#3 years has passed but it feels like we have been together forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosyblooom · 10 days

Note

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

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username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

username all time favourite wag ! 🥰

yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username ly girl🫶

username oh she won😩

username **they. they're both literally perfect omg username nah u right my bad🫡

scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

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tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

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scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

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8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

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f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

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disneyprincemuke · 28 days

Text

forever wouldn't wait for us * fem!driver

logan's moving out

pairings: 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: hi please give this attention im not even kidding how difficult it was to write this like i'm actually kinda sad

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

liam scowls, throwing his head back. he points his hand towards logan, sat on the couch, fiddling with a rubix cube he’d found underneath the couch. “you’re not even helping!”

“i didn’t know kidnapper took my rubix cube,” logan mutters.

the girl passes him, walking between the couch and the coffee table, snatching away the rubix cube from his hands. “you don’t even know how to play with a rubix cube,” she mutters, “and this is mine.”

logan huffs, rolling his eyes and throws his arms into the air. “you never let me have anything.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “you moved into my furnished apartment at the start of last year.”

“there’s gotta be something in the living room that’s mine,” logan frowns, looking around for something to take with him.

“what time are we drinking?” oscar throws his head back, looking over from the dining table. on the table is a set of uno cards messily strewn in different directions. on his right is lily and to his left is ylona with a small grin. “you guys are taking too long.”

“we wouldn’t be taking so long if everyone helped like they promised,” she huffs underneath her breath with a small eye roll. “anyway, logan’s still trying out being a thief right in front of my eyes.”

“babe,” ylona snorts, “don’t steal from rocky.”

mick walks out of logan’s room, a box of neatly folded clothes inside. he drops it right by the kitchen where the rest of logan’s boxes rest, stacked above one another. “logan loves stealing from rocky.”

“i do not!” logan defends himself. “wait, whatever. i’m just saying — there has to be something that’s mine in the living room. there’s no way that i was leeching off rocky the entire year and a half we stayed together.”

“you probably have more things in her parents’ home rather than here,” oscar points out, playing a card on the table. “hurry it up. i’m hungry and thirsty.”

she hadn’t expected logan to move out so soon. while she knew that living with logan for the rest of her life isn’t a viable arrangement, she hadn’t expected him to decide to pack up and live with his girlfriend while being together for less than a year.

he had told her about a month ago, at the start of september that he’d be moving in with ylona. not too far away, just an apartment down the road. but it still feels like a part’s of her being torn from her — the same way she felt when oscar had moved out of her parents’ when he landed a reserve driver spot with alpine.

she didn’t expect the 3 of them to live together for the rest of time, but it’s just weird to spend growing up every single day with them for years to end up barely talking sometimes outside of race weekends.

“rocky, what do you think?”

she maintains her blank stare on kidnapper, sleeping under the coffee table with a hum. “think of what?”

“let’s head out for dinner as a quick pick-me-up,” mick grins slightly, “and then we drop by the store to get drinks then we continue packing. when we’re done with that, we drink! how’s that sound?”

she lifts her head with a small grin. “yeah, absolutely.”

the uneasy feeling in her chest never leaves the entire evening. from the moment they’d all spilled out of the apartment to grab dinner, asking each other where they should eat to the moment they were stumbling back in to pack what’s left of logan’s clothes.

she sits in the living room now in silence, playing with kidnapper with one of the toys she’d gotten him in a dim corner. everyone else is in logan’s room, helping fold and pack what mick hadn’t gotten in boxes earlier.

“hey, are you okay? you’ve been here since we came home from dinner.” she glances over her shoulder, a small grin spreading her lips at the man now taking a seat next to her on the ground by the cat tree. “i’m surprised you haven’t started crying yet. remember when i moved out of your parents’?”

she throws her head back with a soft groan and an eye roll. “that seems like forever ago.”

“it was,” oscar laughs, leaning back against the wall as kidnapper curiously climbs on his lap. “how do you feel now that you’ll be living alone?”

“not sure,” she shrugs, dropping her head with a soft chuckle. “i like living with logan, you know? everyday was a party.”

“living by yourself can still be party, you know,” he points out and rests his head on the wall behind him. “you knew we weren’t going to be around forever.”

she presses her lips together as she tries to navigate the lines in her head and pinpoint why she’s always so upset when either of them move out. perhaps she feels left behind once more?

sure, that lingering feeling of jealousy arose occasionally when they were younger, always progressing with their racing careers without her at times. but there’s no reason to feel this way at 21 when they’re all at the same stages of life.

“i mean… before logan asked if he could move in with me, i was prepared to be live by myself. but you know,” she trails off as she lifts her head with trembling lips. “that was a year and a half ago.”

“aw, mate,” oscar coos, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on her knee. “i know he sprung this on you a little too soon. but you’ll be fine, you know?”

“i know,” she grins, craning her neck back to sigh at oscar. “i’m going to let him take stubby with him. i know the bond they’ve formed, you know? i’m going to miss that dog.”

“you know you don’t have to. you adopted stubby.”

“just seems cruel to keep stubby when he very clearly prefers logan over me.” she takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. “we should help them out so we can drink with them, right?”

oscar glances down at the black cat that’s settled in his lap. “i can’t get up — kidnapper’s on my lap. it’s your turn now.”

she rolls her eyes but still slowly gets up from her spot. “i will be back for my cat, oscar piastri.”

“i know it was sudden when i told you i was planning to move out,” logan mutters, lifting his head to look at the girl in the single seater couch across the room. “i’m sorry.”

the girl looks up from her phone, her screen illuminating her face with a small grin and flushed cheeks from the drinks they’d consumed. the empty glass bottles riddle the floor of their — no, her — living room. “we can’t be roommates forever. it’s okay.”

around them are liam and mick, passed out in their individual spots with pillows and blankets strewn over their bodies. oscar and lily are coddled up in her bed and logan’s got ylona’s head in his lap as she lies on the couch with stubby in her arms.

“i’m sorry i didn’t even ask you what you thought about it at first,” he admits. “you let me move into your apartment then i just spring my decision to move out 3 weeks ahead of time. i’m sorry, rocky.”

“it’s okay, really. like–”

“dude.” the firmness in her voice makes her drop her phone into her stomach. she sits upright with a small grin on her face and a heavy sigh. “i’m sorry. 2024 hasn’t been great for our friendship.”

she laughs softly, dropping her back against her seat. “are you talking about the crash? that was months ago, mate. i totally overreacted. so much for ‘whatever happens on the track, stays on the track’. i’m sorry.”

but meeting his eyes across the room, her smile fades when she notices that he’s not smiling or giggling along with her. “you know what i’m apologising for.”

tears flood her eyes and she forces herself to look away to wipe them away. “mate. it’s been 9 months.”

“stop brushing it off,” logan whispers, shaking his head. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my best friend — you know that, right? nothing’s changing. i’m just 2 blocks down the road; call me if you need me.”

she smiles, hanging her head as she turns to look at him. “likewise. take stubby with you, by the way. he seems to be very fond of you and ylona, anyway.”

“what? no, that’s crazy. stubby is your dog.”

she shakes her head and holds a hand up to stop him from talking. and she knows that he knows what that means — there’s nothing he can say to change her mind. “take him. he’ll be happier with you guys.”

logan’s stare lingers on her, smiling back before she picks up her phone from her stomach. “you should bring ylona to your bed. the couch is uncomfortable, mate.”

logan grins. “okay. do you want to share the bed with her? i know oscar and lily’s fallen asleep in yours. i can sleep out here if you want.”

she shakes her head, following his gaze as he carefully manoeuvres ylona to guide her back to his room. “i’ll be okay. you don’t have to look out for me so much anymore, mate. i’m a big girl.”

“everything’s in the car,” oscar calls out from down the hall, popping his head from the corner that leads to their life lobby. “need a minute?”

“i’ll be down in a second,” logan answers, looking over his shoulder as oscar nods firmly and disappears into the corner. he lets out a shaky breath before he turns back to the small girl standing by the door, handle in her hands as she leans against the door frame. “i’m going to miss living with you.”

she smiles, another tear falling right out of her eye. “i’m going to miss you too. it’s okay that we’re like this, right? we’ve lived together for almost a decade — it’s weird not waking up to your breakfast.”

“don’t skip breakfast, okay?” he presses his lips together. “take care of yourself, dude.”

she laughs her sob out, more tears starting to roll down her cheeks. she sighs, palms over her face as she shies her emotions away. “this is so stupid. i’m literally coming over to help you move in in an hour. i just need to take a shower and feed kidnapper some breakfast.”

logan snorts, throwing his head back, tears slowly leaving his eyes. “10 years is a long time to be living together. we’re still best friends even if we’re not living together. we’ve made it work with oscar, haven’t we?”

“obviously,” she mutters. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

“okay,” logan grins. he leans down, wrapping both arms around her smaller frame and tightens his grip. “i’m sorry again for how things turned out. you’ll always be my best friend, you know that, right?”

she stumbles into him, tiptoeing as she tries to keep her feet on the ground as he squeezes her and lifts her off the ground slightly. “i know. you’ll always be my bestest friend in the entire world, lo. forever wasn’t going to wait for us.”

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writingstoraes · 10 months

Text

secret trip 🛫

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this seemed like a really cute idea so! lmk what u guys think 🤍 requests for charles imagines are open btw! pls send some cause my own ideas r betraying me rn lolol

about: the entire grid seems to be going to italy together, fans can't seem to put the pieces together!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, ferrarifan, wagsf1, and 234,110 others

yourusername with love, italy

isahernaez Have fun, babes ❤️

yourusername wish you were here 😣

wagslove SOOO GORGEOUS

charles_leclerc My beautiful angel

yourusername love you, handsome :D

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen, and 1,334,982 others

charles_leclerc Loving the view a little too much, loving my muse the most.

f1films Charles and Y/N vacationing in Italy is something I never knew I needed

mercgirl I think they're with some of the drivers, check their stories

pierregasly Have the best time 😝

arthurleclerc No picture of me?

charles_leclerc Leave the hotel for once?

carlossainz55 and pierregasly recently added to their instagram stories!

danielricciardo and landonorris recently added to their instagram stories!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, pascale_leclerc, and 345,892 others

yourusername good food, good times, and the best people ❤️

pierregasly Someone pass the salt

carlossainz55 Why did you feel the need to ask that here pierregasly Why do you wanna know? 🙄

charles_leclerc No one told me Max gets wine drunk...

yourusername i say whoever ordered the wine takes care of him danielricciardo That champagne saving me right now 🤣

ferrarihorse I didn't know all of you were all so close omg this is adorable

charlesfearless italy with my loml and friends... now i want that

yourusername and charles_leclerc recently added to their instagram stories!

Trans: Nothing I'd love more than spending a lifetime with you.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, isahernaez, and 501,221 others

yourusername the answer to the million dollar question — why everyone seems to have flown to italy, well it's because today, i married the love of my life who also happens to be my best friend and my answered prayer.

i have had the best time conquering the world with you, my love. from the big romantic moments to the small mundane things, you make life more pleasurable. here's to forever 🥂

tagged: charles_leclerc

charlosfan aaaa an intimate wedding! truly one of the best option, congratulations to my favorite couple <3

yourusername thank you love! it really was nice being surrounded by close friends and family ❤️

scuderiaferrari Best wishes, Y/N and Charles! We still remember your first paddock appearance as a couple; time truly has flown!

charlieferrari I KNEW ITTTT MY FRIEND OWES ME 50 DOLLARS LOL

yourusername hahaha thank you for the faith then 🙏

lewishamilton Congratulations once again, you two! What an honor to be there as you celebrate a new milestone in your life together 🎉

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, lewishamilton, and 1,982,221 others

charles_leclerc Exactly five years ago, I could not resist asking for your first name just so I could see you again. Today, you took mine.

J'ai hâte de passer ma vie à t'aimer. I cannot wait to spend my life loving you.

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly Haha you weren't best man carlossainz55

carlossainz55 You weren't either?

maxverstappen Time to bring out the wine 🍷

charles_leclerc No landonorris No danielricciardo With love, no

carlossainz55 Overflowing best wishes, mate! You owe me for actually sending Y/N the text of you wanting to ask her out 😁

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tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12

notes: believe it or not this prompt has been gathering dust on my notes lol lmk what u guys think! also lmk if anyone wants to be a part of my permanent taglist :)

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xnchxntmxnt · 10 months

Note

We need more solomon x reader ffs

How about a jealous Solomon because he gets constantly cock blocked by the demon brothers and in the end he makes an angry love confession to the reader?

Jealousy

Characters: Solomon

Warnings: possibly some minor cursing

Notes: ok this ended up not being an angry love confession but i believe in talking about emotions healthily <3. Also i just liked this resolution SORRY ITS NOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU ASKED !!!

gn reader

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send an ask to join my taglist

He couldn’t believe this.

Again.

For the nth time since he’d realized his complicated feelings about you, those stupid brothers found continual ways to keep him from getting any alone time with you. There you were, agreeing to make dinner with him before being called away by Mammon again so he could have your assistance with dinner. And being their attendant at this point in time, you had to agree.

That didn’t mean he liked it.

He ate some poorly cooked chicken for dinner and didn’t even touch the scorched vegetables—his cooking wasn't incredible, but even this was a new low. He was too distracted while he was cooking though. Too busy thinking about you.

When you finally got back to your dormitories (that was the best thing to call it at the moment), he was still rather irritated, but instead of fuming or yelling at you, he curled up on the couch with a book to take his mind off of everything.

“Solomon?” you asked, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him. “You alright over there?”

“Perfect,” he said, tone short and curt with you. He didn’t mean it to be rude, but he had too many things on his mind and he didn't want to be disturbed.

You sighed and he watched you cover yourself with the blanket out of the corner of his eye. Frustrating as the situation was, he couldn’t stand the thought that he was the reason for the small pout that sat on your face.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, placing his finger in the book and closing it. “It’s not your fault—I shouldn't be taking my frustration out on you.”

“What’s wrong?”

That was the question of the hour, it seemed. He had to decide now: tell you and risk the relationship you’d built together, or keep it a secret and leave you wondering if he was upset with you. Neither of those were lovely options, but he had to weigh his odds in a split second.

“I…I wanted to spend more time with you this evening,” he admitted, speaking much softer than he had been. He’d deny it adamantly, but the tips of his ears were slightly pink (and gaining color the longer he spoke). “I feel like I haven’t…been able to spend enough time with you. Those pesky brothers continue to steal you away from me.”

You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he continued. This was going to be the hardest part. “(Y/N), in my hundreds of years of living, I've never met someone quite like you. And I've met a lot of people. You…there’s something special about you—some spark—that I can’t ignore. You’re dedicated, passionate, and a joy to be around, frankly. And I…I guess I've grown to be quite fond of you. And maybe a little jealous…”

It took a moment for the information he just gave you to sink in. He watched as the realization dawned on your face and hated every second of silence that passed as it did. After what felt like forever, you smiled at him. Smiled.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re telling me the all powerful warlock Solomon has a crush on me?” you asked, grin spreading wider and wider on your face.

He groaned and hit himself on the head with his book. “I take it back! You’re terrible to me. I give you my heart and you proceed to make fun of me, how dare you!” He couldn’t be angry at you, though. Really, he was trying his best to hold in his laughter.

When he opened his eyes again, you were sitting next to him instead of across the couch. You looked adorable with that mischievous glint in your eye he didn’t exactly trust.

“What?” he asked. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re plotting.”

“I’m not plotting!”

“You’re plotting something.”

Without any extra room to argue, you leaned in and placed a dramatic kiss on his lips, complete with a small ‘mwah’ sound. He sat there, stunned for a moment, mind short-circuiting under the circumstances.

“You-you just-”

“I did.”

“And you-”

“Breathe, first,” you teased, smiling a bit softer at him. “You should have said something ages ago. I would have made sure to make more time for you. And for what it’s worth…I’m quite fond of you too.” You dropped your voice, trying to mock his earlier words. In response, he shoved your shoulder and laughed.

“You’re horrible to me!” he complained again, though he couldn’t find it in himself to stop smiling. This is everything he’d wanted for ages—to have you, to love you, and feel that affection in return. Now he had it, and there wasn’t a reason in the world he’d throw it away.

taglist

@grays321 @kodzukoi @kage7ama @poeberlyavenue

#//ɪɴʙᴏx #//ᴏʀɪɢɴᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ #//ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ #solomon #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon x gn reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gn reader #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #mammon #obey me mammon #omswd #omnb

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bishopsbeloved · 3 months

Text

the art of falling in love (part four)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

read this fic on ao3!

Natalia Romanova has lived her whole life in maybes.

When she was five years old and first banished to an orphanage in a far vast snowy corner of Russia, she thought to herself, okay. Maybe this will be the place that I find my forever family. Surely no place can be worse than that which I have come from. But the other girls she lived with were taller and crueler, and almost a year passed before a certain scraggly blonde rascal stumbled into sharing a room with her. Without hesitation she began causing havoc for every single resident. Natalia liked her immediately. It was not long before the two would share a bed at night and call one another sister.

Maybe I was right, Natalia would think to herself sleepily, as she and tiny Yelena huddled together beneath a duvet to survive the cold winter nights. Maybe this is my forever family.

It only took one day for that to fall apart for her, though. It hadn’t even occurred to her that someone might adopt Yelena without her too, or vice versa. And when that happened, and Yelena was torn away, she was at a loss.

“Не волнуйся,” Yelena reassured her as she sped around their tiny bedroom, gathering her many trinkets and treasures into a bag. “It’s okay. My mama and papa, they are very lovely, they promise they will come back for you. We will be a family together, in America. A new start. Together.” She held out a pinky earnestly.

“Together,” Natalia repeated, sealing the deal.

But two years after Yelena’s departure, she began to wonder if maybe her sister had been wrong.

She still can’t remember much of the day that they finally, finally came back for her. She was eight, and you and Yelena were both seven. Of course, she didn’t know you even existed at first — not until the long journey back, gazing down at the motherland below them as they left it behind, when Yelena babbled endlessly about her new best friend she’d made in Ohio. She doesn’t remember much of that, either — the whole day felt too perfect to be real. It’s all a blur. But still to this day, proudly framed by Alexi and hung above the fireplace, are the photos he took the day she came home.

Only a week into her life in Ohio did she ask her mother if she could change her name. Natalia Romanova was too difficult for Americans to pronounce, and it didn’t feel American. It felt as though it were just another of countless things that screamed I don’t belong. Maybe it would help her feel more acclimated to her new home. And when she worded it like that, who was Melina to deny her? So Natalia Romanova became Natasha Romanoff. You barely even batted an eyelid when the news reached you, and she’d often catch herself smiling when you went out of your way to use her full name in any situation you could.

Although it feels as though she’s loved you forever, it’s true that she was wary of you at first. That fateful moment she first met you, you came tearing into her new home to spend time with her sister and she was scared you’d take her away — but you didn’t. You shared her. And as time went on you began to share parts of yourself with Nat, too.

She’ll remember the day you won her over until her dying breath. December 3 — almost six months since she first moved to Ohio, and her first birthday there. You’d stayed over the night before, as you often did even then, and in the morning you approached her with wide adoring eyes and something clasped carefully in your hands.

“Natasha,” you began, with a slight tremor in your voice, “um, it is your birthday, obviously,” you glanced over at the gaudy banners Alexi had strung proudly around the house in declaration of this fact, “and, uhm, I know we haven’t known each other super long, or anything, but, yeah,” you finished lamely, and held out your hands to her, opening them up. “I found this super cool rock. Alexi helped me clean it. It’s pink.”

It was super cool, Natasha decided. Pink had become her favourite colour as of late — ever since she’d learnt that in America it’s for girls. She looked from the sparkly rock to your earnest, hopeful face and back again, and decided then and there that she loved you. (And maybe you even loved her back.)

The nature of said love did not make itself known to her for a good few years; even before it did, she made her best efforts to dismiss it, though. She very quickly learnt just how American girls were supposed to be — which did not include bright blue hair, or a desire to kiss other girls. Within just a few days of starting public school Natasha had bleached the dye from her hair, quashed down any potential interest in Daphne from Scooby Doo, and at night would carefully practise the American way of pronouncing words in the mirror — without her gentle Russian tinge. She tacked up posters of male pop stars in her room, and began to strategically pick which boys in her class she’d be crushing on next. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept all of this up then she’d be able to fit into her surroundings the way she was somehow never able to in the orphanage.

And for the most part, she did. She found herself becoming one of the most popular girls in class. She’d discovered that actually she was very good at fitting in, as long as she paid enough attention to everyone else. And she felt good about herself — as long as she didn’t pay attention to you and Yelena, who were entirely unbothered by the social norms she adhered so much to, and seemed a whole lot better off for it. It was entirely uncool to be so close with your sister. Her annoying little sister, and her quiet lovely best friend. Yes, as long as she avoided the two of you wherever she could, she’d be fine.

That’s how the years passed, for a long time. Natasha eventually outgrew her desire to distance herself from Yelena, and she returned to the protective tendencies she had harboured for the blonde when they were so young and alone, but what she didn’t outgrow was her need to fit in. That followed her way into high school. By sophomore year she was cheer captain and everyone in school knew her name. (She wasn’t mean, though, she always made sure of that. And she made it known that if anyone were to mess with Yelena — or you, by extension, as by this point people had started referring to you as the twins — there would be consequences.) She had friends, she had boyfriends, she had invites to parties. And as long as Natasha pretended she didn’t have a massive interest in you or a mental list of your likes and dislikes, she would be fine. Probably.

When she was sixteen she realised with startling clarity that the massive interest she acted as though she didn’t have in you was love. She and two of her good friends, Sharon and Maria, were animatedly discussing whether Sharon really loved her boyfriend or not. And the way love was described, romantic love, was identical to what she felt for you (and what any idiot could tell you felt for her, as much as everyone seemed to have agreed to pretend that you didn’t). An inexplicable attraction drawing her to you, an interest in anything you were interested in (see that time she was ten and stayed up all night researching your favourite cartoon just so she could discuss it with you over breakfast the next morning), a desire to just be with you forever. That was love. She loved you.

Oh, shit.

“You’re awful quiet, Nat,” Maria commented. Natasha cleared her throat and took a sip of juice. “Anything on your mind?”

“Just that Sharon needs to dump her shitbag of a boyfriend,” she replied shortly. Maria clapped her hands together in triumph, while Sharon let out a huff of annoyance.

“That’s what I keep saying,” Maria told her proudly, as Sharon spluttered in protest. The discussion resumed and the matter was forgotten. Natasha shoved her discovery to the back of her mind, hoping and praying she could un-discover it. Maybe if she did, things would stay okay.

Try as she might, she couldn’t, but she has tried; more determined than ever to be the perfect American girl. Over dinners she pretends to be annoyed at the teasing, saying that her accent’s gone, she’s no Russian, the American agenda has got her, that she’s almost as American as you.

“Our token Yankees,” Alexi often says merrily, to this day, clapping both you and her on the back with force that makes you wince and her giggle. She’ll whine and wrinkle her nose at him (while you just sit and blush), but secretly revel in the praise that her efforts have been so fruitful.

Barely any time into this school year, her senior year, she realised that she hadn’t had a boyfriend for a suspiciously long time.

“You and James would be cute,” offered Sharon, pointing with her fork at where her good friend and fellow Slav sat across the cafeteria, laughing about something.

“Yes,” came Natasha’s thoughtful reply, “we would, wouldn’t we?”

Every single aspect of her life was coldly calculated, unfeeling, sterile. Natasha Romanoff knew what she wanted and she would obtain it. Her pursuit of Bucky Barnes was no different. He was politely reciprocal at first, and the two entered what Nat’s friends called a situationship over the coming months. It wasn’t until a Stark house party that he turned her down.

“Natasha,” he said gently, and the word was so loud despite the music that blared only a few rooms away. He only had to say that and she knew. She sighed, and sat down on the bed in defeat, only to look up in surprise at his next words.

“I don’t… I like Steve.”

Not even Natasha could understand why she started crying. But Buck was so kind, so patient, and he held her until her tears dried. When she could speak evenly again she opened her mouth and everything came flooding out. The way she felt for you and her deep, innate fear of being different.

Bucky was quiet for a few moments in contemplation. Then he said, “I’m scared, too. Me and Steve are like you and Y/N, we known each other all our lives, and it’s like, what if whatever I do or say or feel ruins that? But you gotta… it’s…” He scratched at the back of his head. “You gotta trust it’ll work out. If you love each other proper, then even if she don’t like you back, you’ll still have her. In your life. It’ll be okay, you know. You just gotta have faith.”

Of course, Natasha knew without a shadow of a doubt how hopelessly head over heels you were for her. Rejection wasn’t what she feared. But she wasn’t sure how to word that to Bucky without sounding entirely conceited, so she just nodded. After that night, though, the two were a whole lot closer, and in no time at all they established a kind of beard situation — they’d act ambiguously involved in public so that in private they could affiliate with the ones their hearts truly desired. It wasn’t as though there weren’t queer people within their school, because of course there were, but both feared for the loss of their social standing so intensely that they saw no other option.

It was Bucky who pushed Nat to kiss you at the New Year’s party.

“If it goes wrong, come find me and we’ll drink,” he shouted over the blaring music. Both of them knew it wouldn’t go wrong, though.

But she drank anyway — for luck, she told herself, downing an impressive amount in one. She was Russian, even when she pretended she was not. A perk of that was being able to handle her liquor.

The New Year’s kiss famously went swimmingly, and Nat felt so giddy the next morning that she marvelled she hadn’t done this sooner. The two of you began to sneak around, which pleased her greatly, but she felt the words you didn’t say during the silence that would sometimes descend on the two of you. Your slight twitchiness, the way you would work yourself up to say something only to dismiss it at the last second. You didn’t want to ask what are we? for fear of the probable answer — and Natasha didn’t have an answer for you, anyway. She liked the way things were now; she had a pretty girl wrapped around her finger who she could sneak around with in private, and she could simultaneously maintain the social status she’d always had in public. She was certain that if you were ever to make her pick between the two she would spiral. Eventually you seemed to take the hint, and the hopeful silences stopped.

It never really occurred to her that she wasn’t treating you well until quite a few months into your relationship — around June, after Stark’s spring break party, once Yelena had started teasing you about a mystery girl. Every time it was mentioned in front of her she would tense, but you handled it with surprising and admirable nonchalance, and her sister seemed to have no suspicion it was her that was spoken of.

Natasha came back late one night from a hangout with friends. She’d forgotten her key and, assuming everyone was asleep, decided to let herself in through the garage rather than disturb anyone. But you and Yelena were still up and enjoying a quiet night in, as the two of you often did, huddled together under blankets on the sofa in a way that would make Natasha reminisce on the way she and Yelena used to do that in the orphanage — except they had done that to survive the bitter cold, whilst the two of you did so merely to enjoy reality TV reruns. It warmed Natasha to see her baby sister happy, at least.

The noise of one Kardashian fighting another (Natasha always got them mixed up) drowned out her quiet arrival, and the two of you were mid-conversation. She made for the stairs, not really wanting nor caring to intrude, but froze as she tuned into Yelena’s next words.

“You never really mention your mystery girl anymore, anyway,” the blonde was saying. “Did something happen? I can hurt someone.”

Natasha craned her neck to catch your next words.

“Nothing happened,” you said quietly. Defeatedly. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t think she likes me as much as I like her.”

“Ah, конечно нет, impossible,” drawled Yelena. “You are adorable, утенок. Everyone likes you.”

You murmured something unintelligible, and Yelena scoffed, but Natasha didn’t need to hear any more. She crawled up the stairs as if the world were about to slip away from beneath her feet. Suddenly everything around her was so overwhelmingly real, and she realised with sickening clarity that you were real, too. She spent the rest of that night lying in her bed, unsleeping, unmoving, counting the paint strokes on the ceiling and wondering if she could’ve gone her whole life without knowing that she’s a bad person. Maybe she has.

That was probably the beginning of the end. When she looked you the next morning it was as though she was seeing you for the first time — you were quiet, you were pale, there were dark circles under your eyes. You were smaller somehow, as though something had defeated you completely. And Nat knew in that moment that she was too much of a coward to give herself to you, so the kindest thing she could do was let you go. If she was lucky then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t lose you completely if she set you free now.

Right now it’s prom night. Seeing you dancing with Sam was one of the most gut-wrenching sights she’s ever endured, but he at least seems to make you happier than she ever did. It didn’t make her very happy to look at, though, so she convinced Buck to drop her home on his way back to Steve’s. (Prom was their first official date and, as Buck informed her with a proud grin as she left the car, it went fantastic.) Melina and Alexi are out — every other Friday is their date night, and while Yelena groans and gags at how ridiculously in love their parents are, Natasha just finds it sweet and hopes she’ll have something like that someday. But you’re the closest it’s ever come to that for her, and she’s fucked that one. Royally.

“Hi, Liho,” she opens the front door and mumbles to the cat, who is sat in the hall expectantly. His haunches rise defensively, and Nat just sighs. He is very much your cat, not hers, and in recent times he seems to have been picking up on the turmoil she’s been putting you through. “Look, man, she’s out being happy, without me. Isn’t that enough?”

Liho hisses, and stalks with his head held high out of the front door.

“Yeah, whatever, leave then,” Nat grumbles, and kicks the door shut behind him. Even through the thick oakwood she can hear the noises of annoyance he makes back at her.

She kicks off her heels and throws herself onto the sofa, and lays there for a long time. It would be nice, she thinks to herself, if she could just stay here forever, and never have to face the world again. And she does for a while, but eventually the front door slams, bringing in cold air and with it the announcement that you and Yelena are home. Nat tenses as she recognises the sounds of your crying, and leaps to her feet, sliding across the smooth wooden floors in her stockinged feet towards you.

“What’s going on?” she pants, taking in the scene. You’re cradling something dark and vaguely furry to your chest, and Yelena is fussing over it worriedly. She realises like a punch to the gut that it’s Liho you’re holding. “Holy shit, what —”

She freezes as she realises she’s the one who let him outside. Is he supposed to outside? She doesn’t know anything about this goddamn cat, he’s not hers. Shit.

“Call Alexi,” you choke out. Natasha stands still frozen in shock, so Yelena lets out a mutter of “бесполезный” and charges towards the landline herself.

“Are you— okay?” Nat tries uncertainly. “What —”

“Piss off, Nat,” you cry. Ouch. Okay, she probably deserves that.

“Sorry,” she says quietly, and steps back from you. You stand in silence for a few moments until Yelena comes skidding back out into the hall.

“He’s nearly home anyway,” she pants. “He says don’t call the vet, not until Ma has looked him, we should just stop the bleeding. It was definitely a car, probably a hit and run so he said to check the doorbell camera thingy. What is their name?”

“That is the scientific term, yes,” Natasha nods, and you make a noise that’s both a laugh and a sob. “Um, I think Dad has the app on his iPad.” Not that he knows how to use it. He’s such a comedically giant man that seeing him trying to navigate the tiny device offers her a steady stream of entertainment. (“Глупый кусок жести. Делай как я говорю!”)

“On it,” Yelena nods, and sprints off to where she last saw the device.

“I’m sorry,” Nat offers again, once her sister’s out of earshot.

“Not now, Nat,” you sigh tiredly, and you sound so broken that she just wants to scoop you up and protect you from all the evil in the world. But she’s subjected you to that evil, whether she meant to or not, and now she has to deal with the consequences.

Yelena is gone and oddly quiet for a suspiciously long time.

“You okay?” you call, cupping the cat desperately to your chest as you pad off in search of her. Unsure of what else to do, Natasha follows you, hanging behind awkwardly and making sure to give you enough space.

Yelena is stood still as anything in the kitchen, staring at the iPad propped up on the counter, rewatching one clip over and over on the security camera app. Nat can’t tell what it’s of, at first, but the exact moment you realise you let out a squeak, and squeeze Liho even closer to your chest. Only a moment later does Natasha understand what it is.

It’s from quite a while ago — the timestamp says sometime late at night in March. In the clip Nat’s car pulls up onto the driveway, with her at the wheel and you in the passenger’s seat. Once the car stops, Nat leans over and she kisses you. And you kiss back. On camera.

Liho lets out a noise of pain at how tightly you’re gripping him to you. Yelena stares blankly at the screen as the video plays over and over again.

“Lena?” you ask quietly, and when the blonde turns round her eyes are glossy. “I don’t —”

The next thing Natasha knows is a sharp pain shooting through her nose, and she steps back in shock, because there’s no way Yelena’s just hit her.

“What the fuck,” Yelena says, and there’s that scratchy sound to her voice that’s only ever there when she’s trying not to cry. “The one person who is off limits and you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Lena,” you cry out in alarm as the blonde raises her fist again. “Don’t, it wasn’t — it was an accident —”

“Oh, what,” she’s rounding on you now, “so you just slipped and fell into my sister’s —”

“No,” you plead desperately, “it wasn’t like that.”

“You were the mystery girl all along,” Yelena shouts, and presses her lips together with her eyes screwed tightly shut. “All the time you were right there. You lied to me.” She raises her fist again, but Nat is prepared this time and catches it neatly in her own.

“Don’t,” she says evenly, but she isn’t prepared for the hatred that burns in the green eyes that meet hers.

“How many months were you sneaking around behind my back?” Yelena hisses. Nat still holds her wrist tightly, so she merely turns her head to address you next. “Ты - лжец, how long have you been using me for her?”

“I wasn’t,” you plead, and whatever is shouted after that is indiscernible. After a few moments of noise the front door opens again, and Melina and Alexi stumble in, with a sense of urgency about them.

“Oh goodness, what is all this shouting, girls?” Melina asks loudly, and at the sound of her raised voice you all instinctively fall quiet. “In fact, this is not important. Where is this poor cat?”

You hold out the bundle of bandages and fur to her, face shiny with tears, and she scoops him up gently. “Will he be okay?”

“I don’t know,” she says shortly. “I will get him to the vet. I’ll call you.” She kisses your forehead, then Yelena’s, then Natasha’s on the way out and the front door slams behind her.

Yelena turns on you again with no less venom than before.

“You,” she says, “are not my family. And neither are you,” she adds to Natasha. “Do not speak to me.” She storms out of the room, and you, Nat and Alexi watch her leave, stunned.

“Well,” says Alexi with a jovial chuckle, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, “she seems a little upset, да?”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

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thrashyraccoon · 3 months

Text

Jealous Guy (Jealous!Eddie Munson x Reader)

___________________________________________

Summary: Another guy starts hanging around you at work and Eddie is concerned about it.

___________________________________________

You and Eddie have been together for a year and have known each other for two years since you moved to Hawkins. You met in high school, but you've already graduated and work at one of the few grocery stores in town, which Eddie is struggling to finish his senior year. Your relationship is still going very well, as it was at the beginning, but now the boy had reasons to be jealous. A nondescript Harry started hanging around your workplace, or more precisely you. A guy five years older with short blonde hair who wears leather almost 24/7. Of course, Eddie had never seen him. He heard that description from you because you told him about Harry, that he was nice and loved metal as much as Eddie. Then the boy thought to himself "it's cool, I won't forbid my partner from talking to customers in the store. Until he met one of your shift colleagues while picking you up from shift." Be careful, young, a certain guy comes up too often during your girlfriend's shifts. " He heard from a middle-aged woman in a work T-shirt, blond, medium curly hair, currently smoking a cigarette during her five-minute break, which usually lasted forever. And that's when fear and jealousy appeared in the boy. If he says she's a woman who ignores everything that's going on around her (including angry customers), so there must be something to it. A week has passed since the previous information and Eddie couldn't be bothered about it. He really hated being jealous of you and didn't want to be with you to argue about this guy. Eddie knew you loved him, but what if you realized he wasn't a good match for you after all and started dating Harry. After all, you were young, you had just finished school, many dreams were still ahead of you. And he? He couldn't even pass school, twice. So, not wanting to start a misunderstanding, he decided to drive over to your workplace after school, when you still had a few hours before your shift started, to meet the employee he talked to last week.

…

Boy got deya vu. Just like that time, a bored blonde was standing in front of the store door, smoking her cigarette. "Hey, can we talk? I have a case." said Eddie, who was glared at by the woman in response. After a second, however, she returned to her previous activity. “It's about the guy who hangs around y/n.”

This time, without even looking at the metalworker, the employee extended her hand towards him, gesturing for him to give her the cash.

"I have 5 dollars on me," he took out a bill, which she took literally in less than a second and put it in her cleavage.

"He often comes for a Marlboro and they reheat the pizza, it's usually when your partner is there. They always talks eachother" She said, taking another puff of the cigarette

"I know that he's coming. Do you know what they're talking about?" The blonde once again made the payment gesture. The boy took out cash and gave the woman "I have $3 more."

"He hangs around and that I've heard him compliment twice, but y/n seems unfazed by it. You don't have to worry about it."

On the one hand, the metalhead breathed a sigh of relief after this statement because he knew that his partner was not going to leave him for someone else, but on the other hand, he lost $8 irretrievably because of this information. However, he didn't feel confident about the fact that his lover was surrounded by a other guy. For peace of mind, he decided to talk to you about it without any secondary conclusions."

"Thanks so much for the information."

"No problem. Now get out of here or you're disrupting my shift, shaggy."

…

A day has passed since the conversation with your supervisor. Eddie was sitting on the bed in his room planning the next d&d campaign for next Friday since we had nothing to do until you got back from your noon shift. Just then, the boy heard the front door open and Uncle Wayne's voice announcing that "Eddie's in his room." The bedroom door opened, but the metal man didn't bother to look who came in because he knew full well it was you.

“Hi Eds,” you said, giving the boy a kiss on his full head of hair. After a while, you placed a few patches on the bed your boyfriend occupied, and the boy immediately looked at them out of curiosity.

"Thank you babe." He said, reaching for the first one on the bank, caressing it between his fingers. "Oh cool, Black Sabbath. Where are you from?"

"I got it from Harry, he said he didn't need it."

After that sentence, a confused Eddie fell silent and threw away the patch. The feeling of jealousy came to the fore again. He had to be sure now.

"Hey, what's going on?" You said, looking worriedly at your boyfriend as you sat on the edge of his bed.

"Honey, will you be honest with me?"

"Always with you, Eds."

"Do…do you like Harry?" In response, he heard quite loud laughter, but not loud enough to wake up the neighbors around him. "Babe, I'm serious!"

You decided to keep a straight face and answer him with complete honesty "Eds, honey, for me he's just a friend with whom I talk when he comes over. In fact, he tries to flirt with me, but to no avail. Anyway, first of all, I told him that I have a boyfriend, and secondly, Harry isn't even my type, he looks like the lead singer of Judas Priest-"

"Good, now I have no chance at all with him!!!" The metal man shouted, cutting you off by dramatically slamming his weight onto the bed.

Watching with amusement, you decided to continue your statement, moving closer to Eddie, "Eds, I prefer guys with Van Halen looks…"

"There's still some Eddie Van Ha-" hanging around! He continued to dramatize until he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Ouh, baby, for what?"

"You're the guy with the Van Halen look, idiot!"

After Eddie analyzed the statement for a moment, the only thing he managed to choke out was a sound of understanding.

"Besides, even if Van Halen came in here, I wouldn't leave you for him, stupid," you said, giggling slightly, then brought your hands closer to Eddie's face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hugged him. "I think you and Harry should get to know each other."

"You know, honey, this is actually a good idea." He replied, hugging you closer to him. “It's time to explain that you don't flirt with other people-ouh,” he stopped after you smacked him lightly on the forehead a second time, this time.

"No fighting in the store, Eds!"

"I know, I know," Eddie said, laughing, "Just kidding, sweetheart."

#thrashy post #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson my beloved

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harrysfolklore · 2 years

Note

Bubba's first day of school!!

4th day !! thank you for sticking by we’re almost done <3 i have to be honest, this is my favorite written piece i’ve done so give it some loooove

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated ! | support me

"Are we sure he needs to go?" Harry's whiny voice echoed through your ears, you were currently in the kitchen packing your baby boy's lunch, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with crackers and star shaped kiwis and strawberries, just how he liked it.

"We talked about this, H, he's four now he needs to go to school," you told your whiny husband, turning around to look at him and noticing the prominent pout on his face "Oh come on, stop being dramatic, It's just going to be a few hours and he'll be back home." you moved towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and looking up at him, he gave you the biggest puppy eyes you've ever seen and you internally chuckled thinking about how he was being more dramatic than his four year old.

"But what if he feels lonely? What if- what if it's hard for him to talk to the other kids and he feels sad? Besides, you've been doing a great job educating him, you know, he's way smarter than other four year olds, he doesn't need school, baby, we can homeschool him together, yeah we could do that and- " you listened to his rambling with a small smile on your face, before he continued on, you grabbed his face with both of your hands and pecked his lips firmly.

"First of all, breathe," you told him when you pulled away, you watched him do as you said and let out a small 'done' right after "Second of all, this is your son we're talking about, honey, he's going to befriend every single kid as soon as he walks into the classroom, he has your extroverted demeanor and bubbly personality, he'll be fine," he grabbed one of your wrists and kissed your palm that was still holding his face, you could tell that he was still anxious about the entire thing, "And as tempting as having him at home all day sounds, he needs to go out there and interact with other kids, and learn from actual teachers and not just me and my parenting books." he continued pressing kisses on your palm and the inside of your wrist before he brought you in for a hug, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and scratched his scalp. He just needed to be baby-ed for a while and he would be fine.

"I know, I know. You're right, I'm just being a dramatic, overprotective dad who wants his boy to stay little forever." you couldn't help but melt at his words, watching Harry become a dad made you fall in love with him all over again, there was something about him teaching your son how to brush his teeth, tie his shoelaces, how to respect others and treat people with kindness, you wouldn't change that for anything.

"You truly are an overprotective dad, I can't even imagine how bad is going to get when we have a little girl." you said with a little smirk, and one made its way to Harry's face at your words, already feeling giddy about what you were implying "Are you suggesting It's time for baby #2?" he pulled you closer and connected your lips together, you let him grab the back of your neck to deepen the kiss but a little voice calling for you made you stop.

"Mummy, daddy, I'm ready for school!" your little boy squealed, his voice laced with excitement and the pitter-patter of his tiny feet dragging him all the way to the kitchen.

"We'll continue this later," he whispered against your lips before pecking them one last time and letting go of your waist to pick his son up from the ground. "There's my baby bubba, because you're still my baby, right? You might go to big boy school but you're still a baby" he obnoxiously pecked your baby's cheek and tickled his belly, making him squeal and laugh "Come on, say bye to mummy before we head out" he passed the little boy to your arms and you couldn't help but get a bit emotional, even though you were giving a lecture to your husband about it just minutes ago.

"Remember to have lots of fun and be kind, okay?" you softly told him, pecking his forehead and smiling at the cheery "Okay!" he let out.

You put him down and watched as he jogged to you husband who was waiting for him by the front door, with his little backpack hanging on his broad shoulder, and with a final wave and a flew kisses blown your way, they were out of the house.

You found yourself getting a bittersweet feeling over your son starting school, you felt emotional and a tad bit sad over you baby not being so baby anymore, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel excited about the tiny human that was growing inside your belly that would be the new baby of the house in a few months. And of course, you couldn't wait to tell your husband.

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vettelinyourarea · 1 year

Note

hi there! i really like your works they are absolutely lovely! i'd like to request one for oscar piastri with enchanted by taylor swift but with his pov if it's fine. so enchanted basically about a guy who taylor was enchanted to meet but in this request i want it to be the opposite so it'll be oscar the one who was enchanted to meet the reader. the reader was a girl he went to school with and a kind of fall in love at first sight that he admired her silently as he never confessed his feelings to her. then it's been couple of years but he still trying to figure out how reader life is going even tho he's so busy with racing, how he missed those old school days knowing the fact the reader still likes to read the same as when he first met her in school library. he always remember her, his very first love and he always hope she's not in love with someone else. thank you!

enchanted - oscar piastri

genre: fluff

word count: 1,185

inspired by enchanted by taylor swift

warning: english is not my first language

thank you so much anon for the lovely request! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoy writing it 🫶

feel free to give me any feedback and sending in your requests!

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

There I was again tonight

Forcing laughter, faking smiles, same old tired, lonely place

Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy

Vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you

Oscar never liked going to the school library, he always felt like it was the dullest place at school and would try to avoid it at all costs. That was until his friends forced him to join them and study there. “Come on Oscar, it’s not that bad,” one of his friends would say, trying to convince him.

So, there he was, sitting on a sofa available in the library with his laptop on his lap, trying to hold himself from falling asleep. Well, that was until he saw you, walking into the library and flashing the sweetest smile Oscar had seen to the nice librarian.

“Who is she?” he asked his friends.

“Oh, her? I have a class with her, she’s always here as long as it’s still open,” one of his friends would answer.

And that’s how Oscar found himself going to the library every single school day.

Your eyes whispered, “Have we met?”

‘Cross the room your silhouette

Starts to make its way to me

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks

Like passing notes in secrecy

It wasn’t until 3 months later that you two started talking with each other. Oscar still remembers that moment, it was a week before finals and the library was full of students trying to cram for the exams. He was sitting in his usual spot when you approached him that day, “Do you mind if I sit here? There is no empty spot left,” you said. All he could do was nod at you, not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, he was panicking. Is he supposed to start a conversation with you? Is he supposed to pretend like he didn’t know you?

“I saw you a lot in here,” you said, surprising him. Honestly, he was mostly surprised because you had initiated the first conversation, but he was also surprised that you noticed him. “Yeah, I’m here a lot these couple of months,” he said to you.

Let’s just say that it was the beginning of your beautiful friendship.

This night is sparkling, don’t let it go

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

From the day you started talking, you and Oscar quickly become close friends. Having lunch together, hanging out with each other at the library, going to each other's houses, you named it. But still, Oscar never made any move to you that crossed the friendship line. Like many cliche romantic movies he watched with you, he was scared to make a move, he was scared to ruin the friendship he has with you.

Call him selfish for feeling this way, but he was okay with being just friends with you, as long as you don’t belong to anyone that is not him.

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

I wonder ‘til I’m wide awake

And now I’m pacing back and forth

Wishing you were at my door

I’d open up and you would say, “Hey”

It’s been two years since he dropped out of school and it’s also been two years since he last saw you. Having to move away from his home to pursue his dream of becoming a racing driver. It was 2 AM in Italy and Oscar just couldn’t fall asleep, he had tried everything. Counting sheep and drinking warm milk, still, nothing works. It was all because of a stupid question Arthur had asked earlier, “Who is your first love?” Arthur asked. And Oscar knew it was just an innocent truth-or-dare question, but still, that one single question reminded him of you, and he couldn’t help himself but wonder how you are right now. How are you feeling? Do you still wear the same stupid glasses he bought for you? What book are you currently reading?

It’s been a year since he last have a real conversation with you. With his crazy schedule and the time difference, the only thing you two had said to each other this past year are birthday wishes toward each other. Oscar only knew that you got into your dream university because of your posts on your social media page.

And Oscar had lost count of how many times he wished he has the gut to call you.

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go

I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew

“It’s been two years Oscar, just move on already,” his friends would say to him. And oh how much he wished that it could be that easy to move on and forget about you. Even after many blind dates he went, he couldn’t help himself but compare those people with you.

He couldn’t help but wonder how it would be to go on a real date with you.

This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

Oscar has never been a religious person, so he never thought he would pray for anything. But here he is, praying every night to whoever would listen to him. Praying that he will see you again and that his last goodbye to you is not the end of his story with you. He would pray that his last goodbye to you is just the beginning of a beautiful, never-ending love story.

He would pray that you are still waiting for him to come home, to come back to you.

Please don’t be in love with someone else

Please don’t have somebody waiting on you

It wasn’t until 3 years later that Oscar got the chance to come home for a while. Maybe it’s a silly little wish, but he really wants to see you again when he’s back. He still prays every night for you, that no one else except him is waiting for you, that you are not in love with anyone.

It was a rainy Sunday morning when Oscar visited a bookstore owned by his cousin. The place was not busy, only one or two people came by each time. It wasn’t until an hour after Oscar came when someone came into the store, Oscar not bothering to even look at the visitor as he was busy replying to business emails he had spent so long ignoring. It wasn’t until he heard a voice so familiar to him, greeting his cousin. A voice that belongs to someone who never left his mind even after all those years being apart. And he had convinced himself that he was dreaming, that he just missed you too much.

“Oscar, is that you?” your voice had called out.

Not until you are standing in front of him does he realize that it wasn’t just a dream.

#f1 #oscar piastri #formula 1 #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri drabble #oscar piastri imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #f1 fluff #formula 1 imagines #f1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #vettelinyourarea

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 2 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 3

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a terrible loss, the arrival of a new airman at Thorpe Abbotts promises to change the trajectory of Frankie's life forever

Warnings: Death, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles

A/N: HE'S HEREEEE 🗣🗣🗣

It was dark in the mechanics' hut, the lights kept off during the day to preserve power, but the overcast nature of the afternoon did nothing to light the space from the outside. Hours had passed since the pilots had left, and although Frankie was never made privy to the specifics of their missions, she could tell by the amount of fuel that had been requested that they were going far, much further than they ever had before. There was not a man among them who hadn't seemed to have a dark cloud over his head as they had prepared to depart that morning.

She and Lemmons sat on the floor together, backs propped up against the wall, both too troubled by worry to work. Frankie had an old fashion magazine in her lap, and they passed the time by flicking through each section and poking fun at a myriad of ugly sweaters and ridiculous hats.

"Those are nice," Ken stated, pointing at a pair of green brogued shoes.

"Seriously? I think they're garish."

He shrugged. "My Fonda has some like it. They look nice on her."

She let out a low whistle, teasingly nudging his side as his face turned bright red, a satisfied smile curling his lips. For a boy as young as he was, he sure loved Fonda. Frankie had noticed the heart-shaped locket that hung from his neck the very first day they'd worked together, but it had taken weeks for him to let her have a look inside. It must have been nice to be loved the way she was.

The magazine was losing its charm. It had been over an hour, and they were running out of pages. With a huff, she tossed it across the room, landing in a heap of crumpled pages underneath the table. Ken looked over at her, raising a brow.

She shrugged. "Bored. Want a cigarette?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frankie dug around in her pocket and produced two loose, slightly bent cigarettes, passing one to Lemmons. She lit hers swiftly, taking in an inhale of smoke. He rolled his between his fingers, never bothering to light it. Sometimes she forgot he didn't smoke.

"I'm gonna take you for a drink tonight. We deserve it."

"I'm nineteen."

Frankie stared at him for a long moment. "...So?"

"So, I can't drink."

"Jesus Christ. Welcome to England mate, you might be the only nineteen-year-old currently in the country who doesn't already have a drinking problem."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words could emerge they were interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. Far from the usual pounding thuds the men usually used, this knock was delicate, polite, but its urgency set Frankie's heart to beating twice as fast.

Scrambling to her feet, she rushed for the door, tossing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table as she passed. Hauling it open, a wave of nausea coursed through her as she saw George standing outside, hair damp from the drizzle, tie pulled loose away from her neck, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Wh-" Frankie trailed off as she slammed into her, gripping her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. As she wrapped her arms around George's back, she could feel her shaking beneath her palms.

George let out one sob after another, face buried in Frankie's shoulder as her tears soaked the fabric of her coveralls. Looking back over at Lemmons, their gazes met in wide-eyed expressions of anxiety, and if George hadn't been crying so loudly Frankie was sure the thumping of her heart would've been audible.

"George- George," She spoke firmly, hands pressed to George's cheeks as she forced her to meet her eye. To be so harsh to a woman who needed nothing but softness ripped a hole through her, the guilt churning her stomach, but she needed to know. "Tell me what happened."

She nodded hurriedly, wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. "They made it to Africa - we started getting messages through about an hour ago, but, uh..." George's lip trembled, and she sucked in a long, haggard breath. "Curt's dead, Frankie."

Lemmons let out some sort of strangled gasp as Frankie felt all of the blood drain from her face. For a moment she didn't know how to process the words, she just knew she needed to hold George - to hold her tight, tighter than anyone ever had. There was not an inch between them as she stroked a gentle hand through her golden hair, trying with all her might to keep breathing as she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

Over George's shoulder, she spied Ken making for the door, a frown casting a shadow over his boyish face. He met her eyes, and she offered him a nod, freeing him from the scene so he could inevitably tell the others.

The two women held each other for a long moment, Frankie's chin burrowed against George's collar. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a hoarse whisper, her throat suddenly dry as a bone.

"...And Bucky?"

Sniffing loudly, George pulled back, shaking her head. "No, no, he's okay. He made it to Algeria." Frankie hadn't released she was holding her breath until she let it escape her, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she nodded.

"Yeah? Yeah. Alright," She could worry about the others later - for now, knowing Egan was alive was enough to settle her drumming heart. "You need to go home, ok? You need to rest."

"My shift's not over, I still have to-"

"I am gonna walk up there myself and tell them you're not coming back today. Not tomorrow, neither. And if they've got a problem with that they can take it up with me - believe me, I don't give a shit if I take an insubordination charge over this."

A tearful smile broke out across George's face, holding onto Frankie's hand as it cupped her cheek. "Tangling with you? I don't fancy their chances."

Frankie chuckled, pulling her into one last hug and pressing her lips firmly to her temple. "Go, go. I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Yeah," She whispered against her neck, reaching out to squeeze her hand as she broke the hug, stepping backwards towards the door and disappearing.

As soon as she was alone, Frankie sucked in a long, laboured breath, collapsing into one of the rickety chairs that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. Doubling forward, she lay her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as she focused on taking one breath after the next.

Since the war had begun, she had been cycling through phases of fear and calm, letting herself slip into the all too comfortable belief that it couldn't touch her here - couldn't take from her as long as she was home, as long as she was safe.

But God, how the world kept proving her wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Almost a month had passed. Every mission took a toll, but the trip that had killed Curtis Biddick seemed to hang heavier than any other ever had.

Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of George.

Some nights Frankie would stay up late, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a chapter of her book, lit by the dim bulb of her bedside lamp. And then in the darkness she would hear a rustling, a casting aside of the course, army-issue bedsheets, and feel a weight press into the mattress beside her as George slipped under the covers, silently resting her head against Frankie's shoulder. She liked to listen to her heartbeat on the nights she felt most alone - when she felt the farthest from home, the most separated from the boy she almost loved - it brought her comfort to listen to that telltale sign of life radiating from the person closest to her. She had someone, and that was enough to live with.

Frankie had liked Curt, but she hadn't known him well. Sometimes she wished she had, if only so that she wouldn't feel so guilty, comforting her best friend over a loss she no longer felt so keenly. Instead, all she could do was softly whisper the words she was reading to her, and let her mere presence be the comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

It had grown warm overnight, and the humidity combined with the heat of George's body burrowed close next to hers left Frankie slick with sweat by the time she woke up, her hair sticking to her neck in damp strands. Peeling the covers away as she clambered out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, she made a beeline for the showers, hoping to wash away the unpleasant, sticky sensation that coated her skin. She was used to evening showers after a long day's work, and it felt strange to stare down at the hot water rolling off of her body and see it come away clear, clean, not streaked with the dirt and oil she was often coated with by the time she made it home each night.

Wringing her hair out with a towel as she made her way out of the bathroom, Frankie dodged the other women emerging from their beds as she reached her own area, her coveralls and workboots waiting for her on a nearby chair. George had moved back to her own bed, carefully removing each of the curlers she meticulously applied every night, just like all of the other servicewomen who were afforded the luxury of working indoors, a far cry from Frankie's reality. It wasn't that Frankie didn't like to dress up - she loved the chance to do her hair and makeup, to dress up and feel pretty for once - it just wasn't a practicality her profession afforded. Her hair needed to be out of the way, and it made no sense to waste money on makeup that would be ruined by sweat and grime within the hour.

"If Dye makes it back, there'll be a party tonight," George stated, watching her reflection as she looped her tie into a knot. "You gonna go?"

"Uh," Frankie considered this for a moment, sniffing her coveralls from the previous day and grimacing at the smell, switching them out for a clean pair. "Nah, not tonight, I don't think. I've already got some outstanding stuff from the last few days that needs sorting, it's gonna be a busy one."

"Alright, I'll see if Sandra and Helen are going."

"I'm glad you're going," Frankie smiled.

George's gaze turned to her, and she considered this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't sit here forever."

It was a fact that didn't need dwelling on, and Frankie wouldn't patronise her with praise. This was just the way their lives worked now. One by one, the women in their hut finished getting ready and left for their various jobs until Frankie was the only one left, locking up the front door as she exited. The burn that had scorched her palm had long since healed, leaving a mottled pink scar across her hand, but she could clutch the handlebars of her bike without pain now, so she had returned to her morning ritual of cycling as fast as she physically could to the airstrip, revelling in the feeling of the warm morning air blowing through her hair.

Dye's plane was swooping in as she arrived, and Frankie couldn't help but smile at the chorus of whoops and cheers that pierced the air, flight and ground crews alike lining the runway to await his valiant return. Twenty-five missions. She could barely fathom it. For as long as she could remember, planes like this had been her life, but she'd never flown in one - Dye had done it twenty-five times. The number boggled her, a reality so close to and yet so distinctly separate from her own.

"Frankie!" Lemmons called over from where he was sitting with a few of the local boys. The village kids had taken a shine to the young mechanic, and she found she rather enjoyed their presence, childish wit relieving the strain of their long working hours. She crossed the grass towards them as he spoke up again. "Gonna replace the panelling on the bombers from last week, you in?"

She shook her head, batting a hand dismissively. "Nah, you go enjoy the celebrations with the others, I'll handle it."

He frowned, a crease appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, I hardly even know Dye, I'm not missing out. Take the night off, you deserve it."

A smile began to spread across his expression. "Well thanks, Frankie."

"No worries. Hey - did we get that delivery of rivets that was meant to come in?" Lemmons shook his head, and she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll take a list to the boss of everything we need."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing dark, a work light on the tarmac illuminating one of the B-17 engines as she worked away at it, a pile of scattered tools littering the ground from where she had tried and failed to toss them back into her toolbox without paying proper attention. She could hear the muffled music far off in the distance, the lights from the party casting a golden reflection against the clouds like a beacon in the night. Tightening one of the bolts, Frankie prayed to herself that George was having fun.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind alerted her to sudden company, but she was too engrossed in her work to turn. Besides, she could already guess who it was.

"Heya, Frankie," Bucky's voice came, and she suppressed a smirk at the accuracy of her prediction.

"Evenin'."

"We missed you at the party," He stated.

"Busy," She replied, letting out a grunt as she pinched the skin of her thumb with her wrench, flapping her hand for a moment to relieve the pain.

"Just came to see ya 'cause I don't think you've met Rosie yet."

Frankie let out a sigh, sliding her wrench into her pocket, speaking as she began to turn. "Bucky, if you boys have got yourselves another fucking dog, I swear-"

There was another man there, standing next to Egan, blue eyes watching her as she stumbled over her words, trailing to an awkward stop. She had a smear of oil across her forehead from where she had absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow with a filthy hand, and Bucky pursed his lips tightly as he tried not to laugh.

"Not a dog," Rosie stated, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"No," She breathed, snapping herself out of her awkwardness. "No, uh, sorry - Frankie, I'm Frankie," Holding out her hand to shake, she noticed its filthiness and grimaced, swiftly retracting it.

"Frankie's one of our mechanics," Egan explained. "She'd be happiest if we fired the rest of the ground crew and let her do the whole thing herself."

"But then who'd clean the dog shit and vomit out for me, eh?" Frankie shrugged, a pink spatter colouring her cheeks. Bucky almost frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristically awkward demeanour.

"Look, I promised Buck I'd only be gone five minutes, so," He looked down at his watch, shrugging.

"No, no, that's fine, you have a good night," Frankie smiled, wiping her dirty palms on the sides of her trousers.

Bucky turned to leave, pausing for a moment. "Rosenthal?"

"Oh, no, I was gonna head off anyway, thanks Major," Rosie nodded, and they lingered in silence for a moment after Egan left, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness down the runway.

"Sorry I thought you were a dog," She chuckled slightly, breaking the quiet as she rubbed her thumb where she'd pinched the skin, a red mark forming.

"Well," Rosie shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Been called worse."

Frankie smiled, a flash of teeth in her grin as she glanced back at the engine for a moment, the great thing looming over her in its frame. "And... sorry Bucky dragged you all the way out here, I'm sure the party is much more interesting, and-"

"Hey, you don't have to apologise," He shook his head. With the work light shining on them, it seemed to cast a halo around her head, brown hair running golden along its edges. Even covered in filth, she must've been one of the prettiest girls he'd seen in... well, he couldn't quite recall. "How long have you been out here?"

"Uh, what time is it - eight?"

Rosie let out a laugh. "Gone midnight."

"Jesus Christ," She flashed him a tired grin. "Shit, I missed dinner."

"Well," He shrugged. "I am a Captain. Sure we can find something."

"You're on," Frankie agreed, the empty feeling in her stomach suddenly amplified once she realised how long it had been since she'd eaten. "Although, I'd better clean up first," She noted, wiping her hands on one of the engine rags.

"By the way, you've got a little-" Rosie gestured to his own forehead.

"Oh, shit," Frankie muttered, reaching up with the rag and just managing to miss the oil stain. He let out a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Here, lemme just-" She offered up the rag, and he dabbed at the stain, which less went away than it did smudge even more. He furrowed his brow as he tried to get rid of it, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer concentration in his expression, their faces far closer than she would ever usually allow with a man she'd only just met. But there was something endearing in him, something safe. "I think... I think I got it."

"Thanks," Frankie chuckled, taking back the rag and stepping back towards the Nissen hut. "I'm just gonna wheel this engine inside and wash the crap off my hands, then we can go."

"I await your return, milady," Rosie nodded, smile turning to a cringe as she turned away from him. What was that? Don't say that!

She smiled to herself as she entered the hut, her pleased expression turning to a grimace as she got a waft of herself, the twelve-hour shift out in the sun making itself known. Oh shit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mess hall was completely deserted, the only light coming from the kitchens as Frankie waited patiently for Rosie to return. He had volunteered to go and scrounge for food, confident that his rank would protect them if they were discovered, and she grinned as he returned, proudly carrying a large tin of peaches and a couple of bars of ration chocolate.

"Oh, perfect. Midnight feast," She beamed, taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the tables as he sat down opposite, producing a tin opener from his pocket.

"Food fit for kings, I'd say," Rosie agreed, wrestling with the peaches for a moment until he was able to break the lid. Producing two forks, Frankie held one out to him, using her own to skewer a slice of the orange fruit.

"I'd just like to preface this by saying that I don't usually smell like this... actually, I do," She admitted, picking at some dirt stuck beneath her nail.

"Hey, I'm not judging - you wouldn't either once you'd smelled the inside of our flight suits," He shrugged, and she let out a huff of laughter, chewing on her peach slices, a droplet of sweet juice running down her lip. "So... how long've you been a mechanic?"

"Dad's been running an auto repair shop at home since before I was born, I grew up on it," Frankie explained, skewering another slice with one hand as she unwrapped her chocolate bar with the other. "He wanted to go over to France, help fix army jeeps, but he lost his foot in the Great War so they won't take him - I was born when he was away, see, he'd been over there for six months or so when a shell went off and he lost it. So the cars were all we had. I switched to planes when I was about fifteen - bit of an impractical hobby, but I've read every single book on it they had in Stratford library," She chuckled.

"Stratford... Shakespeare, right?"

Her brow raised. "Yeah. Right. Y'know I think the only good thing about this war is that the tourist buses have stopped coming around," She joked, and Rosie laughed, nodding along as he ate. Why was she telling him all this? In the last hour, he'd found out more about her than Bucky or Lemmons had in months. But she found she didn't feel embarrassed telling him any of it, the words just flowed naturally.

They sat there in the dim mess hall eating peaches until they started to feel sick, the hands of Rosie's watch ticking steadily past 1am by the time they left, making sure to hide all evidence of their midnight raid. It had begun to rain by the time they stepped out into the night air, and before Frankie could utter a single word of complaint he had shrugged off his uniform jacket and given it to her to hold over her head, her own makeshift shelter whilst his own curls fell flat, the water leaving dark streaks down his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked for what must have been the third time as they reached the end of her row of Nissen huts, Rosie's hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his skin almost visible through the drenched state of his clothes.

"I said stop asking," He assured her, nodding confidently despite the visible trembling in his shoulders.

"I'm just worried I'm gonna ruin your jacket."

"Well, it'd die for a worthy cause."

Frankie grinned, slowing to a stop as she reached the front door of her hut. The lights were all off inside, not a single sign of life as her bunkmates enjoyed their well-earned sleep. When she spoke again, it was in whispers, careful not to wake them even despite the hammering of rain against the metal roof.

"Thank you for dinner, it was... unexpected."

"Very," Rosie nodded in agreement, mirroring her smile. She handed over his jacket, and he folded it, tucking it beneath his arm, already well past its usefulness.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a rough morning."

"Take the day off, have a lie-in, you deserve it."

She raised a brow, and he laughed. "You know I won't."

"I suspected as much," He agreed, nodding firmly. "G'night, Frankie."

"Goodnight."

Frankie slipped carefully inside, cautious not to make a sound as she crept over to her bed, stripping off her wet coveralls as she reached quickly for her nice, warm pyjamas.

When George's whispered voice broke the silence, she swore she almost had a heart attack. "You've been... working?"

"Something like that," Frankie shrugged, taking the fact she was awake as a sign of consent to turn her lamp on, giving her the light she needed to untie her boots. "Have you met the new Captain?"

"Who, Rosenthal? No. Why?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, buttoning up her pyjama shirt before flicking off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness as she climbed beneath the blankets, letting out a satisfied sigh at the warmth.

"He's nice."

George let the silence simmer for a moment, her tone laced with suspicion. "... Right."

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #masters of the air oc #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #john egan #ken lemmons #curtis biddick #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man #robert rosenthal

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stylesispunk · 4 months

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"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 12

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | prev chapter | epilogue

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (8 years), bee is the reader's nickname, fluff, mentions of birth, not proofreading because I'm lazy.

a/n: Well, we have arrived at the last chapter of this story! This has been my favorite baby and thank you so much to all of you who stay and read this one. So much love for you <3 now, perhaps this chapter may look a little rushed but my inspo is not at my best right now, but still think it was the best way to end it. By the way, the epilogue is coming soon. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. <3

It has been a month since the second Joel made the choice of ask you to marry him, and by now it was a secret between him and Sarah who had helped him to pick out the ring and choose the perfect moment to ask the question that would change the course of your relationship forever.

A week from now on he would have a new exhibition at his gallery.

A week from now on he would ask you to marry him.

Since the moment you had appeared into Joel’s life, he tried to deny the nag feeling settled in the bottom of his stomach, same feeling that after days, weeks, and months passed became into butterflies dancing inside his gut every time he looked at you far away.

All those memories seemed have happened a lifetime ago, but in this last month, Joel found himself reflecting on the journey that brought you into his life. Since the first talk to the day, you became an official couple, and he smiled at those memories, he smiled at your face and at how it has been so lucky to find a person to spend his life with.

You had reached your six months of pregnancy; your belly had grown a lot, and Joel gazed at you with a mix of awe and tenderness as your baby kept growing inside you. Recalling the first baby’s kicks, the joy of picking out baby clothes together, and the quiet moments when he spoke to the rowan inside your belly before you fell asleep.

“I don’t think I should go to the opening” you spoke, as you try dresses on “I don’t feel good in any clothes!”

Joel, looked at you attentive and understanding you discomfort as you tried on different dresses.

"You don't have to push yourself if you're not feeling up to it," Joel said, his voice filled with reassurance. “But you look beautiful no matter what you wear. I want you to feel good and not be stressed about this."

He crossed his arms around your middle, placing his hands over your belly as if trying to comfort you and the baby “I want you both there, and I will do anything to keep you both safe.”

"Joel, I appreciate your support," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "I want to be there for you, and I know the opening is important. But it's just hard to find something that feels right, you know?"

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. "I get it. We'll figure this out together. If you're not up for the opening, we can come up with an alternative plan. What matters most is that you and Rowan are comfortable and safe."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love. The anticipation of becoming parents had deepened the connection between you and Joel, and in moments like these, you found strength in each other's presence. The upcoming exhibition held significance, but the well-being of your growing family took precedence.

"But do you want my opinion?" Joel whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Yes.”

“I think the red dress fit you perfectly” this time he kissed your cheek.

You chuckled, appreciating Joel's opinion "The red dress, huh? Maybe you're onto something."

Joel's eyes sparkled with a playful glint. "Trust me on this one. You'll turn heads, and Rowan will appreciate the stylish entrance."

His words brought a genuine smile to your face. Joel's ability to find joy and humor in even the challenging moments had always been one of the things you loved about him. With a nod, you agreed, "Alright, then. The red dress it is.”

Joel grinned, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. "That's my girl. Now, let me take care of everything else. You just go to sleep.”

“Okay, but don’t go to bed too late” you said, pecking his lips.

“Promise.”

In the anticipation-filled hours before the gallery exhibition opening night, the energy at home was a mix of excitement and nerves. Downstairs, Joel and Sarah were getting ready, as she was fixing his tie, and you were getting ready in the bedroom.

You stood before the mirror, carefully choosing an outfit that felt just right for the occasion. The red dress Joel had suggested hung elegantly in front of you, accentuating the curve of your growing belly, and you couldn’t help but smile at his choice.

Downstairs, the sound of footsteps echoed, and Sarah's voice was just a whisper "Dad, are you ready for tonight?"

Joel chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "As ready as I'll ever be, kiddo. Why do you ask?"

There was a pause, and Sarah's tone turned sly. "Just making sure you're prepared for everything."

Joel raised an eyebrow, a playful smile forming on his lips. "Prepared for what, exactly?"

Sarah's reply held a mischievous edge. "Well, you know” then she lowered the voice “So, what's the plan? Can I see the ring?"

Joel hesitated for a moment, the weight of the moment sinking in. "Of course, you can. Just promise not to spill the beans to your bee”

Sarah chuckled, "I promise, Dad. My lips are sealed."

Joel carefully retrieved the ring from its box. As he opened the small velvet case, a delicate rose-shaped ring was revealed. The petals were intricately crafted, each one holding a shimmering gem at its center. It was a piece of art, a symbol of the love and growth between him and you.

Sarah's eyes widened in awe. "Dad, it's beautiful. Where did you find this one?"

Joel grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. "I actually designed it, and then I asked a jeweler to bring it to life. I wanted something special, just like my girl”

Sarah couldn't help but smile. "She's going to love it, Dad. It's perfect."

Joel sighed; relief evident in his expression. "I hope so. I fear bee will say no”

“Say no to what” you asked, descending down the stairs.

Joel rapidly hid the box inside his pocket, as he and Sarah exchanged a quick glance, their eyes widened.

With a subtle smile, Joel replied “Oh nothing, I mean about you going tonight”

“Well, I’m ready” you smiled, walking towards him to peck his cheek.

“You look stunning” he said in awe.

Joel's compliment brought a warm blush to your cheeks. "Thank you. You're not too shabby yourself," you teased, playfully nudging him.

Sarah grinned, observing the interaction between you and Joel. "Alright, lovebirds, we better get going. The exhibition is waiting."

There was an aura of excitement and anxious anticipation as the three of you made your way to the gallery. Joel exchanged a knowing look with Sarah as he hid the ring's secret in his pocket. The night ahead held both would be the one changing the course of your lives, and he was excited for it.

Once in the gallery the gallery was bustling with enthusiasm as people showed up to witness the exhibition's opening. Tommy and Lily, Sarah, friends, art critics, and the artists Joel collaborated with were all there. Music and chatter filled the air as everyone enjoyed the pieces of art on the walls.

Joel stood in the center of the room, a glass of champagne in hand, ready to speak to the audience. He gazed around, beaming with because of pride. He grinned as he noticed you in your red dress among the attendees, showing off the belly as your eyes met in an understanding language only the both of you could understand, the butterflies in his stomach temporarily replaced by a warmth that only your presence could provide.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Joel said, his voice brimming with modesty and emotion. "This exhibition means a lot to me, not just as an artist, but as a person who has found inspiration in every corner of life."

He gave you a slight nod, acknowledging the huge impact that you had on his art and his heart. The audience listened carefully as they felt an intimate element in his words.

"I want to express my gratitude to the incredible artists I've had the privilege of working with," Joel concluded, thanking his colleagues. "Your dedication and talent have enriched my life and made this gallery a home for creative freedom."

The artists bowed gratefully while Joel spoke. Sarah, who was standing next to you, smiled proudly at his dad. Joel's job, as well as his relationships inside your growing family, were created by the path to this particular point, which had been defined by difficulties and triumphs.

Joel returned his eyes to you before raising his glass. "To the beauty that surrounds us, the art that brings us together, and the future that holds infinite possibilities. Thank you for being a part of our journey."

The crowd exploded in cheers, and Joel continued speaking with guests with a genuine grin on his face. The exhibition was both a celebration of his artistic accomplishments and a foreshadowing of the significant thing he was about to do. The excitement remained adding a layer of emotion to an already enduring evening.

After a while, he excused from the guests to find you. Once he walked through the sea of guests congratulating him, he spotted you next to the pastries table eating a mini pie. He beamed at the sight, feeling his hands sweating as the moment he was waiting for got closer.

"I see you're enjoying the pastries," he commented.

You glanced at him with wide eyes, a pang of embarrassment in your stomach as he witnessed you eating like that.

"You have cream here," he continued, cleaning the corner of your lips with his thumb.

You blushed at his gentle gesture, a mix of embarrassment and affection washing over you. Joel's touch was tender, and you couldn't help but smile at the subtle intimacy.

"Thanks for the save," you chuckled, savoring the sweetness of the pastry. "These mini pies are irresistible. Want one?"

Joel shook his head, his eyes fixed on you. "No, I've got something else in mind."

“What? You want to eat me?” you asked, concerned.

Joel chuckled, “No, bee, but if you are finished with your pie, I would like you to go with me somewhere” he said.

You raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on your lips. "Go somewhere? Now? What's going on, Joel?"

He took your hand, gently leading you away from the pastries and the crowd. There was a sense of excitement and nervousness in his eyes. "It's a little surprise," he said, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

As you followed him through the gallery, you couldn't help but wonder about the surprise. The art around you provided a unique backdrop, and you were intrigued by the anticipation in Joel's demeanor.

He knew you hated being the center of attention, so he planned where to asked you the question he had practice for a month.

Joel guided you through the gallery, carefully avoiding the main crowd. He led you to a secluded spot, where a particular piece of art, a captivating sculpture, stood illuminated by a spotlight. The sculpture itself resembled the intertwining branches of a rowan tree, and it held a special significance to both of you since rowan was safely growing inside you.

He stopped beside the sculpture, and you noticed a small table nearby with a single, elegant rose. The soft glow of the spotlight cast a warm ambiance, creating an intimate setting away from the bustling crowd.

"Joel, this is beautiful," you whispered, taking in the surroundings.

He smiled, his eyes reflecting the love he felt. "I wanted it to be just us, away from the crowd. and I thought it would be the perfect place."

“Perfect place for what?” you asked, curious.

You admired the thoughtfulness and effort he had put into this moment. The rowan tree, the lights, and the rose.

Joel reached for the rose and handed it to you, a gesture both sweet and "This is for you, Bee."

Joel took a long breath as you clutched the rose, his gaze stuck on yours. "Now, there's one more thing," he continued, kneeling on one knee. He took the velvet box in his hand and opened it to reveal the gorgeous rose-shaped ring.

“Bee, these past year and months have been an incredible journey, filled with all the joy I could ask for.”

You listened intently, touched by the sincerity in his words.

“I promised myself that I would never going to fall in love again, but then you appeared.” He smiled at you, trying to ease his nervousness. “From the moment you came to my life, everything changed. You brought a warmth and light I never knew I needed.

"From the moment you entered my life, everything changed. You brought a warmth and light that I never knew I needed and you've been my rock, Bee, and now, as we stand here surrounded by art that tells a thousand stories, I want to add another chapter to our story.”

Joel looked at you with such love in his eyes, as you were already crying.

“So, before I ask the most important question of my life, I want to thank you for being by my side, for sharing in the highs and lows, and for making every day brighter." he took another deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "Now, Bee, will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me?"

Joel's eyes shimmered with anticipation as he awaited your response. And you overwhelmed by the depth of his words and the love shining in his eyes, you nodded, tears streaming down your face. "Of course, I want to marry you, Joel”

Joel's face lit up with an indescribable joy as he slipped the ring onto your finger. The intimate atmosphere, surrounded by art that mirrored the beauty of your shared journey, made the moment even more special.

The secluded spot, hidden away from the prying eyes of the crowd, became a haven for your private celebration. The gallery, filled with the echoes of your shared promise, the glow of art, and the lingering applause from the distant crowd, transformed into a sanctuary for your love story.

As you both pulled away, still caught in the enchantment of the moment, Joel held you close. And so, in the glow of the spotlight, surrounded by the intertwining branches of the rowan tree sculpture, you and Joel embraced the beginning of a new chapter in your family.

Joel's eyes sparkled with sheer happiness, and he leaned in to seal the moment with a sweet, lingering kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving only the warmth of Joel's embrace and the soft echo of the gallery's ambiance.

As you both pulled away, still caught in the enchantment of the moment, Joel held you close. His forehead rested against yours, and he whispered, "I love you, Bee."

But the celebration continued beyond your private moment. Joel, still beaming with joy, led you back to the bustling crowd, hand in hand. The whispers of the artwork and the murmur of conversations became the soundtrack of your return.

As you rejoined the celebration, Joel couldn't contain his excitement. With a contagious grin, he interrupted the ongoing conversations, capturing the attention of friends, family, and art enthusiasts alike.

"Everyone, can I have your attention?" Joel called out, his voice carrying a mix of pride and happiness. The crowd hushed, turning their gaze toward the artist who had captivated their attention earlier.

"I have an announcement to make," Joel continued, his eyes fixed on you with unwavering adoration. "Bee and I are getting married!"

An audible gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by cheers and applause. The news spread like wildfire, and soon, well-wishers surrounded you, offering their congratulations. Lily and Tommy exchanged knowing smiles, while Sarah beamed with joy.

Joel, proud and beaming, held your hand tightly, savoring the shared happiness with those who had become a part of your story.

A few days later, the excitement of the engagement still lingered in the air as you and Joel began planning the details of your upcoming wedding. He wanted to marry you after Rowan birth, so he was just in the middle of the chaos of choosing venues, selecting invitations, and deciding on a color for every single detail to be ready at the moment you two had chosen.

But in a day, you were contemplating Joel from the couch, him in front of his laptop, eyebrows frowned. At the exact moment, feeling surge of boldness, you came up with an unexpected idea.

"Joel?" you called out

“Yes, baby?”

"What if we don't wait too long? What if we get married next month?"

Joel looked away from his laptop to you, surprise and curiosity etched on his face. "Next month? Bee, that's quite soon. Are you sure?"

You nodded, a gleam of determination in your eyes. "Think about it. We're already planning a wedding. We don’t need a fancy place, or fancy dress. We just need to celebrate ourselves with the people we love. Besides, with the baby coming, I don't want to wait too long. It feels right."

Joel smiled at you as you speak

“Let’s just make it a small party, with our loved at your gallery, the same place you asked me to marry you. I mean, just think about this at evening under the candlelight’s, just us and our friends, our families…I can wear a sheet” you joked

Joel stood up from his chair and walked towards you, laying on the couch. He chuckled; his eyes filled with love. "You could wear a sheet, and you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the room." He sat down beside you, wrapping his arms around your legs, placing them over his lap.

"Alright, let's do it. A small, intimate celebration at the gallery next month," he agreed, pressing a soft kiss over your belly "I can't wait to call you mom, my wife."

“Oh stop! I don’t want you to his favorite” you scoffed.

Joel chuckled, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your belly. "Well, I can't help it. You're going to be the most amazing mom, and you're already my favorite. But let's not argue about that now; we have a wedding to plan."

And that’s how the month slipped away, an in the days leading up to the wedding, the small gallery buzzed with activity as friends and family helped transform the space into an intimate setting for the celebration. With the support of Lily, with all the arrangements and catering, the preparations flowed smoothly, and soon, the gallery become into a place full of soft lights, floral arrangements around. It looked so different, yet so familiar for you.

You were at you flower shop with Lily and your mother helping you to fix your hair. “I can’t believe this is happening”

Letting out a soft laugh, Lily came to stand right next to you in front of the mirror. With your wedding dress on accentuating your belly, you looked like a princess to the eyes of your best friend, as both of your eyes looked in the mirror.

“You and Joel are made for each other, don’t worry” she said, kissing you on your temple in a supportive way.

“I’m wearing converse” you laughed,

Lily chuckled, sharing in your laughter. "Well, that's just adding a touch of your personality to the princess look. I'm sure Joel will love it."

Your mother joined in, adjusting a strand of your hair with a gentle smile. "Sweetheart, you look absolutely beautiful. Joel is a lucky man."

Blushing at their words, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude for the people surrounding you. The small gallery wedding, with its unique charm, felt like the perfect choice for the celebration of your love and the impending arrival of your little one.

And that was how, under the soft glow of the gallery lights, surrounded by the beauty of art pieces and the people you and Joel loved, you made your way to the gallery, nervous yet feeling with anticipation, and you couldn't wait to see Joel's reaction. Lily, acting as both a bridesmaid and the wedding coordinator, ensured everything ran smoothly.

The moment you entered the gallery, Joel's eyes lit up with admiration and love. The soft lights, the fragrance of flowers, and the presence of friends and family created a magical ambiance just out of a fairy tale.

Joel stood at the makeshift altar, his eyes never leaving you as you approached. As you stood face to face, surrounded by the art that had witnessed your journey, the air was filled with a quiet air. The soft lights accentuated the love and commitment in Joel's eyes, and the background faded away as you took his hand, facing him with tears shimmering in his eyes.

“Dear friends and family,” the priest began when everyone had settled and the room became silent. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate these two souls coming together in love and commitment," the priest continued, his words filling space. "We are not only witnesses to a union of two people but also to the beginning of a new family, a family that is bound by love, nurtured by trust, and destined for a future filled with joy”

You and Joel stood before the makeshift altar, hands clasped together, your gazes locked in a moment that felt timeless. The priest's words carried a weight that resonated with the significance of the occasion.

"As we stand amidst the beauty of art and the company of loved ones," the priest continued, "let us remember that love, like the art surrounding us, is an expression of the human experience. It evolves, grows, and becomes more beautiful with time."

Joel squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. The priest's words seemed to fade into the background as you and Joel shared your own language, encapsulated in the love that had brought you to this point.

"Now," the priest said, bringing your attention back to the ceremony, "let us exchange the vows”

Joel began, his voice steady and filled with emotion. "Bee, my love, from the moment you entered my life, everything changed. You brought a warmth and light that I never knew I needed. You've been my rock, my support, and my greatest joy."

He paused, taking a deep breath, a small smile gracing his lips. "I promised myself that I would never fall in love again, but then you appeared, and I couldn't resist. Now, as we stand here surrounded by our loved ones, I want to thank you for being by my side, for sharing in the highs and lows, and for making every day brighter. Now, as we embark on this journey together, I promise to stand by you, to cherish and support you, and to love you and our baby with all my heart."

He took another deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I promise to be your partner in all things, to celebrate your triumphs and lift you up in your challenges. With this ring, I seal my commitment to you, and I look forward to a lifetime with you by my side”

As Joel finished his vows, a tear glistened in his eye, displaying all his emotions.

And now, as it was your moment to talk, you took a moment, looking into Joel's eyes, feeling the weight of the promises you were about to make. Your heart swelled with love and gratitude for this man who had become your everything.

"Joel," you laughed, shaking "as we stand here today, surrounded by the love of our friends and family, I can't help but reflect on the journey that brought us to this moment. In those days when we were more like enemies than partners” you both laughed at the memory “little did I know that the intricate patterns of your life would soon weave into mine”

You took a deep breathe “Today, I stand before you not just as your partner but as someone who recognizes how important you are to me. Our love story is not a conventional one, and that's what makes it extraordinary”

As you spoke, the gallery seemed to fade away, leaving only you and Joel in this sacred moment. "I promise to support you in your dreams and passions, to be your refuge in difficult times, and to find joy in the simple moments we share."

A gentle smile touched your lips as you continued, "With this ring, I promise to choose you every day, to laugh with you in times of joy, and to hold you in times of sorrow. Together, let's build a life filled with love and adventures”

As you held his hand into yours, both of you were crying and shaking, the priest spoke with solemnity, "Having witnessed the unique and beautiful love that Bee and Joel share, and having heard their heartfelt vows, it is my honor to declare them husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride”

As the priest pronounced you both married, a wave of joy and applause filled the gallery. Joel gently cupped your face, his eyes still shimmering with emotion, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips. The room erupted in cheers, and the soft glow of the gallery lights seemed to intensify, creating a magical atmosphere around the happy couple.

As the night unfolded in a joyous celebration of your newlywed status, the gallery transformed into a dance floor. The soft lights and laughter of friends and family created an atmosphere of pure happiness. You and Joel swayed together, with you resting your head on his chest as he kept leading the dance relishing in the music.

“This is the first time we dance like this” he said, placing his chin over your head as his hands pulled you in by your hips.

“This won’t be the last” you replied, enjoying the embrace as you both continued to dance.

However, as the night progressed, you started to feel an unfamiliar sensation, a tightness in your belly that came and went. At first, you dismissed it as part of the excitement you were feeling, but as the contractions persisted, you realized this was more than just a normal discomfort.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, taking lily with you in the way. It was there when the scared face of Lily made you to look down, seeing a puddle between your feet.

Your eyes widened in realization, and what it was a joyous atmosphere changed. Lily’s face mirrored your own worry as you both understood what this meant.

"Lily, did...Did my water just broke?" you mumbled, trying to stay calm.

Lily, ever reliable and quick-thinking, took charge. "Okay, we need to get you to the hospital. Don't worry, Bee. Everything will be fine."

Joel, sensing that something was amiss, approached the two of you with concern etched on his face. Lily quickly filled him in, "Joel, we need to head to the hospital. Bee's water broke.”

“What?!” he exclaimed “She is not even nine months”

“Well, Joel, I think Rowan might be making an early entrance." In a strained and breathy voice.

The unexpected turn of events brought a mix of shock and concern to Joel's face. He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he processed the information.

"Okay, okay," Joel said, his voice a blend of worry and determination. "Let's get her to the hospital. We've got this.” He paused a little “Lily can you take care of all this, while I drive Bee to the hospital?”

Lily nodded in response to Joel's request, her quick and organized nature kicking in. "Of course, Joel. I'll handle things here. You focus on getting Bee to the hospital."

Joel gently guided you towards the car, the worry in his eyes softened by a reassuring smile. "Hang in there, Bee. We're going to meet Rowan a bit earlier than expected."

As the car pulled away from the gallery, Joel held your hand, the warmth of his touch providing a comforting anchor amidst the unexpected turn of events. The city lights passed in a blur as he navigated through the streets, his focus solely on getting you to the hospital safely.

"I can't believe this is happening," you whispered, in middle the chaos and anticipation feelings consuming you.

Joel stole a glance at you, his eyes reflecting both concern and love. You weren’t solely focus on Joel but you knew he was just excited as you.

"Rowan likes dramatic entrances, just like their parents. Don't worry, Bee. We'll be at the hospital soon."

“OH MY GOD! I’M GONNA DIE!”

“No, love, you’re fine- “

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM FEELING NOW, YOU IDIOT”

This had been the first time Joel had seen the woman in front of her screaming this loud to him, he had been in this situation before when Sarah was going to make her entrance to this world, but this time seeing his Bee hurting, it hurt him even more.

With each contraction, his now wife screamed, squeezing his hand to help her out from the screaming.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice a steady reassurance. “You’re strong. You can absolutely do this, baby.”

"You're doing great, honey," the doctor reassured. "Just one more push."

As the intensity reached its peak, and you felt like you couldn't endure any longer, Joel squeezed your hand, offering his unwavering support.

"Oh my god, I can’t do this any-" Your sentence was left unfinished as the room was suddenly filled with the piercing cry of a baby, a sound that seemed to echo joy and relief came to you.

The medical team worked swiftly, and as they placed the tiny, wriggling Rowan in your arms, a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you. The cries of your newborn resonated with the realization that you and Joel had brought a new life into the world.

Joel's eyes were filled with tears of joy as he looked at Rowan on the doctor arms.

The doctor gently placed Rowan in Joel's arms, and he marveled at the tiny, squirming bundle of life. Rowan's cries filled the room, and the doctor offered a warm smile.

"Would you like to hold your baby?" the doctor asked, guiding Joel to bring Rowan closer to you.

Joel carefully handed Rowan over to you, his eyes filled with love and admiration. As you cradled your newborn in your arms, the world seemed to stand still. Rowan's cries softened at the sound of your heartbeat.

While Joel stared at the tiny baby lying in your arms. Rowan's cries eased, and a tremendous sensation of love and protectiveness came over you as you peered down at the little face.

The nurse smiled warmly, "Congratulations. You have a beautiful baby boy." With utmost care, she offered you some privacy, allowing you and Joel to bask in the first moments of parenthood.

Joel, his eyes shimmering with tears, leaned in to admire Rowan. "He's perfect, Bee. Look at him, our little Rowan."

“He loves resting on your chest, just like me” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

“I have two babies now, and Sarah” you said, caressing Joel’s cheek with your hand.

As you both keep looking at Rowan in your arms, nestled against you, he seemed to sense the love surrounding him.

"He's got your eyes," Joel remarked, his finger gently tracing the outline of Rowan's tiny hand.

You smiled, feeling an overwhelming by love. "And he's got your heart, Joel. We're going to be the best parents for him."

As the realization of your newfound family settled in, Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you, Bee. Thank you for giving us this beautiful little soul."

Joel kept looking at both of you with awe as his new baby rested on your chest. He took your free hand, gently lifting it to make you look at him.

“Bee, do you remember when you made me promise no to fall in love with you?” he asked.

You chuckled “Yes, why?”

“Now I want you to promise me something” he requested.

You shifted your gaze from Rowan in your arms to Joel's eyes.

"Sure, love," you responded.

"Promise you will never stop loving me," he pleaded.

You beamed at him, "I promise."

a/n: once again, sorry if the chapter felt rushed but I'm just a teacher at the end of the year :(

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981 @littleshadow17 @sevillagrenada

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sukunasdirtylaugh · 3 months

Text

3 Pink Roses Mean, "I Love You"

- Nanami Kento (ch9)

synopsis: a confession from Nanami sweeps out. Nobara, being the best assistant ever, helps you pursue a new project, and Nanami comes home late one night to reassure you. A romantic date is planned where feelings blossom. Gojo is also a nosy blob.

series masterlist

For as long as he could remember, Nanami Kento had always kept his emotions under check. Never in his life had he had to control his words, except in the case of Gojo where he really, and his therapist agrees, really exhausts his limits.

The businessman keeps his emotions as generalized as he can, relying on facts rather than emotion, it's what you have to do when you're in the corporate world. The world will believe facts over sentiments any day, it's what you can prove on paper what matters. So it became a habit for him. Ever since his university years, his job managed to solidify those beliefs. Mindlessly stimulate his brain with numbers and graphs until he's just too tired to feel at the end of the day.

Too tired to function.

Two days after your progressive 'movie' night with Nanami, he wakes up earlier than usual, assuring to call out from work for a few hours. He could never not take the day off, wouldn't allow himself.

“So, Nanami, I heard you went on vacation. How did that go?” The woman in front of him smiles, resting her bullet point pen against the spine of her notebook. She doesn't write at this moment, and she knows Nanami is observing if whether or not she'll write this conversation down.

"It went well," he replies, noticing her strands of hair are a darker shade than Gojo's. "I... I went to Boston, with my partner."

“A partner?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise, “You never mentioned you were seeing someone. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“How long have you been together? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two months.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. They met in June and July was already here, so that did count as two months.

If you were stretching the truth.

“What did the two of you do in Boston? My husband and I haven’t been to a red socks game in forever and the lobster at Neptune Oyster is to die for.”

“We visited the Aquarium,” Nanami focuses on the patchwork of her coat, “and we took a boat tour as well.”

“Sounds like the two of you are compatible.”

“What makes you say that, Doctor?”

“You strike me as a relaxed fellow, Nanami. I’m sure your partner is the same? Unless she’s more enthusiastic, of course.” she holds a knowing smile, “because I could see that working out.”

“She’s…" Nanami searches for the words, "smart, well intentioned, independent, compassionate...”

“Sounds like a determined woman if you ask me.” the professional points out with a short chuckle. “It also sounds like she’s someone special because I’ve never heard you talk so highly about anyone. Not like your co-worker,” she notices Nanami roll his eyes, making her bite back a smile.

“Has this partner positively affected your day-to-day life?”

“She makes me look forward to coming back home,” he replies.

“Oh, so the two of you live together?”

Nanami freezes, fuck.

“We... uh… we made the decision to move in before Boston…”

“So is that like a honeymoon thing?” she asks, genuinely curious, “Because I know younger people like to skip the-”

“-It was just for fun,” he quickly clarifies, “the trip.” and the word fun rolls off his tongue with such foreignness that even he can feel a shift in the room.

A moment passes by before the woman smiles at him.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” she says before adjusting a photo of her with a young man, Nanami presumes, no older than 21 wearing a cap and gown.

“That’s my son,” she grins, following Nanami's eyes, unashamed to show off her son, “Michael, 21. Graduated in Economics from NYU. I believe you were a student there as well?”

“Only for Law.”

“Oh, so you’re a Lawyer?”

“No." He shakes his head, "I dropped after my 2nd year.”

“Change of career?”

“More like change of life,” he answers dryly, “My… my father was a Lawyer, and he owned a law firm of his own…”

“Then... what happened?"

"I… I’m not a good person," Nanami's voice feels caught through his windpipes. It is only then when Nanami decides to take the covers off. He thinks that if he were ever to unveil such personal detail of his life, then everyone around him would flee, and see him as the bastard he deserves to be called.

"I’m not a good person because... I ruined someone’s life."

“This is a lovely painting," Nobara sighs in content, "tell me, where in the world did your boyfriend buy this for you?”

As you and your interior designer admired your painting from the living room, you couldn’t help but stiffen as she was not aware of any arrangements you had with Nanami, like the fact the two of you slept in separate bedrooms. Nobara had suggested you hang the painting in your ‘shared’ bedroom', but the idea was immediately thrown out the window along with placing the painting in the hallway.

“It was at an auction in Boston,” the palm of your hand rests on the back of your neck, “I actually didn’t know it was an auction until Nanami and I reached the end of the art gallery.”

“Wow, so you’re telling me he had to bargain for this baby?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“-Did he compete with anyone? What was the starting bid?” You could see the apparent interest in her voice that made your cheeks warm. Nobara’s passion for art and design peeked through the cracks of her voice, dying for an answer.

“It was a starting bid of $12,500 and there was just one bidder apart from him.”

“How much did he pay for it?” she asked.

“$25,000 dollars.”

The realization of your confession didn’t sink until after Nobara’s widened eyes. You lucky girl! No wonder why you were so quiet and against putting this baby in your bedroom! You want your guests to see this work!

Nobara’s hands were freshly moisturized that you could see the glistening lotion through the sun’s rays hitting her skin. The large windows to your shared apartment were expansive, granting you and anyone who stepped foot into your home an impressive view of San Francisco. Large buildings, primarily from tech-related businesses to the view of the Golden Gate Bridge itself. If you tilted your head a little more to the right, you could see the full bridge, but you stood place as you heard Nobara’s words of excitement for you.

“I can’t believe this marks the end of our project, I was really hoping to do more, but-”

“-wait,” you stop her, “maybe there is. I’ve been wanting to do something, but I’d like your word on it. C-can I take you upstairs? To the rooftop, that is?”

That day, you learned that it was possible to impress Nobara Kugisaki with your words, allowing her into your home was already a delight for her, so you would only hope she would accept your idea as you took her to the rooftop of the building.

“It’s a bit dusty up here,” you admit, “who knows when the last time anyone came up here was, but can we fix this? Maybe add a small furniture piece or even fairy lights?”

“We can do that,” Nobara softly kicked the leg of one of the abandoned plastic chairs with the point of her boot. She turned to you.

“By when do you want this complete?”

“Before the 4th of July.”

“That’s possible...” she contemplates, “...but I do want one thing.”

Your eyes widen at her first ever request, “what is it?”

"Take a picture with Nanami outside," she smiles. "I'll check when the best hour for firework sightings is, but I'm pretty sure this rooftop has one of the best views in San Franciso." She suggests, possibly reading your mind, "Plan a picnic with him out here, get all romantic, and enjoy yourself. That's all I want to see- a happy couple in love."

Her words make you blush, filling your heart with hope, and maybe something more. This idea could work. You could do something special for Nanami, make his day worth something, and fulfill your obvious role as his fake girlfriend. But were you taking your role too seriously? You could care less, focusing instead on the details for Saturday. Hopeful for a successful... date?

"A little birdie told me someone's turning a year older todayy," Gojo's words echoed as Nanami worked in his desk, arriving to his desk, Satoru plops down a party hat, a few decorative birthday accessories that were probably way too much, and a birthday candle- the kind that exaggeratingly lights up like a firework.

A few days after Nanami's appointment, he had been extra cordial around you. And as expected, he was not home during the hours you were up, either leaving too early or arriving too late. He was thankful for your understanding, and the lunch break messages would now appear every 2-3 days. Nanami figured you were either giving him the space he needed, or you were too busy to message. Either way, he was grateful no one had made a big deal about this as much.

"So tell me," Gojo leans forward and rests his elbows on top of Nanami's paperwork, "What will Nanami Kento do tonight? Does he have a date? Is he seeing his girlfriend?"

Knowing he was striking a chord, Nanami grunts, giving him a displeased look until he freezes, noting the small loaf of banana bread he would frequent from his favorite bakery. His shoulders visibly relaxed. "How did you know."

"It's easy to figure out your birthday, also Facebook has these crazy reminders- you should try them out. The other day I forgot it was my Grandma's birthday and that website came in clut-"

"-I didn't need to know all of that information," Nanami says, then sighs, "but... thank you."

Astonished by his oddly accepting demeanor, Satoru's eyes widen. "Wait- don't tell me- did something happen with your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfr-"

"-Side chick,"

"She's not a side chick."

"Okay... uh... friends with benefits?"

"I'm offended you think I might even consider that,"

"Okay, sheesh." Satoru huffs a piece of stray hair from his forehead, "Lady friend," he hears no complaint from Nanami and Satoru takes this as a silent victory. "I assume you guys are going out?"

"In this weekend?" Nanami questions, "it's a holiday, traffic is horrible, and I'd rather stay in."

"God," Satoru makes a noise of disgust, "I forgot how boring you can be. Let's hope Mrs. Lady-Friend makes something out of this," he says as he now stands, leaning against the desk. A long moment passes as he now eyes the banana loaf.

"Now give me a smile because I've got to take a photo with my best co-worker buddy,"

It isn't until past 11 when Nanami comes home exhausted that he notices you're still miraculously up. With a bun of messy hair, the laptop charger sitting under on the table gives him the impression that you've been here for some time. “You came.”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“You didn’t.” you exhale, “I figured you’d show up.”

Nanami suddenly feels her stare at him harder, “Whose birthday was it?”

“Huh?" he asks before looking down at his chest, crap. He forgot to take off the decorations Satoru made him wear. Both a party hat and birthday shoulder sling decorate his upper body.

"A-a coworker of mine wanted to celebrate my birthday.” he awkwardly stands.

“It... it’s your birthday?”

“It’s fine,” he regrets saying it was his birthday now, “I-I even forgot it was my own.”

“But I didn’t know,” she mutters to herself in self-disappointment. “I… I should have asked…”

“It’s fine, we never really got to that part in our relationship.”

“But I should have known,” she defends with a slight frown, “It’s… it’s my job to make this relationship feel easy-” He suddenly cuts you off.

“-This is not a job that should feel like it’s a burden. It’s not your fault. Blame me too, I don’t know your birthday either.”

“But you’re always so busy…”

Not for you, he wants to say. Instead, he takes a step forward, placing his hands at the sides of her arms in reassurance. This is what couples do, right?

“Don’t give yourself a headache over this.” He tells you, your breathing deepens when his hands massage her arms. Nanami notices you're uncertain by the way she turns to her feet.

“Look at me,” he softly says.

“None of this was under your control.”

Taking you by surprise, he presses your body against his, arms wrapping themselves around your waist, and your face buries itself on his chest.

“I know," you breathe, " ’m sorry.”

“Why on earth are you apologizing for?”

"I don't know... I feel like I failed you.''

"There's no way you failed me, sweet girl." he says, softly placing a gentle hand on the back of your head as you lean against him, eyes closed and mind too full to notice what was going on right now. "I should've discussed holidays and birthdays with you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to become so taxing for you." glancing down towards you he speaks once more. "How about we do something this weekend, hm? go out?"

"Mhm," you hum, feeling him pull you closer, not saying anything yet as you had plans and surprises in store for him. ''You came late today."

"I did,"

“Will you be working tomorrow?” a gleam of hope surpasses your eyes, “it’ll be the 4th.”

Nanami shrugs, “I fail to see how that’s a holiday worth celebrating given this country’s historical and current standing.” he pauses, face softening, “but I’ll make an exception. Did you have something planned already?”

“Sorta,” you bite the inside your cheek, “but it doesn’t have to 4th of July focused, we can just celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “so what did you have in mind?”

“Can’t tell you,” you smile, “it’s a surprise.”

He chuckles, "Of course. Well... I'll be off tomorrow at 4, will that work for you?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Very well," you can't really see if the corner of his lip tugs upwards in the dim light, but you imagine it does by the sound of his voice. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes," you breathe, breathless almost. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

As he makes his way towards his room, he thinks, for you? this is nothing.

a/n: I am terrible with taglists. I promise I will redo them. let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged/removed.

tag list: @mishroses @musegonemad @sweetteez @kachowness @summerli-u @r0ses4ndlilies @justoutheretrynaread @citrusteaa @fic-for-readers

previous // next

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #nanami #kento #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #nanamin #satoru #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #sugar daddy nanami #sugar daddy kento #sugar daddy nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento

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bxddiebloss · 4 months

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✦ In which you and Nagi spend the rest of your life together.

✦ Fluff.

✦ Part one here.

✦ Part two here.

⟡ masterlist

⟡ A/N: Thank you for requesting a third part! <3

After Blue Lock, Nagi stayed in Manshine City. But of course, he was invited to play for the Japan national team and accepted.

He practiced every day but he always made time for you, Choki and his video games. But you more than the others.

But one specific detail that was left out was that Nagi proposed to you, in a very special way (and didn’t even get help from Reo!).

8 months ago, you both celebrated your anniversary, Nagi taking you to your favorite fancy restaurant.

After that, y’all got ice cream and walked along the pier. It was during a special occasion, so there were a lot of people walking around.

Once y’all got to a peaceful and quiet place, you leaned over the railroads and stared into the starry sky along with the fireworks.

After a few seconds, you noticed that Nagi hasn’t joined next to you on the rails so you turned around and was faced with Nagi on one knee, hands showing the beautiful ring inside the velvety box.

He waits a second before he starts speaking.

“My love, thank you for being here for my whole life. You’ve been with me since childhood and without you, I wouldn’t be where I’m at now. You forced me to join Blue Lock and thanks to that, I’m a professional player that can support us.”

You start tearing up, feeling all kinds of emotions. Happiness? Of course.

“And we’ve stayed together through the worst. Like when Reo tired to take me away from you and when we were long distance from when I was in Blue Lock. Despite that, you stayed with me and I love you for that. Thank you.”

By this time, you’re bawling your eyes out. Tears running down your face from happiness and snot coming out from your nose.

“So, will you marry me? I promise to love you forever and ever.”

As soon as he said that, you rushed into his arms and through your choked sobs, you said yes.

Nagi grabbed your left hand and slipped the pretty ring on your finger, kissing it and then kissing you.

Now, a year later, you’re married and living the best days of your life.

Supporting Nagi while he goes to practice and his games is always a thrill.

But either way, you always make Nagi breakfast, lunch, and supper.

But how does he show his love for you?

Like he always has. Cuddles are his favorite and so are little kisses from time to time.

He also loves it when he wraps a arm around your waist when both of y’all go to sleep at night in the same bedroom.

As the years passed, children came into the view. A son and a daughter.

They both inherited the gaming from their father.

And even after 20 years have passed, your children are living their best life while you and Nagi are at home, confiding in each others warmth and love.

Even Uncle Reo was apart of the picture, spoiling his niece and nephew from time to time as they got older.

But one thing was for sure, you both stayed together forever, loved each other forever, and grew old together.

This was the one thing that you always loved throughout your life.

#blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #bllk nagi #seishiro nagi x reader

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droogiesanddiscourse · 1 year

Text

HCs: Falling in love with Father Paul

Pairing: Father Paul x Reader (Midnight Mass)

A/N: WELL HELLO it has sure been a while hasn’t it. Life has caught up with me exponentially the past two years - graduating college, starting a full time job, personal growth and pitfalls. But, I truly miss writing, and was ready to attempt to get back into it after such a long hiatus. Anyways - hello, I love you all <3 I missed you all.

Warnings: Uhh, blasphemy? I guess?? Mentions of sexual content. Millie is somehow gone who knows where she is. Very subtle spoilers for Midnight Mass (2021). ANYWAYS.

✧ You confess your love for him after Paul takes it upon himself to walk you home from assisting him in decorating St Patricks for an upcoming event. Often jumping at any chance to provide services so you could grow closer to the enigmatic priest, anyone with half a brain could see how you’ve taken to him within the past few months. Just three simple words that sends a ripple through him. “I love you.”

✧ He takes in a deep breath, thinking carefully about his next words. Ever since his arrival, you have been one of his closest friends and confidants. “Please, don't say that,” Paul quietly pleads, exhaling from his nose.

✧ Not because he does not love you, in fact, it’s the exact opposite. He can’t bear to see you be hurt, knowing that he could never reciprocate the love you so truly deserve. He’s hurt those that he has loved before -- and will wrestle with those demons for a lifetime.

✧ Father Paul has taken his vows, and is seen as a pillar of faith, stability, and morals within the community. Given a second chance at fulfilling those vows, even. Still unable to face you, he stares down at his feet.

✧ Shaking his head, his brown eyes meet yours -- glassy with tears threatening to spill over. “You’re so young, it's...natural to have feelings like this. You’ll get over it, it’s okay.” A beat of silence passes between you. “Things like this have happened before. To me, I mean. And it hurts but, you’ll find someone one day. You're strong. You just have to...ride the wave is all.”

✧ And you know that this is how it will be. That you have to be okay with the reality. Scratching the back of his neck, he starts up his usual conversation again. Like everything was normal. “Now for tomorrow I was thinking th-”

✧ But it’s not normal. You cut him off before he can change the subject. “I-I know it’s wrong,” you stutter out, feeling embarrassed and already noticing the urge to backpedal. “I know its against any type of decency, and that we couldn’t be together even if it’s all I dream about. But I..couldn't go another day without confessing my feelings. I’m sorry if this changes things between us. Goodnight, Paul.”

✧ Against all rational, he walks forward cupping your face between his hands before you can slip into the safety of your house. And he kisses you. Before you take back what you’ve said. Before the inkling of regret crosses your mind. Before you pretend that there isn’t an undeniable connection between you.

✧ A kiss. Just once, hoping that maybe this one act would allow the both of you to move on without the prospect of “what if” looming in the back of your minds forever. Free whatever pent up tension was built. Paul has lived with enough regrets, and he didn’t want to add never saying he loved you, too. One dipped toe into the waters of sin, for the sake of a lifetime of purity. But the human condition is fragile; love comes slowly, then all at once. And once it’s there, it’s hard to deny it.

✧ A secret relationship begins to bloom between you. Subtle glances and gestures to each other during mass. Things such as his hand lingering on yours for just a moment longer than polite company, making eye contact with him that flusters him while delivering his sermon.

✧ Intimately pressing his thumb against your lips as he offers you the holy eucharist, coaxing you to open your mouth. Pushing it onto your tongue when you do so, his finger lingers there for an unusual amount of time that seems...less than chaste to anyone viewing. The unholiest of thoughts passing through your mind.

✧ Sneaking around after mass like a teenage couple, unable to keep your hands off of each other. A desperate flurry of lips, tongues, and hands pushing up cloth to gain access to skin. Paul asking you to wear your prettiest Sunday dresses only for him. You have opened up this new world for Father Paul to explore, being considerably less experienced.

✧ Father Paul is old fashioned. Expect flowery, beautiful love letters arriving at your doorstep almost weekly. Hand delivered, of course. They always have the distinct smell of him - a mixture of his cologne and the heady scent of frankincense and myrrh, lingering from his vestments.

✧ Helping him understand how to use technology - while you know him as Father Paul, his true identity gives a more reasonable explanation for why he is so inept at modern technology. Others catch him constantly smiling down at his phone when your name pops up on his screen. You try to show him how to send photo images to each other, but often you get odd attempts at selfies that usually are blurred or too close up. While you prefer spending time together in person, it does give a safer alternative to constantly stay in touch without raising too much suspicion.

✧ Most times you see him one on one to be at night, when most of Crockett Island’s denizens are fast asleep. Just sitting in your kitchen, conversing and laughing over a cup of coffee. Some nights things progress further to the bedroom, but other nights the two of you find happiness just in the company of each other

✧ Late nights in his cabin, your head resting gently against his lap. Paul’s one hand flipping through his well loved and worn bible. The other hand idly running his fingers through your hair. The sound of the murky waves crashing against the shoreline mixed with Paul’s low hums of familiar hymns becoming the soundtrack of the evening.

✧ Mornings after accidentally staying over, too late to return to your house yet too early to make an inconspicuous exit. The window open, the heavy smell of sex and salt water clinging to both of your skin. Sometimes you just stare at him as he’s asleep, watching his chest rise and fall. His usually furrowed brows at rest, and signs of age seem to just melt off his face. Reaching your hand out to run a delicate finger against the curvature of his nose. Of his cupid’s bow. It's sinful how beautiful he is.

✧ He finds relief and only lets his guard down when you both visit the mainland together on some “church business.” This is the only time that you and Paul can reasonably be seen in public together. He can hold your hand, kiss you, and show as much public affection as you deserve without the watchful eyes of others. And stay together in a hotel room too, just like anyone else madly in love.

✧ Maybe you are his secret. One of many. But you are his best kept one by far.

#father paul hill x reader #father paul x reader #hamish linklater x reader #midnight mass 2021 #monsignor pruitt x reader #monsignor john pruitt x reader #hamfam

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jisunghannie · 5 months

Text

Healthy and Happy

PAIRING: Bangchan x fem!reader

WARNING: Mentions of death, gore, car crashes, injuries, blood, hospitals, reader in a coma, reader, reader being called jagiya, swearing, and Chan getting hurt, physical contact (slapping, etc).

SUMMARY: You and Chan were trying to get to the car but you kept waking up in a dream after every death you had experienced. Was it a dream? Apparently it was, a dream of life or death.

WORD COUNT: 2,436

A/N:

.°•○>><<○•°. = POV switch

.°• ✿ •°. = Flashback/Present time

`○°.• ✿ •.°○` = Timeskip

-ssi is used to describe someone older (Maknaes, Changbin, and Hyunjin use this to address you!)

-ah is used to describe someone younger (Lee Know uses this to address you!)

It was another day as you and Chan had another date. It was like date after date after date. It wasn't a bad thing. You loved it. You loved being spoiled by him and being shown off by him. He never wasted a moment with you.

All the STAYs were oblivious to your relationship with Chan. You had always taken his pictures for him in public. He loved them and posted them on his instagram. He was so happy he could barely keep himself from kissing you after every picture you took. You loved it though. After the last date. You were on your phone admiring the pictures and next thing you knew, you heard Chan yell out.

"Y/n! Watch out!" You heard Chan's voice as you got hit with a car. As everything went black.

When you woke up. You woke up in a cold sweat. Scaring Chan awake he listened to your dream.

"But you don't get it Channie! It felt so real!" You told him as you were pulled into a close hug. "If that were to happen I think I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I just watched you die." He told you seriously as you kissed his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere Channie." You said as he hugged you tightly. "I know jagiya... but it feels like you are..." You laughed at your silly boyfriend as he looked at you with his big eyes.

You and Chan had more time as you watched him perform and dedicate songs to you. You smiled every time you thought about all of the songs.

"Y/n-ssi, how long have you and Chan been together?" Jeongin asked as Chan wrapped his arm around your stomach. "Since high school. She's been with me for a long time." He said kissing your cheek as you giggled. "Since his senior year and my sophomore year." You said as Felix's eyes widened. "Holy crap, Chris you are a preda-" Before Felix finished his sentence Minho jabbed his elbow into Felix's side. "Relax, if you think about it y/n-ah is just 3 years younger than Chan."

You smiled realizing that moments like this would never get old. Realizing how long you and Chan had been together had made you feel like you were the luckiest ever. You were with your first love since high school and he has even been your high school sweetheart. You couldn't believe time had passed so quickly. You wanted to have time stand still. So you could be with him forever.

"Jagiya, you okay? You look deep in thought." Chan asked as you looked at him kissing him.

Jeongin and Seungmin turned away, Felix and Hyunjin were eating so they didn't pay much attention, Jisung was play-flirting with Minho again and Changbin just stood there. "Real mature Bangchan." Changbin pouted as Chan smiled at him after the kiss. "You're just mad that you can't find someone as good as y/n." Chan said, sticking out his tongue to tease Changbin. You smiled as Chan put on your shoes for you. "We are gonna head out." He said as he took your hand and helped you up.

After you hugged everyone, you told Chan that you were going to go across the street to get to the car first. He nodded as he took out his keys.

When you walked, you saw on your left a car was speeding in your direction. You were halfway down the street. You ran to try and reach the next half of the road but you didn't.

You ended up getting hit.

Your last memory before you blacked out was Chan hugging you, drenched in your blood, begging you to stay with him. And then.

You woke up again.

You had the nightmare again. Chan once again woke up and you explained your nightmare to him. You told him how you had a dream in your dream that you had also been hit by a car as Chan hugged you. Just like he did in the dream.

"If that happened, I would be there for you and quit my job and, and-" You kissed him to make him shut up. "Channie, I'll be fine." You said as he sighed. "I think we should go to a hospital to get it checked out." He suggested as you sighed, "Will that put you at ease?" You asked as he nodded smiling. "Then let's go." You said as he got up and got ready.

On your way to the hospital, you and Chan were hand in hand the whole time. Once you guys had got there the doctors there had told you guys that nothing was wrong and that you were just stressed. You guys then left.

"I told you it was nothing Channie." You told him as he smiled. "Sorry, I just thought it was concerning." He said embarrassed as you laughed. A crowd passed you guys and you guys had gotten separated. You planned to cross the road, you were careful this time and pressed the button waiting for it to let you cross. Once it shined to let you pass. You walked across. And just then. You saw a car. Speeding. Chan had seen you and ran to you pushing you out of the way.

When you hit the floor, you turned and Chan had gotten his right arm run over. "Channie!" You yelled out as you ran to him. Hugging his body with his gushing arm. It wasn't torn up but it was very bloody. He smiled and kissed your cheek. "It's okay. I'll be fine." He said as you cried and hugged him.

"Just wake up jagiya... I just need you to wake up..." Chan said as you woke up from another nightmare.

What the fuck was happening.

Again, you continued your constant cycle of being hit by a car or Chan getting hit or something. But it's always involving someone getting hit by a car.

The last nightmare was horrible. You knew that it was just a nightmare but why was it repeating?

One of the recent nightmares wasn't as bad, just slightly weird. You had woken up and washed the dishes that were flooding up your sink.

"Hey lover," He said, hugging you from behind as you did the dishes. You smiled. This was like your everyday routine. However, the more you thought about your normal routine. The more sad Chan looked.

"What's wrong Channie?" You asked as you caressed his cheek. As you felt tears drop on your cheeks.

.°•○>><<○•°.

Chan knew that it was a nightmare. He held you close to him as he cried. "Please wake up... don't be stuck in this coma forever..." He cried as you were in a coma, hooked up to different machines and everything. He had been banged up in the car accident that sent you in a coma.

.°• ✿ •°.

You guys were in JYP Entertainment and had to go back home to get rest for the concert the next day. As you guys had walked to the car, a car flew by you guys, hitting both of you. The impact was so hard. Chan was knocked into the car and you, into a lamppost. You're head hit the lamppost causing you to black out and Chan to black out.

The next thing he knew, he woke up in a hospital a week later. You were unresponsive but still alive. Chan ran over to your room with the little strength he had as he looked at you. You were unconscious for a week just like Chan yet unable to respond. He was heartbroken. "Bang Christopher Chan," The doctor said as he looked at the doctor. "Be aware that Ms. l/n may not wake up for a while. It'll take her some time." He said as Chan looked at limp body.

Over time he recovered and had to perform again, but these days he was stressed and tired. He slept less and less the more worried he became.

"Bangchan, you should take it easy." Hyunjin said as shook his head. "If I do who will take care of y/n and... and who would make sure she is okay and-and" He was stuttering, he was extremely stressed out as Minho grabbed his shoulders. "We can deal with y/n-ah. She would be heartbroken to see you like this." He told Chan. Chan understood what he meant but it just didn't feel right. "Just relax." Changbin said as Jisung nodded and smiled. "We can always help you out too Bangchan." Jisung said as Felix smiled and Seungmin hugged Bangchan.

For the first time, he cried. In front of his members. He cried.

You were so important to him and losing you was like losing his whole group. Even more. All of you guys were important to him. He didn't want to accept the fact that you could be in a coma forever.

.°• ✿ •°.

It had been exactly 10 months since you got into your coma. Chan didn't know how to feel, he covered your medical bills but didn't know what else to do so he read to you every day and showed you his new songs.

He hoped that you would wake up. He always wondered why it had to be you. He wondered why it couldn't be him. He knew you didn't deserve it so why did it have to be you? That he didn't understand. He just-

"Bang Christopher Chan?" A voice called out as his eyes darted to the door. It was your sister. She never approved of him. He held your hand tightly. "I'm sorry... I really-"

He was cut off by a slap to the face.

"I knew you were a bad choice the minute my sister introduced me to you!" She yelled as she hugged you, tears welled her eyes. Begging you to recover. "Why didn't you tell me or any of her relatives!?" She asked, screaming. He knew that it was his fault for not reaching out. But he knew it was better than them being stressed out.

Once she realized the eyebags under Chan's eyes, the puffiness of them, the books by him, the scar on his eyebrow, the tears that stained his cheeks, along with the red mark from the slap she covered her mouth in horror.

"Did... you...?" She hesitated as he nodded.

"I didn't see the car and when I did it was too late... I blocked her but," His voice cracked, "The impact was too strong and I let go once the crash happened, but..." His voice breaking as more tears rolled down his cheeks. "I should've just thrown her out of the way if I would've just woken up a week later..." He cried as your sister looked at you. "How long has she been here for...?" She asked as Chan inhaled, "She's been here for 10 months!" He yelled out horror painting on your sister's face as he bit his lower lip, biting back his sobs.

Your sister hugged you tightly. "Come back little sis... I know you're in there... please... I know you can hear me... wake up if not for me... wake up for your boyfriend of damn near 10 years..." She said as Chan chuckled lightly and held your hands, kissing them.

.°•○>><<○•°.

You continued to have these nightmares. You didn't know whether or not it was because you were stressed or if something was seriously wrong. Whatever the reason was. You were suffering and you could barely keep it together. If this is what torture felt like. You'd rather die.

"You can't leave me, not like this!" Chan yelled as you cupped his cheek. Closing your eyes, wondering when the next time you'd wake up.

Except this time, you woke up in a hospital. You were taken aback to see a sleeping Chan. You caressed his head as he woke up and hugged you tightly.

"Oh jagi!" He tripped over his own feet. You giggled weakly as he helped you up and took you to the doctor telling him that you guys we're going home. The doctor nodded which you thought was weird. You were more cautious this time. And this time you were right to be cautious. A car, speeding by as you pulled Chan.

"It's like you knew that car was coming." He said, impressed as you sighed, "I kind of did..." You admitted as Chan laughed, "That would've been bad if I got hit like you did wouldn't it..." He said jokingly as you looked dead serious. He then cleared his throat and took you to the car. "Shall we?" He asked as you giggled. "We shall." You replied.

You drove home happily with Chan until. You guys got into yet another crash. You sighed waiting for the next awakening, you wanted this to stop as you closed your eyes. Hoping it would just stop.

.°•○>><<○•°.

Chan looked at the heart monitor as he noticed less and less beats from your heart. "No, no, no, no, god no!" He yelled as your sister started screaming for a doctor.

Doctors came in as they performed different things on you to keep you from passing on.

Chan comforted your sister as she cried. In the waiting room. She sobbed for about a day. When the doctors came out they sighed and told them that you were fine but the next time that happened you might not be so lucky.

This broke Chan's heart. He didn't want to see you pass. He wanted to be with you, he wanted to see your laughs and smile, but he just knew it wasn't going to happen. At least not yet anyway.

He was still optimistic and wanted to have you close by his side. He knew that much.

.°• ✿ •°.

More time had passed, Chan was still very much sad that you hadn't woken up yet. He couldn't believe that it had almost been a year since you went into a coma. He was so hurt, unknown to what could happen next. He changed the water from your flowers and picked the ugly petals. It was one of your habits. A habit that never quite left him. He smiled as he looked at you, hoping you were sleeping peacefully. He smiled.

As he looked down, his tears hit the soil that had been buried over you as he was on his knees.

"I love you jagiya... happy 10 year anniversary..." He said as tears poured down his cheeks as he sobbed and choked out all the tears and cries he could in that moment.

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