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sonnenreich · 27 days ago

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“So, where's Mrs. Pines?”

Really? It hadn't even been enough for a what a nice enrollment that was, don't you think? Something that didn't necessarily have to do with him, if it wasn't already about honest interest in another topic. But maybe he was just prejudiced and only expected ambiguous intentions where there really weren't any. Maybe she really just wanted to know and wanted to talk to a potential wife instead of him. He just didn't know why that was important. Ultimately, he didn't care whether she had a husband or where he was. It really had no relevance to the course of this conversation. For her, however, it did and the way she looked at him reinforced his trained expectation of being reduced to mere availability by everyone. He looked down at his left hand. Perhaps he was wearing too many rings. Perhaps he should at least make it clear in these matters that he was promised to the vow between Isaiah and him, if all else was dismissed by others intentionally.

"You mean a wife?" he asked again, only to have her run aground. He looked over to the stand and ordered fresh lemonade, which would feel absolutely heavenly in this heat.

"Of course!" Veronica laughed sweetly, as if he'd made a charming joke. She accepted her own drink and continued to eye him unpleasantly unabashedly.

He wrinkled his nose slightly as he averted his gaze to the drinks being poured for him.

“My husband is over there, with our daughter and the rest of the family.” He pointed behind him rather nonchalantly and a little later cast his gaze there too, smiling at the swarm of Pines who were chatting away while Isaiah held Daisy in his arms. The sight would never fail to warm his heart. They had a daughter. It was unreal how their lives had turned out.

The woman followed his gaze before dropping it back to Zeev. "Oh," she murmured, seeming to have to process this turn of events. "That's lovely."

Zeev didn't need to have a higher knowledge of human nature to know she wasn't being entirely honest.

"It truly is, Isaiah and I are very happy, what an exciting day for all of us. You, too, I assume?"

He looked around her, but couldn't see a child. She nodded weakly. "Yes, yes, though after the second child you know what to expect, it was more exciting the first time around."

"I can imagine," he claimed, but doubted that this excitement could ever fade even after the third child. It was the beginning of an eventful life for everyone, especially the sons and daughters. Zeev believed he would always be hanging on the edge of unconsciousness, the excitement too strong to stop.

“So it's your first time?”she continued.

"It is, I wouldn't have thought it to be such paperwork, I'll be honest, but I'm glad it is done."

"Yeah, a surprise they don't want the blood type as well." She laughed briefly. "Well, I bet we'll see each other around!" She said goodbye with her lemonade and turned her back to him. Just as he was about to take his drinks and pay, he heard a soft curse next to him.

"Of course that happens to me," sighed the woman next to him, her dark hair obscuring her face as she searched impatiently in her bag. Zeev eyed her questioningly.

"Forgot your wallet?"

She looked up awkwardly and sighed heavily, tiredness reflected in her eyes. "Yeah, it seems..."

"How many do you need?" He pointed to the counter, run by a few teachers and fourth graders. The sales went to the school and its future expansion.

“Oh god, please, no… that’s… very kind but it is what is.”

“It’s way too hot to go without something refreshing to drink,” he insisted with a smile. She gently placed a hand on his arm, gratitude in her expression.

"Thank you... We're two, me and my girl."

He nodded and ordered two more lemonades, which were relatively cheap, especially considering they were selfmade.

"I'm Juliette and you are?"

"Zeev," he reintroduced himself. "Nice to meet you."

"Boy or girl?"

"What?"

"Oh, sorry, I meant the child. Or are you just tagging along?"

"Ah, no, I got a girl, I'm here for her."

"Aw, lovely. First child?"

He nodded.

"For me, too. I'll sleep for two days straight when this is done. Sammy hasn't slept last night, way too excited. And so haven't I. Been a really nice ceremony, they were so cute up on stage. Who's your kid?"

"The name's Daisy," he smiled and pointed at her little family again, seeing Isaiah looking over and waving sweetly at him.

"The kid on his arm? What a gem, she radiates like the sun itself, what a lovely child. Wait a minute... I think Sammy mentioned her already, unless there are more Daisy's in the classes. Quite impressive how easily kids make friends. I always feel way too overwhelmed."

"And yet you're doing quite good so far." He smiled kindly at her and she waved him off.

“I promise, forgetting my wallet isn't my typical way of approaching other people.” She laughed lightly and shook her head. "Although, now that I think about it... that's practically how I met my husband, too." The memory seemed to fill her with joy, reflected in the gleam in her eyes and the lovely curve of her lips. In a way, the sight warmed Zeev too. How nice to see that there were other people who were happy with their partners. Presumably that was why her presence was not unpleasant for once. They were handed their drinks and he placed two cups in her hands after paying for them.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. This is so embarrassing. I'll make sure to put some treats for Daisy in Sammy's lunchbox! Big promise!”

“That's very sweet, but not necessary.”

“It is!” She grinned and nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "So, it will help to find some nice friends. Gotta support what feels right."

"Can't argue with that," he agreed with her and took the plastic cups, trusting his dexterity not to lose them on the way. "Well then, Juliette, was nice chatting with you. I bet we'll hear of each other soon!"

"Absolutely, and then I'll repay you with some lemonade!"

"I'll keep that in mind. Take care!"

He sighed heavily at his husband's comment and rolled his eyes shallowly. He was grateful that over the years they had developed a trust in each other that was more unbreakable than any century-old tree or structure in history, anything else would break Zeev's heart. Isaiah knew that his attraction was part of his charm, but also his greatest weakness, recognised over the years. But despite this realisation, and the gratitude that Isaiah would never hold this against him, the witcher couldn't help but feel a certain amount of guilt. Even though his husband knew Zeev would never turn his back on him, it didn't change how other people perceived him—and what that meant for Isaiah in return. Zeev was aware of what it did to him when others talked about the witcher as if he were a chastened fop just waiting for his chance at infidelity, while others overlooked the qualities Isaiah brought to the table that went beyond his run-down sneakers—as if that was anything to judge a person by anyway. Just as Zeev was misinterpreted, misunderstood because he was reduced to appearances, Isaiah suffered from always being thought of as less than he de facto was. The disrespect was hard for Zeev to bear when it was directed at him.

Isaiah was the most beautiful, intelligent and strongest person he had ever met, who brought values not only to him, but also to their child, that made the world shine in a light that illuminated all life's aspects from which one could learn, gain experience and recognise what really mattered. Zeev only had truly grasped the beauty in seemingly insignificant things when he had met Isaiah, and the witcher was sure that Daisy would not only become the smartest child, but also one of the few who knew what gratitude meant on all levels. Not only for grand gestures and loud declarations, but also in the fleetingness of a moment that would be forgotten by everyone else. It saddened Zeev that it was precisely these people who based their opinion on narrow-minded assumptions, deepening those with dislike and rejection, that fueled insecurity and a low self-esteem. The power of these people was far too great, but Zeev's doggedness knew no bounds and he would not allow negativity to win over either Isaiah or his child. Nor over himself.

Zeev could barely stop himself from peppering kisses over Daisy's cute little and round face, who giggled sweetly and hunched her shoulders, her pigtails swaying back and forth hypnotically and only managing to restrain her very enthusiastic father in his behavior when she buried her head against the crook of his neck and wrapped her short arms around it. She snuggled up to him and seemed to calm down, as did he. He leaned his head against hers and swayed slightly from left to right as he stroked her back. It was indescribable how he loved this child, who had chosen them over anyone else, and what he was willing to do just to ensure she had a full life of compassion and unconditional love. A human life that had been entrusted to them and within two years had become such a permanent part that Zeev didn't even remember what it had ever been like without her. Their family had grown, and there was no one in the world Zeev would have made this decision with than Isaiah. Of all love declarations Zeev had ever received from him, being trusted to raise a child, was the biggest one yet. He hoped to never disappoint him—or Daisy, too, for that matter.

“How are you feeling, sunshine?” he enquired quietly, his voice full of his natural gentleness, which he continued to show her. She lifted her head and caressed his cheek with a smile. A behaviour that she had no doubt copied. A tenderness that filled him with such great love and gratitude that he couldn't help but smile. No matter how much pain she already had to endure in her younger years, it seemed as if these scars would soon become just that—old wounds, covered over with warmth and affection.

“Very good!” she giggled, the gap in her row of teeth giving her a mischievous smile and adding to her cuteness. She had the entire Pines clan wrapped around her finger in the blink of an eye and it filled the witcher with immense joy at how lucky she would be to be part of this family that would look out for her and show what togetherness and always having someone to turn to meant.

“You did really well on that stage and you were so polite to greet the principal,” he let her know proudly.

“That was scary,” she confessed, fiddling with his open collar.

“It was, but now it is done and over. Are you still scared?”

She shook her head vigorously and grinned proudly at him. “No! I’m excited!”

“I’m too, love. Have you met the other kids already, too?”

“Some,” Daisy agreed. “Chris, Saoirse, Poppy, Lilly-Anne and Jamie, George and Miles, Caroline and Daniela, oh and Samatha! She said my dress is pretty.”

“Oh, that's so sweet of her. Did you say something to her, too?” It was remarkable how quickly Daisy could remember the names of her classmates.

“Yes!” she squeaked proudly and hastily tried to summarise how the conversation between the two girls had gone. So quickly that she stumbled over her own words. “I said—I said—I said—” She took a deep breath without Zeev feeling the need to ask her to. “I said she has really pretty eyes and super cool shoes! She said—she said they glow when it is dark! That is so cool!”

“That truly is cool. Do you like her?” Her pigtails bobbed again as she nodded excitedly, her smile as bright and enchanting as her father's. Despite her fears, her childlike curiosity prevailed and fuelled her expectations for the future. Unwavering and unstoppable. It was admirable and Zeev hoped she would never lose it.

Arwen and Evangeline, who already reflected what it was like to grow up with unconditional love and remarkable parenting, were led into the school building by Daisy a little later, while the adults still lingered outside. Zeev felt the closeness of his husband before he put his arms around him and any tension evaporated with a sigh. He put his hands to his, which were so loving and tight around him that Zeev would never fear falling without being caught. He leaned back against his chest and intertwined their fingers. “Thank you, love,” he whispered and closed his eyes. Isaiah's voice overrode the others', clear and unmistakable in his ears. Zeev would always listen to him, no matter when or where. “I'm much better. The sun's quite euphoric today, isn't she?” Cautiously, he turned in his grasp, placing both of his hands on his chest, rubbing soft circles as he smiled upwards into his beaming face—all the worries and the excitement melting away into pure bliss and happiness. “But I’ll be honest with you, I still felt a little embarrassed, but if it allows me to fall against big, strong arms, I’ll gladly faint like a damsel in distress.” A bubbly chuckle formed within his throat, leaving them both sweetly laughing into the exchanged kiss.

“How are you, baby?” Caringly, he raised a hand and brushed through his sweaty strands of hair. Zeev wouldn’t call himself unaffected by the sun’s might, he was still a human after all with mostly average bodily functions, in comparison to the rest of the family though, it seemed as if he was just living in a 77 °F world while everyone else needed to get through 95. (And yes, Zeev still had a hard time doing the math of the american metric system, he still refused to use inches). He once had a discussion with someone, who had claimed “the Europeans” were having a different system for hours and minutes as well, saying they were counting to hundred instead of sixty. The witcher almost had received an aneurism trying to explain why that is not only false but also impossible—let’s say the person didn’t really understand time difference, so it was like teaching a toddler how planets move and what a solar system was, except there was no reward after the naivety. At some point Zeev had just nodded and said, “actually, we count to two-hundred-twenty, so two hours for you are one hour for me, it gets darker later, too”, which for some reason was easier to believe.

A little later that day, and after the approval of both Evie and Arwen, Daisy had overly excitedly grabbed both her parents’ hand and led them into the soon-to-be classroom, showing off the interior and the facts, that had been revealed by Ms. Huxley, their primary school teacher. Like the whiteboard that was also a screen and the chairs that can be adjusted in height to accommodate every childrens’ growth in the near future. For Zeev, all that he saw and learned about the school, was fascinating and interesting, but he had not much to compare, whereas Isaiah seemed even more enthralled by the modernity and how school’s have developed over the years. They had already been given a tour by the teacher beforehand, when they had checked out the perfect school for their baby to enroll in, but with Daisy, they found new aspects to turn their attention to. For their sunshine, it was insanely important to have pretty large windows that allowed the morning sunshine to pour into the room—and yes, Zeev had choked back a tear when she explained why that was so important—how pretty the classroom was in it’s multicoloured glory, how much she liked the violets and yellows and the greens, how cool the space underneath her desk was for her belongings to be hidden, how glad she was that the playground had swings, but most importantly: Daisy absolutely loved the patterns of the flooring, which most definitely were overlooked by anyone else, but the little girl had an eye for swirls and lines and specks of colour that looked like confetti. She said it reminded her of her first birthday and how much of the little paper circles had lay on the ground of the living room, clinging to her locks and covering her presents. It had filled Zeev with an equal amount of sadness and pride that she considered her fourth birthday as her first.

Daisy had been three when they first met her, drawing by herself at a round table in a bright and welcoming room of the youth welfare center. Her former family—the name and location unbeknownst to her new parents for privacy and legal reasons—hadn’t been much good to her, unsurprisingly. Absent mother and a neglecting father, both overwhelmed by the prospect of caring for a child, let alone unable to care for themselves. Daisy had been forced to grow by herself, taking responsibility for her own at an age where she shouldn’t. The lack of love and attention had turned her quiet, careful and withdrawn. As Ms. Fredericson had explained, she didn’t want to be any burden, suspecting she wouldn’t receive any help anyway. Her parents weren’t violent, but their silence had been just as painful.

On a grim day in September, the weather had already turned cold and wet, an old lady had found her in front of a supermarkt, sitting in a electronic car for usually kids enjoyment, while Daisy just cried for her mother that had left her there—intentionally or not, it didn’t matter much for the youth welfare workers, especially not when it happened a second time. Her biological parents didn’t even fight for custody and left her for the third time in the care of people who promised a better future.

Daisy hadn’t been the first kid they had met, but the day they did, Zeev had known and promised to himself that this child would never be abandoned again.

Months later, Daisy had grown close to them, opening up and blossoming in a way that even surprised the social workers. In awe at the Pines and positively touched by the care they showed the burdened child. Supervised visits were followed by outside activities; visiting playgrounds, walks and picnics at the nearby parks, first visits to their home—Zeev would never forget how, despite her nervousness and shyness, she had brightened during the stay, finding enjoyment at their place, exploring and asking questions, the excitement that brimmed in her round little face at being answered and receiving attention—and lastly, when she had been asked to spent her birthday at their home to which she had answered with a loud and self-confident: Yes!

Ms. Fredericson had accompanied them during their first year, their contact still, who had shown no doubt that Daisy was about to be granted a safe home and loving parents. Close to her fifth birthday, Zeev and Isaiah received the approval to take care of Daisy and raise her as their own child. And the little girl with the faint freckles on the brim of her nose, had agreed, too. A big decision both Pines were proud of and moved by to this day.

Their home in Lafayette Street was spacious, with its big living room and the three bedrooms, a basement, an attic, two bathrooms on the first and second floor and lots of edges and corners that allowed for a personality of the home itself. Still, with Sarah and Richard, Emma and the kids (Matt unfortunately had to work), Jemma, Daisy and the still fresh parents themselves, the house wasn’t only full of people, but filled with love as well. The mother of the entire Pines Clan—including Jemma as well—and Zeev had been preparing a buffet that put every other seasonal banquet to shame. It wasn’t warm enough yet to sit in the garden, with a perfect view towards the little garden house the witcher and Richard had worked on for weeks, but the big table in their living room was a good substitute. Daisy and the siblings were playing on the couch, giggling at each other's jokes that the adults had a hard time to understand but smiled at regardless, while Isaiah and his father were preparing the table. Zeev, who had much like Sarah insisted on helping, had been shushed out of the kitchen, sitting at their porch bench with Jemma, some sparkling water in their hands that the brunette most definitely would switch to something alcoholic in the blink of an eye if given the chance.

“This is really beautiful,” she exclaimed with a smile, leaning against the backrest, her feet crossed at the ankles.

Zeev followed her gaze and nodded in agreement. “Wait till it’s blooming fully again. The variety of the colours will be absolutely stunning to look at, accentuating each other without getting lost in the sea of flowers, each one bringing their own beauty to the full picture. These ones over there are my dearest chrysanthemums, they’ll look like a swarm of little suns. The bees go absolutely feral for those and—” He turned his head to look at her again and noticed her eyes already lingering on him, an amused smile upon her slim lips. In embarrassment Zeev ran his fingers along his jaw.

“You weren’t talking about the garden, were you?”

She snickered. “Not really, but it’s cute. I meant… all actually. The house, the garden, the family inside, you and Isaiah, the life you made for yourself. It’s beautiful to watch.”

Softly, he nodded in agreement, leaning back as well, legs crossed and relaxed. The stress of the past days finally receding and drifting into contentment. Still, the faint sadness didn’t go unnoticed. Zeev knew that her own wish for a settled life, as much as she enjoyed partying and fooling around, hadn’t been fulfilled yet despite her greatest efforts. It pained him to see how important that aspect of her life was to her and that there was nothing he really could do to help her.

“Thank you, Jem,” he said instead, smiling warmly at her, placing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. She fell against him without resistance and leaned her head against his shoulder, huffing as she did. “I’m really grateful for all of this, for anyone who has granted me a place in their heart. You don’t just watch, you’re part of all this, too. When we say you’re Daisy’s aunt, it’s not just a joke. It’s a fact. You’re part of the ‘family inside’.”

Some time ago, she had confessed to him what he had expected far sooner. Which wasn’t a hard thing to imagine considering how they had met and what had happened in between. Something he could never be and never give to her in the way she would probably enjoy the most, but yet she had stayed and she had turned into an integral part of their lives. Zeev was glad that being her friend meant just as much, but the envy lingered and all he could do was remind her that her wishes weren’t some to bury. Not the life she might have imagined herself in at some point, but a life regardless. Zeev was certain, one day she’d meet her Isaiah as he had and suddenly, all would make sense. Nothing would ever be the same again and no challenge would be impossible to tackle. Not with the right person—not with the right family at her side.

And when Zeev returned inside with her, he looked at the set table, chatting all over the place, everyone busy with one another, lighthearted and unrestrained, excited and jubilant, the witcher once more felt his emotions dwelling up in his heart, spilling through his veins. He sat down next to Isaiah, lovingly cupping his face with a hand, his thumb brushing over his cheek and a smile parting his lips before he leaned over and kissed him sweetly, once more reminded, how thankful he was to have crossed paths with him at a place where hope had been all that he had—just to turn it into something far greater. A family and a love that would last forever.

"Thank you, love," he whispered against his lips, not specifying for what exactly he was thanking for. "Are you enjoying yourself?" Despite it being the family that kept their home lively, he was still aware of how overwhelming the constant noise and attention could be for the other. Softly, he placed his hand on his thigh, reminding him that he was just as safe with him as he had been at the ceremony.

"Isaiah, I'm about to pass out any minute."

The sun shone brightly and mercilessly on the earth for the second week in a row, heating up the asphalt of Macomb's streets and making the distance appear in shimmering waves. Zeev generally felt naturally comfortable in the sun. The heat seemed to affect him far less than Isaiah, who sat next to his husband and sighed. His lanky frame was draped in a white t-shirt—sweat luckily not yet darkening patches of it, but he knew if he'd sit in this heat for more than two hours, getting up would be an embarrassment, for him and for his husband—, and his jeans were definitely the wrong choice today, just as his mom had predicted, but that's primarily because she was a mother and mothers, as per law, were always right, apparently. The blonde's hands fidgeted with the condensation dripping from his cup of lemonade. Oak and maple trees lined the sports field, where several rows of chairs had been set up with picnic blankets and folding chairs in the shade until the ceremony had come to an end. Isaiah glanced around, looking further back at his mom and dad, Zara, Carter, Jemma, and the Petosky clan, smiling at them and waving as they fanned themselves. Then he turned his attention back to what was happening in front of him, excited men and women, most of them Isaiah and Zeev's age. His gaze went to his left, he looked to his husband who had been leaning against him, took his hand and gently kissed his knuckles. “Are you alright, my love?” he asked, looking down at him, kissing the top of his head and smiling softly, then stroking the back of his husband's neck. “Isaiah, I'm about to pass out any minute.” The podcast host smiled down at the Sundawner and gently kissed his temple, putting his arm around him and supporting him more. “It's exciting, isn't it?” he asked, smiling back at him and stroking his hair reassuringly with his free hand. “I got you, baby, you're safe with me,” he assured him, pulling him closer and offering him his shoulder and support.

The principal took the stage and greeted the parents, relatives and family friends of the 60 children who were starting school today. Isaiah shifted a little in the chair, keeping an eye out for Daisy, who had to be standing somewhere up ahead, but always keeping his arm around Zeev so that he wouldn't hurt himself if he actually lost consciousness. “I'm here, my love,” he assured him again, looking down at him and gently stroking his side. “And please welcome,” the principal continued at some point,—after children had went up the stage one by one,—and smiled, gesturing to the students standing at the side of the stage, ”Daisy Pines.” Isaiah looked to Zeev, who still appeared to be conscious, and stood up carefully with him, putting his arm around him to continue providing support and placing his index finger and thumb between his lips with his free hand, whistling loudly as Daisy took the stage, rather reserved and shy (but she did nonetheless, despite her fear of getting up there!) while the rest of the family was equally loud in the background, cheering for the newest addition to the family. Her braided pigtails bounced slightly as she walked, the flower crown Zeev had made with her in the morning was a little out of place, but somehow it added to her overall appeal. She looked so pretty, Isaiah thought, and how courageous she was and how polite she was to say 'Hello' to the principal and shake her hand—the only child who did. Because that's what one does. They both watched her, waved as she looked to them and smiled supportingly as she got in line.

Shortly after Isaiah and Zeev sat down again, the American felt his husband's body slump, becoming more sluggish beside him. Isaiah smiled gently at Zeev, kissed the top of his head and leaned him against his shoulder so that he had support, helping him to keep his balance. “I love you,” he mumbled into the other's hair, stroking his back gently as he continued to look forward, glancing down at Zeev every so often to check.

“She looked great up there. Gods, reminds me of you two when you had your first days in school,” Emma smiled and leaned against Matt, looking at Evie and Arwen. “Oh my God, Mom, that was ages ago.” “It doesn't feel like ages ago,” she commented back, smiling brightly. “We'll need to do video calls every day, I wanna hear everything she has to say about her first day at school. And the flower crown Zeev crafted? So cute.”

Isaiah nodded in agreement and glanced over his shoulder towards his husband, who was standing near the bar getting lemonade for everyone, but seemed to have been mobbed by a few mothers. Amused, Isaiah smirked as he saw each of them hanging on his lips, nodding repeatedly in agreement, smiling broadly at his every word. One had brushed over his shoulder and Isaiah didn't quite know if Zeev had approved, but his posture wasn't tense or uptight, so Isaiah assumed everything was fine. The American wasn't worried that Zeev would find the next supposed love of his life with any of them or that he'd cheat, there had been plenty of times when the witch seemed to know how to put people in their place, he had communicated—without leaving room for ambiguity or doubt—that he was married. And that very happily so.

He managed to remain polite, but he was also outspoken about his relationship status and his values. Isaiah loved that about him, too.

A wide smile graced the blonde's face as Daisy came running up to the group in her white dress and threw herself against Isaiah's legs, hugging them tightly and hiding her face. Looking down at her, he smiled tenderly and stroked her hair, bending his knees carefully and asking her if she wanted to be on his arm, to which she nodded in silence. He carefully put his arms around her, stroked her back gently and finally lifted her up, kissing her cheek with all the care and love he felt for his daughter. “You did so great, honey. And how polite you were when you shook hands with the principal. And how brave you were! Gods, dad and I are so proud of you” he smiled at her and stroked her back gently as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and mumbled against his skin that she wasn't brave. “Being brave doesn't mean not being scared, Daisy... It means doing things even when you are scared. And you still walked on that stage and you did so good,” he spoke to her calmly and ran his fingers over the back of her head. His pride was hard to put into words.

“Did you see your classroom, Daze? Is it cool?” asked Evie, who had joined her, and Isaiah looked down at his daughter, who lifted her head slightly and stroked her eyes, then nodded and looked at her second cousin. The girl leaned her head against the blonde's shoulder, her arms still around his neck, and talked about where she was sitting—by the window, right by the sun because it was nice and warm there and because Zeev said she would always watch over her like he and Isaiah did—how everything had looked and that she had already hidden candy from her school bag in the compartment under her table. It made Isaiah smile and even though she wasn't his biological child, there were some similarities one could undeniably draw.

“Did you manage to tear yourself away from the ladies charming you?” Isaiah asked with a smirk, smiling down at Zeev, kissing his lips softly and thanking him for the lemonade. Daisy lifted her head once more, looking at Zeev and accepting a soda with a thanks as well. Her other father's words made her smile, she giggled as Zeev spoke to her while Arwen helped hand out the sodas the witcher had gathered.

Daisy had offered to show Evie and Arwen the classroom, the adults still had to wait because the two ladies from Petosky had to classify the classroom and Daisy's place as cool first. Isaiah had his arm around Zeev, though Zeev was talking to Zara and Carter and Isaiah was talking to Jemma. He had to smile when the Brit told him how proud she was and how much she was looking forward to going to get breakfast alone with her tomorrow morning. "Isaiah, I can't wait. I'm gonna be the best aunt out there, I'll buy her everything and I'll try my best to convince her that I'm great at tagging along for shopping sprees. I mean look at me, I'm fashionable!” she argued to him and Isaiah nodded vehemently in agreement, confirming her statement. Sarah called Jemma and Zara over (and Carter followed his girlfriend as well), which gave him and Zeev a moment of privacy. He carefully pulled Zeev close, stroking his cheek, his hair and examining his eyes, gently kissing his lips and pressing him closer. “How are you feeling, my love?” he asked, still a little concern in his voice, even though he now had several years of experience with Zeev's condition. "You did so well and passed out right after the most important thing happened. I love you, baby.”

#*✹˰ ʾ answers . ʿ but you need your rotten heart; your dazzling pain like diamond rings.#hochmvt #( dying )#( this is so wholesome )#( suddenly married with kids )#( healing i tell you )#( and i'm not even a kid person haha )#( but i'd kill for daisy )

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

Text

I Will Marry You, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K (Exactly, that's so satisfying to me).

Summary: Rafe has an important question to ask Y/N.

Masterlist

Rafe rarely gets nervous. The only time that he really does is when it comes to Y/N. She is his entire world and he would do anything to keep her in his life. And as he stares down at the small diamond ring, he can’t help but feel the layer of liquid that dampens his palms. He wipes it off on his pants as he listens to the MC announce the names of each student. He closes the box and puts it in his pockets when they get to Y/N’s section. “Y/N Y/L/N,” leaves the lips of the MC and travels through the room thanks to the speakers. Rafe is the first to stand out of her group of supporters, “That’s my girl! GO Y/N. I love you, Angel!” He hollers and claps as loud as he can, pumping his hand in the air. He is so proud of how hard she has worked to get her degree with honours. She has kept her grades up and now, she gets to start her master’s degree at her first-choice university. He sees her looking at him with a massive grin. He quickly gets his phone out to take a picture of her getting handed her degree, checking that her family videotaped her walk across the stage. They have prime seats, being right behind the students waiting to go on stage. Rafe’s money definitely shifted hands for him and the Y/L/N family to have such amazing seats. He follows her walk off of the stage, worrying that she won’t be happy with the question he has to ask.

——

His jacket drapes over her shoulders, providing warmth against the cold night. They are walking up the steps of the house they have been renting since the semester ended. The house isn’t something permanent, just a placeholder until they find a place in Cambridge. Ward didn’t love the idea of Rafe moving out to Massachusetts, but he knows how serious Rafe is about Y/N so Ward agreed to let Rafe work remotely for the year that Y/N is doing the Master’s. Rafe would have to fly down every month for a Friday meeting, but they are going to make it work.

Y/N cuddles closer to Rafe with his arm draped across her shoulder. “I can’t believe we are done with our undergraduate degree,” she thinks out loud, resting her head on his shoulder. His head darts to check the text on his phone and then looks at her. His lips meet her temple before he removes his hold from her, taking the keys out of his pocket. He unlocks the door and hesitates to push it open. His life is going to change after tonight and he is scared it might change for the worse. He also isn’t sure if he should’ve tasked his fraternity brothers with such an important thing. Sure, Sarah, Wheezie, and Daisy are leading them, but the now-graduated fratboys were never great at decorating or following orders. He knows if he doesn’t enter the house soon, Y/N will get suspicious. His thumb pushes down on the thumb latch and he pushes the door open. The usual darkness is cut with the light from the path made out of candles. She turns to him to see if he is just as confused as she is. All she finds is his small smile and things start to fall into place for her.

“I will marry you, Rafe,” she utters softly, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him. He pulls away with a laugh, “I haven’t even asked you anything yet.” “I know, but I can see right through you. I’ve noticed how nervous you are and how you are always checking your phone for a text. That coupled with the house being mysteriously decorated makes it kinda obvious,” she grins, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. He groans, “Damn, my angel is so smart. You read me like a book. Will you at least let me take you inside and do what I had planned?” She nods and he drags her deeper into the house.

In the living room, they find eight large characters, decorated with white feathers and fairy lights. Eight characters. Two words and a question mark. MARRY ME? Y/N’s hand finds her mouth. The beauty of the dim room amazes her. Candles and rose petals litter the room and the melody of “Say Yes To Heaven” plays without the lyrics, reminding her of that fateful night during spring break. She turns toward Rafe to find him kneeling on the ground on one knee. In his hand, he holds a small velvet box with a simple but elegant diamond ring inside of it. “When I first saw you at that party three years ago, I thought I was so intoxicated that I was seeing things. Because there was no way that a real-life angel could’ve been right in front of me and ever since that day you have been bringing a little slice of Heaven to me,” he recounts and she can see the tears in his eyes. “You have been my everything ever since that day. My supporter. My defender. My rock. And I want that for the rest of my life, so please say that you will be the angel to my devil for the rest of our lives?” She goes to sit on his thigh and he moves his arms to surround her. Her arms go around his neck and she rests her forehead on his. “Yes.”

He grins at her, kissing her as he puts the ring on her left ring finger. He feels so lucky that he gets to spend the rest of his life with the woman in front of him. People may think that they are too young to be getting married, but Rafe has never been so sure of something in his life.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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thesparkling-diamond27 · 7 months ago

Text

The Second Bridgerton And I: Part 2

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Y/n Clearwater becomes named the “Sparkling Diamond” by Queen Charlotte herself, but she doesn’t know what to do with all this attention. Of course she has her family, but sometimes that doesn’t seem enough. But what happens when she encounters a specific Bridgerton, which changes the course of her season.

Author’s Note: This chapter has scenes from season 3 episode 2 of Bridgerton. Down below is the link to Part 1 and Part 3. I hope you enjoy! Y/nn= reader’s nickname

“Time to wake up Miss Y/n.”

My maid Alexandra. She is in her mid thirties and is a great companion to have. I am quite fond of her, but never in the morning. I am not a morning person, but Alexandra seemed to care less this morning , which was peculiar. She usually lets me sleep in a little longer.

“Miss Y/n! You might have callers coming this morning and you must be ready.”

This sentence alone caused me to sit up abruptly in bed. Callers. I completely forgot. If anyone was interested in me at Lady Danbury’s ball three nights ago, then they would be visiting around midday and this frightened me. I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes and made my way out of bed. Alexandra guided me towards my vanity where she would begin with my hair and light makeup. I picked up a thin gold ring decorated with a green daisy in the center from my vanity. I placed it on one of my fingers and started fiddling with it. My father gifted the ring to me for my birthday two years ago and it has became somewhat of a source of comfort for me whenever I was nervous. I couldn’t wear it for the ball since the green didn’t match with my purple dress. Alexandra noticed me fiddling my ring.

“Would you like to wear your ring Miss Y/n? There might be a dress in your closet that might match.”

She knew about the comfort my ring gave me and I was grateful that she was always so perceptive.

“Yes please. You don’t have to call me Miss Y/n you know. I’ve told you a thousand times Y/n is fine.”

“I know, but” she began to brush my hair, “it’s not proper.”

“Well I’m allowing you to be improper.”

I looked at Alexandra through the looking glass with a smile and she returned it.

“Very well then…Y/n.”

She continued to brush my hair and do my make up in silence which caused me to wander in my thoughts. People were possibly coming to call on me and being nervous was an understatement. I kind of secretly wish that nobody would call upon me. It is frightening. I don’t know what to say or do with suitors and I don’t want to embarrass myself, especially since I’ll be in the same room with my family. Adeline would have plenty of suitors because Adeline is the definition of the perfect lady. She is beautiful and always knows the right words to say. Surely she caught the eye of several eligible bachelors at the ball. Far more suitors in comparison to me. This makes me feel like I’m already failing, which is ridiculous since the season just started. I just can’t help but feel like everything I’ve done so far has been wrong. I’m supposed to be the sparking diamond and it appears that everyone expects me to be perfect and graceful. However I don’t know if I can be perfect and graceful or if I want to be.

“Are you ready to get dressed Y/n?”

I looked in the looking glass and Alexandra was no longer behind me. I turned around and Alexandra was standing beside my bed with a pale green day dress laid out for me to wear.

“Yes I am.”

I barely tasted anything at Breakfast this morning. The food smelled delicious, and I was ready to enjoy a nice full breakfast, but as soon as the food touched my tongue the food began to taste like cement (or bland). My mama could sense something was wrong, but never spoke about it, thank god, until we were all gathered into the drawing room. The clock shows three quarters after ten which means that I have fifteen minutes left to myself.

I am sitting on the main couch in the drawing room when my parents approach me. Without saying a word they both guid me past the piano forte and to the other side of the room in order to have more privacy from my siblings. My mama places both her hands on my arms and says,

“My dear Y/n you have nothing to be afraid of. You are a beautiful young lady and I’m sure any gentleman you meet will instantly fall in love once they get to know you. You are brave, kind, strong and wise. You may not feel like you carry those characteristics, but I am here to assure you that you do. Your father and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

My mama looked at my father and pulled herself back from me as my father took her place. He grabbed my hands into his and said,

“We know you are nervous especially after the event from the previous night …”

Lord Berbrooke. My mother and sister were concerned, but to say my father and brothers were enraged was an understatement. There was practically steam coming out of my brothers ears when we were about to enter our carriages to leave the ball and my father had to stop them from causing a scene. He was furious as well, but he was more calm and collected about his feelings towards the situation because of his role as Viscount. He was angry, but he knew he had a reputation to uphold. I don’t know how they found out, but I didn’t have time to ask because as soon as we arrived home all three of them made sure that I told them my encounter with the man. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about since he never crossed the line physically, but according to my brothers and father he did step over the line when he kept on pursuing me after I explicitly said no.

Everyone knew the reputation of Nigel Berbrooke and my family was quite puzzled as to how he snuck into Lady Danbury’s ball. He was not respected throughout the ton, which was why he was never personally invited to balls and social events anymore, and my father and brothers found it absurd how he was even present in the first place. They promised to keep an extra eye on me, and Adeline, for when we attend more balls and events in the future. They also notified Lady Danbury first thing the next morning.

“…And I don’t want to give you more nerves,” my father continued “but I have talked with an old friend of mine about a possible match for you.”

I was about to protest, but he beat me to it

“Before you say anything. No you don’t have to marry him, but at least be open to getting to know him.”

I looked up at my father and then at my mother. Being open was the least I can do.

“I will father.”

“Thank you my dear Carina.”

My parents each placed a kiss on my head and the three of us went back to our family.

—————————

Benedict

Hesitating Hyacinth?” Said Colin

“I do not hesitate.” She retorted

“And yet here were are waiting.” Chimed in Gregory

“Perhaps it is to your good fortune, as she fleeced you in the last hand.” Colin said

“I play a long game.” Said Gregory

Hyacinth cleared her throat. “I am pleased with my hand.”

“Now you hesitate.” Colin said to Gregory.

Gregory turned to me and said, “I should like to trade.”

“Hmm?” I replied

“Hmm”

Gregory and I exchanged hands and we continued with our game. Then Colin said out of nowhere,

“I am out of this round.”

“You coward!” Said Gregory

“Told you he had a strategy.” I said

“We may need more coins, the way Hyacinth is playing.” Colin said

I scoffed. What a lame excuse. Colin stood and walked away to do God knows what. I turned around and noticed our footman Oliver waiting for Colin. Someone was visiting him? But who? He became different after he came back from his travels. More distant. I would have to ask him about this secret rendezvous later.

“Are you certain you are not cheating?” Gregory asked Hyacinth.

“Do you think me a magician?” Hyacinth relied

“Hmm.” I said “well if you are please teach us some tricks.”

I could be doing anything else besides playing cards with my two youngest siblings, but the banter between the two of them was always interesting. I knew how this was going to go. Hyacinth hates to win, and Gregory hates to loose to her, so who would want to miss such a spectacle.

Even though we were playing with cards my mind was somewhere else entirely. I couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. I hope she is well. After she walked away with her brother Noah, I notified Alexander about what happened with Berbrooke. He said he would take care of it and I hope he did. Of course he would that’s his younger sister after all.

“Benedict.” Said Hyacinth “it’s your turn.”

“What? Oh right.”

I wonder if she received a bunch of callers. Who wouldn’t want to sought after Y/n Clearwater the Queen’s sparkling diamond. If I was looking for a wife I would probably try to call upon her myself. She came from a well off family and was quite beautiful. She was also quite charming when we conversed while dancing. I was only with her for a few short moments, but I could tell that she was a wonderful person.

“I won!”

I looked up and saw Hyacinth was out of her chair and she was doing her own victory dance. I assume she won.

“That’s not fair you cheated!” Gregory shouted.

“No I did not! I won fair and square! Right Benedict?”

Hyacinth and Gregory both looked at me expectingly waiting for my answer. To be frank I wasn’t paying attention to the card game at all, so I don’t know if Hyacinth was cheating or not.

“Are you okay brother?” Gregory asked “You are quiet.”

“Of course I’m alright. I am annoyed that I have lost again due to Hyacinth’s cheating!”

“I did not cheat!”

“Yes you did!”

Their banter quickly escalated, like I predicted, and that put a smile to my face. There was never a dull moment at the Bridgerton household

—————————

Any lady of society that says suitors calling upon you isn’t tiring is lying.

There were a lot of suitors calling upon Adeline and I. There was even a line! There wasn’t even half as many gentlemen here for Adeline last season, but then again I am the so called diamond. The gentleman of the ton are curious about me I suppose. I talked with a variety of men. From talkative to shy, conceited, kind, egotistical, funny and so much more. Adeline had a group of men to pick from as well. I hope she was enjoying herself. I couldn’t tell since I was too preoccupied with my callers.

One man that stood out to me was Lord Findlay. We were supposed to share a dance with each other, but never got the chance to after I was keen to leave the ball early due to a certain man. We fell into an easy conversation and I found myself enjoying his company. However, I didn’t see anything past friendship for us in the future. After about an hour and a half, things seemed to calm down and I had just sent away my last caller. I sat myself down on the main sofa of the drawing room and took a deep breath. Finally the event was over. I couldn’t wait to tell Penelope about what happened the past few days. I really hope she is well. I looked around the ballroom, at the Danbury ball, to say goodbye before leaving, but she was nowhere to be seen. I hope everything was alright. Someone walked into the room and it was one of our footmen William.

“A caller for Miss Y/n.”

I looked up and a young handsome man walked in with an older man behind him who I assumed was his father. My father quickly met with the older man and shook hands with him in a friendly way. He then patted the young man on the back. My father turned around and motioned for me to come join them. I made my way over to them and my father said,

“Y/n this is Viscount Victor Tewkesberry and his eldest son Maxwell Tewkesberry. Victor and Maxwell this is my daughter Y/n.”

I curtsied at both of them respectfully and Viscount Tewkesberry and Maxwell both bowed slightly in response. When Maxwell stood back up straight, I noticed he was holding a small white box with an ornate pink bow on the top. He held the box in his left hand and used his right hand to take my hand and place a kiss on the back of it.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Y/n. Your father has told me much about you and I must say, him calling you beautiful was an understatement.”

My father may have told him about me, but he surely didn’t notify me about him. The first time my father mentioned Maxwell was this morning when he shared that we would be expecting his presence today. Even though I knew nothing of him, I couldn’t help, but blush at his comment. No one has ever said anything to me like that. I decided I should lie about knowing about him beforehand in order to be polite. I didn’t want him or his father to think I wasn’t intrigued because I was.

“It is a pleasure for me as well. My father has told me about you.”

“All good things I hope.”

I nodded. “I hope I could meet your expectations based on what my father has already told you.”

“I can’t see into the future, but I believe that you will.”

This caused me to smile and he smiled back.

“Why don’t you continue your conversation somewhere more private.” My dad suggested.

“Shall we?” I asked.

He simply nodded. I guided him towards the other side of the room and past the couches to the windowsill.

“Is it alright with you if we converse here?” I asked “I am more comfortable sitting by the view.”

“Yes that is fine with me.”

We both took a seat by the windowsill and I looked out into the street. I always tended to find myself looking at the people walking by. Walking on the street and minding their own business. Sometimes I would make up stories in my head based on the people that I would see walking. My eyes drifted to the other houses that were on the same street as mine. Next to my house was the Featherington household and that made connecting with Penelope this season easy, since I only had to walk over a few yards. Across my house was the Wellington family where one of my close friends used to live, but she moved a fews ago a few streets over. Next to the Wellington household across from the Featherington household, and diagonal from my house was the Bridgerton household.

“Do you like to look out at the view?” Maxwell asked.

“Yes. I sit here and usually look out the window or read a good book?”

“Oh you read?!”

“Is it shocking to you that a lady can enjoy reading?”

“No no! Forgive me that is not what I meant. I like to read as well, so it seems we have something in common. What genre do you prefer to read?”

I wanted to answer him truthfully, but I hesitated. Would he like my answer? Even though this is my first encounter with him, I still know who he is. The Tewkesberry family is a very well known family and our families have crossed paths time and time again. I’ve offered a polite smile to the family in passing, but that was different from actually holding a conversation with one of them. I remember the child like image of Maxwell, but we are no longer kids. He is obviously educated, probably attended university, so he probably would want a knowledgeable lady. Which is why I decided on the safe answer.

“I mostly like to read books of fact. They can be quite interesting.”

“What topic do you pertain to the most?”

Oh no. How was I supposed to answer this? I don’t read books of fiction! I rather enjoy a good romance. I tried to muster an answer the best I could.

“I don’t….I don’t really pertain to a particular topic…I….simply like the…random facts…that I learn as I read.”

That answer was preposterous, but I did the best that I could. Tewkesberry looked at me and I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I couldn’t tell if he liked my answer or if he believed me. He changed the topic and I was oh so grateful.

“I have something for you.” He said.

He brought the small white box that he had earlier and held it out for me to take. I completely forgot that he had that. I took the box from his hand and delicately pulled the bow apart. I noticed that he was watching my every move and anticipating my reaction. Once the ribbon was off I slowly opened the box and there were two macarons sitting perfectly and neatly in the box. They were both a baby pink color with a bright fuchsia filling in the middle. They were neatly made and assembled and the smell was a smell that I can identify anywhere. He didn’t obtain these two macarons from some knock off pastry shop in London. He brought these from Paris. They were authentic and I could tell they would taste exquisite. I always had a sweet tooth and I became disappointed at the pastry shops in London after I visited Paris a few years ago.

“Do you like them?” He asked

I looked back up at him.

“Oh no you don’t like it. I’m sorry. I wanted to bring something for you as a gesture and your father mentioned that you were fond of sweets, macarons in particular, so I figured I’d get you some. I asked what your favorite flavor was and he said raspberry. I was recently in Paris dealing with business with my father and I passed by a pastry shop and I’d figure…”

“Hey.”…”it’s alright. I’m actually grateful for the gift. Truly. I was just taking it in.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” I said with a smile. “Would you like to have one?”

“Are you sure? I brought them for you.”

“I know, but there are two of them. We can each have one.” I said with a smile.

I took one of them out and gave it to him to take. I did the same for me and we ate them in a comfortable silence. When I took the first bite my mouth was met with an immediate whirlwind of flavor and like he said it was raspberry. My favorite. I couldn’t help but feel happy. He went through all this trouble to get something that I liked and it made me feel bad for lying to him.

“About what I said earlier…about books of fiction.” I said “I lied.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I’m not surprised that you said that you prefer books of fiction, but your answer didn’t seem to support your statement.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted you to like me. Half of the time I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“What is your favorite genre then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Your favorite book genre.”

“Romance.”

“What about romance do you particularly like?”

I paused to think about my answer and then finally said, “All throughout my life I have been in close proximity to marriages based on love. Mostly with my family. Seeing love in front of me and reading about it in books makes me hope that I can one day have that in the future.”

I looked up at him and he was already looking at me. He seemed to like my answer because his lips turned up into a smile.

“Miss Y/n I am looking for a wife. In my future wife I hope to find a companion. Someone I could talk to. I want to share with her my experiences, feelings and thoughts and I would love for her to do the same. If I am to pursue you, I don’t want you to feel like you have the need to like what I like and always agree with me. You are your own person with your own thoughts and you shouldn’t change for me. Can you do that for me?”

I looked at Tewkesberry and for the first time this season I felt at peace. Which is why it was easy for me to say,

“Yes. Yes I can. “

—————————

I couldn’t wait to see Maxwell at the ball tonight. We had a lovely conversation yesterday and he asked if I could save him a dance tonight.

I am a walking arm and arm with my mama as my family and I enter. The ball was decorated quite nicely.

“Now dearest.” My mama said “I won’t push any suitors your way, due to your interest towards the Viscount’s son. However, if a lovely man is to ask you for a dance you may dance with them if you choose to.”

“Alright mama. My main focus will be on Lord Tewkesberry, but I’ll keep my mind open for other suitors. Shall we greet the Queen?”

“Yes I think that is wise since we didn’t do so at Lady Danbury’s ball.”

“I hope she is not furious with me that I didn’t greet her.”

“Gossip travels fast throughout the ton dearest. I am sure when the news reached the Queen she had a little sympathy for you.”

We both approached the Queen and I curtsied slightly in front of her.

“Flawless my dear. Just how I would expect you to be.” Queen Charlotte said

“Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t grace you with my presence at Lady Danbury’s ball. There was an incident that affected my mood and I wouldn’t want to greet you in such a state.”

“All is well my dear. I hear a certain Viscount has found an interest in you.”

I was surprised how she already knew such information. The Queen seemed to notice my surprised face because she said,

“I know all and see all because I am the Queen my sparkling diamond. I am curious to see how this arrangement will continue.”

I nodded and my mama and I walked away from the Queen.

“I am going to search for Penelope mama. It has been a while since we have seen each other.”

“Alright dear, ” Said mama “but be careful.” She gave me a warning look.

“I will.”

—————————

Benedict

Colin and I were near the lemonade table when we were interrupted by a women’s voice.

“Good evening Mr. Bridgerton. Mr. Bridgerton.”

We turned around and saw two young ladies standing before us.

“Ladies!” I greeted. Another woman joined us. “And more Ladies!”

All three of them began to laugh in unison. They would simply try anything to grab our attention I thought.

Colin and I both turned around and I said quietly.

“They’ve taken to hunting in packs.”

Colin and I continued to sip our lemonade.

“Mr. Bridgerton. I have yet to see you on the dance floor.” One of the ladies said. She was Ms. Stowell I believe.

“What say you brother?” Colin asked, “Time for you to dance?”

He did not just throw me to the wolves. I couldn’t believe Colin. He was supposed to rescue me from a situation like this.

“Yes.” I said with annoyance, specifically towards Colin, but the three ladies didn’t seem to notice. They looked at me anticipating to share a dance. I looked at the girl in the middle. She looked the most sensible.

“Miss Stowell, may I have the next dance?”

She excitedly placed her dance card in my hand for me to sign. What did my brother get me into?

—————————

Penelope and I were conversing near a dessert table. It’s been awhile since we enjoyed each other’s company and I was rather pleased. I caught her up on all the events that has happened since I last seen her.

“I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to you Y/nn.” Penelope said, “Lord Berbrooke is a despicable man. I hope you are well.”

“Yes I am.”

“That’s good. I don’t like seeing you in distress.”

“As do I with you.”

“At least Benedict was able to assist you. That was rather nice of him.”

“Yes nice of him indeed.”

I have thought of Benedict quite a bit since we parted. I wonder if he is here tonight.

“So Lord Tewkesberry…” she said with a teasing tone.

“Don’t look at me like that Pen. We are not courting. We are simply enjoying each other’s company.

“But you two danced with one another tonight.”

“It’s nothing Pen, but enough about me. What has been going on with you?”

Penelope looked around and led us to an area that can allow us more privacy.

“You must promise to not tell another soul what I am about to tell you.”

She sounded serious. This must be important.

“I promise.”

“I have asked Colin to assist me with helping me find a husband.”

I looked at Penelope surprised.

“You do not approve?” She asked, “I know it is unorthodox, but we are both friends.”

“I know, but…”

I looked around to make sure no one was listening to our conversation.

“You must be careful Pen. If this deal you made with Colin is to get out, the ton will not take this lightly. Your reputation-“

“I know I know. We’ve been keeping this discreet.”

“Good make sure it stays that way.”

“It will.”

I missed getting to converse with Penelope.

“Why don’t we spend some time with each other soon.” Penelope said

“I would like that very much.”

“Miss Clearwater. Miss Featherington.”

I turned to see Benedict Bridgerton standing in front of us.

“Miss Y/n, can I have the pleasure of escorting you to the dance floor? If there is room on your dance card.”

“Yes you may.”

Benedict smiles and takes my hand to lead me to dance. I look back at Penelope and she gives me a confused look. She was surprised at Benedict’s actions as well. I shrugged and continued to walk with Benedict.

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked

“I need your help and you owe me.”

“I owe you?! Since when do I owe you?”

“Since I saved you from Lord Berbrooke.”

“Just because you saved me does not mean that you deserve something in return. I thought you were a gentleman.”

He stopped and looked me in the eyes.

“I am a gentleman. I would do what I did for you again and again if I had to without anything in return. I simply need someone to help me avoid someone else and you were the only female face I recognized nearby.”

I got lost in his crystal blue eyes.

“Miss Y/n?”

“Oh… well then I guess I have to help you.” I smiled at him and he returned it. We continued our way to the dance floor. The music began and we fell into a familiar rhythm. I became curious about who he was hiding from, so I asked him.

“Who am I saving you from?”

“Miss Stowell and her mama. I danced with her earlier and they have both been following me since. I don’t have intentions to court her, but it appears that she has not received the same message.”

“Ah I see.”

“How is your season going so far?Any man that has caught your eye?”

“Lord Tewkesberry.”

“Ahh he is a great choice.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not personally. However, we have crossed paths multiple times and he is quite the gentleman. Definitely worthy for a lady like yourself.”

I felt my cheeks warm.

“Thank you for passing along that piece of information.”

“Of course what are friends for?”

I stopped dancing. Good thing Benedict was leading and guided me to continue because if not, we would have been a beat behind everyone else.”

“Friends?” I asked

“Yes. Do you not want to be?” He frowned.

“No no! It’s not Iike that. I didn’t expect you to say such a thing.”

“Well now you know that you have become a dear friend of mine.”

“You as well.”

We both smiled and finished the dance. The music came to a stop and I curtsied while he bowed.

“Would you care for some lemonade?” He asked.

“I would be delighted to.”

Benedict linked his arm with mine and we made our way outside to the refreshment table. As I was sipping my lemonade I noticed Penelope from afar talking with Lord Remington. She seemed to be enjoying herself as did he. I smiled at the thought. I was about to speak to Benedict when I couldn’t help but overhear a nearby conversation.

“It is rather unseemly that Miss Featherington took his help. Pitiable I think.”

I turned and heard another voice speak.

“It is kind of him, but perhaps overly so.”

I looked around and several people had their hands coming their mouth and would acasionally look over at Penelope who was now standing with Colin. People couldn’t know what Penelope told me earlier. Right? This is exactly what I was afraid of. Something like this to happen, but how did everyone else find out?

“Are you alright Miss Y/n?”

I turned to Benedict and he looked concerned. I looked around and saw Penelope begin to walk away. I turned to Benedict.

“I’m sorry, but I must take my leave.”

I curtsied.

“Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Benedict shouted, but I was already making my way to Penelope. As I reached the steps I noticed Colin and Eloise exchanging a few words. Penelope had already left to call a carriage. I had missed her.

“Eloise! Did you tell any one of my helping Penelope?”

“No I did - I did not mean to —“

“Which means you did.”

“I confided in Cressida.”

“Because you thought you could trust her? Why are you friends with Cressida in place of Penelope, I will never understand. What could Penelope possibly have done to warrant such maltreatment?!”

Colin continues to ascend the stairs to run after Penelope. Eloise turned around and showed shock due to her not knowing that I was present. I walked down a few steps and said,

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was after Penelope when I ran into you two.”

“It’s alright.” She replied

She started to walk up the stairs and when she reached talking distance I asked,

“What happened between the two of you? You and Penelope. I know you two were the best of friends last season. What happened?”

Eloise seemed hesitant to answer. I did not expect her to answer, but she did.

“Not everyone is the way they appear to be. Some carry secrets. I discovered that Penelope was one of them.”

Secrets? Penelope keeping secrets? That did not seem true. But then again I don’t know what happened between the twins them so Eloise can be telling the truth. If Penelope does have secrets is she keeping them from me? I would like to think that our friendship was stable enough for her to trust me with these certain things.

“If you did confide in Cressida, I don’t think you had any mal intent when you did so.”

Eloise seemed grateful when I said this.

“Thank you. Brother!”

I turned around and noticed Benedict walking towards us. When did he get here?

“Eloise. Miss Clearwater.” Benedict said.

Eloise looked between the two of us and said

“I shall take my leave. It was nice meeting you….”

“Y/n. Y/n Clearwater.”

“Right.”

She smiled at me and then continued to walk up the stairs.

“I am afraid I am keen to return to my family Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Well allow me to escort you to them. And please, call me Benedict.”

#penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #queen charlotte #eloise bridgerton #friends to lovers

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crappymixtape · 2 years ago

Text

laugh like lovers, kiss like friends

you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old memories, ones you thought you'd forgotten, but you have to decide, will you say ‘i do’ or will your heart realize what you really want has been there all along? | ( 9.1k, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

L A U G H L I K E L O V E R S, K I S S L I K E F R I E N D S 🎶 cold water swimming, quiet houses

“How about these, dear? Eucalyptus pairs lovely with peonies. Besides, wildflowers for a wedding? In all my years as a planner I’ve never seen it. No one does it. It's just tacky, hon.”

Twirling the stem of a daisy between your fingers you bit the inside of your cheek, only half hearing the woman standing next to you among all the buckets and vases of flowers in the greenhouse.

Wildflowers for a wedding? No one does it.

Pulling your eyes off the daisy you forced a smile, “Of course, I’m sorry. Peonies sound great.”

“Wonderful, I’ll add it to the day-of agenda and make sure the florist knows you’ve made up your mind. It’s an excellent choice, one your fiance will be happy with I’m sure.”

Your fiance.

Sam proposed less than a month ago in the kitchen of your little downtown Indianapolis apartment with his grandmother’s ring. A huge, gaudy diamond that made your hands look even smaller than they already were and after you’d called your mom the news had spread like wildfire.

Sam didn’t want to wait, he probably would’ve dragged you down to the courthouse if it hadn’t been for his parents and your mom, but it meant things were moving at the speed of light and you were running to catch up.

When he’d looked up at you, ring box outstretched, you knew what your first thought should’ve been. Tears and overwhelming joy and a resounding Yes! but none of it came. Instead your first thought had been long stalks of grass. The glittering turquoise water of the quarry. Skunky weed and wildflowers and hot, sticky Indiana summers.

Steve.

“Babe, you gotta call the bakery back, the lady doesn’t get it. Idiot,” Sam’s voice cut through into your thoughts and you blinked them away.

“What?”

“The cake? She’s not getting it. I told her we wanted vanilla, like actual vanilla not that imitation shit.”

“Julie’s not an idiot,” your tone grew clipped, short, brow furrowing as you folded your arms across your chest. Julie had lived in Hawkins since before your family moved in across the street from her. The only, and best, bakery in town with the sweetest baker known to man. Julie was a saint.

“Okay, well then you try and explain it to her. I’m done,” Sam huffed, pinching his nose between his fingers and shaking his head. “I’m gonna go get food with my mom. Can’t wait until this is all over,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll see you back at the house," and with that he hastily pressed a kiss to your forehead before stalking out of the greenhouse.

“Not really a man’s arena is it,” the planner said giving you an overly sweet smile, “Better to let us take care of it, hm?”

“I guess,” you couldn’t bear to force another smile, “Thanks for your help, but I need to go get ready for tonight. Call me if anything else comes up.”

“On it and don’t you worry, only a few more days. Just think! The happiest day of your life!”

The happiest day of your life.

It sure as hell didn’t didn’t it feel like it.

The high vaulted ceilings in your parents’ living room looked the same as they had when you lived there. Same ugly, bumpy texture and yellowed color, now with a few too-high cobwebs just out of reach hanging in the corners.

The buzz of conversation filling the air around you was incessant, blending and blurring together and making you feel like you were far away. Like you were a spectator and not the bride-to-be and your chest squeezed with nerves. There were so many people packed into the house and as guests hurled their questions at you, your anxiety only grew.

“Oh, sweetie you look amazing! You’ll be a beautiful bride!” “Tell me again, where are you going for your honeymoon?” “Sam is such a catch, does he have any available friends? Just kidding! But seriously?” “Oh my god, look at that ring! He must really love you.”

One of Sam’s cousins had been hammering you with question after question, barely giving you any room to reply and you felt like you were drowning in it. The walls of the living room suddenly felt like they were closing in on you, making you feel claustrophobic and you needed air. Outside. Anything other than this. “Is-is it warm in here?” you stuttered, pulling at the collar of your dress.

“No? What d’you mean–”

“I’m sorry, excuse me,” you didn’t wait for her to finish and instead moved as quickly as you could through the crowd, trying not to project your panic with a fake smile plastered on your lips until you reached the slider door.

“Honey!” your stomach sank. Your mom. “Your aunt and uncle just got here, you need to say hello!”

Looking over your shoulder she was standing with her hands on her hips, brow furrowed in frustration, watching as your fingers gripped the handle of the patio door.

“I know,” your voice was edged with irritation and you bit your tongue. “Please? I just need some air for a minute. I’ll be right back,” and you could tell she didn’t like your answer, but she didn’t fight you on it as you slipped outside, all the noise and voices and music blunted and sliced in half as you shut the door behind you.

Leaning back against the glass, eyes closed, you pulled in a breath of air and let it out slowly. Trying, telling, yourself you had to keep it together. Just a minute out here and you’d feel right as rain. Ready to dive back in.

The happiest day of your life.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?”

Your eyes flew open, an all-too-familiar voice making your heart leap into your throat.

He was sitting on the edge of one of the pool loungers like it was nothing, a few locks of stray hair falling into his eyes, all warm honey and burnt caramel and the boyish grin he was giving you made you feel dizzy. Like it always did.

“I’ve been inside for like two hours,” you shot back, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to really sound mad at him.

At Steve.

“Well don't sound like you’re having too much fun. Not like you’re getting married in three days or anything,” he teased, scooting over on the lounger, a silent invitation for you to sit next to him and you took it.

“Don’t remind me–” fell out, “–what I mean is–it's just–just planning everything has been...a lot.”

Steve caught your slip up, but didn’t call it out, only humming in reply as he threaded a hand through his hair, watching as you settled down next to him. “I’m about a month late, but congrats,” he offered with a small smile before taking a drink from his beer.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” you replied lamely, cheeks flushing when he looked over at you. You were entirely too sober for this. “Here, gimme that,” reaching over you took the beer from his hand, chugging half of it in one go and pulling a laugh out of Steve.

“Jesus,” Steve laughed, amused at you, a sound you’d missed so very much. “Take it easy,” he chided gently, but it was all warm and sticky sweet like popsicles on a hot day and when you gave it back he shook his head.

Silence lingered between you for a moment, the static sound of the pool filter trickling in the background, and your thoughts drifted back to a moment a few years ago. Up in your room while summer spun by outside. The last time he'd been over here. Steve.

Bobbing along to the music coming from your stereo, you crammed the last of your photos into one of the empty supply boxes Steve had brought over from Family Video.

“I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather, but traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention,” you sang a little off key, giving your shoulders a little shimmy as you turned to grab the pile of books on your bed.

“You keep your distance via the system of touch and gentle persuasion. I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much?” Steve sang back, browed knitted together in dedication to the bit, hips swaying as he wiped down your dresser. Turning with the roll of paper towels in his hand he held it out to you as the chorus neared, both of you singing horribly.

“Oh, you're wasting my time, you're just, just, just wasting time!”

“God, who’s gonna sing shitty with me when you’re not around?” Steve tossed the roll onto your bed, leaning back against the drawers behind him.

“Robin sucks more than I do,” you shot back, and Steve mumbled in agreement.

“Yeah, but she hates Tears for Fears,” there was a slight whine in his voice that made you look up at him over your box and grin.

“Well then save it for me when I’m back on Christmas break.”

Steve gave you a pout and folded his arms over his chest, “That’s like, a fucking eon from now.”

“It’s not that long,” you moved around the other side of your bed to sit in front of him, a small pause swallowing you both into silence.

Clearing your throat you dropped your gaze down your shoes, kicking them in time with the song still playing in the background. You glanced over at Steve’s dirty, beat up Blazers and smiled. “I guess I’ll miss you,” you teased, looking back up at him and he gave you a smile, but it softened the longer he looked at you.

“I know I’ll miss you,” he said, and you knew he meant it, and your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird caught in a cage as the air around you grew thick with words unsaid, but implied. Steve took a step away from the dresser, standing in the V of your legs, hand moving to lift your chin up with his thumb and forefinger.

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, meeting his gaze, and everything felt hazy. “Miss you too, Stevie,” you murmured and he leaned down slowly. Tilting your chin ever so gently he hesitated for just a second before pressing his lips against yours. Your room and half-packed boxes and everything fell away in the warm, glittering feeling of Steve and summer and the last of the light falling through your window washed you both in gold like it wanted to hold you in that moment forever.

“How long are you in town for?” your voice broke the silence between you and Steve took another drink of his beer.

“Just til the day after the wedding, need to get back to things,” he said softly, stealing a look at you out of the corner of his eye, smiling at the way your nose scrunched up when you were thinking, “You look really pretty by the way.”

Your cheeks warmed and you stole a look at him too, “You have to say that.”

“No I don’t. I do on your wedding day, but this is a freebie,” he teased, trying to make it seem lighter than it was, but you both knew the weight it carried.

“Babe, c’mon. You gotta get back inside. It’s rude. People are looking for you,” the sudden sound of Sam’s voice sliced your moment in two and Steve sat up straight, leaning away from you as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alright, I just needed some air,” your voice sounded tired and Steve caught the look in your eyes as you roughed your hands over your face, “I’m coming.”

“Harrington,” Sam sniped, and Steve gave him a big smile, knowing just how much the other man hated finding the two of you sitting together.

“Sammy,” Steve teased and you had to bite back a laugh, hiding it in a cough, but Sam knew.

“I fuckin’ hate that,” Sam gave Steve a look and he just smiled.

“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, but knew you should’ve kept it to yourself when Sam glared daggers at you.

“Inside,” he said, patience short, and you felt your own run out as you glared right back, but moved toward the slider door anyway.

“I’ll see you,” you told Steve and just before you slipped back into the chaos, he gave you a look. The same one you remembered from that hot summer evening in your room as you packed your life into boxes. A look that put fire to the embers lying dormant in your chest and something you thought had been extinguished flickered back to life.

“Sam, hurry up, we’re going to be late!”

“I’m trying. You know how much I hate being outside. These stupid boots are too tight and–” Sam grunted, leaning over to tug at his socks, “–these are itchy as hell.”

“You don’t have to wear them, but your legs are gonna get bit up and scratched on the trail,” you shook your head, yanking your own worn-in boots onto your feet.

“Bit? Are you kidding me?”

“What? It’s summer, there are a ton of bugs out right now.”

Sam sucked in a breath and put his face in his hands, standing on the other side of the bed from you. He’d agreed to it at first, thought maybe it might be a quaint little jaunt through a park, but when he realized it was an actual hike up the bluff just outside Hawkins – in nature – he’d thrown a fit.

It was one of your favorite places, a special piece of home, and you were going to go with or without him.

“Just stay home, Sam. It’s fine,” you huffed, kicking your suitcase shut, tugging your ponytail through the back of your baseball cap.

“You know what? Maybe I will. This whole place is too much. Jason’ll get beers with me,” he growled under his breath, yanking his boots off to get to his socks, “Enjoy your hike.”

“Great, thanks, will do,” you almost left the room without saying goodbye, but something made you hesitate and you paused for a second at the door, eyes squeezed shut. Why was everything so damn hard? This was supposed to be easy.

The happiest day of your life.

Resigned, you turned around and retraced the few steps over to Sam. “I’ll see you when we’re back,” you muttered, bending down and brushing a hasty kiss to his cheek.

“See you,” he didn’t meet your gaze, instead scowling at the ground and it was the push you needed to leave, the weight on your shoulders lifting as you hurried down the stairs and out the door.

The sun was just coming up, painting the sky cotton candy pinks and blurred warm tangerines. You could feel the heat already and as you got out of your car at the bluff the feeling of the sun on your bare legs pulled a heavy sigh from your lungs. Breathing out the stress and pressure of the last few days and you closed your eyes for a minute, leaning against the warmth of your car.

It would be okay. Today was for you. This was for you.

Opening them again you heard another car rumbling up the dirt road behind you and when you turned around you grinned so big your cheeks started to hurt.

“OH MY GOD,” Robin squealed. She practically leapt out of the backseat of Steve’s BMW and ran over to you, gathering you up in her arms and squeezing tight. “What the hell! You look amazing! Shit. Is this like, pre-wedding glow or did you stop eating meat or something? I hear it’s like, totally bad for your skin.”

“Robin,” Steve shook his head as he shut his car door before walking around to get Robin’s too.

“What? All legitimate questions! Right, Eds?” she shot back.

“I mean, not the first thing I’d ask,” Eddie replied with a grin, but you could hear the softness of him behind it.

“Alright, well I wouldn’t expect you to know anyway. Weddings are like a foreign language to you plebs,” Robin said simply, clicking her fanny pack around her waist.

“Hey, that’s not fair, I know enough,” Steve chimed in, propping a hand on his hip and giving Robin a look.

“Children, not about us today!” Eddie chided, following after Robin and gathering you up into one of his bear hugs. “Hi, sweetheart,” he held you out at arm’s length and gave you a warm Eddie smile.

“Hi,” you grinned back, the happiest you’d been in days just listening to the comforting sound of your friends bickering, “Missed you.”

“Mmm, you too,” Eddie hummed, shooting a quick glance over at Steve. “Some of us more than others,” he said a bit quieter, bringing his eyes back to you and you felt your cheeks flush.

“Okay, hike?” you deflected, then accusingly looked back at Eddie, “You’re not still smoking are you?”

“Only on Wednesdays,” he flipped back casually, but you knew he was full of shit.

“Munson, you’re a horrible liar,” Steve drawled, rolling his eyes, starting the walk to the edge of the bluff. “Nance and Jonathan are already at the top,” he said over his shoulder, “Jonathan wanted to get a time lapse of the sunrise.”

“Oh, sick,” Eddie clapped his hands, “I gotta see it. C’mon, Buckley get with it.” He waved an arm forward, pulling Robin into a jog and you shook your head with a soft laugh as you caught up with Steve. Starting up the bluff two by two.

The sounds of everything coming to life swirled around the four of you as you walked. The buzz of the insects, birds chirping their morning songs and tractors rumbling to life in the fields alongside the bluff.

Home.

“God, the last time we were up here was so Dustin could talk to Suzie,” Steve half-laughed, Eddie and Robin walking just ahead of you. You grinned at the memory.

“Oh no,” you shook your head, “They might be worse than we are at singing.”

“Didn’t think it was possible to be honest,” he teased gently, smiling over at you, looking for a long moment before dropping his gaze back down to his feet.

You could feel his eyes on you and the warmth of it filled you up and spilled over at the edges, making you happier than you’d been in a long time and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest.

“Thanks for getting up so early,” you exhaled, breaths getting heavier as the incline of the bluff steepened, Steve pulling in a breath next to you.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve slept in since high school,” he waved you off, “Managing a store’s got me up ass early every day. Besides, wouldn’t miss it.” Arms swinging at your sides, his fingers brushed against yours as you walked and the embers in your chest glowed bright.

“Yeah,” you sighed, wishing that for once Sam had come along. That he’d put even a little bit of effort into your interests. That he’d care even a fraction of what Steve cared and the embers flickered again with your frustration.

“You two are slow as hell!” Eddie teased and when you looked up you saw he and Robin had been moving much faster than you and Steve. “I’m smoking a victory cigarette at the top!” he yelled and Robin smacked him, both of them dissolving into laughter.

“C’mon, that asshole doesn’t need another cigarette,” Steve’s brow furrowed in frustration and he picked up the pace, pulling you along with him as he lengthened his stride.

Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for the four of you at the top and, much to Eddie’s dismay, Robin beat him by a couple of feet, stealing his cigarettes and jamming them into her fanny pack as punishment.

Jonathan had asked Nancy to marry him two years ago now, Christmas eve under the tree at the farm and they’d eloped that spring there on top of the bluff. It had been a small, but sweet ceremony, with only family and close friends. Perfectly Nance and Jonathan and as you thought back on it your stomach twisted with a longing feeling.

As you sat scattered among the long grass in pairs – Eddie and Robin, Nancy and Jonathan, you and Steve – a breeze picked up and blew through the wildflowers around you, taking then with it and you watched as the buttercups danced in the wind.

You wanted wildflowers. Not peonies and eucalyptus.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Steve’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked over at him, sat close enough to you in the grass that you could see all the little moles and freckles that dotted down the line of his jaw, his neck, the exposed skin along the top of his shirt.

“Flowers,” fell out and you didn’t shy away from him, meeting his gaze.

“Flowers?” he asked, brow knitting together in confusion.

“Stupid flowers. And cake. And nature and socks and–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. What are you talking about?” Steve scooted closer to you, your legs pressing together as you sat facing each other and he put a hand on your knee.

Your throat tightened and you felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you willed them away. Not here. You didn’t mean it.

“Hey,” he said softer, hand lifting from your knee to press into yours and you blinked hastily, pulling in a breath to steady yourself.

“I don’t know,” you started, closing your eyes for a minute, trying to ground yourself. “I just–I thought this would be easier. We’re supposed to be in love and planning this should be fun, but it sucks and he–” catching yourself you looked back up at Steve and felt him squeeze your hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just stress. I shouldn’t–”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve said, thumb brushing over the bump of your knuckles, soft and warm and reassuring.

He was looking at you again like he had at the welcome party, like you were the only thing that existed in that moment and you felt yourself moving closer, your legs hovering over his with the lack of space.

“I wish Sam would look at me like that,” you whispered and Steve’s lips parted in surprise, anticipation grabbing hold of both of you as the wind picked up again.

“He’s an idiot if he doesn’t,” Steve whispered back, leaning closer still and you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek. The scent of his shampoo and spearmint gum and cedar and wildflowers flooding your brain and making everything feel hazy. His eyes all bright amber and flecks of gold in the sun. Closer and closer and closer and–

“Harrington! You left the food in the car!”

Leaning back from each other you felt the tension shatter with the bark of Eddie’s voice and you leapt to your feet.

“God, what a dingus,” Robin grumbled, “Now we gotta go back down.”

“Hey,” Steve scrambled to his feet ignoring them, grabbing your hand in his, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just–I forgot I have to meet with the baker today about the cake this morning.”

“Oh,” Steve’s expression was edged with concern and he let your hand drop as the others started moving to the top of the trail.

“Rehearsal dinner is tonight right?” Robin asked offhandedly, grabbing a piece of licorice from her fanny pack.

“You have licorice in there and didn’t offer me any?” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, tonight at seven at Hop and Joyce’s farm,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the warm feeling of Steve was still holding you tightly.

“Open bar?” Eddie grinned.

“Oh my god, Munson. Shut up,” Robin chided, shoving him as they all wandered down the path in a line, you and Steve bringing up the rear.

“Course it’s open bar,” you tried to laugh, but it fell short, everything feeling like it was crumbling now.

The breeze picked up, swirling around your feet, carrying spearmint and Steve’s shampoo and boy with it and as you watched the bachelor buttons sway with the wind you felt a thought gnawing at the back of your mind.

What if.

There was still time.

Nothing’s permanent.

People change their minds all the time and…

Come over here. All you've got is this moment, twenty-first century's yesterday. You can care all you want, everybody does, yeah, that's okay.

“Chug, chug, chug!” “Don’t be a pussy, Jason!” “No way, he’s too old!”

It felt like you were back in high school throwing a rager over at Tina Rochester’s house not having drinks after your rehearsal dinner, but after most of the ‘adults’ had all gone home things got carried away.

Hop and Joyce’s farm was far enough outside of town that the noise wouldn’t bother anyone and thank god because it was loud. Maybe open bar hadn’t been the best idea, but Sam was having a great time, smiling and laughing for once and you didn’t fight it. You were having fun too.

“Ohhh! He did it!!” “Get that man a medal!”

Jason Carver, Sam’s best man, crushed his empty beer can under his foot to whoops and hollers. You weren’t sure who started it, but someone had told someone else they could shotgun a beer faster and it spiraled from there. Sam was in his element, partying alongside the other ex-basketball players, and for a minute you felt like maybe things would be okay.

Gathering you up in his arms, Sam spun you in a circle, pressing his lips messy and drunk against your cheek. “God, babe. Should be illegal to look that good,” he slurred into your ear, arms still holding you tight as he lowered you slowly back to the ground.

A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. “Gonna write me a ticket?” you teased and he reached a hand around to grab at your ass.

“Maybe I will,” he breathed and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but then a voice pulled him away.

“Sam? Oh my god!”

Carol and Tommy. Great.

“Carol?? I didn’t think y’all were getting here til tomorrow! Tommy, you look like shit,” Sam barked a laugh and lunged at his old friend, grabbing him around the waist and pushing him across the patio.

“Fuck off, you’re one to talk,” Tommy growled back, digging his hands into Sam’s ribs and both of them fell back into their old selves. Talking about a couple of friends that had gone pro, work, what married life was like for Tommy and Carol.

“Babe, go get me another beer, huh?” Sam said over his shoulder and you rolled your eyes, but giving Carol a quick hug you made your way over to the keg.

Priming the tap you started to pour beer into a cup, but it sputtered and choked before spilling foam and you frowned. “Piece of shit,” kicking the keg you shook the garbage can it was sitting in and tried again, but this time nothing came out.

“Need a hand?”

Eyes still on the keg you sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you dumped the foam in your cup onto the ground. “Tapped already,” you grumbled, turning around to see Steve grinning at you, hands jammed in his pockets, tie loose and hanging around his neck and you swore he was the most handsome human being you’d ever laid eyes on.

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he took the last few steps toward you and primed the tap again, giving the keg one firm shake, and grabbed the cup from you. Foam started coming out and you jammed your tongue into your cheek.

“Ha! Told you–”

But then the foam turned into cold, amber beer, and you clamped your mouth shut.

“You were saying?” Steve teased and you shoved him, spilling some of the beer that he’d just poured into your cup on the ground. “Hey! You’re a menace,” he chided softly, shouldering you back, but grabbing the spout again he filled the cup once more and handed it back to you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, glancing over at him as you took a sip.

“Sam seems to be having a good time,” he commented, finding a cup of his own and filling it.

“Yeah, right back to high school.” You watched as your fiance, Tommy, and Jason all snickered and laughed at each other, talking about ‘the good old’ days, and your smile fell.

You couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that with you. When he was drinking he got more handsy, liked to keep you close to his side and brag about how you were about to get married, but nothing about how hard you worked or the fact that you were saving up to buy a place.

“I dunno,” Steve sighed, taking a drink of his beer, “I don’t miss it.”

“Me either,” you agreed, glancing up at him, and your heart stopped.

God he was pretty. The string of lights that wound around the property washed him in a warm glow. Hair falling out of place as the night spun on, the line of his jaw cast in half light, dark and strong, the long sweep of his lashes as he blinked and looked down at you, the way his lips pulled up into that smile.

“What?” Steve asked, tone amused and playful and your eyes grew wide.

“What?” you echoed stupidly.

Steve laughed and gave you a lopsided smile. “You tell me, you’re the one zoning out,” he teased and your cheeks flushed.

“Oh, n-nothing,” you stumbled over your words and quickly filled the silence with another gulp of beer.

“Okay, well when it comes back to you lemme know.” His eyes lingered on yours for just a moment longer and then a look came over him. Like he remembered something. “Oh, hey. C’mere a minute,” and then he was grabbing your hand and pulling you around the side of the barn.

As he pulled you into motion you felt just how buzzed you were and a giggle pushed itself through your lips. “What the hell are we doing?” you asked, Steve loosing a laugh of his own as he yanked you both to a stop a few yards away from the party out in the long grass of Hop’s field.

“There,” he said pointing up and you followed the line of his arm into the sky until your eyes landed on it.

“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your gaze back to Steve as he looked up into the inky black expanse of the Indiana night. He was just how you remembered him. Hair messed, all boyish and eyes full of wonder and curiosity, just like he’d been those years ago that night in his backyard while you floated in his pool.

“Yeah, that one. Right there,” Steve swam closer to you, grabbing your arm, fingers folding yours in to make a point and tugging it up over your head.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his legs brushed against yours under the water and it took everything you had in you to pull your eyes from him to look up.

“See it?”

“That one?” you asked, pointing on your own, and he nodded as your eyes trailed up the line of your arm to land on an especially bright star.

“Mmhm,” Steve murmured and all you wanted was to look at him again, so you did. “While you’re gone you can just look up at that at night and think of me,” he said matter-of-fact, giving you one of his lopsided grins.

“What if we’re not looking at the same time?”

“I’ll always be looking,” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper and the way he looked at you made you feel like you might melt. Blinking water from your lashes you lifted a hand to his cheek and at your touch his hands slipped along the bare skin of your waist, sliding down to your hips as he slowly pulled you into him.

The pool filter was humming heavy between the all crickets and frogs and lightning bugs, but you knew the thudding of your heartbeat was louder than all of it.

Wrapping your legs around Steve’s torso, you laced your fingers at the back of his neck, wanting him closer and tighter. Hair messed and flat against his forehead, his lips were parted as he breathed you in, water dripping off the end of his nose and eyes glittering in the pool lights, burnt caramel and honey and if he hadn’t been holding onto you, you would’ve floated away.

His fingers pressed into the soft skin at your hips and you sucked in a small gasp.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and you shook your head in reply. It’s okay. And then he gently pressed his thumb to the corner of your lips, swallowing against his nerves, and asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Heart racing, fingers still tangled at the back of his neck you whispered, “Yes.”

“Remember when we found it?”

Steve’s question brought you hurtling back to the present and you shook your head, heart racing in your chest like it had that night in his pool. “Of course I remember,” you murmured, and you knew you were crossing a line, knew you shouldn’t have done it, knew Sam was just around the other side of the barn, but something in you snapped. Shifted. Decided it didn’t care and you took Steve’s hand in yours.

His eyes flicked down to where they were joined and then back up to you, “But–”

“We’re friends,” you reasoned softly, “Friends hold hands.”

“Are we?” he asked and you swore you felt your heart crack as your fingers scrambled to tangle up with his.

“Yeah. Yes. We are,” your words came spilling out, the beer spidering warm and hazy through your body as you tried to justify your action and Steve’s brows furrowed as he dropped his gaze.

“I should go,” he said and regret gripped you like a vice.

“Don’t, please don’t,” your tone was almost pleading, watching as Steve’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, working through his own decision and you thought for a minute he would cave like he always did for you, but then his hand was untangling from yours and the ache in your chest was almost enough to pull tears from your eyes.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, voice thick and low, and when he opened his eyes finally to look at you, you saw a thousand I’m sorrys, all the regret and lingering kisses on hot summer nights and promises whispered in the dark and you shook your head.

“But it’s not–we can’t–please stay,” nothing you said made sense and Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you at the church.”

And as you watched his figure walk away, silhouetted and dark against the indigo sky, your star blinking bright above you, you felt tears finally well up and spill down your cheeks.

Sucking in a breath you turned back to the the wide open expanse of field behind you and buried your face in your hands, trying to calm down, willing the tears to stop, telling yourself that you loved Sam. You were getting married. The ring on your finger a constant reminder of what was supposed to happen tomorrow and when you finally lifted your head from your hands your eyes fell on a bright patch there in the field at your feet.

Wildflowers.

Walking back to the party felt like a blur, Steve’s words playing over and over in your mind, and when you came back into the glow of the strung up lights your eyes searched frantically for Sam. If you could just hold his hand, pull him in close you’d know you loved him. Would know you wanted to marry him, but he wasn’t there and everything felt like it was unraveling.

“Hey, are you okay?” Robin’s hand was at your elbow and when you looked up at her, her brow furrowed with worry. “Whoa, what happened?”

“I just need to find Sam, have you seen him?”

“Yeah, yeah I think he was just over here, c’mon. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just need Sam,” you choked out, Robin’s hand grabbing yours and pulling you along.

“Okay, we’ll find him, it’ll be okay.”

And as you rounded the corner into the quiet of the barn you heard hushed voices. Robin flicked on the overhead lighting to reveal Carol and Sam talking, huddled close to one another and your heart stopped in your chest.

“Wha–Sam? Carol?”

Carol’s eyes went wide and she took a couple steps back, giving you one of her smiles, all flimsy and saccharine sweet. “Oh my god, we thought you left!” she exclaimed, trying a laugh and you heard Robin mumble something under her breath next to you.

“Well, I didn’t. It’s my rehearsal dinner.”

“Babe, we were just trying to plan a surprise for you. For tomorrow, that’s all,” Sam said, taking the few steps toward you, taking your hand in his, but you felt sick to your stomach. You knew that look in his eye, his tone of voice overcompensating for something, lying.

“Yeah! Totally,” Carol said a little too enthusiastically and Robin had had enough.

“Oh my god, totally great!” she mocked, throwing one of Carol’s empty smiles back at her before taking your hand. “It’s super late, Carol. Time to go,” this time Robin’s voice was void of all joking and the look she gave the other girl was enough to push her to leave.

“Absolutely, sure thing. See you tomorrow! Can’t wait,” she purred, but her smile faltered as she met your gaze, walking quickly back out into the night.

“Babe, we really were planning a surprise, I–I just want tomorrow to be perfect,” Sam took your hand from Robin, shouldering her out of the way and she scoffed, still lingering in case you needed her.

“In here? In the dark?” your voice wobbled a bit as you realized what you were implying and Sam squeezed your hand, but it felt suffocating not warm or safe like Steve and you pulled it away. “I’m gonna go home, get some sleep.”

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need,” Sam crowded around you, rubbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, but you didn’t want any of it and shrugged him off.

“Can you give me a ride, Robs?” you asked, pulling away from Sam, your feet not moving you fast enough.

“Yeah, yeah I can give you a ride,” Robin took your hand again, Sam finding himself alone in the wide expanse of the barn on the eve of your wedding.

The happiest day of your life.

“Listen, can I tell you something?” Robin said shifting into park as she turned down the radio and idled in your parents’ driveway.

“Sure,” your voice was small, timid, not you as your thoughts still lingered on what Steve had said. What Sam and Carol had looked like huddled close together in Hop’s barn. Asking yourself why. Asking yourself what you really wanted.

“I don’t think you should get married.”

Your head whipped up from your lap, brows knitted together. “What?”

“I don’t think you should get married,” Robin said again voice softer this time, knowing the weight it carried as she let it settle in the car between you.

“It’s literally happening tomorrow. What d’you mean don’t get married,” you were scrambling now, afraid of what would happen if you let her woods take root, the doubt that had been hovering deep down now pushing itself front and center.

“People do it all the time–”

“No, they don’t!” tears were welling up against your lashes, your face growing hot, willing yourself not to fall apart.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. Of course I’m gonna support you no matter what you decide,” Robin quickly recovered, grabbing your hands in hers as her expression softened. “Just–” a small sigh escaped her and she squeezed your hand, “–I want you to be happy. That’s all. Are you happy?”

Are you happy?

Robin looked at you, eyes wide, hands still holding onto yours and you felt yourself wrestling with the three simple words she’d thrown at you. Swallowing thickly, you couldn’t meet her gaze and pulled your hands away, grabbing at the door handle.

“I’m happy, I am,” and even you knew how flimsy it sounded, but your friend didn’t push you on it.

“Okay, okay. See you in the morning,” Robin said softly and all you could do was nod in reply before shutting the door and hurrying up the walk and into your parents’ house.

You didn’t bother showering as you moved quickly up the stairs to your room, not wanting to face your parents, not like this. Quietly shutting your door you felt the sob in your chest clawing its way up your throat and you tried to swallow it down as you threw back your covers and hid in the deep pile of blankets. You thought for a split second to call Sam over at Jason’s, ask him if he really loved you, if he still wanted to go through with this, but you buried your face into your pillow and tried to push your thoughts away.

Doubt had started blooming in the pit of your stomach from the moment you’d said yes, but it had just felt like the next right thing. Felt like you were supposed to. Date your boyfriend for a couple of years, move in together, get married. Right? But the things you tried hard to ignore kept bubbling up.

Your hesitation when Sam first asked you out. Your trips home on breaks and seeing Steve. The feelings you wrestled with when you saw him. When he talked to you and listened, really listened and looked at you. How it felt like a giant weight being lifted from your shoulders without Sam there.

Your first fight with Sam over money. How he spent so much of it going out with his friends. How you knew they stayed out late and talked to other girls. The high he got from it too much to stop him from doing it. The smell of the other girls on his clothes.

The first time he cheated on you and begged you to take him back. How the first person you wanted to call was Steve, but you called Robin instead.

And now the planning. All the disagreements and arguing and fighting and you were exhausted and he couldn’t even keep away from other women, from Carol, still after all that time.

Are you happy?

Robin’s question looped in your head and you knew the real answer.

No. But then…

Tap. Tap, tap tap.

Peeking your head out from under your covers your ears strained, trying to decide what it was you’d heard. Then it happened again.

Tap, tap. Tap.

There was only one thing that could make that sound, an all too familiar one that pulled forth a flood of precious, happy memories.

Rocks on your window.

Steve.

Crawling out of your bed you hurried to your window and yarded it open, sticking your head out and looking down like you’d done hundreds of times before. “Steve?” you hissed into the dark, and as the wind blew the clouds away from the moon, it shone down on the lawn below you washing Steve in soft light.

“Can I come up?”

You bit your bottom lip between your teeth, but knew there was no debate. “Yeah, hurry up,” and you moved out of the way as he started climbing the gutter before you’d even said yes.

Stumbling in through the open window Steve straightened up and dusted off his old, faded Hawkins High Athletics shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants hanging on his hips, the same pair of dirty, beat up Blazers on his feet.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, tongue jammed into his cheek as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hi?” it came out expectantly, a question, but you couldn’t hide the relief in your voice at the sight of him standing there in your room.

“Listen, I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier,” he said, walking to your bed and plopping down on the messed up covers.

“Oh, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have–”

“Just let me apologize,” he said shaking his head with a half laugh, expression mismatched as it twisted with something between regret and care.

So you listened and kept your mouth shut, instead deciding to settle down next to him on your bed, thighs pressed together on the small twin sized mattress. Silence lingered for a minute, but the air was heavy, loaded, like how it felt right before a thunderstorm. The sky holding its breath before opening up and pouring rain, cracking the sky in half with bright streaks of light.

You both stole a look at the same time and it pulled a smile from each of you, tiny breathy laughs falling from your lips, but when it quieted again the tension flooded back in.

“Do you love him?” Steve broke the quiet and you felt your chest tighten. When you hesitated he grabbed your hand in his. “Do you?”

Your pulse fluttered against your neck, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water and stumbling and choking on your words, but you knew the answer. You both did. You’d just admitted it to yourself before Steve had fallen through your window and the familiar feeling of panic started to creep in around you, flinging you back to right before you’d left home again. Before you met Sam.

“Steve! Wait!”

You were practically running after him as he stalked back to his car, the sky on fire with the sunset and streaked in cherry reds, sunflower yellows, and bright tangerine.

He fumbled with his keys and dropped them into the grass at his feet, “Shit.”

“Please, just wait,” you were out of breath as you finally reached him and you saw his frame crumple as he loosed a sigh.

“Jesus, what?” his tone was short, clipped as he stared through his car window, your reflection playing against the glass.

“It’s only for another year, it’s not like I’m gonna be gone for–”

“Yeah! Another year!” Steve spun around to face you, cheeks red and lips pulled down into a frown, a muddied mixture of sadness and anger swimming in his eyes. “Just admit it, you don’t wanna come back here, and that’s fine! But don’t make me wait. Please don’t make me wait anymore. It–” Steve choked on his words and dropped his eyes to his feet, biting on the inside of his cheek to blunt the feelings swelling his chest. “It hurts. To sit and wait here for you. Please,” his voice edged on pleading and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“It’ll work! It’s just a little longer–”

Steve took a step into you, crowding over you, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest at the closeness of him. He lifted a hand to your cheek, his brows pulling together as he looked down at you, eyes searching yours. “Then be with me. If it’s not that long then be with me. Long distance for a little while until you’re done with school,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Steve. I can’t–” your throat tightened around what you were about to say, scared of what that commitment looked like, scared to fuck it up between you, scared to lose your best friend, but your hesitation broke it anyway.

He dropped his hand away from your cheek, tongue flicking out to run along his lips as he held back his anger. His sadness. Frustration. Snatching his keys from the grass he unlocked the driver side door and flung it open rough.

“No! Wait! I just mean–”

“No!” he shouted into his car and then lowered his voice, tears streaming silently down his cheeks, “No. No more. Good luck with…everything.” And he piled into his car, slamming the door shut and ignoring your cries as you crowded against his window, asking him to stay. To talk about it. To figure things out, but he shifted it in drive and took off down your driveway and into the night.

You weren’t going to fuck it up. Not again.

“No,” and as your admission left your lips the heavy weight that had settled on your shoulders over the last two years started to melt away. “No. I don’t love him.”

Steve’s hold on you tightened, pressing your fingers into his palm and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, eyes searching yours, “Don’t marry him.”

Don’t marry him.

Your breath quickened and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to reason out what you’d just decided and you felt anxious, but Steve was there. And your room was warm and safe. Just like it was when you were younger. When you both laughed and traded secrets and made promises to each other in the dark.

“But. The wedding. The flowers, the cake, the guests–”

“Fuck ‘em,” Steve said, still holding onto your hand, and his words swirled around in your head. “It’s only a wedding. This is your life,” brushing the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, “You’re not happy.”

And you weren’t. You’d had moments with Sam, moments in time where things felt right and like maybe it could be forever, but they were just that. Moments. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’d sacrificed, compromised, bent and twisted yourself to be what Sam wanted, what he needed, not what you wanted and when you finally looked up at Steve you felt tears welling up against your lashes.

“What will my mom say,” your voice wobbled as you tangled your fingers with Steve’s and he gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“She wants you to be happy too. She’ll be okay.”

You were dizzy, hazy with thoughts of not being engaged anymore, buzzing with the anticipation of what this decision meant. Of what it held. What the future could be and you looked back up at Steve, tears started to quietly spill down your cheeks and his hand was quick to gently wipe them away. You shook your head, holding your breath, and when you let it go everything came tumbling out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for making you wait. For hurting you. For everything–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Steve softly chided, but you pressed on.

“No, no it’s my turn,” you said, voice thick through your tears, and then you turned to cup Steve’s face in your hands. A small smile pulled up at the corners of your mouth even through your crying and you pulled in a breath, “I love you, Stevie. I always have.”

The look on his face then was one of pure adoration, of relief, and he gave you a smile back, “I know. I love you too.”

I love you too.

Pulling him into you, you felt the soft warmth of his breath across your cheek, the smell of his shampoo and fresh laundry flooding your senses. Hesitating, waiting for him to tell you it was okay and he silently answered you by leaning in and closing the gap between your lips, pressing his softly into yours.

It was slow and languid, a thousand I love yous. Years of want and aching set free into the dark of your room as you breathed each other in like air. The feeling of Steve scattering you out into the stars to live with the one you’d deemed as yours, falling between all the glittering constellations and floating in each other.

I love you too.

Reluctantly Steve pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open to look into yours and he took hold of your waist. “Run away with me,” he whispered.

Your brows pulled together, “Run away?”

“Yeah. Right now. Throw your suitcase in my car and we’ll just drive. Get away from everything, just for a little while until you’re ready.”

Mind racing, working through the logistics of what he was suggesting, you almost protested, but something in you fought back. Told you to listen to your heart, not your head. What did you want? What would make you happy?

“Okay.”

“Really?” Steve’s face lit up at your response, like he hadn’t expected it, and you felt your lips pull up into a smile, tears drying on your cheeks as you let the feeling swallow you up in its warmth. The embers in your chest crackling and flickering with life, with a fire that burned only for him.

“Yeah, yeah I don’t care. I just want to be with you,” you felt yourself grow more and more confident, more decided and Steve pulled you in again to press another kiss to your lips. This time it was hotter, bolder, a confession of passion and you grinned into him.

“C’mon, if we go now we can get coffee at that shitty diner just off the highway outside of town,” he was grinning now too.

“They make the best pancakes,” you laughed softly and Steve’s smile melted as he looked at you.

Finally.

He helped you gather your things, carrying your suitcase out to his car, and you felt like you could fly. Lighter than you’d been in years and the thought of just driving down the road with him filled you with warmth. Like watching the sun set at the end of a hot summer day. Like dipping your feet in the pool after sitting in the heat. Sweet like the taste that followed after a tart drink of lemonade.

You left your engagement ring on your dresser, a small folded note under it for Sam telling him sorry. Telling him you hoped he would find what he wanted. That you knew he’d be okay. And as you closed the door to your parents’ house you felt like you were closing that chapter. Ready to start new. To free fall into this open-ended story with Steve and as you settled into his car your eyes caught a small patch of lawn on the side of your house. Bright and soft in the moonlight and full of color.

Wildflowers.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

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samgavriel · 1 year ago

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bberetd · 5 months ago

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I woke up in a cutesy fluffy mood today so I’m dumping my cutesy fluffy mood onto these goons 🚶‍♀️

This takes place one day post-marriage!

Bright

He woke up with the blinding orange-tinted sunlight in his eyes. It took him a while to stir, trying to remember if he was real or not. It wasn’t until he moved his arms that he realized they felt stiff, so he outstretched them from their current position, then moved them back onto the wonderfully soft and silk object he was holding.

Wait, what am I holding?

Luigi cast his eyes up in thought and slight fear. A small, paranoid part of him that maybe it was one of those good dreams gone bad where he would discover that it was a giant spider he was holding and devour him whole once he made eye contact. But he took a chance and ran his right hand down the material, and the curiosity immediately faded away; he recognized that feeling from anywhere. He tilted his head down, enough to see his beautiful princess sleeping against him, or at least the top of her hair and forehead, since her face was buried in his chest.

He smiled tiredly, now comfortably combing his hand through the back of her suddenly larger-looking hair. Humidity had never been kind to Daisy; she would always wake up with a hundred percent frizzier hair. It got worse as she got older, and because of this, she had to wake up earlier in the mornings, as it would take more time to make it look normal again. They both couldn’t help but wonder what powers above in the Overthere gave her this curse. As far as Daisy could remember, she had always been well-behaved. Pretty much.

But the frizz unveiled the true volume of Daisy’s hair, and it just gave Luigi more to run his hands through, so it was a win in his book. He brought his left arm up to pet her bangs, pulling her closer in the process. That was when his eyes registered the shiny diamond on his ring finger, and everything snapped into place: He was holding his wife. And he, he was a husband! The knowledge was enough to make his heart jump and further wake him up. His reality was further confirmed as he felt the same rock gently pressing onto his back from Daisy’s own finger. The room suddenly felt a lot brighter. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be holding the most beautiful woman in Sarasaland, hell, all the kingdoms in this world, so closely and intimately, and call him his, and him hers.

Luigi felt Daisy’s eyelashes flutter against his chest, a surefire sign that she was waking up, making his smile grow. He leaned in and whispered against her forehead. “Buongiorno, Fiore.”

Daisy made a sleepy noise, clutching and unclutching the back of his shirt, which in Daisinese (a language Luigi and their friends proudly created) meant, “I’m awake, but I’m too tired to talk.” Luigi couldn’t help but let out a light huff of amusement. Sleepy Daisy was a hard contrast from awake and chipper Daisy. One of the things that he found cute about her was how she was a grabber in her sleep, clenching her hand around anything it came into contact with. In some moments when she was napping, Luigi would hover over her and place his hand where their hands would meet. Normally, her face was resting in her sleep, but when her hand would unknowingly close around Luigi’s, a small smile would form on her face, as if she could feel his presence.

Daisy held Luigi a bit tighter in her half-asleep state, mumbling something incoherent against his chest. Luigi chuckled lightly.

“Wake up, you,” he teased before planting several light kisses on her forehead, which resulted in tired, muffled giggles from Daisy, and the shaking of her head. He pulled back slightly and looked for his next favorite spot on Daisy’s face: her freckles, dotted and perfectly aligned on the top of her cheeks. He leaned in again to kiss each and every one of them, further stirring Daisy awake.

“Stooooooooopp,” she laughed, moving her arms to push at Luigi’s chest. Normally, fifty percent of Daisy’s power would be enough to knock Luigi off the bed, but she was sleepy and hardly trying, letting him win even. Luigi laughed with her, grabbing both her hands in his own and smiling from ear to ear.

“Then wake up!”

Daisy’s eyes finally opened, in slow motion it felt like, and they met Luigi’s. She gave him a goofy smile before moving her eyes down to their joined hands, taking note of the rings on their finger. Her smile softened, but then brightened, looking back up to Luigi. “Morning… hubby.”

Luigi gave her a playful but heartfelt smile. “Morning… wifey.” His face twisted up slightly at how the word sounded coming out of his mouth. And a silent, agreeing single nod from Daisy confirmed that he would never say that again. But it was back to smiles after that.

“Nooo. Italian-ify it or something. I like when you do that.” Daisy smiled sweetly.

Luigi thought for a moment before the term popped into his head and tried his greeting again. “Okay, then. Good morning, moglie.”

Daisy blushed and giggled like an idiot, using their now entwined hands to cover her mouth. She loved how smoothly Italian rolled off his tongue. “Much better.” She tugged on his hands, pulling him in for a tender morning kiss.

Luigi smiled into the kiss, closing his eyes. Today would definitely be a good day.

#bb's writing #short story #it's 10am and i wrote this in bed LOL #finalllyyy got to put my Daisy hair heacanon in a story #i want Luigi to be 80% confidence 20% anxiety as he and Daisy's relationship grows #super mario #luigi #princess daisy #luaisy #luigi x daisy #boma's stories

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year ago

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| Pairing | husband!felix x chubby!fem!reader

| Genre | fluff & smut but make it apocalyptic

| Summary | A rouge planet's headed into our solar system, charting a course toward Earth with an 80% chance of collision. As the end grows near you indulge in a few final precious moments of intimacy with your husband.

| Word Count | 1.1kish

| Warnings | unprotected sex but, like, honey it's the apocalypse. a possibility of utter extinction...maybe. the ending is ambiguous because I'm a softie, sue me.

| A/N | I happen to be a retro sci-fi flick nerd, a K-pop nerd, and a hopeless romantic so this is how it manifested. As always, I hope you guys enjoy it 🖤

Extending your arm straight out in front of you, you flex the muscles in your hand. Wiggle your fingers in the ultraviolet wisps that drift through the air and make your wedding ring look like a tiny galaxy, a precious diamond sprinkled with stardust. The Earth is tinted a weathered blue and so are you.

So are the flowers that hug your bare feet as you stand in the back garden of your summer cabin. So are the tomatoes. The radishes. The carrots. The peppers. You can’t help but wonder if this is how the fish at the aquarium feel. Trapped in a blue gradient prison with nowhere to run, haunted by the knowledge that, no matter where things began, this is where it ends.

Your husband quietly approaches your side, twirling a daisy plucked from a nearby field between his fingers. He brings his arm around your waist, gently caressing the plush of your side. You exhale the breath that’s been trapped inside your chest, your body soothed by his touch even on the brink of the apocalypse. Felix tucks the flower behind your ear. It’s blue too. Like him. Like you.

Only it seems to glow and so does he but that’s the way it’s always been. Long before a rogue planet, starless and orphaned, came hurling into our solar system Felix glowed and everything he touched did too. Including you. “How much time left?” you ask, losing yourself in the longing of his gaze. The tips of his fingers delight in the softness of your skin as he cradles your cheek, “With you? Never enough.”

Felix smiles, oh, that smile, and the corners of your mouth curve to mirror his. A moment of serenity, of normalcy, precious but fleeting. In the distance lightning strikes like you’ve never seen it before. Chased by a fierce rumbling in the clouds, it makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Felix clasps your face, grounding you as he kisses you with every bit of love within him.

If this is it, the last moment that he gets with the woman at the very center of his universe, he has to spend it with his lips pressed to yours. His tongue swirls around yours, penning every love letter not yet written on the inside of your cheeks. Lightning strikes again but this time you don’t see that sharp white light crackle through the sky. You don't hear the foreboding rumbling of the sky. Falling deeper under his spell, you’re numb to everything but him.

“Felix” you whisper, your breath chilling the thin layer of moisture on his bottom lip, “Could you do something for me?” “Anything,” he says, meaning it more than you know. “Make love to me…here…like the first time. I just…” He pulls you back into the kiss, cutting your explanation short. There’s no need to explain or to appeal to him. He remembers, exactly as you do, the first weekend he brought you here. How special it was.

You’d been together for a month then, not even official. Felix never invited anyone out to the cabin with him. Tucked away in the heart of a picturesque forest with no neighbors for miles, this was his quiet place but it never felt utopian until you came. The garden had been your idea and it was here, together beneath the rising sun, that you made love for the first time. How serendipitous that it should be your last.

By the time your body’s nestled in the lush grass, you’ve plucked each other’s clothes away like the petals of a flower, leaving them sprinkled around the garden. Seeing you stare up at him, your gloriously curved body bare for him, has him reciting quiet prayers that he has enough time to indulge in every bit of you. For Felix, it’s not about the end. Not about chasing some high or crossing a finish line.

It’s about the gasp you just took when he kissed your neck, nibbling at it with just the right amount of pressure. It’s about the way you grip his hair at the root when his tongue traces your collarbone, massaging his scalp as his mouth meets your pillowy breasts, his tongue twining around your delicate buds. “I love you” he repeats, his professions muffled by hungry mouthfuls of your breasts. But you hear him. You feel him.

Kneading the squish of your belly. Parting your thighs. Swiping his fingers between the silky lips of your pussy. Rolling your clit beneath his thumb. You feel all of it. “I love you too. I love you. Ah…” you whine, something shifting in the air as two fingers ease into you, twisting and curling in response to every faint quivering of your walls. Craving the taste of you, he dips his head between your thighs, drinking the nectar that trickles from you like a stream, making him salivate as the flavor awakens his taste buds.

The rush of euphoria that washes over your body is unyielding, intensifying with each flick of his tongue and bend of his wrist. The world around you is quieter than before, the angelic sounds spilling from your lips the only thing Felix can hear. The only thing he cares to hear. A particularly desperate whine signals to him that the tension within you is ready to snap. “Mmm, not yet” he hums, licking his way up your body, leaving a trail of your juices behind.

Just enough remains that when your mouth parts to welcome him, you can still taste yourself on his tongue. “Felix!” you cry out, the nearly undetectable vibration of the ground coinciding with his length thrusting into you. For a moment, he doesn’t move, he just stays still, basking in the moment, throbbing as you squirm around him.

One of the starry ultraviolet wisps floats into your line of vision. You watch it pass with a strange sense of wonder. “I guess it’s like you always said,” Felix says, his hips rocking back and forth, driving you further and further toward your high with maddening intensity, “You and me to the end of the world.” You nod, the calmness of his voice bringing a certain peace to your mind, “To the end of the world.”

An 80% chance of collision. What that’d do to the human psyche no one could’ve predicted. Somewhere out there cities are crumbling. Lovers are becoming enemies and enemies are becoming lovers. People are bargaining with their gods or cursing them. The world is unraveling. And you?

Well, in your own way, you are too, your back arching and your eyes falling closed as you’re pushed beyond your limits, endorphins flooding your bloodstream. “To the end” he whispers, his arms around you once more, your face buried in his chest.

To the end…

The end…

The End?

#lee felix x you #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #lee felix fluff #lee felix smut #plus size reader #chubby reader

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autistook · 9 months ago

Text

DAISIES - pt 1

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader/soft oc

Words: 3.1k

Summary: You have been best friends with Merry (and Pippin) for several years. You see each other on almost a daily basis and have been referred to as the unseperable trio, as you do almost everything together, and have all been there for each other, through thick and thin. Slowly, you start to feel something shift. Something feels different when you look at Merry.

SLOOOOOOOW burning romance, pre - the Fellowship of the Ring.

Possible TW's: panic attack, anxiety, mentions of drowning and death, dead parents

English is not my first language, and this is the first fanfiction I have written since I was 10 years old, so I apologize for any errors or confusion. 😭 Treat me gently, I am sensitive to critisism lol

The sun glistened on the leaves, making the raindrops that fell on them the night before look like diamonds. The grass was damp under your feet, and the slight breeze felt comfortable on your skin. The sounds of the Shire were as usual: lots of Hobbits doing their regular chores, children running around and a few groans here and there, when the sleepiest of all were forced to get up early. Your gaze followed a beautiful bird flying from one tree to another. The bird was a beautiful one, with a bright-red chest and a grey back, the feathers on the wings being different shades of grey and black. It's melodic singing as it sat on the old willow branch, is always a reminder for the Shire folk that spring has arrived. There was a fresh lavender smell in the air, and as you stopped on your feet to enjoy it, you noticed another familiar scent.

Your gaze moved to a pastry shop window, and as you started walking towards it, you could see your best friends enjoying a couple of scones, filled with strawberry jam. Your lips curved into a smile as you opened the wooden door, and the bell above it rang to announce your arrival.

The friendly Hobbit lady behind the dusty, old counter greeted you gleefully. Her hair was grey, curls all the way down to her shoulders, and the smile lines nearing the corners of her eyes revealed just how happy of a personality she must have. But your eyes weren't focused on her, but to the two young Hobbits now noticing your entry. Pippin's green eyes sparkled with joy as he noticed you enter the room. More happy than Pippin to see you, was Merry. You had been best friends with the two for a number of years, and almost every week, the three of you would sit at the bakery, planning some mischevous pranks and talking about any new happenings around the Shire.

"We were wondering where you were!" Pippin exclaimed, mouth full of the delicious scone, and some red jam from it that had decided to settle on his lips. Amused at the sight, you smirked but still decided to not say anything, as usual. It would be funnier to see how long it would take him to notice his messy appearence.

"Sorry, I had other things in mind," you said in serious tone, pulling up a chair and sitting between the two. The round table was full of crumbs and there were two empty plates. You looked at the plates and then at your dearest friends, raising one brow as if to question how on earth they could have this ritual without you.

"We got hungry, I'm sorry!" Merry said, wiping his palms on his cream colored cotton shirt.

"How dare you!" you answered with a playfully offended tone. You turned to look at Pippin for an apology, but the young Hobbit just shrugged his shoulders, and kept munching the last piece of scone in his mouth. You shook your head and chuckled slightly, leaning back on your chair.

"What did you mean when you said you had other things in mind?" asked Merry, curiously, now wiping his mouth with a napkin. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms.

"It's been twenty years," you stated, as if Pippin and Merry were supposed to immediately understand the rest of that sentence. The two locked eyes. Their faces could only be described as curious, but utterly confused.

"Twenty years since what?" Merry inquired. His blue eyes looking straight into yours, his gaze making you feel like he was almost concerned.

"Since my parents died," you sighed. Pippin immediately turned to look at Merry, flustered as the two completely forgot about this tragic event in their best friend's life.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Merry apologized, his tone full of shame. "I completely forgot that was today."

"It's quite alright. You couldn't have known," you said with a faint smile. Your head might have told you to act fine, but the sadness behind your eyes revealed your true feelings: how tragically heartbroken you felt at that moment and how twenty years still wasn't enough of healing.

"But we should've remembered!" Merry cried in guilt. Pippin apologized, mouth full of scone, then finally swallowing the last piece. You reassured both of them that they did not offend you in any way, and that you would be fine.

"Is there anything we can do?" Merry asked, like he was in a rush to cheer you up.

"Yes! We could do something fun!" Pippin said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He slammed his hands on the table, making the empty plates clink against each other. "How about we go for a swim?"

"You know I can't swim, Peregrin!" you cried, arms still crossed, your fingers fidgeting with the soft fabric of the sleeves on your favorite yellow dress.

"Didn't you say you have had practice?" Pippin asked, puzzled.

"It doesn't mean I can."

"Well, we could always just go just hang around the water, you know?" Merry suggested, trying to not make your mood any worse. "We used to do that all the time when we were just little innocent Hobbits." You smiled at him with gratitude. Merry's lips curved upwards and his eyes had a glimmer of pride in them.

"That actually sounds great," you finally responded to him. "When should we go?"

"How about immediately?" said the young Took suddenly, and before either of you could answer, he was already up from his chair, quickly whisking away the empty plates from the table.

"I guess we're going?" you chuckled. You and Merry got up and before you could make a leave, he put his palm on your shoulder. His warm touch gave you a sense of comfort.

"But seriously, are you okay?" he asked, looking at you from under his brows, his eyes full of concern. You nodded and gave him a soft smile.

On your way to the river, the sun was rising higher in the sky, warming your skin. The spring breeze had settled, the lavender scent no longer lingering in the air.

"I can't believe you still can't swim," Pippin said, shaking his head. You groaned in frustration as a response. "You should know at this point!" he teased, skipping ahead of you and Merry. You shook your head. Still fidgeting with the fabric of your dress, Merry took notice of it.

"Can I help your anxiety in any way?" Merry said suddenly.

"How do you know I'm feeling anxious?" you asked, looking at him full of confusion. Merry smiled softly and compassionately.

"You always fidget something with your fingers when you feel anxious," he responded and gestured towards your sleeve, where the tips of your fingers now suddenly had stopped rubbing the dress, like they almost felt shy for being caught. You blinked slowly, moving your eyes to look at your delicate hands.

"I never realized that it was noticeable," you mumbled, slightly embarrassed. You were aware of it, but did not know it was a telltale sign of anxiety for others.

"We've been friends for years," he said, as the three of you kept walking towards the water on a gravel path, Pippin just slightly ahead of the two of you. "Of course I notice things like this."

You smiled at him, impressed by this small detail that he had noticed. Pippin was still slightly ahead of you two, every now and then stopping to gesture for you two to move faster. "That's kind of endearing, actually," you smiled and Merry let out a small snicker, turning his face to the ground.

"You actually have a lot of tells for how you're feeling," he said in a confident and knowing tone. This made you plead for him to tell you what he had noticed. "I'm not going to tell you what they are!" Merry smirked visibly amused. "Where's the fun in that?"

"If I have a tell, I will have you tell me what it is!" you said in a commanding tone, horrified of this revelation.

"I think not!" Merry exclaimed, his tone mischevous. "You just have to wonder about it for the rest of your life!" he laughed, and then in a mocking, high pitched voice, imitating you, he said: "Oh no! How did Meriadoc know I was exceptionally happy today? How did he notice I was nervous? Whatever will I do? How will I ever figure it out?"

"You jerk!" you laughed, elbowing his side gently, making him stumble a little to the left. It made him want to continue teasing you, still mocking you.

"Oh, how will I ever know? Merry is such a master at reading people!" he continued, making you crack up a little. You gave him a gentle push. You then suddenly bumped into Pippin, who was standing there, waiting for you.

"What took you so long?" Pippin asked.

"You were practically running!" Merry responded, still a wide smile on his face from teasing you. He gestured towards you and smirked. "And as I can tell from her expression, her old age has caught up to her, and her body gave up, forcing us both to slow down."

"Excuse me?" you said as your jaw dropped. "I am younger than you, Merry! I will have you know, if someone has any problems with their old age, it's you, Mister Brandybuck! Now, you old prune, what are my tells? Tell me!"

"My dear friend," Merry said, putting his hands on your shoulder. "I absolutely will not tell you."

"What are you two on about?" Pippin asked confused. Merry just chuckled, and gestured you both to follow him to a shallow part of the river, so you could safely sit with them without going too deep. You scrunched your nose at Merry, and walked behind him and Pippin to the water.

You had sat on a large rock, smoothed down by the flowing water, making it sparkle under the rays of sunshine. Every now and then some water ran over the rock, drenching your dress from the parts that were laid on the almost black stone. Twenty minutes had passed, and Merry gestured you to come closer to the slightly deeper water. You shook your head, fidgeting the sleeve of your dress anxiously. The water had finally washed away the jam from Pippin's lips as he kept plunging into the water, diving for what seemed like a forever. Pippin's head ascended from the cool water and he shook his head like a wet dog, trying to dry his curls.

"Come on, it's just waist deep!" Pippin tried to pursuade you. You just shook your head again. Pippin locked his eyes with Merry's. They both nodded in unison, turning to look at you again. "I bet you a small pouch of Southern Star that you don't have the courage."

Your ears perked up at the mention of pipe-weed. It was a delicious offer, but just the thought of going in any deeper made your heart pound faster. Pippin and Merry also knew just how to press your buttons right; they knew how competetive you were. "How much are we talking?" you inquired, your ears doing one small wiggle as your body started to show signs of peaked interest. This made Pippin and Merry chuckle.

"Does it matter? You don't have the guts!" Merry cried with a wide grin on his face. This made your fingers stop fidgeting the dress, and instead your fingertips squeezed the fabric tightly. You stood up, careful not to slip on the wet rock, and tipped your toes in the water, moving them on the surface lightly. You gave a challenging look to both mischevous hobbits, and hopped in the water, ankle deep. You took one deep breath, inhaling the warm air to help calm you down. One step after another, you slowly waded towards Merry and Pippin, who looked rather amused and impressed. The water rose as you waded in deeper and as the cold water touched your hips, you froze still.

It felt like the world stopped for a moment, and the surrounding noises of the river flowing suddenly sounded like an ominous threat coming closer and closer, about to swallow you whole. The bottom of the river was muddy and it felt like you would slowly sink, inch by inch, until you would be under water, unable to escape. The water felt like it tried to push you down, make you stumble and fall. It would laugh at your struggles to try and stay on the surface, making you regret ever taking even one step towards your best friends. How foolish of you to take up on a challenge, knowing the water was your enemy, who would smother you the first chance it got.

Suddenly you felt Merry's hand on your arm, shaking you softly. All you could hear was mumbling. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry, as you tried with all of your strength to not collapse from fear of facing the same destiny as your parents. Your feet lifted from the mud as Merry and Pippin lifted you by your armpits and waist to get you off to the dry land immediately, taking notice of your looming anxiety and inability to move even an inch.

What felt like forever, you soon got back to dry land and your hands gripped to the grass like it was the only thing that would keep you from falling into the flowing river. Your vision still blurry, you could distinguish the familiar voices of Merry and Pippin, but not one word was coherent. The grass felt safe and warm, pieces of dirt clinging to your wet palms and feet. You were starting to shake a little, still not able to move.

Soon you felt a warm palm on your cheek, turning your gaze to the direction of it's owner. Merry caught your attention enough to lock your eyes on his. His blue eyes felt comforting as they looked at you with compassion and care. You could see his lips moving, but not one word made sense to you. He gently brushed your cheek with his thumb, looking guilty from pressuring you.

"You're okay," you could finally decipher some of his words. Your brain felt fuzzy, and your lips were quivering with fear and anxiety. "You're safe, just breathe."

You took a deep breath, slow and steady, trying to push away the panic attack that was taking over your body. You followed Merry's guidance as much as you could make sense of it, slowly starting to feel more air in your lungs. The grass started to feel like grass again, instead of an anchor you had to hold on to, unless you wanted to drown. You felt Pippin's palm gently rubbing your back, as Merry was still caressing your cheek, guiding your every breath. You could slowly focus more, but you kept your gaze on his blue eyes, scared that if you turned your face away, the water would somehow jump on you and try to pull you back. It took you several minutes, but finally the two managed to calm you down. Your body still trembling lightly, you took one more deep breath.

"Well that was embarrassing," you jested, trying to lighten the mood immediately. Merry chuckled with relief and shook his head, lowering his hand to your shoulder from your face. Pippin didn't laugh, but instead made his way in front of your face next to Merry.

"Are you okay?" he asked nervously, clearly feeling some guilt for the second time that day. You nodded, looking at him reassuringly. Pippin's lips curled into a small smile. "Good, I thought you might feel embarrassed." You laughed loudly, voice slightly shaky.

They both got up on their feet, clothes drenched and every curl on their head dripping with water. You slowly got up, taking some support from the two hobbits and straightening your back. After a small discussion, you all agreed it was time to go home and calm down a little. Pippin did promise you that he would still give you some pipe-weed as a 'consolation prize.'

You made your way home alone for most of the journey, as Merry headed towards his home in Buckland and Pippin made his way to, in his own words, 'somewhere secret.'

The green round door of Bag End was there waiting for you, immediately providing you comfort at the sight. You entered your home and called your brother by his name. He was not your brother by blood, but being adopted to the same household and growing up together most of your lives made him as much of a brother as someone who was a blood relative would.

"Hello?" you shouted, the hallway echoing, seeming empty. You took just a few steps before Frodo's head popped up from behind a wall. He gave you a soft smile and let you know there was tea at the ready in the kitchen. Frodo had made it for himself, but so much of it was left that he decided to just let it sit there, knowing how much you liked his chamomille tea.

You made your way into the kitchen and poured some still warm tea into a small cup you inherited from your parents. It was decorated with yellow flowers and had been hand painted by your great-grandmother. You stirred it calmly, looking out of the round window, admiring the green grass and the butterflies flying around, enjoying the spring as much as any being would. The small silver spoon your uncle Bilbo had given you as a birthday present (that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins kept trying to steal) was softly moving in circles, creating music-like sounds when it hit the porcelain on the edges. Your dress had mostly dried up on your way home, but it was still slightly moist, making you do a small squirm as the slightly wet fabric of it kept clinging to your thigh.

With the tea in your hand, you started making your way to your room, but something stopped you in your tracks. As you passed a small round mirror, you noticed something behind your ear that was not supposed to be there. A small daisy was decorating your frame on the left side of your face. You touched the soft flower lightly. Merry had put it there while calming you down. A small chuckle escaped your throat. He really knew how to cheer you up, even if it took some time to notice the gesture.

Next chapter

#lotr #please do not judge me i feel very proud but i am scared its shite LMAO #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #tolkien #merry brandybuck #pippin took #peregrin took #Meriadoc Brandybuck #merry x reader #lotr fanfic #Merry Brandybuck fanfic #jrrt #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #lotr merry

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