despite that, Harry would always be the first person you had given your heart to completely. He had never taken advantage of it. He had never made you doubt his love for you. It was the kind of love that was immortal. It would never die out and would remain the greatest feeling you'd ever felt in this life and the next.

If evermore was attainable, you liked to believe it was made possible by loving him.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #rendezvous #adore-laur

271 notes · View notes

kaiyaamin · 3 months

Note

Can you make a Batmom story where she gets kidnapped and brainwashed by the joker?

YOU'RE STILL IN MY HEART!

She opened her eyes feeling the bright light hit her. She looked around for a second taking in her surroundings, she was definitely in a hospital because of the hideous clothes she was wearing and all the tubes and sorts. She saw two kids sitting on the chairs sleeping peacefully.

She slowly got out of bed, gently walking towards one of the boys. Shaking his shoulder, suddenly he woke up and gazed at his mother. Mom, are you okay, how are you? wait no you need to get back into bed, she was confused about why on earth this boy called me her mom. Umm sweetie I am not your mother and actually where are your parents? What the fuck was Dick's face at this moment. Did his mother just forget who he was, panicked he woke up Damian. What do you- UMMI are you okay, I was so worried. But to his surprise, she just stared at him.

She called the nurse and asked for the children to be taken to their real parents, but the nurse only said wait a moment a returned with a man. Y/N was relieved but for the wrong reason, Excuse me sir, but your kids keep calling me mom and I don't find that appropriate. Now Bruce was even more confused, Honey what are you talking about? Moving closer to her only for her to step back. She claimed she didn't know who he was, Bruce tried to explain that they were married and these were their kids Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. But all she said was why would I named my child Dick?, this made Dick not happy, and refused to say anything after this humiliation.

They took her to Wayne Manor where she was astonished that she even lived here. Alfred had hoped for Mrs.Wayne to be alright but was hurt by the discovery of her loss of memory. Their children especially Jason wanted to take revenge on the Joker but because of Batman no killing rule he couldn't kill him but theirs no rule for torture.

Bruce decided that he would sleep in the guest room tonight till his wife was comfortable. Jason volunteered to take to her room, helping her up the stairs to her room. Jason didn't take the news well, he was always a mama boy and would always say he loved mom more than dad (it was true).

A few hours later it was time for dinner usually Y/N would ask how everyone's day was but she just sat in silence playing with her food. It was awkward, to say the least, Tim felt all emotions when looking at his mother but was especially sad she didn’t even glance at him or care he was drinking coffee at night in front of her. But to everyone's dismay, she left sitting on the couch staring off into the distance. Guys, why don't we show her some pictures and tapes of us together, she will surely remember, Damian had said to bring our hopes up. It was worth the shot, Bruce exclaimed getting up along with Alfred to get everything ready.

They set up everything with the utmost perfection, they all gather around the TV ready to show their mom everything.

Dick was the first one to show. Good morning everyone it is currently 7:30 am, and we're here to wake up little dickie for his 11th birthday, his mother said next to her was his dad. Honey were probably watching this- only to be interrupted by his wife shushing him. Bruce aimed the camera towards their son laying their drooling on his pillow. Alright, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! They screamed together only to cause Dick to fall off his bed and onto the floor but he quickly recovered hugging his parents and blowing out his candles. What did you wish for Dick? Y/N asked hoping her son would give some hints but he only kept his mouth shut stuffing himself with the chocolate cake. Best birthday Ever!! Dick said with a toothy grin with cake all over his mouth.

Seeing this brought very vague memories but it was very slowly coming back. It looked so perfect, they were so perfect. Bruce looks over at his wife seeing something spark within her deciding to move on to Jason's video.

Batmom was holding the camera with excitement all over her face. Can you believe this, it's my baby bird's first Prom suddenly she started crying like a child not ready to let him go. Jason hugged his mother wearing a fancy black suit with his hair styled nicely looking like a prince. Mom, don't cry I will always be your baby bird no matter what, trying to calm his mother down by rubbing her shoulders. You better keep your promise, Y/N said in a threatening tone. She took many pictures of Jason and his date together before they were off in the limo. Their Y/N was hand in hand with her husband reciting all their Prom memories together sharing heartfelt laughs.

It was Tim's graduation video next, It shows Y/N and Bruce holding flowers and a poster saying congratulations on getting out of school, with excited grins. Finally, Tim's name was called with honors only to be interrupted by his mother screaming and shouting that's my son! Tim had made valedictorian and boy was Y/N proud of her Timmy. She took many videos, silently remembering to brag about this to the other moms. Tim ended his speech with a final thank you to his parents, especially his mother. Ohhh Bruce, did you hear that? he thanked me for his accomplishments, crying and sobbing at the same time. Many people turned around but the Bat family did not care with proud grins on their faces. Everyone later congratulated Tim with his mother repeatedly kissing his forehead and hugging him so tight.

Tim watched the video remembering everything that happened that day after they went to his favorite restaurant with a giant cake his mom ordered just for him. He couldn't hold back his tears and hugged his mom and to his surprise, she hugged him back just as tight with tears in her eyes.

next was Damian video, It was Christmas day, and all the children raced down the stairs to open their presents. It was also Damian first Christmas with the Bat family. Ok, kids since it is Damian's first Christmas with us he will open his presents first, Batmom said handing her son his first gift with an excited grin. Damian and the rest of the kids heard Meow Meow, Damian ripped to wrapping paper off the box opening it to find a cute small black kitty cat. Damian was ecstatic hugging his Ummi and father. What are you going to name it? bruce said with a lace of curiosity in his voice. I vote Demon spawn, Jason shouted only to receive a murderous glare from Damian. I am going to name it Alfred the cat, Damian said. I guess we have Alfred the first, Y/N said while pointing at Alfred who was sipping his tea. And Bruce finishes and says Alfred the second while holding the adorable cat.

All the kids looked over to see their mother crying with tears streaming down her eyes ruining her mascara not like she cared. All her babies ran to her including Bruce hugging her tight trying to stop the tears. Oh kids, I remember and I am so sorry I have forgotten but looking at you all, you make me so proud. Now it wasn't just Y/N who was crying but everyone was even Alfred shed a tear, Come on Alfred join us, Y/N said pulling Alfred in the hug and not letting him reply. It was perfect, they were perfect no matter how chaotic her family gets they will always have each other no matter what.

#batfam x batmom #batfam x reader #batman #bruce wayne x reader #batmom #batmom imagine #batmom!reader #batmom imagines #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #damian al ghul #batman and robin #bruce wayne #bru

182 notes · View notes

daysofyellowroses · 1 month

Text

beef

carmen berzatto x reader | 900 words | based on this very lovely request | no real warnings, just pretty damn cute if i do say so myself 🫶🏻💗🌼

In the sanctuary of your own thoughts, you can admit that when you were first getting ready to plan your wedding with Carmy, you were..nervous.

Not because you didn't want to get married, you were over the moon when Carm proposed. It felt like the perfect next step in your relationship, and being engaged was such a wonderful feeling.

But of course, you had to begin wedding plans eventually. Suffice to say, when you have a fiancé who's prone to stress and panic attacks, planning the biggest day of your lives is never going to be easy.

Except..it was?

Okay, it wasn't entirely 100% smooth sailing but for the most part..it was actually enjoyable.

Maybe it was something to do with you and Carm not wanting a typical huge wedding, maybe it was that everyone in your lives sensed the stress that could happen and stepped in to help. You liked to think it was a little from column A, a little from column B.

You were determined to keep things as close as possible to what you and Carm wanted, the plans you'd casually talk about while making dinner or relaxing on the couch watching TV.

Of course having your friends and family be involved was incredible, and you and Carm appreciated their support and ideas, but there were some nights you had to turn your phone on silent, unable to look at another suggestion for a venue, or dress, or a cake, or a DJ.

As it turned out, you found the perfect location when you weren't even trying. It was a random weekday that you and Carm had decided to take off, wanting to switch off from everything for a while and just enjoy each other's company. At someone's suggestion, you couldn't remember which of you had said it, you ended up at the botanic garden. It was so peaceful and beautiful, and walking around hand in hand with the love of your life, surrounded by colorful flowers and laughing at stupid jokes and stealing kisses made your heart soar. That evening, when another venue was suggested, you and Carm both looked at each other before you replied that you'd already found the perfect one.

Food was obviously a big part of your wedding plans, and you weren't sure why you were surprised that Carm and the bear crew insisted they could take care of it. You had hoped you'd at least have Syd on your side, but you were forced to take a stand on your own. It wasn't that you didn't want them all making the food, obviously it would be delicious, it was more a case of..you wanted them to be involved in the wedding in a different way, not just to be working as they always did.

You wanted them to be bridesmaids and ushers, to read poems and be in your wedding pictures. You wanted to dance with them all night, take shots, and stuff yourself with desserts. What you didn't want was for them all to be too exhausted to do any of that. In the end, you agreed that Carm could choose what would be on the menu, he just couldn't make it. One day off wouldn't kill him.

The guest list was surprisingly one of the easiest parts of the wedding plans. You and Carm both agreed you didn't want to invite great aunts you'd met once as a toddler or your entire kindergarten class, so you settled on family and friends who you were actually close to and wanted to celebrate with. You ended up with under hundred invites, just, but it felt like a little victory.

The dress..was not your favorite part, if you were honest. The dream of walking into a store, finding a dress, buying it and putting it aside for the wedding was dashed quickly when you were dragged into several bridal stores. It was am experience, sure, but standing in your underwear while an old woman squinted at you before hauling a dress over you was not ideal. You didn't want some huge Disney princess gown, and you weren't going to spend thousands on a dress you would wear once. In the end, you found a dress on a random website one night, sending the link to Syd and immediately buying it when she said she loved it. $150 and with some sneaky tailoring it could be worn again, that was definitely a victory.

By the time you'd got your dress, the wedding seemed to be closer than ever. Spring had seemed so far away when you'd gotten engaged, but when the air felt warmer and the leaves were coming back onto the trees, you felt an excitement that it was really happening, you would wear the dress and stand in a beautiful garden in front of everyone you loved and tell Carm you would always be by his side.

Because that was what it was all for.

When you woke up at two in the morning in a panic that you'd forgotten to book a photographer/DJ/makeup artist, Carm was there to reassure you it was all okay, everything was under control. When you would be sitting on the counter listening to him tell you about his day, watching him smile to himself, when you would be laying on the couch watching TV and his hand would just gently stroke your arm or your waist or your hair.

There was never a doubt in your mind about marrying him, and through all the planning, that was what you focused on.

And when the big day finally came, you knew you couldn't have planned it any better when you were standing side by side with the man of your dreams, ready to take the next step.

#the bear #the bear 🐻#the bear fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #request #this was beyond fun to write #🌼💗🫶🏻#spot the simpsons reference

119 notes · View notes

edmundspevensea · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

in which connor is left to pick up the pieces after losing y/n.

warnings; death (mentions suicide and mental health issues), connor having to grow up quickly, grief

based off of last words of a shooting star by mitski

all of this turbulence wasn't forecasted, apologies from the intercom

and i am relieved that i left my room tidy

they'll think of me fondly when they come for my things

Time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

Connor sat in the driver's seat of his 2008 Honda Civic, his eyes focusing on the neighborhood road in front of him. Christmas lights were shining brightly all around him, but the boy's heart and mind didn't reciprocate the brightness surrounding him. Instead, his soul was sad as he looked up from the road, his eyes meeting your childhood home. The same childhood home in which you and Connor first met.

A five year old Connor stood nervously at your doorstep, his light brown hair blowing mindlessly in the wind. His arms were loaded with a tray of cookies that his mom had made. Your family had recently moved to North Vancouver from what the Bedards presumed was the United States, seeing as an American flag was displayed above your garage. As your new next door neighbors, his mom took it upon herself to welcome you to the neighborhood, and there was no better way to do so than a five year old with cookies.

The door swung open and Connor was met with a woman, who he later learned was your mom, and you, his newfound best friend. From then on, you and Connor became inseparable.

The same childhood home in which you and Connor had late night conversations through cup phones.

Funnily enough, Connor soon learned that his bedroom was exactly across the way from yours. What began as small waves to each other when you both realized the other was in their room, quickly turned into both of you cracking your windows open to have full-fledged conversations with each other. As the years went by and you and Connor grew older, you decided that that wasn't enough, and brought it up with Connor that night before going to bed. The next morning, you woke up to a cup phone sitting on your bedroom desk, and a long piece of yarn attached to it. It didn't take long for you to discover that the cup lead to Connor's room. It did, however, take a little while to discover a note that Connor had left for you.

"you left your window open, so i figured there was no better time to do this. i spent all night finishing this - i even drew a dog on your cup because i know you like them so much! - connor".

The same childhood home in which you and Connor realized you loved each other.

Now teenagers, it was evident that there was something going on between you and Connor. However, it seemed as if everyone but the two of you were aware of it. Both his mom and dad and your mom and dad had sworn that the two of you were going to grow up and get married, and his sister always claimed that she would be the maid of honor, but both you and Connor swore that the two of you were only best friends, and that's all that you guys would ever be.

However, that all changed the morning of your 16th birthday. Connor had turned 16 a few months prior, and he spent the days leading up to it driving around town to acquire the decorations needed to decorate. The night before your 16th, you and Connor had planned a sleepover. Little did you know, however, that while you were fast asleep in one of Connor's Regina Pats t-shirts, he had spent another night wide awake for you, just to decorate his kitchen in order to surpise you.

When you woke up the next morning, Connor was nowhere to be found in his sleeping bag on the floor (the boy let you take his bed so you'd be more comfortable, and despite your protests, he insisted). Confused, you got out of bed, and were immediately hit with the soft sound of music and the crackling of bacon. You softly smiled to yourself as you made your way down the stairs, expecting to be met with Mrs. Bedard, but instead, you found Connor hunched over the stovetop, grilling the bacon.

His hair was disheveled and he was wearing his favorite Regina Pats hoodie, gray sweatpants adorning his legs. You stood there for a bit before making your presence known, snaking a hug around Connor's waist as you noticed all of the decorations around you, "Happy birthday, sunshine."

You let out a soft gasp as you took in the sight around you, your eyes admiring all of the work Connor had put in just for you. He smiled as your eyes twinkled in excitement, mentally celebrating to himself as he realized how much you loved everything, "Connor, you shouldn't have... this is amazing, thank you. I don't think anything can make this day better."

His smile grew even bigger, which he didn't know was even possible. As you went around the kitchen to admire the decorations up close, Connor went back to cooking the bacon. The random playlist he had on shuffled through a few songs, and soon landed on 'At Last' by Etta James. You grinned, heading over to Connor.

"Con, I think I have found something that can make this day better."

"And what is that?" "Dance with me."

Connor didn't protest. Instead, he turned around and placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist, and the two of you began to slow dance around the kitchen to the soft voice of Etta James. Despite no words being exchanged between the two of you, both you and Connor could feel the love you had for each other. After all, love understands love - it needs no talk.

The same childhood home in which you eventually took your life.

Connor knew you were struggling. From the moment he had met you, he had the ability to read you like an open book. So when you became quieter shortly after your sweet sixteen, he became concerned. At first, you tried to blame it on stress from school and extracurriculars in an attempt to reassure him, but Connor could see right through you. He knew you were hurting, but what he didn't know was that you were never going to recover from this pain.

Although Connor wasn't home all the time, he would send you encouraging text messages every morning and would talk with you every night on the phone, for hours on end, though your cell phones couldn't compare to the cup phones that still hung between your guys' bedroom windows. He even asked his parents and Madi to keep a closer eye on you when he was gone.

He was in Regina when it happened. His parents had come to see him play against the Everett Silvertips, and were planning on staying for the weekend to catch up with him. His day was going great, and he didn’t think anything could have ruined it. That was until after the game, when he had tried to call you - multiple times - to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. Each and every time he called, he was met with your voicemail. A pit of concern was growing in his stomach, but he tried to settle it by convincing himself that you had fallen asleep and we’re okay. When he had gotten back to his apartment after the game, however, the worry in his stomach only grew when he saw his parents sitting on his couch, both teary-eyed.

“Connor…” he made eye contact with his mom, who could barely hold herself together. Somehow, he had put the pieces together - it was about Y/N, and it wasn’t good - but he still felt the need to ask about her before jumping to conclusions.

“Y/N’s fine, right? She’s just sleeping, or driving, which is why she’s not answering any of my calls?” Connor asked warily, his voice shaky. His mom only cried harder at her son’s question and his dad sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Connor hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his eyes glassy, his head shaking in disbelief, “She’s not… she’s not dead, right? She can’t be.”

“She’s gone, Connor,” his dad replied, his heart breaking at the state his son was already in, “Her mom called us a bit ago. She committed suicide.”

“No!” Connor shouted, his mouth curving into an upward smile of pure shock, “You’re lying to me! Y/N’s not dead, she can’t be!” he pulled out his phone again and began to dial her phone number, “If I call her right now she’ll answer me. She was just taking a nap!”

Immediately, Connor’s mom got up to hug him and at that moment, he knew she was gone. His best friend, his love, the one person who knew him more than anyone else in the entire world, was gone. He dropped his phone and let out a blood-curdling scream, falling to his knees as his mom tried to keep up with him. His dad joined his wife and son on the floor as the the three Bedards grieved together, knowing they would never again get to see sweet and beautiful Y/N Y/L/N.

Your funeral had been the hardest part for Connor. There wasn't much crying during the actual procession, except from him. As your dad, his dad, Kent Johnson, Tanner Hayes, your cousin and him were carrying your casket down the aisle of the church, tears rolled down the young boy's lightly-freckled cheeks like a flowing waterfall.

During your actual burial, however, things were the exact opposite, Connor felt numb, and couldn't process that you were actually gone. However, the others realized that they would never, ever hear your voice again. They would never again get to see your smile, or hear your contagious laugh. Madi and Mrs. Bedard shook in each other's arms, trying their best to comfort one another. Your mom trembled as your dad rubbed her back softly. A group of your cousins all huddled together in a heartbreaking group hug. Connor’s dad really tried his best to hold it together for everybody else, but when he saw the casket being lowered into the ground, he broke. You had been like a daughter to him. He pretty much knew that his son was going to grow up to marry you. Mr. Bedard collapsed to the ground on his knees, his heart breaking more and more each second. But then there was Connor - absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever. He couldn't feel anything.

Here Connor was, sitting in his car a year later. The Blackhawks had given him a break to be with family during this time, specifically after Nick Foligno had seen how broken the kid was over the situation. He could see your mom and dad having dinner through the window, but he knew it wasn’t the same. They had left an empty chair, plate and silverware out on the table for every meal after you had left.

The cup phones were still hanging between his bedroom and yours. Connor didn’t have the heart to take them down - if they remained up, the two of you would still be connected in some way, and although that way wasn’t ideal, it was better than nothing.

The American flag was still up, but by now was joined by a Canadian one as well. Things were different now, but not for the better.

Connor reached over to his passenger seat, in which sat a gift-wrapped box. Your parents had given it to him on Christmas Day last year, explaining that it was the gift that you were going to give him that day. He thanked them kindly, but didn’t have the heart to open it. He needed some more time before he could face the memories of you again.

He was finally ready. Connor wiped off some dust particles from the year old wrapping paper before carefully moving to untie the bow of ribbon on top of the present - it was your signature move. When he managed to unwrap the wrapping paper and open the box, tears came to his eyes immediately.

A handmade blanket was revealed to him. In the very center, the fabric of his old Regina Pats t-shirt - the one you were wearing when you guys realized you loved each other - was revealed, and ‘Bedard - 98’ was written across. Another square of fabric was a piece of your baby blanket, on which your warm scent still lingered. Connor gripped the blanket close as if he was physically holding you in his arms, as if you were physically here with him.

For the first time in a year, Connor allowed himself to grieve. He missed you so much, and desperately wished you were back in his arms, but finally realized that the world goes on. Once again, time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

For awhile, Connor thought he could’ve saved her. He thought his love for her was enough to show her the beauty and goodness of the world which can so often be cruel. Connor loved Y/N in many ways, and the fact is that the blue-eyed boy could've loved her in an infinite number of ways, but really, he could've never loved her in a way that was enough to make her stay.

That’s just something Connor Bedard would have to live with for the rest of his life.

an; merry christmas and happy holidays i guess???

#nhl #connor bedard #connor bedard x reader #chicago blackhawks #kent johnson #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #nhl imagines #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagines #chicago blackhawks imagines #don’t be fooled i hate the h*wks but love connor #merry christmas i guess

229 notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 5 months

Text

You Do.

Conrad Fisher x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating

Conrad wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for today. No amount of preparation would ever prepare his heart for a sight like this. The sight of you getting married.

He’d envisioned the day countless times. Running it over and over in his mind. The way you’d look in your dress, the look on your face as you walked down the aisle, the sight of you surrounded by everybody that you loved.

But in every single time Conrad had ran it through his mind, it had always been him at the end of the aisle.

And that wouldn’t be the case today.

In fact, he’d be sat just a few rows back watching you marry a man that had given you everything that it seemed he couldn’t.

It was just over a year ago when he’d been told you were engaged, overhearing the excitement from Belly over the phone as you’d facetimed her with the news. He’d been at the Cousins house with the rest whilst you’d been on holiday with your then-boyfriend. And he was sure then that his heart had broken irreparably. He’d told you a faint congratulations, drowned out by the noise of the others.

It was a little over two years before that when he’d initially found out you had a boyfriend. You’d come back from college and had come to stay with them in Cousins, having been Belly’s best friend since school. He’d overheard you telling Belly about this boy you’d been seeing, how he was romantic and he’d bought you flowers and already asked you to meet his parents. Belly had hugged you and told you that she was happy you’d found someone good. Conrad knew what she really meant; she was happy that you’d moved on from him. He’d pretended he hadn’t overheard the conversation that day. But your boyfriend had come to visit two weeks later and Conrad finally had to accept that he’d lost you.

Truthfully, he’d lost you long before that. The summer before, in fact. The two of you had known each other for years - since the first time Belly had brought you to stay with them over summer. He’d made fun of you and made sarcastic comments and annoyed you and bickered with you. But, when it was just the two of you, he was sweet and he listened to you and you two would stay up talking until the hours all seemed to blend together. Conrad knew that you liked him. And, for a long time, you thought that he could like you too. He’d even kissed you one night when the two of you were awake after everyone else. You’d started dating in secret then, stepping away from the group whenever you got a chance, staying up late for the affection you couldn’t show in front of the rest of the group. For that entire summer the two of you were inseparable. You’d left after that summer and things still hadn’t changed - Conrad would come to visit you or you’d both drive to Cousins to spend a few days together. When thanksgiving came around, you’d told Belly you’d come with her to stay with the Fishers in Cousins again. And that’s when things changed.

You’d gone to a party a few streets away. He’d told you quietly that you looked pretty before you’d all left, quiet enough that nobody else had heard. He’d got a drink for you and asked if you were okay on your own for a minute. He was sweet and thoughtful and reassuring and, for a moment, you thought that this had all meant something to him too. Only an hour later had you seen him kissing another girl outside in the yard. You’d left fighting back tears that night, booked yourself onto the next bus out of Cousins, and left the following day. You’d convinced yourself that you could have forever with Conrad, and you’d decided that day that you’d never let yourself fall for his games again.

And so he’d lost his chance that day, and lost you with it.

And, now? He was stood in front of a mirror re-doing the same bowtie he’d already fixed three times this morning.

“Con? We need to go,” Jeremiah pokes his head around the door frame to his brother’s room, glancing inside, “Are you ready?”

Conrad glances over, dragging a hand through his growing hair, “Yeah, I’ll be there now. Do you want me to drive?”

Jeremiah laughs, “I think you’ll need a drink to get through today, I’ll drive.”

He knew his brother had never gotten over you, and part of him knew he never would.

———

It was a beautiful venue - an old church in the next town over from Cousins. There was a sign outside with ‘Mr and Mrs Lewis’ in calligraphy, the same lilac color Conrad knew that you’d picked for your bridesmaids. They’d got here early because the boys had promised they’d keep Stephen company whilst his Mom and Belly were busy helping you get ready.

“Thank god you guys are here!” Stephen breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Conrad and Jere walk through the door to the church.

It was completely empty, almost eerie in its silence only an hour before the service.

“Apparently it’s been going wrong all afternoon,” Stephen shakes his head, “We got stuck in traffic on the way here, and by the time we got here (Y/n) already hated her makeup and her hair wasn’t going right and… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel much like a wedding yet.”

Conrad stuffs his hands into the pockets of his trousers, taking one out to shake a hand through his hair.

“You doing okay, man?” Stephen glances at him, scrunching his face as if he’s dreading the response.

“I’m good.”

Before either of them can tell him that he’s lying, a door from the back of the church bursts open and Belly emerges through. She stops when she sees the boys.

“Hey! I didn’t even know you guys were here,” She breathes a sigh of relief, hurrying over with her dress bunched at either side in her hands.

They were a pale lilac, silk with thin straps on either shoulder. You had Belly, Taylor and your fiancé's sister as your bridesmaids. Belly was maid of honor.

“How’s it going?” Jeremiah wraps his arms around her cautiously to avoid messing her appearance, kissing the side of her head.

“It’s…” She pauses and glances over at Conrad, “I think (Y/n)’s just a bit overwhelmed.”

Conrad feels a lump form in his throat, like he’s fighting the urge just to seek you out and do anything he could to make you feel better.

“Are you doing okay?” Belly asks him softly.

He laughs gently, scratching at the back of his neck, “Seriously guys, stop asking me that.”

“Can you blame us Conrad? I mean everyone thought you’d end up with-“

“Stephen!” Belly hits at her brother, shaking her head before turning back to Conrad, “I think she’ll be really glad you’re here Con.”

Conrad nods, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Okay, I should go back,” Belly takes a deep breath, “Jason should be arriving soon with the groomsmen so please be nice.”

None of the boys were the biggest fan of Jason. He was fine but he was just… fine. They never really knew what to talk to him about, or if they had anything in common with him. He didn’t really have the same sense of humor as they did and they always thought he took himself too seriously. But he was nice to you, they’d at least give him credit for that.

They didn’t know everything, however. Jason had cheated on you about four months before he’d proposed. It was harmless, supposedly - meaningless. You’d stayed at Belly’s for a few nights after that and made her promise not to tell anyone. But he’d convinced you to come home, to come back to him. He’d made you dinner and bought you flowers and convinced you once again that he could be good again.

You’d hoped every day since then that you’d made the right decision. But the truth was, you couldn’t imagine breaking your heart again in the same way it had broken when you’d left Conrad. And so here you were. Praying this marriage would stop your heart from ever breaking again

———

It wasn’t long after that when people would start showing up. Jason was stood at the end of the aisle with his groomsmen, greeting guests as they walked through. Conrad was sat a few rows from the front, shaking his knee in his seat beside Jere. Every so often, his head would flick back towards the same door that Belly had come through as if you would be coming through any minute.

“Con,” Jeremiah places a hand on his brother’s knee to stop it from shaking, “Stop looking, you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

Conrad glances back towards his brother and feels the lump form back in his throat, “I-“

Jeremiah furrows his brows, praying that he had any words good enough for the moment.

“I can’t do it Jere,” Conrad’s voice breaks when he says the words, “I can’t lose her.”

“Con…” Jeremiah sighs, his shoulders dropping.

“I can’t lose her,” Conrad repeats, shaking his head as his voice comes out dry and hoarse.

“Conrad,” Jeremiah shakes his head, “Look at where we are.”

Conrad feels the weight of reality bear down on his chest, the realisation of what was about to come.

“You’ve already lost her,” Jeremiah states, “Now’s the chance to let her be happy.”

Con knew his brother was right. It was now seven minutes before the ceremony was meant to start. And the reality was that Conrad had lost you way before today, before this year, before your engagement, before everything. He hadn’t lost you because of Jason. He’d lost you because of himself.

“Um,” Conrad wipes his hands on his trousers, “I’m going to get some air.”

“Conrad…”

Jeremiah calls behind him but it gets drowned out by the sound of the blood coursing through his ears, and an undeniably pull in his heart that was drawing him to you.

———

Conrad circles around the back of the church, letting the nerves in his body start to settle as soon as the fresh air hits his clenching lungs.

He wasn’t sure of a single part of him that could do this, and the more he thought of it, the more his chest seemed to tighten and contort. He wasn’t about to watch you get married, watch you say ‘I do’ to a man that wasn’t him, watch you confess your love for someone that he could never be. And, even all of these years later, he hoped that a little bit of you still felt that same love you’d both felt all of those years ago - that a little part of you still held onto him in the way he wanted to hold onto you.

He circles back around and loses track of his path, stepping in through one of the doors as a breeze sweeps over the grounds of the church. Conrad rubs his hands together to bring them some needed warmth, glancing around at the room to realise he didn’t know where he’d walked into. He turns on his heel to walk back outside and that’s when he hears it.

“Con?”

All at once, every ounce of tension in his body seems to dissipate. And he turns back around to follow the sound of the words now coming from behind him.

There you are. In a room he didn’t recognise was a girl he’d simply never forget.

You were exactly like a thousand thoughts of you would make him imagine - beautiful in the most simple terms. Your hair was pinned back but curls fell in locks around your face. Your dress hugged your torso, with lace sleeves, your shoulders and chest exposed, material airy and flowing around your legs.

“Wow… you…” He’s breathless, like every ounce of life had been knocked from him, “You…”

There are tears in his eyes when he speaks, like the sight of you alone was simply overwhelming.

“Thank you,” You interrupt softly, smoothing a hand over the torso of your dress, “What are you doing here Conrad?”

“I just,” He glances behind him at the door that’s now shut behind the two of you, “I just went for some fresh air and I must’ve come the wrong way.”

You nod, “Well, you better get back to your seat, you’re going to be late.”

Conrad smiles gently, “Aren’t you going to be late at this rate too?”

You look down to the floor and clear your throat. For a second, he thinks you’re about to respond, but your words seem to escape you.

“(Y/n)?” Conrad dips his head to try and catch your eyes, “Are you okay?”

You look up at him and your lips part like you’re about to speak, “I…” Something switches back in you then, as if you’ve just slightly reset, “I think I’m just nervous.”

Conrad laughs gently, “(Y/n) (Y/l/n) is never nervous.”

“Yeah, well, she’s never got married before today,” You roll your eyes at him, holding both hands over your stomach that seemed to flipping over and over.

Something had flipped in you the moment your eyes had met his. You’d been running a thousand miles a minute in your head trying to keep up with yourself today. You were on edge and jumpy and stressed and nervous and yet… all of that just stopped as soon as that boy had turned around. He looked handsome in his suit, grown up. You hadn’t seen him in a good few months and his hair had grown out a little more - the length you said suited him most. His suit looked like the same one he wore for his prom and yet it had seemingly grown with his changing age.

He felt like a piece of home. And you couldn’t quite explain why.

“Getting married,” Conrad half-whispers the words, “Does it feel real?”

“Real?” You shake your head, “It will do when I’m at the altar.”

Both of you fall silent.

“Which…” You clear your throat again, “I’m going to be late for if I keep standing here talking to you.”

You smooth your hands over your dress once again and go to turn around, walking back towards the room that were likely starting to panic that they didn’t know where you were.

And that’s when he says it. The words that seem to flip your stomach on itself, that seem to freeze your entire world momentarily, seem to empty your brain of all other thoughts.

“Don’t marry him, (Y/n).”

You can’t bring yourself to turn around, terrified that you’ll be drawn to him as soon as you see the look in Conrad’s eyes.

“Don’t do it,” He reaffirms, a slight quiver in his voice, “I know this is terrible timing and it’s probably the last thing you want to be hearing today but I’d hate myself if I went through today without telling you how I feel.”

There’s still no words, as if you’re terrified of disturbing the moment.

“I love you, (Y/N). I’ve loved you since the first summer Belly brought you to Cousins. We stayed on the beach until it was dark and you told me about the stars and the moon and the tides. I’ve loved you since we stayed up talking until the sun came up, and we’d fall asleep on the couches. I’ve loved you since I first kissed you that one night, and I’ve hated myself every day since for ruining that with you,” He takes a breath then, like he realised he hadn’t breathed in a short infinity, “The truth is, I was scared. Because admitting I loved you then would be admitting that I didn’t ever want to love anybody else. And that terrified me.”

You feel your heart start to ache, the way it clenches in your chest.

“But I’m not scared of that anymore, (Y/n). I’m more scared of losing you, and I know that’ll happen if you say you’ll marry him today,” Conrad exhales.

“Conrad I-“ Your voice comes out hoarse and you can feel tears brewing in your eyes.

“If you love him, marry him. But (Y/n) if there’s even the tiniest bit of doubt in your mind… don’t do it. You can leave and I’ll leave with you. You can go and I’ll go with you. I’ll always stay with you.”

“I need to leave,” You tremble over the words, picking up your dress into your hands and hurrying off down the corridor.

Conrad’s shoulders drop, his chest tightening more and more as you disappear. His breath comes out shakily, tears starting to spill over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” He mutters under his breath, dragging a hand over his face as he turns to walk back out.

———

“Con where the fuck did you go?” Jeremiah hisses under his breath as his brother takes back the seat beside him, “It’s meant to be starting.”

“Yeah,” Conrad clears his throat, keeping his eyes focused on his hands, “They must be running late.”

Jeremiah frowns at him but dismisses it quickly as the music starts and the rest of the crowd quietens down.

Your mother’s sat in the front row and she glances back when she hears Conrad’s name, offering him a small smile of reassurance. He smiles back and averts his eyes down to the floor once more, trying to stop the shake in his hands.

The bridesmaids walk down in pairs with groomsmen that Conrad didn’t recognise. Belly walks down last alongside Jason’s brother. She smiles at the boys when she sees them, taking in a deep breath as she takes her place at the end of the aisle.

The music changes then and everybody stands up, Conrad following just one beat behind.

And there you are. Arm in arm with your father, holding tightly onto him as you make your way down.

Everyone watches you in adoration, smiling wildly as you pass them. And then your eyes fall onto him, pausing there for a moment longer. Conrad has his hands clasped in front of him but you can tell they’re still trembling just a little - yours were doing the same. You feel your heart twist at the sight, the way you feel like you should reach out to him. Your father glances at him and back to you, as if he can feel the pain between you both. He squeezes your hand as the two of you reach the end of the aisle.

Jason glances at you but there aren’t tears in his eyes - everyone had asked you whether you thought he would cry when he saw you and part of you had always hoped he would.

“She looks beautiful,” Jeremiah mumbles to his brother as everyone sits back down.

“Yeah, she does,” Conrad returns, his eyes not once leaving you.

You looked ethereal.

As everyone settles, your eyes glance back at him, looking back down to the floor as soon as theres any contact. You could feel your heart clench again.

The service begins and you can barely hear the words being spoken over the pounding blood in your ears, the nerves coursing through your veins.

“(Y/n), we’ll begin with you,” The man says calmly, “Do you (Y/n) take Jason to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and health, in good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?”

You feel the words get caught in your throat, everything seemingly stopping around you, the world pausing. And, no matter how hard you tried, the word just wouldn’t come out. You just couldn’t say it.

Your eyes flick up to Jason and you notice the hints of a frown between his brows, slowly followed by the wave of realisation that seems to settle into his shoulders.

“I-“ You shake your head as tears start to fill your eyes, “I can’t do this.”

And it all happens so fast. You bunch your skirt into your hands and turn in your heels, blinking back tears as you start to hurry your way down the aisle, ignoring every pair of burning eyes on you.

You’re gone before anyone can stop you.

———

You’re not sure why you end up at the beach. You’d asked the closest taxi to drive you to Cousins and this was the first place you thought to go to. Your heels were abandoned at the edge of the sand, your dress dragging through the sand beneath your feet.

What had you done?

This wedding had been planned for months, you’d been in this relationship for years. How had you just walked out on all of it?

But the tension in your chest had seemed to lessen now, and it all seemed more manageable.

Seeing Conrad had made you question everything today - but it was a problem in itself that there was ever anything to question. Jason couldn’t ever be your everything if Conrad was going to continue to be something. Perhaps ending it today was just putting off the inevitable.

“I thought we’d find you here,” An all too familiar voice calls out, coming down the path towards the beach.

You turn around and see Conrad walking towards you, his shoes sinking in the soft sand, still fully kitted out in his suit.

“We?”

He glances behind him at the empty expanse, “It’s just me, the others are at the house.”

You nod.

“I tried to call you, couldn’t get through.”

You nod again, “I just needed a minute.”

Conrad hums in agreement as he walks over to you, stopping just a metre in front.

“What happened after I left?”

He laughs a little, tucking his hands into his pockets, “Well, everybody had some questions. Your Mom actually asked me to go after you.”

You scoff, wrapping your arms around yourself as a breeze floats over the coast, “Of course she did.”

As if instinctive, he pulls his jacket from his shoulders and holds it out to you. You oblige and slip it over your arms, letting it fall baggy around your torso.

Both of you are silent.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Conrad swallows the lump in this throat, “It was selfish of me to say any of that today.”

You take a deep breath and nod, “Yeah, it was,” You flatten your hands over the back of your dress and take a seat on one of the dunes of sand, “But I needed to hear it.”

Conrad laughs gently again, “At least you’re honest.”

He sits down beside you and both of you are silent once again, neither of you being able to think of the words that are right for the moment. What can you say? The girl that had run out of her wedding and the boy who wanted her to be saying ‘I do’ to him.

“So, I’m pretty sure I’m single now,” You nod, taking in a long breath.

“I don’t know, people get cold feet at weddings all the time and it still works out.”

“I don’t think I want it to work out, Con,” You say softly, “I think I was naive to think that it ever would.”

“Come on,” Conrad shakes his head, “It’s okay that you loved him, (Y/n).”

“Maybe,” You shrug, “But I shouldn’t have stayed.”

Conrad frowns, the concern seeming to wash over him.

“You know how you said that you were scared of being in something that was going to last forever,” You draw your knees up to your chest, “I think I was scared of the opposite. After you, when I was with Jason, it was like I just wanted to hold onto it. I couldn’t imagine losing it because I just wanted to know I could have something that would last.”

Conrad watches you when he's listening as if he’s holding onto every word that you say, as if he’s grateful for any chance to hear your voice.

“A bit ago, before he proposed, he cheated on me,” You gulp back the emotion in your voice, “And for about two days I convinced myself that I could just leave, that I knew my worth or whatever and that I could just go. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of being on my own,” You laugh at your own mind, “I couldn’t bear the thought of not being enough for someone again.”

“(Y/n)…”

You pause to let him continue, hoping he’ll say anything that you need to hear.

“You were always enough, more than enough,” He says softly, “And I hate if I ever made you feel like that wasn’t the case.”

“Did you mean what you said earlier? Or was it just-“

“I meant it.”

You feel it then. All of the tension in your chest just seems to release. To dissipate.

“I loved you then and I loved you now, I just didn’t admit it to myself then, and I’ve regretted it for every day since.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” You shake your head, “How many times have I seen you since then and you’ve never said anything.”

Conrad nods, “I know. I just… I thought you were happy. And I’d ruined that for you once before, I wasn’t going to ruin it again.”

You sigh and look out onto the water, the waves crashing against the shore, “God, we’re a mess.”

Conrad laughs and you lean sideways to rest your head on his shoulder, settling into the feeling of his touch against you.

That’s how you both stay, watching the clouds move in the sky, watching the sea crash in repetition. You stay there as your breaths seem to pattern into one, both uncertainly certain together.

———

It’s starting to get dark by the time either of you speak again, your head still against his shoulder, Conrad’s arm now around your waist.

“We should probably move,” You mumble quietly, practically a whisper.

“Yeah there’s probably a lot of people wondering where you are now,” Conrad mentions, still not making any move away from you as much as you wouldn’t move from him.

You sigh, leaning into him for a second longer before you pull away.

He stands up first, quick enough that he can turn around and reach a hand out to help you up. His fingers interlock with yours as you stand in front of him, both of you latching onto the contact like it was the one thing you could be sure of.

“So, what now (Y/l/n)?” He smiles down at you.

“I think I have a lot to figure out,” You nod, “Maybe some stuff to work on.”

Conrad nods, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“But if you’re willing to wait then we-“ You take a breath, “We wait.”

“You can leave and I’ll wait for you. You can go and I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.”

You smile and he draws up a hand to cup your cheek, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. You could stay there for an infinity.

“Alright, time to face the music (y/l/n).”

Conrad leans forward and presses the quickest of kisses to your forehead, his hand still interlocked with yours, picking up your shoes in his other hand on the way.

You breathe deeply into the feeling of having him beside you - aware of the feeling of being home.

294 notes · View notes

notsoattractivearenti · 5 months

Text

Beautiful Surprise (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)

WC: 1.7K

Warnings/Tags: pure fluff!

A/N: united got me so depressed i ended up writing this fic for a few hours for my own comfort 🥺 anyway hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 this isn't proofread so apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

It was a quiet afternoon at home because Lana – your and Mason’s 4 years old daughter – was playing with the next door neighbour’s child, Charlie, at their house. Mason was also at the neighbour's house to keep his eyes on Lana – even though you said it was unnecessary, he insisted to do so because he can be a bit overprotective at times – and knowing Mason, he would spend his time there by chatting with Charlie’s parents. Usually, you would go with him but this time you chose to stay at home because you wanted to rest.

A few hours later, Lana and Mason finally came home. You were in the living room, sitting quietly on the sofa while watching TV. After giving Lana the afternoon bath, Mason came to the living room to join you.

“So, what did you do there?” You opened a chat with your boyfriend.

“Nothing, really. Charlie’s mum was out so it was just me and Charlie’s dad talking while Lana and Charlie were playing in the backyard. He asked me a lot about football he eventually made me feel like I was in an interview.” He laughed.

“Well I’m sure he just wanted to gain more knowledge from the expert!” You responded.

Not long after, Lana joined her parents. She sat on Mason’s lap then began asking him the unexpected questions.

“Daddy, are you and Mummy married?”

The question was so out of the blue, it got both you and Mason startled.

“Umm, we aren’t, sweetie…” Mason nervously replied. Why'd you ask?”

“Charlie told me her parents are married... Will you and Mummy get married one day?”

“Uh…”

Mason immediately looked straight at you, who was sitting right next to them – he wanted to make sure you would be fine with whatever answer he was about to give to Lana. You assured him by smiling and nodding. He smiled back at you, then turned his attention back to Lana.

“Yes, sweetheart, we definitely will.”

He sounded so sure and confident when he said it.

“Yeay!” Lana excitedly shouted.

Lana then continued asking, “Charlie said she was a flower girl at her aunt’s wedding. When you and Mummy get married, can I be the flower girl?”

“Of course you can!” Mason said as he kissed Lana’s head. “You will be the most beautiful flower girl everyone has ever seen.” Lana blushed then gave his beloved Dad a little hug. “I can’t wait until you and Mummy get married!”

—

You and Mason have been together for almost six years, but you kind of feared the idea of being married. You were surrounded by a lot of failed marriages including your own parents, and even though you felt like you have always wanted a marriage, you were afraid you couldn’t keep it for the long term. Mason on the other hand has no fear whatsoever, but he has never wanted to rush you into changing your view about marriage. Though you two have had some conversations about the possibility of being married, he has always respected your decision to stay in a committed relationship without officially being married for a while. It wasn’t like you would never want to get married, it was about when you would feel ready instead.

But when it comes to children, you always knew you wanted to be a mother. And Mason also wanted to be a father. So, it was a quick and easy talk when you both decided you were ready to bring a child into the world, therefore a year into the relationship you both started trying and you got pregnant with Lana not long after.

You and Mason genuinely love being parents, though yours and his parents kept asking why you haven’t tied the knot. They thought now that you had Lana, it would be best to think about marriage. But Mason always defended our decision – he told them that we are focused on raising Lana and content with the way things are.

But since Lana asked whether you and Mason would get married or not, you started questioning if you are ready to marry the love of your life. And after spending some time thinking, your mind is finally made up: you are ready. You opened up to Mason about it, and he was so excited – however, you made it clear that you didn’t want to rush into it, and he understood.

—

Today was your and Mason's six-year anniversary, but it has been a very busy week at work so you let Mason know a few days prior you wanted to keep this year’s anniversary simple. After another long day at work, you were looking forward to coming home to your boyfriend and your daughter and spending the rest of the day with them – Mason had also promised you an anniversary dinner at home because he knew you would be too exhausted to go out.

Once you got back home, Mason – who was nicely dressed up – greeted you at the front door. He took your hand and gave it a kiss.

“Happy anniversary, my love. Dinner is ready for you.”

He had prepared a candlelight dinner at the dining room. The area was all decorated and the table was set beautifully.

“Wow!” You were in awe. “My goodness, this is perfect Mase.”

“Well, I got the best little helper,” he pointed at Lana who was already seated at the table.

“But honey, I am so underdressed right now,” you pointed at your outfit, “do you mind if I change first?”

“Don’t worry about your clothes, my love. I think you’re perfectly dressed! You know I just like to be extra.” He assured you while making fun of himself.

You chuckled. “Yeah, you can be so extra sometimes.”

You were ready to be seated but Mason held you back.

“Wait, before we have dinner I have to do something first.”

Mason nervously exhaled then got down on one knee. He really caught you by surprise – you weren’t prepared for what was coming.

“Okay, here we go.” He cleared his throat before starting his speech.

“Y/N, these past six years have been the most unbelievably wonderful years of my life. And it’s all thanks to you, my beautiful, amazing woman. The moment you entered my world, you instantly and naturally became the centre of it. My life has changed for the better because of you, and I don’t even remember my days before you.”

Tears slowly fell down on your face while listening to his heartfelt speech. Your hands were cold and visibly shaken from the shock and excitement.

“I can never thank you enough for bringing the most precious little girl four years ago into our lives, and making my heart and soul feel complete.” He continued. “Y/N, since our first date, I knew you were it for me… I really can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. I love you so much and I love our little family. I know you were scared and worried about the idea of marriage, but I am so proud of you for overcoming your fear. So… I am here to ask you to marry me.”

Lana, who was watching the proposal from her seat at the dining table, immediately got off her chair and giddily handed the ring box to Mason.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He whispered softly to Lana.

Your heart nearly dropped when Mason opened the box and showed you the ring. You couldn’t believe it was actually your dream ring: a 3-carat oval-cut diamond with pavé rose-gold band. You had casually mentioned it to Mason one time but you thought he wouldn’t remember any details.

“Mase…” You weakly sobbed.

“Y/F/N,” his voice started shaking, “will you spend the rest of your life with me by being my wife?”

You eagerly nodded your head and screamed out the loudest “yes” repeatedly. Still on his knee, he placed the ring on your ring finger. He then got up on his feet, pulled you in and passionately brushed his soft lips against yours. Your arms were wrapped around his neck while he was holding you tight. As you pulled your lips away, you both tearily whispered “I love you” to one another. Lana then joined her parents to celebrate the joyous occasion with hugging your and Mason’s legs.

“Yeay! Mummy and Daddy are married!” She cheered.

You and Mason immediately burst into laughter.

“We are not married yet, sweetie! But there’s going to be a wedding soon and we will be married then!” You quickly explained to Lana. “Don’t you want to be the flower girl?”

“Yes, Mummy, I do!” She enthusiastically jumped up and down. “I want to be a flower girl!”

Lana then impatiently pulled the back of your shirt over and over, letting you know she was starving. “Come on, Mummy, I need to eat! My tummy is empty!”

You laughed at how dramatic your daughter can be. She gets it from her father, for sure.

“Okay, okay, let’s eat!”

—

After you all finished your dinner, you stayed at the table for a while. You and Mason couldn’t stop yourselves from smiling and you kept admiring your engagement ring.

“This ring is so beautiful…”

“I helped Daddy pick it out, Mummy!” Lana claimed proudly.

“Yes, you certainly did.” Mason winked at her. He then whispered into your ear, “she actually just helped me pick the colour of the band but you know what, I’ll let her have the credit she wants.”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle. “Mmhm, I believe you.”

When Lana left the table to wash her hands, you poured your heart out to Mason.

“Mason… This is the best anniversary ever. I know I said I don’t want to rush anything but I really feel like I can’t wait to marry you. And you got me my dream ring! My God, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, baby… I’m the luckiest girl in the universe. I’m so excited for other anniversaries in the future. I love you so much, fiancé.”

“I love you so much more, fiancée… You deserve the best in the world! I will always give you what you want and need.” He said in response. “And trust me, there will be more exciting anniversaries to come.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #footballer x reader #footballer x fem!reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #footballer imagines #footballer fic #footballer fanfic #footballer one shot #footballer fluff

240 notes · View notes

lavendermunson · 1 year

Text

enchanted | knight!eddie munson x princess!reader

summary Eddie never saw you again after that night, you both were ten years old and sitting in a piano, just a couple of kids enjoying each others company but since you were a princess with an arranged marriage, you got trapped in a castle. You never saw Eddie again but he did, getting close to your windows to watch you, you grew to be the most beautiful he has ever seen. A re-encounter might change the world, even put upside down two different kingdoms.

tags +18, afab!reader, perv!eddie, mentions of jason craver sorry, best friends to lovers kind of relationship, masturbation reader and eddie, mentions of food in a nsfw way, set in some fairytale, mention of low self-steem. one use of y/n just one i swear it’s you won’t even remember it. i tried to be as inclusive as possible so i didn’t mention anything about the reader’s, no skin color, no hair color, no body type, if i missed something tell me! i want everyone to read this and picture themselves as a princess, although i did used she/her pronouns and the reader was born in autumn. mentions of death eddie’s mom

a/n i pictured a lot of princess from disney and also toon inspiration from bridgerton, it’s the first time i write something so long so forgive me for any mistakes. if you want me to keep writing this story don’t forget to mention it :)

wc 2.4k… i surprised myself

moodboard | next chapter

A few years ago two kingdoms decided to unite, building a wall to protect them both and agreeing on sharing everything. With this agreement also came the rule of “arrange the marriage of their second born children at the age of 20” The two of them being born in the same year made it easier for it to be more under control, thanks to their older siblings being already married or out of town.

Prince Jason, from the Craver family, was born in the light of the summer, and with it came his whole personality. He isn’t much of a charming young man, his soft hair shines under every light, even the fire, what’s supposed to be aggressive and dangerous. The boy used it in his favor, lighting his room every time he got a new girl on his bed from one of his famous parties.

From the second kingdom, Princess Y/N from the Willow family was born in autumn, just in time when the trees start to let go of their orange-colored leaves. She was a quiet girl, always surrounded by books, avoiding parties, and helping her mom grow all kinds of flowers. She’s never had a boyfriend, and always tried to keep herself busy until the day of her wedding, which she named “the end of her life”.

She didn’t like Jason, at family dinners, he always had a girl in his arms, he wasn’t polite and he was irresponsible. Didn’t have what it took to be a good prince, let aside the new king. The princess was about to turn 20, in three weeks exactly, she was scared of her future because she had too much more to learn, to see, to experience.

—

At the start of the cold winter, Eddie was born, the same year as the prince and the princess, his friends always joked about that “If you were born into the Craver family, you would’ve married the princess” he always laughed about that, knowing that only happened in his dreams, one time, after a private Christmas dinner with the Royalty, when his uncle Wayne became the Willow king’s right hand. Eddie was being trained by his uncle, in sword fights, first aid, horse riding, everything to serve as a knight to the Willow kingdom and to keep him close, but the long-haired boy hated it, he wanted to play guitar, play piano, conquer every instrument in existence, he loved music thanks to his mom who unfortunately died when he was a little boy.

Eddie had an innocent crush since that dinner, he was 10 the same as you, and you showed him the piano and started playing with it.

“You should come here and take classes with me, I'm pretty sure you’re going to be better than me. You have talent, Eds” You said.

“She said I can take classes with her, Wayne.” little Eddie begged his uncle to let him go “Pleaaase”

“No way son, you have to start training,” the older man said, with a frown on his face.

Since that day, you never saw Eddie again, but he did, when he gets a little too close to the kingdom and stares at your living room window where you read, every day, at 5 pm. He watches you bite your bottom lip when you flip the pages gently, your fingers rub the words as you furrow your eyebrows, he realizes he is head over heels for you.

—

It was a Sunday, the air was cold and the clouds were getting in the way of the sun making its light a little bit dim. Eddie grabbed a horse and some grapes, to keep him company while he watched you read, it wasn’t weird, right? He wasn't doing anything wrong, just an innocent act of… spying. His uncle stopped him after hearing the loud steps of the horse.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going for a ride, just to clear my head”

“No, you get back here young man” The voice of his uncle was louder, firmer, Eddie whined at the old man with a frustrated look on his face “Did you forget tomorrow you start working for real? We have to get you ready”

“Ready? I’m ready Wayne I just need a little time to myself”

“Nonsense, get back here you have to clean your armor”

They both get back in the little house, Eddie sighed as his uncle showed him the new armor.

“But it’s clean!” Eddie whined again, Wayne eyed his nephew annoyed, and tossed a cloth into the young boy’s chest.

“It’s not, it has to shine,” he said, Eddie sighed again, defeated. “C’mon”

Eddie stayed home that day, the first day he skipped his little spying routine, and thank god he did because what happened that day at 5 pm would’ve broken his heart.

“Just one kiss, please?” Jason said to you, getting the book out of your hands and throwing it aside.

“You are drunk at 5 pm? What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing! Just kiss me” he leaned in closer to your face, fingers touching your jaw “We are getting married, don’t you remember?”

“I do, I think about it every day and it makes me so sick, now I have a migraine because of your little tantrum” You push him away, and with all the strength in your body, gravity played a little turn and betrayed you, making you fall on top of him on the floor.

“Are we going to practice?” Jason had a grin on his face, his hands tightening on your waist. You get up quickly at the feeling of his touch, fixing up your dress you leave the room, not after scoffing at him and his absurd behavior.

—

On Monday, the kingdoms were throwing a celebration in honor of King Craven’s 60th birthday. Everyone in town was celebrating, having a big party for themselves with the excuse of their least-favorite King. The servants were getting the party started, Queen Craven decided to go with a ball instead of a casual dinner, where people from other towns would come to see the castle and have fun with beautiful gowns and expensive jewelry.

After Eddie met with the Willow king and queen, his new job was taking care of their little princess. He was excited about it but also nervous. He’s getting a chance to spend time with you, to watch you for a few more minutes than usual. It was a new sensation for him, some kind of anxiety mixed with enthusiasm, walking around with a heavy metal armor over his body relaxed him a bit, it was making pressure on his chest so his heart wouldn’t burst out, the only ‘bad’ thing was he didn’t have to wear a helmet, he was afraid his grin was too big on his face and decided to look for an empty room to make a little dance of celebration.

Finally one of the doors opens, and thanks to his bad luck he finds your room. You are currently in a large undergarment, looking at yourself in the mirror and making a disgusted face. You didn’t have a corset on because you hated them, but something was off with your self-esteem that day.

“Sorry, sorry i-” he said, stunned to speak at the sight of the beautiful princess. He also dreamed of seeing your body, it was better than his imagination would have pictured. The parts of your naked skin were glowing, he closed his fist trying to keep himself on edge, the desire of touching you, feeling your soft skin with his fingertips, and placing kisses all over you made Eddie turn around quickly, closing his eyes in an attempt to memorize what he just saw.

“Wait! Don’t go!” you said, getting in your dress as quickly as possible as he touched the door handle “Can you tie up my dress? It’s pretty difficult for me since i can’t reach”

Eddie opened his eyes wider, trying to ease his breathing and slowly coming up to you ‘Your wish is my command’ he said to himself.

He nods in your direction and gets closer, you move your hair to one side so Eddie can tie up the dress easier, and with his big fingers, he takes the laces of the dress tightening up a little, and makes a secure knot on your back.

“Please make sure you add a bow, i-it looks better that way” You peek your head over your shoulder for a second, he nods again and tries to make a proper bow, but it turned out nicely than he thought.

He rests his hands on your waist, looking at your reflection in the mirror, you keep checking if the dress looks good and trying to fix some parts of it that look loose. You didn’t mind Eddie’s touch, you knew who he was and what he was doing here (kind of). You were happy inside, you always wanted Eddie as a friend since that night when you were kids, and now you can keep him close, even better, speak to him and get to know him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say, getting out of your pool of thoughts.

“You remember me?” he asks, eyebrows crinkled on his face, and you giggle looking at his surprised face.

“How could I forget such a pretty face?” Eddie flushes instantaneously.

“Me? You are the one who looks speechless” you blush, the little flirt game making your heart flutter.

“You think so? I believe this dress has something wrong, do you?”

Eddie takes his time to reply, looking at your reflection again he keeps looking for the mistake you were searching for earlier, but he seems to miss it. He gets brave enough to trace your waist and torso with his fingers, going up from your back and resting his hands on your exposed shoulders, rubbing them delicately. You shiver at his touch, something that you have never felt before, your tummy starts to feel funny and your breath hitches, the boy behind you is quick to notice your little squirm, he laughs at it and gently takes his hands off you, you miss his touch already.

“I don’t think so, it looks… you look really good” he says, giving you a look of reassurance. He misses your skin too, it’s been just a couple of seconds since his fingers ignited with your warm skin and now his hands are too cold for his liking. You turn around in a quick twist, locking eyes with him.

“So… you work here now,” you ask him, getting lost in his chocolate eyes.

“Yes, from now on”

“What do you have to do?” His cheeks feel warm being close to you, now he hates the armor that protects his chest from the warmth of your body.

“I have to take care of you, actually” You are quick to notice he is trying to hide a big smile “Your mom kept talking about your little trips to the outside and she wants someone to protect you”

“You think I need protection?” you cross your arms in front of your chest, Eddie brings his attention to your little act trying to look tough and he gets lost in your cleavage for a minute.

“N-no, I’m sure you are fine” he shakes his head and finds your eyes again “Since you’ve been back without a scratch i know you got everything under control, i mean… she only wants to keep me close to you so she can relax” he curses at himself for feeling so nervous all of a sudden, the fact that he didn’t know about your trips to the woods outside the kingdoms makes his blood boil, he kept tabs on you every day, all day, how did he miss this?

“I’m pretty sure she thinks there are monsters out there” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand “i only go out to read, sometimes i need to clear my head and be somewhere new, you know?” He nods, he understands perfectly, that’s what he said to his uncle just yesterday.

“Yes, but now I'll be doing my job and watching you” ‘like i used to’ he thinks to himself.

“Alright, i don’t mind you doing your job” You roll your eyes and turn around “I have to keep getting ready, can you wait outside?”

“Yes, of course” he leans his head to the front and you giggle at his movements “I’ll leave you to it”you giggle at his movements “I’ll leave you to it”

“I’ll take a lot of time, you can just go get some food and I’ll find you in the kitchen”

“If you need something i’ll be there, i have to take you to the Craven kingdom in an hour”

“Perfect, i’ll find you there” he leaves your room after listening to your words, you look at him with a soft smile before he closes the door and you run to the bathroom to clear your head.

You quickly realize you miss his touch on your body, the pool on your panties confirms it. You lift your dress and sit on the edge of the bathroom, reaching for your pussy and rubbing your clit over your clothes with your fingers, closing your eyes, and trying to focus on him. His masculine scent comes back to you, remembering his fingers touching you and the way he looked so good in that armor, you made sure to remember he had been working out to get the job. Your imagination takes you far beyond, it was almost as you were listening to his moans, but no, it can be, he is in the kitchen at this moment. Maybe he is eating a tiny cookie with his big hands, crust getting all over his mouth, maybe he is eating a cupcake while he gets frosting over his fingers and he sucks them clean, eating the bottom part while licking at his sugary lips.

But you were wrong, he wasn’t in the kitchen, he came back a couple of seconds after you went into the bathroom. He wanted to ask you something before you had to be in a public space, surrounded by people he didn’t like. But you weren’t there, he got worried for a second until his ears started ringing, recognizing your voice through the bathroom door and your shaky moans. His cock got hard just hearing you breathe in and out with a fast rhythm, he quickly got his hand under his pants and started to rub his dick, moaning at your pretty noises not noticing you could hear him, he managed to run to a bathroom close to your room to release his cum and wash his hands after. You did the same in your bathroom, quickly cleaning your cum so it doesn’t drip onto your clothes.

If that’s how both of you get after seeing each other for less than an hour, it would be worse when you have to be together day and night.

sorry i ended up like this :) if you want more i’ll be happy to write it, leave some ideas of what should happen next i’ll be reading you ♡ feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR!

tags: @stephanie-nicks76 ty for commenting luv. join my taglist in the form or comment here

443 notes · View notes

s-sturn · 1 month

Text

𖥔 OPEN ARMS!

part 2

summary: where Chris begins to keep Y/N away from his life after thinking he no longer wanted Y/N, then the girl decides to leave him after getting so tired of the relationship, making Chris realize that he was totally wrong.

warnings: angst, little fight, SADDDDD!!, swearing, regret, crying!!

masterlist!

Y/N’s POV

Chris was going to go out once again with his friends, leaving me aside as he has been doing these last few weeks.

He has been taking me away from his life for days, sometimes messing with his phone while telling something interesting about my day, he seemed much more interested in sending torpedoes to his friends than in hearing me speak.

All that was tiring, I see Chris finishing fixing his hair and sending a message to a friend of his who would be with him at this party, he left the room not even making a point of saying goodbye.

My mind was surrounded by thoughts, I felt that it was no longer important in the brunette's life, and that he didn't love me anymore and that he could even be with another girl.

Tears began to wet my pink cheeks, while I felt empty and alone, thinking that I lost the love of my life, and that now I would have to leave it.

I fell asleep in the middle of my thoughts, waking up the next day without feeling the presence of Chris by my side, leaving me so hurt.

I got up from the boy's bed, sitting on the edge, taking a deep breath and cleaning my face as I always did.

I leave my boyfriend's room going up the stairs of the house, reaching the kitchen, meeting the triplets.

I give a kind smile when I see Nick and Matt saying good morning, I would expect something from Chris, but he is as usual, on his phone.

━━━ How about we go out to eat? After all, none of us have anything to do. ━━━ Nick asked everyone at the table, while Matt and I agreed with our heads and I soon turn to Chris

━━━ I have things to do today, Nate invited me to another party and I'll go. ━━━ The brunette said arrogant getting up from the table and leaving for his room, where he would stay there, for a long time.

I get upset and irritated, making me get up from the table and go down the stairs to the door of Chris' room, I hit that piece of wood several times, soon coming away with Chris' angry expression.

━━━ Stop! That's fucking annoying! What do you want? ━━━ He said angry and rude, making me incredulous about the way he talked to me.

━━━ What the fuck is that, Chris?! You keep going out to parties, ignoring your brothers and me, who am your girlfriend! ━━━ My tone was angry, very angry.

━━━ What a drama, Y/N! I'm just having fun! ━━━ He rolled his eyes slightly as he crossed his arms

━━━ But to have fun, you need to kick me out of your life so much?! ━━━ After my question he was quiet for a few seconds, thinking about what to say.

━━━ Maybe. ━━━ My mouth fell, I couldn't speak or say anything, tears threaten to fall, but I didn't let them fall. ━━━ Maybe I don't even love you anymore. ━━━ His tone was arrogant and cold, I didn't recognize him anymore, the tears that threatened to fall finally wet my face, flashbacks come to my mind, reminding me of my first date with Chris, our first kiss, our first "I love you", our first look.

I didn't believe that the man who said he loved me so much, gave up the love he had on me, I sighed closing my eyes, while he took his attention to my person and returned to the phone.

━━━ So, I'll let you go, we're done. ━━━ My tone was crying, I left the bedroom door going up the stairs without looking back, my vision was blurred by so many tears accumulated on my face.

Nick and Matt asked what happened and I just replied that we had finished what made the two brothers go into shock.

They knew that Chris was the love of my life, that I wanted to marry him, have children.

I quickly said goodbye to the two of them leaving the house quickly, getting into my car and going back to my apartment.

I felt an inexplicable emptiness in my chest, an emptiness that Chris filled, my heart was broken, I didn't feel like doing anything else, just lying in my bed and sleeping for days and days, and when I woke up all this was just a horrible nightmare.

I thought at what moment he stopped loving me, at what moment I stopped being his girl, my head exploded, while my eyes looked like a waterfall.

CHRIS’ POV

It's been exactly 2 months since I last saw Y/N.

She cried so much, and I didn't comfort her as I always did, I caused her the pain and I never noticed it.

As soon as I heard the words she had left me, I bitterly regretted what I had said, I just wanted to run after her, hug her, kiss her, and beg for her forgiveness while saying how much I loved her, even if for a stupid reason I had hidden and denied these feelings.

For some point in my life, I felt that my relationship with Y/N was too good, which made me scared of everything ending and I ended up hurting myself again, so I pushed her away and denied my feelings, causing an inexplicable pain in both of us, which for some reason I had never noticed, I went out to parties and came back a lot in the afternoon, I always saw her lying on my bed, sleeping peacefully, it made me feel so guilty, for thinking that I really didn't have any feelings for her anymore, and that morning when I said those words I regretted it in the same second.

I felt so much guilt to the point that I didn't feel like doing anything else, I didn't want to eat or talk, I just grabbed the only blouse there was of Y/N in which there was her smell, I slept calmly, thinking she was there, and when I woke up and returned to my reality, I cried like a baby.

I can't stand the way she is missed anymore, her touch, her smell, her kiss, I miss everything about her.

I regret so much that I let her go.

I hated this thing sm, omfg 😭😭😭 And i’m so sorry if this post has spelling mistakes!

taglist.

answer this post if u want to be in my taglist!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #s-sturn

79 notes · View notes

gatheringbones · 6 months

Text

[“Terry’s hair was long & thick, bleached blond, perhaps because she wanted to be a princess in a fairy tale instead of real. We wrote letters to one another, passionately declaring our eternal love, which the technicians stole. One night when she was sitting on my bed in the dorm after lights out, as I brushed her hair, they threw on the lights in a frenzy of disgust & separated us for being lesbians. We were too drugged and too frightened to do more than hold hands. The head nurse was a lesbian, who called Terry’s mother, who came the next day to take her home to her psychiatrist father, to whom she had not spoken in over four years. I was sent to the old women’s ward for punishment, where my job was to feed the bed-bound ladies, some of them in restraints all the time. The stench of urine & untreated cancer was overwhelming. I wrote long, intense letters to Terry, which I could not send, hiding them under my green plastic mattress. Terry’s stars are deep burgundy, & I bleed into the other colors when I mourn that we never made love.

Then Maggie was dragged onto our ward, in hot pink tights & purple smock, her teeth glittering with mischief Far from being depressed by the surroundings, she sang bawdy songs to the old ladies she fed, opening our misery with laughter. She was from a wealthy Marin family who sent her there to straighten her up & scare her into agreeing to marry the man they wanted to sell her off to, although they wouldn’t say it like that (she did). Somehow her wedding veil was among her belongings. She liked to wear it to the vast dining barrack because it annoyed the nurses so much. It was very beautiful, expensive lace which she trailed behind her like indifference. One day Maggie & I decided to get married. The guy who thought he was jesus was happy to perform our ceremony, held in the courtyard of our adjoining wards, surrounded by hundreds of old glass windows barred with iron grates. I wore Maggie’s veil & my Napa State Hospital white cardigan tied to make a train. We both carried huge bouquets of lilacs, which were blooming wildly in that hot, dry country. All our patient guests cheered & clapped so loudly that we couldn’t hear what jesus was saying. We only got to stroll down the sidewalk, showered with rice that Edith had filched from the kitchen where she was one of the cooks, before our union was rudely interrupted by burly male guards straining with anger in their white uniforms.

Everyone was locked down, some of us in solitary, & the bells went off for riot alert. Maggie’s poor veil was ripped apart by their feet & rage & arms. The head nurse (another lesbian) called Maggie’s mother that night, & before I had a chance to kiss her hello & goodbye, Maggie was driven away the next morning in her father’s limp-dick limo (her words again), as we ate our powdered eggs, silently depressed.

However, Maggie was a very sneaky & smart girl. She calmly arrived the following day in her VW bug (custom-painted purple, as are her stars) & said she had come back to collect her belongings, which no one had thought to pack up. Her mother, a master materialist (probably hoping for the veil), was very understanding. The hospital wanted to be accommodating in hope of future funds. So Maggie surprised me by returning to busily pack up not very much. We weren’t allowed to talk, & the nurses were watching us sharply until Ursula, understanding our need, threw her tennis shoe at the TV, screaming. Maggie palmed me a note to meet her by the lilac hedge behind the building, where she had conveniently parked. I left as though going to my new job at the dairy (cow shit apparently being a step up from human shit). The other women realized Ursula’s intentions & took off their keds, too. My last sight of that day room (where I had been declared incurably schizophrenic) was of flying sneakers, screaming technicians, breaking glass, & laughing patients—a really lovely melee. Because, of course, Maggie had returned to rescue me. We pulled out the backseat of her bug & I lay down across the battery. She laid a Mexican blanket over me, while I tried to project looking like a backseat. She piled her boxes, mostly empty, on top of me. The guards at the main gate were distracted by another call from the ward where the women who weren’t strapped down could not be contained. Maggie smiled, they gave her back her driver’s license, & off we went. On the other side of town, Maggie freed me from my seat charade & I tasted the wind in my hair for the first time in more than a year. She drove me to Big Sur, where I’d never been & they wouldn’t look for me (I had seven previous escapes, which is why I was on the violent ward so often, a curious juxtaposition—is freedom indeed violence, for lesbians?). In her trunk she had a sleeping bag, some food, money, & clothes that didn’t say Napa State on them for me. She dropped me near an overpass under which fellow fugitives of all kinds were camped, driving back to Marin, where perhaps she did escape marrying him. My belongings & three cartons of writing may still be in a dusty storage room at Napa. I guess I’m AWOL. Freedom’s worth the loss. If not for Maggie, I’d still be in the loony bin, incurable & terrified, not allowed to be a lesbian except with technicians. But I ripped that nurse out of the quilt.

Big Sur was rich with empty summer houses we raided for canned goods as a gang of teenage runaways, Vietnam War deserters, Rez escapees & drug dealers. We caught and roasted a wild pig. We hid out from the park rangers. We flirted with soldiers from the base for bags of potato chips, Hostess lemon pies, & chocolate bars. It was my theory we wouldn’t get scurvy if we ate the pies. We dropped acid & had orgies & stole into the mud baths at night. I was in a fog & detoxing from the nuthouse drugs, until one dusk when my eyes became diamond sharp at the sight of a thin young guy getting out of a hitchhiking ride at the convenience store near the campgrounds. He had black wavy hair cut in a DA falling forward over his face, wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that oozed sex. Our eyes caught across the parking lot & I fell in love like slamming into earth. I walked over, offering my open bag of BBQ pork rinds. Her reaching hand made me laugh & I blurted out, “I thought you were a guy.” She looked me up & down intensely, startled me by stroking my crotch with a quick secret movement, & growled, “Good.”]

chrystos, from cherry picker, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#chrystos #lesbian literature #terra preta #cw abuse #mad pride

160 notes · View notes

fanfictionalhooligan · 10 months

Text

The Swordsmith's Spring〚Haganezuka x Kakushi/Reader Oneshot〛

Preface: Haganezuka is left discouraged after the failure of his first matchmaking arrangement. Tecchin's next pick for him is a Kakushi, oddly enough, but he obliges. He has little hope that his Spring will arrive (as Kanamori words it), but love has a strange way of bringing together those who look after the Demon Slayers.

Intended to be a follow-up to the Demon Slayer novel, Telltale Signs of the Wind. This story can still be read independently but it probably hits differently if you've read the light novel. I added a link to the specific chapter at the end of the story, but if you just want a quick overview then see this post!

"I think we've met before, Haganezuka-san."

"...Is that so?"

"Just for a few seconds. You, um, were running with a knife and yelled at me to get out of the way."

"...Oh." Haganezuka had no memory of this. He'd delivered too many death threats and knife chases in his life to recall small details. "Sorry if I frightened you."

"It's okay. I yell at Demon Slayers a lot, too," the female Kakushi replied. "They can be really frustrating."

"They are."

So, this would be the first topic of their matchmaking. Knives and yelling at Demon Slayers.

The two of them were here on extremely short-notice thanks to Tecchikawahara Tecchin, the Swordsmith Village chief. The old man had taken one look at her face a few days ago and shamelessly asked if she was married. He wasn't supposed to see her face at all, actually, but a spider had crawled under her mask and caused her to shriek and yank off her entire hood in wild terror. Tecchin lit up with glee and told her that his adopted son, Haganezuka Hotaru, was looking for a wife.

The chief was persistent and beseeched her to stay for just a couple of days in the Swordsmith Village, no matter how many ways she tried to find excuses to escape for work duty. However, there was something endearing about the way Tecchin wished for "Spring to finally blossom" for his son and for her as well. The female Kakushi gave in and decided that there was nothing to lose from one matchmaking meeting, anyway. She was constantly given a hard time about being unmarried, but what was she supposed to do? The Kakushi had her running all over Japan with Demon Slayers on her back, and she was never in one place long enough to meet a potential suitor. Still, at least she could get everyone off her case after this meeting and say that she'd tried.

...As it turned out, it was mostly Tecchin trying to find a wife for Haganezuka. The latter was carrying on with his life and his swords as always, and no one told him anything until she'd already agreed to the meeting. He threw a fit but grudgingly obliged since it would be rude, even for him, to disregard her gesture.

And here they were.

For two people who apparently yelled at Demon Slayers a lot, they could only manage a quiet mumble when they spoke to each other. Tecchin had insisted that they show up without their masks, claiming that their good looks would be sure to make a lasting impression and a shame to keep hidden. Besides, it was safe given that they'd both been working alongside the Demon Slayers for several years and needed no explanation. Tecchin arranged the meeting in a secluded area away from the village houses, surrounded by Sakura trees and difficult for onlookers to spot.

Secluded or not, though, sitting out here on the grass in broad daylight without a mask felt similar to being naked. The fact that she actually found Haganezuka as handsome as he found her beautiful, true to Tecchin's claims, somehow made it worse. They couldn't look each other in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time before getting embarrassed and pretending to focus instead on the plate of dango between them.

She decided to choose the first thing within sight that she could start a conversation about. "So... I hear that this is your favorite food?" she held up her skewer of dango.

Haganezuka had just stuffed one of the round masses of sweet dough into his mouth and gestured with his free hand for her to give him a moment. After a loud gulp, he cleared his throat. "Yeah. Mitarashi dango's my favorite."

"I can see why. They're really good," she remarked, taking a bite from her own stick of dangos.

"Wish I could eat them every day," Haganezuka added.

"Yes, wouldn't that be great?" she responded as cheerfully as she could manage. He was making it very difficult to keep the conversation alive and had returned to eating without replying. "So, um...do you have any hobbies, Haganezuka-san?"

His face hardened for some reason. "Making swords."

"Hey, it's great that you see your work as a hobby, too!" the Kakushi girl exclaimed, trying not to think too much into his sour expression. Haganezuka seemed surprised, though, lifting one of his glaring, jagged eyebrows."That makes it more fun since it's usually a really strenuous process, right?" she continued. "On top of that, the Demon Slayers just throw new requests at you as if you could magically just hand a new one to them the next day."

"I would still make swords whether or not anyone uses them. I enjoy it." Haganezuka stopped eating and just looked down at the dango skewer in his fingers instead.

"Well, that must be how you became so great at it," she told him earnestly.

Haganezuka smiled halfheartedly. "It's odd... I was asked the same question last time."

"Last time, as in, you had another matchmaking meeting?" she exclaimed. For some reason, she wasn't fond of the idea of another woman entertaining a chance to marry him.

"Sorry, forget I mentioned anything. Nothing good came out of it." Haganezuka straightened up and cleared his throat, a little ashamed. "...But I do like your answer better."

"Oh, about your hobby?" she remarked, unsure of what he meant. "Eh...what else would someone say? If you don't mind."

Haganezuka went silent for a moment. "...That swords are barbaric weapons that should be left in the past for me to look into more useful things. Like kitchen knives." The Kakushi stared at him in horror. "That's all."

"Someone actually said that?" She suddenly threw down her unfinished stick of dango and startled him. "What - why?"

Haganezuka shrugged. "I rejected the arrangement."

Everyone who met him was able to tell within minutes how much he adored swords. Whoever wanted him to discard them like useless artifacts might as well have told him to go kill himself. The Kakushi was enraged. "Kitchen knives?!" she repeated. He said nothing. "Well, how about those kitchen knives you chase after Demon Slayers with, then?" she scowled. "Yeah, let's see how much she loves kitchen knives after -"

"Those aren't kitchen knives," Haganezuka interrupted plainly. "Too dangerous. They might look like cutlery, but I made them extremely sharp. I wouldn't recommend them for cooking."

"...Oh." She was thrown off by the random comment about the actual knives, rather than the person that deserved to be hunted down by them. "I, um, didn't know."

He didn't add anything else.

It was probably a better idea not to talk about it. He was still sitting over there without touching the plate of dango.

She thought of something else. "You know, I've always wondered how swordsmiths know what to use to forge a Nichirin Blade." Haganezuka's face immediately brightened, and she couldn't help smiling. "Maybe it's obvious to you, but I personally can't tell them apart from regular swords until they change colors. Is there a special component in the metal?"

"Absolutely." Haganezuka's voice was suddenly clear and confident, sounding nothing like their initial conversation about knives and yelling at Demon Slayers. "Have you ever heard of Mount Yoko?" he asked eagerly.

"I haven't," she replied curiously. "But the name sounds familiar. Where is it?"

"It's the mountain closest to the sun," Haganezuka explained avidly. "It's bathed in sunlight all day, and that's where you'll find Scarlet Crimson Iron Sand and Scarlet Ore, which is what we use to forge Nichirin Blades." The young woman nodded along, fascinated. "The result is a sword that absorbs sunlight," continued Haganezuka. "The source of the very thing that kills demons and makes them terrified of the day."

"That's amazing, Haganezuka-san!" She was able to look at him directly for once, without remembering about the whole mask thing and how foreign it felt not to have one. "So, all the blades actually come from the same place? Even with so many different colors and finishes?"

"Yeah, isn't that incredible?" Haganezuka exclaimed. "When I see the sun's energy flow through a new blade, how it transforms into colors and patterns that are entirely unique to the owner of the sword... It's one of the most beautiful things in the world."

Her eyes sparkled with awe as she tried to picture it. "Wow, I wish I could see that, too. And the mountain sounds like it would be a very beautiful place."

"Oh, you have no idea." Haganezuka was glowing with joy as if he were standing on the actual mountain. "The sunlight makes everything flourish - every leaf greener, every flower more vibrant, every tree taller." He gazed off into the distance, presumably in the direction of the mountain. "There's a river with a waterfall as clear as glass, and you'll see streaks of the ores running across the rocks near its bank. There are just...so many things that words can't even describe."

"It sounds gorgeous..." the Kakushi said breathlessly. "Can I go with you next time? I want to see it, too."

The question flew right over his head. Haganezuka was completely immersed in his praise of the Nichirin mountain and continued to ramble. It was a pure, almost childlike kind of adoration that the Kakushi found endearing, and she patiently continued to listen.

"I would live on Mount Yoko if I didn't have to stay in the village to forge the swords," Haganezuka declared. "In fact, that's where I want to get married." He suddenly froze on the spot.

"I-I mean...just in general. T-that's where I would choose to have my wedding...if I got...married."

It was as if Haganezuka just remembered why they were even sitting here, talking to each other. On the other hand, the Kakushi was a bit relieved that she didn't have to be the one to bring it up first. There was an odd silence in the air as they simply looked at each other, both of them setting the dango sticks quietly back onto the plate.

"Hotaru..." she finally began, ever so softly. His face was burning red as she called him by his name. It sounded lovely, coming from her voice.

A particularly harsh gust of wind suddenly rattled all the Sakura trees above them, causing a flurry of pink petals to blow straight at their faces. A good number of petals flew into Haganezuka's mouth, while another one of them hit the Kakushi's eye along with a cloud of pollen. The two of them jolted as their arms flailed in the ambush.

"Pffft -" Haganezuka hunched over and spat the pink petals out irritably; the young woman next to him violently rubbed her eyes to get rid of the stinging pollen. At some point, the two of them stopped and looked at each other. They suddenly began to laugh.

"Hey, it's definitely Spring," the Kakushi giggled.

"Well, that's one way to be reminded."

The petals were everywhere - caught in their hair, down their backs, fluttering over their shoulders.

The moment had passed; the two of them were more fixated on brushing the sakura petals away from their faces, which weren't used to particles getting on them after wearing masks for too long. Haganezuka didn't look like he was planning to repeat anything he'd blurted about mountains anytime soon and started picking Sakura petals off of the dango plate instead.

She had no idea how to comment on it, either. But honestly, she enjoyed spending time with him here and was okay with just talking and sharing with one another their stories. All she'd ever heard about him was that he'd go completely off the handle whenever his swords got damaged and could not be reasoned with. She'd heard many rants from former clients - even if the lower-ranked Slayers seemed to complain the most - and it made her sad that he probably didn't receive many thank-yous.

"You know...I can always tell when a sword's been forged by you, Haganezuka-san."

He was eating another row of dango and looked up with surprise. "Is that so?" His face was relaxed again and eyed her curiously.

"Most of the Demon Slayers who use your swords look terrified whenever the blade needs to be repaired or reforged," she replied sheepishly.

"...You mean because of me."

The young woman let out a nervous laugh. "Y-yes."

"Anyone who brings harm to a Nichirin Sword deserves death," Haganezuka replied matter-of-factly. "It's their own fault."

"But there's more than that. Your swords are sharpened with such precision and polished so flawlessly that when it's nighttime, I can see the moon and stars reflecting from their blades."

Haganezuka's face grew warm, but he brushed the compliment aside. "All Nichirin Blades are like that. And if they're not, the wielder probably got it dirty and is a careless slob that deserves to die."

"But the thing is...I've seen a lot of Nichirin Blades." The young woman's eyes suddenly went downcast. "When Demon Slayers are killed, the Kakushi take their swords back to the village to be reforged into new ones." There was a heavy silence. "A lot of times, the blades tell me how it ended. Some are broken. Some are bent. Some are still splattered with blood."

Haganezuka was taken aback when her eyes began to water. "H-hey, are you okay?" he exclaimed, reaching out his arm awkwardly towards her for a moment before stopping himself.

"I'm fine...thank you, Haganezuka-san," the Kakushi replied with a somber smile. "I just get reminded of my friends from the Demon Slayer corps who never made it back from battle. Some of them died while I was still carrying them on my back." She swallowed back a lump in her throat. "But it's good to have a body to bury, you know. We're not always that lucky. Sometimes there's nothing left but a limb or a finger here and there, an eyeball, or just some scattered organs. We identify those Demon Slayers by their swords instead."

Haganezuka felt his stomach twist. How many times had this Kakushi seen such things? She was describing it so calmly, completely composed. Graceful, even. But every once in a while her voice shook, ever so slightly. It betrayed a deep, underlying grief that no one in the Demon Slayer Corps nor their associates could truly recover from. Haganezuka himself constantly dreaded the possibility of seeing another one of his swords in those bloodstained piles that were sent back for reforging. How did this Kakushi stay sane? She was out there delivering corpses - or pieces of them - and witnessing the maddening grief from their loved ones. Over and over again.

The young woman could sense the concern and looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said so much. People don't need to hear that."

Haganezuka wished he had something more useful to say. "No, it's fine -"

She cut him off. "What I really meant to tell you is, I've recovered more swords than I can count from fallen Demon Slayers. And yet, I rarely ever see one engraved with the Haganezuka family's crest."

"Oh...maybe because there aren't as many of those," Haganezuka replied gruffly. "People prefer other swordsmiths." As much as he loved swords more than humans with little regard for anyone's opinion, it still was discouraging whenever a Demon Slayer stormed off and demanded a more tolerable swordsmith.

"That's not what I'm getting at." The Kakushi girl suddenly gazed intently at him, causing him to pause for a moment. "I never see your swords laying out there, in all that blood, because the people you made them for are still alive. It's your dedication, the love you put into making each blade, that endures and protects them and makes it possible for them to win." She gazed softly at him with humble admiration. "That's how I know when you've forged a Nichirin Sword, Hotaru."

Something warm and bright glowed deep inside his chest. "Is that really how you see it?" Haganezuka asked, his eye glittering as he gazed back at her.

"Yes, I mean it! And the swordsmen who trust you with their Nichirin Blades can do amazing things," she told him earnestly. "Urokodaki Sakonji. Tomioka Giyu. Kamado Tanjiro -"

"The Kamado boy lost his previous sword and was willing to use a basic, first-degree blade before I could finish sharpening it to its full potential!" Haganezuka immediately threw in. His brow twitched just from the memory. "Forget the demons, I wanted to kill him myself!"

"Oh...right, I've heard." A bead of sweat ran down her temple. "But even so, you were the one who honed the sword that Tanjiro used to slay a demon that would have killed everyone in the village. It gave him time to save a lot of people because you were so committed to finishing the job that you refused to stop, even while you were wounded. And you even lost your eye..." She unconsciously reached towards his face, where his left eye was permanently shut with two long scars that crossed each other over the lid.

"I still don't remember exactly how my eye ended up like this," Haganezuka commented obliviously, scratching his head.

The young woman quickly placed her hand back down. "What do you mean?"

"I was in the workshed for days, honing one of the finest blades I've ever had the honor of being entrusted with until that misty Hashira brat suddenly took it and ran off," Haganezuka grumbled. "I noticed that my left eye was bleeding for some reason, and it hurt when I tried to open it." He scrunched his face as he tried to recall the details. "Everyone tells me that a demon crushed it, but I have no idea what it looked like or when it appeared. It was already dead by the time I noticed."

The young woman stared at him incredulously. "Wow...they weren't joking about your ability to focus beyond human limits."

"Huh?" Haganezuka blinked. "I thought all swordsmiths never get distracted while forging."

"But with you, it's, um..."

"Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, no. Not at all," she quickly retorted. "I think it's amazing, really. I've never met anyone so dedicated to their craft. That's a commitment to be admired, you know."

She had such a bright, endearing smile. It was contagious, and Haganezuka found himself smiling as well. "I appreciate that." Upon closer look at her face, however, it occurred to him that he could still see a shadow of grief in her eyes, just beneath the surface. The sadness was so subtle, so quiet without daring to speak out loud. It made his chest grow heavy.

"Is something wrong, Hotaru?" she asked, cocking her head a little. His name sounded impossibly beautiful again.

"I want to ask you something." Haganezuka turned to face her, suddenly stern. "Do you ever get to rest?"

"...What do you mean?"

"When you're out there, tending to the dead bodies and their abandoned swords. When you see the hell on earth that demons bring to humans." He spoke so bluntly that the young woman jolted and her eyes went wide, her face growing pale. "Does your spirit ever get a break for you to rest?" he asked, deathly serious. "You, the Kakushi, literally carry our swordsmen and look after them and let them rest. Even if they're dead. Even if they're in pieces." Without thinking, Haganezuka reached forward and grasped her shoulders. "But what about you? Who carries you? Who is there when you're the one who needs to rest?"

The young woman looked down at the ground, completely silent. Her shoulders began to tremble. "I..."

Haganezuka held her shoulders more gently when he realized that there were tears pooling beneath her eyes. He'd gone somewhere that she couldn't hide them.

"You don't have to worry about me...but thank you," she replied softly, almost a melancholy whisper.

Okay, that was it. "Listen," he told her, holding an intense gaze. "Remember all the things you just told me earlier? About my impact as a swordsmith and empowering Demon Slayers and all that." His face was turning red again, but he wanted to tell her. "That...made me really happy."

She was at a loss for words, but her face grew pink as she looked up and met his gaze.

"I want you to know that you give just as much as I do to the well-being of the Demon Slayers. You put so much care and dedication into making sure that they are looked after and can become strong enough to fight again. My swords won't do a thing to save them if they're still beaten up and left out there to die. Without the Kakushi, Demon Slayers would crumble without the strength to even lift a blade again. You keep them alive to fight, too."

"Hotaru..."

"But if you ever feel like you can't take it anymore," he went on, "If your spirit is shaken, you don't have to put on a smile and force yourself back out there right away. You...you can come to me." He never imagined that he'd be saying these kinds of words in his life, but it felt right. "You can tell me all about it, you can cry - anything at all that would help - I want you to come to me. You don't have to shoulder all the pain."

She nodded silently. Haganezuka felt her shoulders lift and then drop again with a sigh of relief, held steady by his calloused hands. He wasn't sure when their faces had gotten this close to each other, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. They were green like the fresh leaves of Spring that emerged after a long Winter.

It suddenly occurred to her that the sun had begun to set. "So, um...I think it's getting dark soon."

"Oh. Yeah, it is."

"What are we supposed to tell Tecchikawahara-san?"

The two of them shared a long, tender gaze.

"If you ask me, I'd tell the old man that there's going to be a wedding on Mount Yoko," Haganezuka declared. He paused for a moment and went still. "If...if that's okay with you." His voice grew quiet, suddenly afraid that she might recoil and run away from him like all the Demon Slayers. "If you'll have me."

"Yes, Hotaru," she told him gently. "With all my heart."

- The End

Thank you for reading💚

You have my gratitude forevermore for setting aside time for this little tale 🥹

POST-CREDITS AND COMMENTARY:

This is the first tumblr fanfic I've attempted, but I also posted it on AO3 here if anyone else likes to have a traditional story page format! I never intended to write a Demon Slayer fic at all actually! But in the light novel Haganezuka was down in the dumps for several days after the incident with the stinker who called swords barbaric; the chapter ends with Kotetsu's prayer that Spring will arrive for him one day. That was just too sad to me so I wanted to give Spring to Haganezuka myself :')

I intentionally left out any mention of Ms. Kakushi's name so that you can choose to interpret the POV or treat her face as more of a placeholder for yourself if you'd like. If you like the default OC, however, she's in fact a retcon and referenced from this young lady! Picked for her green eyes and presence in the Swordsmith's Village and hey, maybe they even glanced at each other. Here's her profile if you'd like to roll with it (link!)

I designed and illustrated the rest of her for this story using a combination of blank OC templates and body references to adapt to our hotheaded swordsmith. See the links below!

I also drew a random epilogue comic (link)

All fanart and overview of continuity

Care for Part 2?

REFERENCES:

Light Novel Chapter and Inspiration

Drawing Base 1

Drawing Base 2

Drawing Base 3

Drawing Base 4

Drawing Base 5

Drawing Base 6

#haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #haganezuka x you #haganezuka x oc #hotaru haganezuka #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #hotaru haganezuka x reader #hotaru haganezuka x you #hotaru haganezuka fic #hotaru haganezuka demon slayer #kny x you #kny x reader #haganezuka fanfiction

345 notes · View notes