#so dumb. i think I just want to try on a wedding dress and have a nice ring but even then | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foreveia · 4 months ago

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take two ⤨ iwaizumi hajime

⨭ genre; fluff, idiots to lovers but like they're actually so dumb

⨭ pairing; iwaizumi x fem!reader

⨭ word count; 5.7k

⨭ descriptions; your boss has been trying to set you up with her son for months, but as it turns out at the holiday party... you've already met him before.

⨭ warnings; explicit language and dialogue, no graphic content tho, alcohol

⨭ a/n; fun little short fic to fill the fix to publish something lolol enjoy this iwa love dump as i work on my next long fic (tell me in the comments if y'all like these better)

song i listened to writing this: 'hold your breath' by chase atlantic

one.

There are exactly three things you know to be true about Iwaizumi Emi:

She is the best divorce attorney in Tohoku, possibly the country.

She is the kind of woman who could negotiate her way out of murder charges and secure the victim’s house in the settlement.

She is, without a doubt, trying to set you up with her son.

You respect her. You admire her. You are, on occasion, lowkey terrified of her.

Which is why you’re currently sitting at your desk, nodding at all the appropriate intervals while she breezes through yet another pitch about why her son and you are, in her professional opinion, a perfect match.

“He’s back from Irvine for the summer,” she says, skimming a property settlement document like it personally offended her. She tosses it onto your pile nonchalantly, and you let out a short sigh because it’s just more backend filing to do and, despite your adoration for your career path and real passion towards legal work, entry jobs in the firm are mostly busy work. “I really think you’ll like him. He’s—”

You tune out. Not in an obvious way, of course—no, you’re a professional. You sprinkle in the occasional mmhmm and sounds great so she doesn’t catch on, but this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve heard this pitch before—multiple times. Hajime is intelligent, responsible, not an idiot like some of these men out here, blah blah blah.

It’s not that you have anything against him, really. It’s just that you’ve spent months perfecting the art of dodging your boss’s matchmaking attempts, and frankly, you don’t have the energy to entertain her latest scheme.

“You’re finally going to meet him at the firm’s ball this weekend,” Emi continues, finally looking up from her paperwork, her smile entirely too satisfied.

You blink. “Oh.”

“He’s excited to meet you too.”

Now that is new. Usually, these monologues are strictly one-sided—I told him about you! and You two will get along so well! But he’s excited to meet you too? That’s an escalation. That’s a game-changer. That means he knows about you. He has an opinion about you.

You resist the urge to groan. Instead, you summon a polite, professional smile—the same one you use when dealing with particularly insufferable clients. “Looking forward to it,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the woman who could single-handedly end your career if she wanted to?

In reality, the only thing you’re looking forward to about the ball is the open bar. Being in your early twenties means being woefully broke, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of unlimited free alcohol wasn’t a strong motivator.

So, you strike a deal with yourself: you’ll put on a fancy dress, endure painful heels, and let Emi parade you in front of her son like a prize show poodle—all in exchange for an endless supply of pinot noir, cocktail shrimp, and, if you play your cards right, an entire bottle of champagne to sneak home in your purse.

It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.

two.

Because you’re an adult with an absolutely thriving social life (read: you have two friends who are willing to tolerate your bullshit after 6 PM), you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are now seated at your favorite little izakaya, wedged into a corner booth with plates of karaage and a pitcher of beer between you.

Kiyoko is talking about wedding venues. Because she’s engaged. To Tanaka. Which is objectively insane because in your head, they’re still in that “grossly obsessed with each other but pretending they’re just friends” phase, even though they’ve been together for years. The whole thing is a crime against single people everywhere, but you are supportive because your already jaw-dropping friend is somehow glowing even brighter now that she has a fat rock on her ring finger. She looks lighter, happier. She deserves it.

Yachi, meanwhile, is explaining—between delicate sips of her beer—that she’s too swamped with work to even think about dating. Which, yeah. Fair. The woman works harder than most people you know, so you respect it.

Then, as the conversation naturally shifts to your love life (as it always does, because you’re the group’s designated mess), you sigh, sinking into your seat dramatically.

“I haven’t had sex in months.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoko and Yachi both roll their eyes in unison, like they rehearsed it.

“Oh my God,” Yachi mutters.

“You cannot still be caught up on GDD,” Kiyoko says flatly, pouring herself another drink.

“Okay, first of all,” you say, holding up a finger, “it is not about him. It’s just a general fact about my current state of being.”

“Uh-huh,” Kiyoko hums, entirely unconvinced.

“Second of all,” you continue, undeterred, “GDD was life-changing, and I feel like I should be allowed to mourn the lack of that level of—of excellence in my life.”

“Life-changing,” Yachi repeats, deadpan. “You hooked up with him once.”

“Yeah, and my life was changed.”

GDD—Good Dick Dude, as he has been dubbed by your dear, unsupportive friends—was a guy you hooked up with in January after a truly legendary New Year’s Eve party.

The night itself had been pure chaos. Hinata had somehow scored an invite to this insane rooftop party—one of those bougie, exclusive, if-you-know-you-know events where you absolutely do not belong but somehow manage to fake it enough to get through the door. He’d gotten a few plus-ones, which is how you ended up there, sipping champagne you definitely couldn’t afford and making out with a guy who, to this day, remains one of the most mind-blowing hookups of your entire life.

Gorgeous, buff, and dangerous with his hands. The kind of guy who knew exactly what he was doing, which, honestly? A rarity these days. You barely remember his name—something short, easy to moan—but you do remember his stupidly perfect smirk and the way he all but ruined you against the nearest flat surface.

But then the party ended, the night faded into a haze, and you never saw him again.

Which is fine. It’s fine. Really.

You’re definitely not still thinking about it.

Kiyoko takes a sip of her beer, unimpressed. “You’ve been on, what? Five Hinge dates since then? Six?”

“Seven,” Yachi corrects.

You point at her. “Exactly.”

Kiyoko gives you a long, slow blink.

“I mean that as proof that I am not hung up on him!” you clarify. “I’ve been trying, okay? But the bar is in hell. Do you know how many ‘we should get drinks’ texts I get from guys who put crypto investor in their bios?”

Kiyoko sighs. “Okay, but let’s be real—are you actually giving any of these guys a chance?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Frown. “I mean… like… conceptually?”

“Right.”

Yachi, forever gentle but devastatingly perceptive, tilts her head at you. “Is it possible,” she says carefully, “that maybe none of these guys are measuring up because you’re subconsciously comparing them to him?”

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

Is it ridiculous?

Because, okay, maybe—just maybe—no one has quite lived up to that night. And maybe you’re being a little unfair to the dating pool by expecting every single guy to have that same kind of chemistry with you. And maybe you do occasionally find yourself staring at random ceilings, wondering where GDD is now and if he even remembers you.

But still. That doesn’t mean anything.

You’re pretty sure.

“I hate you guys,” you grumble, stabbing aggressively at a piece of karaage.

Yachi pats your hand sympathetically. “We know.”

Kiyoko, ever the queen of smooth topic transitions, nudges the conversation in a new direction. “Speaking of your questionable taste in men, your boss is still trying to set you up with her son, correct?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the booth. “Unfortunately, yes. And now, apparently, he’s excited to meet me.”

Yachi perks up. “Wait, so you are meeting him?”

“At the firm’s ball this weekend,” you say, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get a little wine drunk, take advantage of the seafood bar.”

Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to entertain the idea of this Hajime guy at all?”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

Yachi hums, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s about to say something devastatingly reasonable. “I mean… what if Emi’s right?”

You blink. “What?”

“What if this is it?” she says, half-teasing, half-genuinely curious. “Like, what if you meet him and he’s actually your soulmate? Imagine if this whole time, your boss has been playing the long game, orchestrating your love story like some kind of corporate fairy godmother.”

You snort. Loudly. “Right. Because that’s totally my luck.”

Kiyoko and Yachi exchange a knowing look, but they let it go.

You take another sip of your beer, shaking your head. Hajime Iwaizumi—whoever he is—is not the love of your life.

That would be insane.

three.

You had to pull out your graduate school formal gown from the back of your closet for this, but wow, you really forgot just how good you look in red.

Your day-to-day work attire consists of pantsuits and button-ups, neatly tucked into cautiously ironed trousers, so you’ve honestly forgotten how nice it is to get dressed up once in a while. There’s something about slipping into a gown that fits like a dream, sweeping your hair up just right, and swiping on that perfect shade of lipstick that makes you feel invincible. Like you could negotiate a million-dollar deal, steal the firm’s best clients, and seduce someone’s husband all in the same breath.

Not that you would, obviously.

Probably.

The venue is ridiculous in the way all law firm events are ridiculous—held in a ballroom large enough to house a small country, chandeliers dripping in gold, servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne and fancy bruschetta topped with fucking caviar of all things. All this just to celebrate another year of making money off people’s divorces. Incredible the way capitalism works.

You’ve barely made it through your first glass of wine before Emi finds you.

“There she is,” she croons, linking her arm through yours. She looks positively radiant in an emerald gown, diamonds at her ears, and the kind of effortless elegance that comes from winning. You’d respect it more if she weren’t actively dragging you toward your inevitable doom. “Come on, sweetheart. Hajime’s here, and I cannot wait for you two to finally meet.”

You bite back a sigh, because of course. No warm-up period, no buffer—just straight to the matchmaking. “Can’t I get a few more drinks in me first?”

She waves a hand, utterly dismissing your complaints. “You’ll like him. I know you will.”

You doubt it. But you let her lead you anyway, mostly because you know resisting is pointless: your boss has the world’s most spell-blinding smile and enough charm to always get her way. Emi always wins.

She stops near the bar, where a man stands with his back to you, broad shoulders wrapped in a sharp black suit, one hand resting on the counter as he talks with someone just out of view.

Emi squeezes your hand. “Hajime,” she calls, her voice warm.

The man turns.

And every thought in your head immediately ceases to exist.

Because standing before you, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit and sipping from a glass of whiskey like he isn’t single-handedly ruining your life, is GDD.

Good Dick Dude.

Hajime Iwaizumi is Good Dick Dude.

Your brain short-circuits. This is not happening. This is some kind of fever dream, a cruel trick played by the universe to punish you for your sins.

Hajime’s sharp green eyes land on you, recognition flickering behind them, and then—oh no.

He smirks. Like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind right now. Like he remembers everything.

Emi, completely unaware of your crisis, beams. “Hajime, this is the associate I’ve been telling you about.”

His mischievous, more than just amused smile widens. “Oh, I know who she is.”

Your soul leaves your body.

Because that voice? That voice is the same one that had whispered filth against your neck four months ago. The same voice that had laughed when you moaned his name. The same voice that had ruined you in ways you still haven’t fully recovered from.

You are going to die. Right here, right now, in the middle of this godforsaken gala.

“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he says smoothly, offering a hand. His palm is rough when you take it—calloused, strong, a stark reminder of exactly where those hands have been. His grip is firm, steady, and entirely too knowing.

You swallow, pasting on the best Oh wow, I am totally not spiraling internally smile you can manage. “Yeah,” you say weakly. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Emi beams, clasping her hands together like she’s just delighted by this new revelation. “That’s wonderful! I knew you two would get along.”

You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a strangled choke. Hajime is still watching you, head tilted slightly, like he’s enjoying this: like he can see the exact moment you realize how deeply, horrifically screwed you are. Because there is no way Emi knows. She’s too composed, too pleased. If she had any inkling that her son and her associate had met four months ago in a completely inappropriate context, she’d have you both buried in litigation faster than you could say conflict of interest.

Which means Hajime is choosing to be a menace.

God, you’re going to kill him.

“Hajime just got back from Irvine a few days ago, for the start of his summer break,” Emi continues, completely oblivious to the absolute war waging behind your polite smile. “I’ve been telling him all about you, of course.”

You almost choke on your drink. “You have?”

“Of course I have!” Emi nods enthusiastically. “She’s one of the brightest associates we have, Hajime. Sharp, diligent, absolutely ruthless in negotiations—she reminds me of myself when I was her age.”

Your lips twitch. You do enjoy being compared to the most terrifying woman you’ve ever met, so it’s really too bad that this entire situation has you currently dying inside.

Hajime hums, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah,” he says, voice dipping just slightly. “She’s definitely memorable.”

Your entire body lights on fire.

Memorable.

Oh, he’s being insufferable on purpose.

Emi sighs happily, taking a sip of her champagne. “I knew you two would hit it off.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your drink in Hajime’s face. You want to rewind time and never step foot into that rooftop party.

Instead, you just smile tightly. “Mm-hmm.”

Hajime grins at your suffering. “So,” he says, tilting his glass in your direction, “how have you been?”

You resist the urge to kick him in the shins. “Busy,” you say, voice clipped. “Working.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that does sound like you.”

You stiffen. Hajime, you realize, is having the time of his life watching you squirm. And it’s only going to get worse.

Because Emi suddenly claps her hands together, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh! I should leave you two to chat,” she says. “Get to know each other properly.”

Oh. Oh no. Emi. Emi, please.

But before you can protest, she winks at you—winks, like she’s a fairy godmother orchestrating the perfect romance—and disappears back into the crowd.

And just like that, you are alone with him.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So,” he says, smirking, “I see you haven’t forgotten me.”

Your jaw clenches. “You smug little—”

“You look good,” he interrupts smoothly, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers, appreciative but blatantly teasing. “Red suits you.”

God, you want to strangle him. You cross your arms, willing yourself to stay calm. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

He chuckles. “I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

He tilts his head, as if contemplating. “Well,” he says, “it wasn’t confirmed until I saw you.”

You glare. “You could’ve warned me.”

“And miss that reaction?” He grins. “Not a chance.”

You hate him. You hate that he looks so effortlessly good in a suit. You hate that his voice is still just as devastating as you remember. You hate that even now, months later, you can still feel the phantom weight of his hands on your hips, the rough scrape of his callouses against your skin, the way he had murmured just like that, baby against your ear—

You inhale sharply. Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about that right now.

Hajime, unfortunately, definitely knows what you’re thinking about. His smirk is downright criminal. “So,” he says, leaning in slightly, voice low, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

You refuse to give him the satisfaction of blushing. “Oh, shut up.”

He laughs, warm and amused, and you are horribly aware that this night is only just beginning.

four.

Hajime happens to actually be a pretty intelligent and funny person, which is making it much, much harder to dodge his attempts at flirting and his mother’s attempts at forced-proximity matchmaking.

It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to sip your wine, endure some polite small talk, and then fade into the crowd before Emi could corner you into any serious you’d make such a beautiful couple talk. But instead, you’re somehow still here, talking to him, because Hajime Iwaizumi is annoyingly easy to talk to.

Which is not fair. It’s not fair at all, actually.

He makes it look effortless, like this isn’t completely unhinged, like it’s not absolutely deranged that your boss has spent months trying to set you up with a man who has already—

You take a sip of your wine. You are not going to finish that thought.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, looking entirely too entertained by this whole situation. “You seem tense.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Hey, could be worse,” he says. “At least my mom has good taste.”

You choke on your sip, feeling the bubbles tingle in your nose and really regretting every life decision you’ve made in the last six months. “Oh, my God.”

He laughs, tilting his glass in a mock toast.

You squint at him, wary and slightly annoyed, unable to fathom how he’s not also dying at this situation. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, all easy amusement. “I’m just saying—this could be a lot worse. Imagine if she was trying to set you up with someone actually terrible.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, swirling your wine. “You’re already pretty high on my list of worst-case scenarios.”

“See, now that hurts.”

You roll your eyes. “You’ll live.”

Before Hajime can respond—before you can regain any sense of control over this conversation—Emi appears out of nowhere, her eyes shining.

“There you two are!” she says, absolutely beaming. “It’s time for the first dance!”

You freeze.

Hajime—the absolute traitor—just raises an eyebrow. “First dance?”

“Yes! It’s tradition,” Emi says, already ushering you toward the ballroom floor. “Senior partners and their dates open the dance floor—it’s been that way for years.”

You dig your heels into the floor. “But I’m not—”

“Now, sweetheart,” Emi interrupts, entirely ignoring your panic, “you wouldn’t want to break tradition, would you?”

You stare at her, betrayed.

She smiles.

Oh, she planned this.

Hajime, standing beside you, lets out a quiet, amused sigh before draining the last of his whiskey. “Well,” he says, offering you a hand, “guess we should give the people what they want.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s why you’re still holding my hand.”

You drop it immediately.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from leading you on to the dance floor. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently to the center of the ballroom; you’re struggling to ignore the far too many pairs of eyes on you two as he rearranges your arms around his neck.

And—oh, hell.

You forgot how solid he is.

His grip is firm but steady, his palm warm where it rests against your back. He moves easily, like this isn’t completely ridiculous, like your brain isn’t currently melting out of your ears.

“Relax,” Hajime murmurs.

You scowl. “I am relaxed.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, totally.”

You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you—amused, interested, entirely too smug for someone who has already ruined your life once.

He leads you into a slow, easy step, and goddamn it, of course he’s good at this, too. His movements are effortless, confident. He keeps the rhythm perfectly, and you hate that you match him so well.

He tilts his head, watching you. “You’re thinking really hard about something.”

“No, I’m not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Right. So you’re definitely not thinking about how good I am at this.”

You promptly step on his foot. He laughs, and it ignites your hatefire even more.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“I was going to say you look good tonight,” he muses, unfazed. “But now I don’t know if you deserve the compliment.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Hajime smirks. “Touchy.”

He spins you as the music hits a crescendo, dropping you abruptly into a dip that catches you heavily off-guard. It makes you lock your fingers tighter around his neck, and when he lifts you back up, you nearly slam right into his very, very firm chest (what the hell, is this man made entirely of protein?), face first.

“What the fuck?” you huff, a little winded. “You are actually a horrible human being.”

Hajime hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering with something too smug, too entertained. “You keep saying that,” he muses, voice low enough that it barely carries past the space between you, “but I think you just like having someone to complain about.”

Before you can deliver a scathing reply, he tugs you a fraction closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but you feel it—the shift of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, the way your body slots against his just enough for warmth to pass between you.

Your breath catches, and it’s infuriating how he notices. How his hold tightens, like he can read every single thought running through your head and is thrilled by it.

“You’re such a dick,” you frown, shifting slightly, trying to put some space between you.

Hajime chuckles, and the sound is entirely too satisfied. His mouth is right by your ear, so you practically feel it more than you really hear it, when he murmurs, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because that—that—is not fair.

That is the kind of thing a man should not be allowed to say in that voice, in that low, teasing rumble, into your ear, while holding you against him like this.

It happens before you can even think about it.

Before you can register that you are, in fact, in the middle of a ballroom at your company’s annual gala. Before you can process the reality that Emi is somewhere in this crowd, and she has already been insufferable about this whole ordeal.

Before any of that can hit you, you grab the lapels of his stupidly well-fitted suit, tilt your chin up, and kiss him.

It’s instant, sharp, devastating. Your hands tighten against his chest as you crash into him, and Hajime—because he is the worst person alive—immediately reacts.

One hand presses firm into your back, the other finding its way to your jaw, fingers curling just slightly as he deepens the kiss without hesitation. His lips are warm, just the right mix of soft and steady, and when he angles his head just so—his nose brushing against yours, his thumb skimming your cheek—you feel yourself sink, like he’s pulling you under and you don’t even mind drowning.

It should not be this good.

It should not set your pulse racing like this, make you forget for a single, damning second that this is the worst possible thing you could be doing right now.

But it does. And for just a moment, nothing else exists. Not the party. Not the music. Not the fact that literally everyone is watching you right now. Just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his fingers at your back, the way he exhales sharply like he wasn’t expecting this either, but he’s not about to stop it, not for anything in the world.

And then you remember where you are.

You rip yourself away, blinking rapidly, your brain racing to catch up with what you just did.

And that is the moment you hear it: the loudest, most delighted squeal of your entire existence.

Your stomach plummets.

Because standing at the edge of the ballroom, her hands clasped together in sheer glee, is none other than Emi Iwaizumi herself. And she is positively vibrating with joy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she gushes, and the way she looks at you is the exact way someone would look at their child who just announced they were getting married. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect together!”

Your soul leaves your body. You stare at her, horrified. You slowly turn back to Hajime—who, because he is an absolute menace, is still standing entirely too close, still holding you just slightly like he isn’t ready to let go.

And he is smiling.

The kind of smile that says I win. The kind of smile that says he is absolutely going to remind you of this for the rest of your natural life.

You physically have to stop yourself from shoving him away.

Instead, you inhale, sharp and deep, and will yourself to stay calm. Emi is still talking. She is still gushing. And you cannot deal with whatever she’s about to say next, so before she can so much as breathe, you turn back to Hajime, seize his wrist, and drag him off the dance floor, because if you don’t get away from this immediately, you are actually going to die of secondhand embarrassment and shame.

five.

This is because of your dry spell.

Your dry spell is the reason why your entire sense of self-control and awareness have gone out the window, and the reason why, now that you and Hajime have successfully escaped the ballroom onto the balcony, he is doubled over laughing and you are actually freaking out.

“Jesus fuck,” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the absolute catastrophe unfolding inside your brain. “I kissed you. I kissed you in front of everyone.”

Hajime straightens, still grinning like an asshole. “Yeah,” he says, entirely too pleased. “You did.”

You drop your hands, glaring. “Fuck you, dude. You’re not helping.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t aware I needed to.”

You let out an incoherent noise of distress.

Hajime, because he is insufferable, just leans against the balcony railing, watching you unravel like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all night. His tie is slightly loosened now, his jacket unbuttoned, and somehow, he looks even better like this—a little rumpled, a little amused, looking at you like he already knows how this is going to end.

That is actually unacceptable.

“This is your fault,” you snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You goaded me into it.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I made you kiss me?”

“Yes,” you declare, with full conviction, even though you definitely grabbed him first. “You set me up.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You really can’t handle taking the L, huh?”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “I just don’t want to.”

His lips twitch like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again. “So you kissed me against your will?”

“Yes.”

Hajime tilts his head, amused. “Interesting. Because you seemed pretty into it.”

Your jaw drops. “I—you—shut up.”

He chuckles, and God, his voice is all warm and low and pleased with himself, and you really need to get it together before you do something stupid again.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and shifting your focus to the city skyline instead. Sendai stretches out before you in a sea of golden lights, a stark contrast to the absolute nightmare happening in your head.

This is fine. You can recover from this. You just have to never, ever acknowledge it again.

You square your shoulders, turning back to him. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to go back inside, pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives.”

Hajime hums, considering. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

You squint. “What do you mean that’s not gonna work?”

He pushes off the railing, taking a step closer—too close, enough that you feel it again, that ridiculous, stupid warmth that shouldn’t still be there after all this time. “I mean,” he says, slow, deliberate, “you’re acting like that kiss was a mistake.”

You blink. “Because it was.”

He lifts a single eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive, and Hajime knows it.

He grins. You decide that you hate him.

“I’m sure,” you insist, crossing your arms tighter, like that will somehow make this whole situation less insufferable. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A lapse in judgment. That’s it.”

Hajime tilts his head, thoughtful. “Okay. So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn’t like it.”

Your entire brain short-circuits. The audacity. The unbelievable nerve.

You gape at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His grin widens. “Wouldn’t I?”

You hate how smug he looks. You hate that your stomach flips at the idea of it. You hate that you don’t immediately shut it down.

He watches your expression carefully, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, like he won’t actually do it unless you give him some kind of sign. Which is so much worse, because it means he’s giving you the chance to say no, to walk away, to end this before it can spiral any further.

But you don’t.

And that—more than the kiss itself, more than Emi’s squealing, more than the public spectacle you just made—is what finally sends you into full-blown panic mode.

You do want him to kiss you again.

You stare at him, pulse thrumming, brain caught in a violent tug-of-war between denial and desire. And Hajime? Hajime is watching you with the patience of someone who knows he’s already won.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

You scowl. “Say what?”

“That you want me to kiss you again.”

Your jaw clenches. He’s baiting you, letting you choose, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You exhale sharply, tilting your chin up. “You’re so full of yourself.”

His mouth twitches. “Not an answer.”

“Fine,” you snap. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Hajime grins. “That’s all I needed.”

And then, he does.

This time, it’s slower, deeper, not rushed by the heat of the moment. He takes his time, like he’s savoring it, like he’s memorizing the way you melt into him. And you? You let him. Because, goddamn it, you were never winning this battle.

When you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks down at you. “See? Not a mistake.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead that feels far more intimate than a casual pair of friends-with-benefits should. You, scandalized, shove him away, but Hajime just grins, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your forehead, like that will somehow stop the ridiculous heat crawling up your neck.

Hajime hums, smug. “And yet, you’re still standing here.”

You are still standing here. You could have left, could have walked back into that ballroom and pretended this entire thing never happened. But instead, you’re here. On this balcony. With him.

You shift, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So… what now?”

Hajime leans back against the railing. “Dunno. Guess that depends on you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why do I feel like you already have an answer?”

“Because I do,” he says plainly, in a way so nonchalant and effortless it could only be said like that by him.

You exhale sharply, tilting your head up to the sky, like the stars might have some kind of solution for this. “You know this is gonna be a thing now, right?”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “A thing?”

“Yeah,” you say, making a vague gesture between the two of you. “A thing. Emi’s gonna lose her mind. She’s probably already telling the senior partners that her matchmaking career is a success.”

Hajime laughs, the sound easy, effortless. “Yeah. She probably is.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “I am never going to live this down.”

“Probably not.”

You squint at him. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”

Hajime shrugs, then reaches for your hand, tugging you forward so suddenly that you nearly stumble into him. His hands slide down to your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress. “I could,” he murmurs, close, too close, “but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”

You scowl. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, smug, “you still kissed me. Twice, actually.”

You glare. “Stop counting.”

“No promises.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to his chest in sheer exasperation. “This is my villain origin story.”

Hajime just laughs, wrapping his arms fully around you, and you hate—hate—that it feels nice, that it feels right.

“Hajime,” you say, voice muffled against his suit jacket.

“Yeah?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze. “If we’re doing this, you are legally required to make it up to me with at least two fancy dates. Minimum.”

Hajime smirks, like he was already planning on it. “Deal.”

“And no getting too smug about this, either,” you squint.

He tilts his head. “Define ‘too smug.’”

You groan, shoving at his chest. “God, I hate you.”

Hajime just catches your wrist and grins, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sure you do.”

You really don’t. And both of you know that very well, because he has his mother’s spell-blinding smile and you have always been a sucker for them both.

⨭ closing; churned this out over one 3 hour writing sesh bc i got this idea in my head and had to see it through. not proofread and very very hastily written, but i like her anyway. #comment #reblog #lemme know ur thoughts mwah xoxo

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formulaonecrumbs · 26 days ago

Text

just wish i was older

Lando Norris x babysitter!reader

summary: lando has a crush on his babysitter.

warnings: age gap? not really tho. it’s 3 years. lando pining for a girl he can’t have.

A/N: idk if this is weird. cuz reading it back i think it might be 😭😭 did reader groom him? no but why does it feel it. i’m going crazy also a gif this time cause i have a thing for rookie lando :]

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

age 12 & 15

lando had crossed his arms and sat sulking on the living room couch like the world had personally offended him.

his hair was still a little messy from the argument with his mum earlier, and his tie—he’d refused to take it off—was hanging half-untied around his neck like a silent protest.

you smiled as you closed the front door behind you. “you look like a grumpy little businessman.”

lando glared at you. “i’m not little.”

“right,” you teased, dropping your bag on the floor. “you’re a very mature twelve-year-old who threw a tantrum because he didn’t want to go to a wedding.”

his cheeks flushed slightly. “i didn’t throw a tantrum.”

“you did,” you grinned, walking past him into the kitchen. “your mum told me. said you nearly cried when she made you put on the dress shoes.”

“they pinch,” he muttered, following you like a shadow.

you pulled open the fridge. “alright, rebel. what are we eating tonight?”

lando leaned on the counter, watching you. “can we have those frozen pizzas?”

“already trying to sweet-talk me into junk food, huh?” you raised an eyebrow. “what happened to please and thank you?”

he rolled his eyes dramatically. “pleeease.”

you tossed him a frozen pizza box. “get the oven started, mr. businessman.”

he smiled, and you caught the way his shoulders relaxed a little.

later that evening, after pizza and a movie he picked (some racing documentary, no surprise there), the two of you sat on the floor of the living room, surrounded by empty snack wrappers.

“you’re not like other babysitters,” lando said suddenly, his voice quiet.

you looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “yeah? how so?”

he shrugged, tugging at a loose thread in the carpet. “you talk to me like… normal. not like i’m a dumb kid.”

you softened. “you’re not a dumb kid, lando.”

he didn’t say anything for a second. then, almost too softly to hear, “i like it when you come over.”

you smiled. “i like it too. you’re good company, even when you’re being a grump.”

he smiled, just barely. “you’re nice.”

“so are you.”

he looked away quickly, cheeks pink again.

by the time his parents got home, lando was half-asleep on the couch, his head tipped against your shoulder.

you’d left the lights low and the tv still playing quietly in the background, the empty pizza box folded neatly on the table.

his mum smiled when she walked in. “looks like he survived without us.”

you nodded, brushing his curls back gently from his face. “barely.”

lando blinked sleepily, mumbling something about not being tired, but he didn’t move from your side.

and as you got up to leave, promising to see him again soon, he looked up at you with those tired eyes and whispered, “you’ll still come even when i’m older, right?”

you smiled, ruffling his hair. “if you want me to.”

he nodded once, like that answer settled something big in his heart.

and long after you were gone, he stayed sitting on the couch, tie still loose, wondering how long it’d take to be old enough for someone like you to really notice him.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

age 15 & 18

lando hadn’t needed a babysitter in over a year.

or so he said.

but when his parents had to go out last-minute and asked you to drop by—“just in case, he won’t admit he wants the company, but you know how he is”—you’d agreed without hesitation.

he opened the door like he hadn’t been pacing behind it for the past ten minutes.

“you didn’t have to come,” he said, voice deeper now, posture more guarded. “i’m not twelve.”

“good thing,” you said, stepping inside with a smile. “because you were so annoying at twelve.”

he cracked a smile despite himself. “rude.”

you looked around the house. it was cleaner than usual. like maybe he’d tried to make it look like he had it together. “so what’s the plan? you gonna ignore me the whole time, pretend i’m not here?”

“nah,” he shrugged. “you can stay if you want.”

“lucky me.”

you ended up sitting in the kitchen while he made tea—something he insisted on doing himself, like he had something to prove.

“you’re in uni now, right?” he asked, carefully pouring boiling water into mugs. “like properly moved out and everything?”

“yeah,” you nodded. “first year.”

“right.” he paused, fiddling with the teabag. “bet that’s nice.”

you tilted your head. “what is?”

“being around people your age,” he muttered. “grown-ups.”

you blinked. “you say that like you’re ancient.”

he didn’t laugh. just looked at you, eyes a little more serious than usual. “you used to treat me like a kid.”

“you were a kid.”

“and now?”

you held his gaze for a second before giving a small smile. “still kinda a kid.”

he looked away, jaw tightening. “figured.”

later, while a show played quietly in the background, he sat on the other end of the couch, leg bouncing, fingers tapping against his knee.

you glanced over. “lando?”

he didn’t look at you. “do you ever think about how weird it is that i’ve known you half my life?”

“not weird,” you said gently. “just… kind of sweet.”

he scoffed, but it didn’t sound mean. “you used to tie my shoes. now you’re off dating guys with cars and jobs and… real lives.”

“you jealous?”

he looked at you then. properly. “you know i am.”

the silence stretched, soft and full of something unspoken.

you reached over, nudging his arm. “i promise i’m not going to disappear, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

his expression cracked for a second—just long enough to see the boy underneath, the one who used to cling to you like a shadow.

“i’m not,” he muttered. “just wish i was older.”

you smiled, eyes kind. “one day, you will be. and you’re gonna be someone really great.”

he didn’t answer. just nodded, lips pressed into a thin line, fighting a war between wanting to be grown and knowing he’s still got time to go.

and when he walked you to the door that night—holding it open like a gentleman, pretending not to watch you as you left—he didn’t say goodbye.

just: “thanks for coming.”

and in his chest, a soft ache that had nothing to do with being young…

and everything to do with how much he wished he wasn’t.

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

age 16 & 19

you weren’t supposed to be back.

you were home from uni for a weekend, barely enough time to breathe—let alone babysit—but when mrs. norris called in a panic asking if you could check in on lando “just for a couple hours while we’re out”, you didn’t even think twice.

you hadn’t seen him in nearly a year.

he opened the door and for a second, you didn’t recognize him.

he was a little taller now. voice deeper. shoulders broader.

but the look in his eyes—that familiar flash of something warm and too intense—was exactly the same.

“…hey,” he said, voice unsure.

“hey,” you echoed, stepping inside. “you got… taller.”

he smirked. “you got older.”

you rolled your eyes. “rude.”

you sat in the living room, both pretending this wasn’t weird.

“you’ve barely texted me this year,” he said suddenly, not looking at you.

“you stopped texting first,” you replied gently.

he went quiet.

“thought maybe you didn’t want to talk to me anymore,” you added, softer now.

“i did.” he leaned back into the couch. “i just… figured you were busy. with adult stuff.”

you smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “doesn’t mean i forgot about you.”

his jaw clenched. “well, i didn’t forget you either.”

he made tea again. of course he did. but this time, he brought it to you like it was a date.

he sat across from you, legs bouncing, hoodie sleeves pushed up.

“you still dating that guy?” he asked, voice low.

you shook your head. “not anymore.”

he looked up fast, too fast. “…oh.”

“why?”

you shrugged. “wasn’t right.”

he paused, chewing on his lip like he wanted to say something—something big, something too much—but instead, he just said, “he was lucky.”

you blinked. “lando…”

“i know,” he said quickly, like he could read your mind. “i know it doesn’t mean anything. just… let me say it, alright?”

you nodded.

“i like you,” he said. “i’ve liked you. for a long time.”

you stayed quiet.

“i know you’re older. i know nothing can happen. but you were the first person who really saw me. who didn’t treat me like a dumb kid.”

you swallowed. “you’re not a kid anymore.”

he laughed, but there was no humor in it. “still feels like i am to you.”

“lando—”

“it’s okay,” he said, getting up. “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted you to know. in case… i don’t know. in case you ever wondered.”

you watched him as he walked into the kitchen, shoulders tense, trying to be calm when his heart was beating out of his chest.

and you sat there, staring into your tea, knowing he was right.

it wasn’t the time.

it never could be.

THE END :>

#formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris imagines #lando norris angst #ln4 angst #ln4 mcl #ln4 x y/n #ln4 one shot #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you

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wheels-of-despair · 2 months ago

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It's Happening Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie Munson and Evil Woman are gonna walk that stage, snatch those diplomas, and have an absolutely unforgettable day. Contains: Caps and gowns, ice cream and ironed shirts, friends and family, the first day of the rest of these dummies' lives. Words: 4.2k

It's happening.

It's finally happening.

Eddie Munson is fucking graduating.

He sits on the edge of his hard metal chair, jiggling his leg on the over-polished floor of the Hawkins High gymnasium. Why is he so nervous? The worst is over. All he has to do is grab that diploma when Higgins calls his name, and he's done with this hellhole forever.

He keeps his eyes forward while Higgins drones on like Charlie Brown's teacher until the nameless, faceless blob to his right gets up to walk the stage. This is it. He's next. It's really happening.

"Edward Munson."

Eddie wipes his sweaty palms on his dumb green gown and stands.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Higgins asks from behind his podium.

Eddie panics. Unable to find his words, he points to the stage.

"Nice try, Munson," the principal sneers. "But I think we all know you'll be back here again next year. And the next. And probably the next, if you're not in jail by then. Isn't that right, kids?"

Eddie makes the mistake of looking around and seeing that all eyes are on him. The room is eerily silent until someone starts laughing, and everyone else joins in. Soon, the whole gym is roaring with cruel laughter that echoes off the walls, making his ears ring. It's physically painful. He has to get out of here. He's fucking done with this place, he doesn't care if he gets his diploma or not. Eddie Munson is DONE.

He feels a hand on his back and jerks away defensively.

"Babe?" He knows that voice. He turns to her, and immediately regrets jerking away from her gentle touch. "Come on," she urges, rubbing his shoulder.

At least he's still got his girl. His Evil Woman. The only person who's not fucking laughing at him for being so fucking stupid that he failed his senior year FOUR FUCKING TIMES. She's already got her diploma, and somehow manages to look pretty in that ugly green cap and gown. It's going to be okay. They've still got each other.

"Eddie."

He snaps out of it and reaches for her hand, wanting to get her out of this awful place before it somehow gets worse, but she snatches it out of his grasp and backs away. She's laughing too. She's fucking laughing at him for being an utter failure of a human being. It hurts so much more when it comes from her.

And then Jason Fucking Carver comes up behind her and rips the stupid green gown off of her to reveal a white dress. A wedding dress. Eddie knows that's what it is. Carver's long tongue hangs from his putrid mouth like Gene Simmons, and he licks up the side of her neck, neither of them breaking eye contact with him. She giggles. Eddie thought he was the only person who could make her do that.

The sting of betrayal makes his eyes leak. She might as well have ripped his heart out and stomped it to bits. Was she really playing him all this time? Was he just a joke to her? Did she run back to Carver after every kiss and laugh about how gross and pathetic The Freak is? How stupid he must be, to think she actually wanted him.

"Eddie!"

The other jocks close in, grabbing and pushing him. Should he just let them do it? Shove him in a locker or tie him to the flagpole or whatever torture he's been outrunning all these years? Is it even worth the effort of fighting back anymore? Should he just let them win?

"Wake up!"

Eddie sits bolt upright and opens his eyes with a gasp, sucking in the air desperately. He's not at school. Sun streams through the blinds onto posters that aren't his. Photographs are in frames instead of taped haphazardly to the walls. There are no empty beer cans or dirty clothes in sight. This isn't his bedroom. It's hers. He slowly turns his head to find his other half sitting beside him on the wrinkled sheets, wearing an oversized t-shirt with her bare legs folded beneath her. No cap and gown. No laughter. Only concern in her beautiful eyes.

How long has she been trying to wake him?

Eddie lets out a dramatic sigh and closes his eyes, drawing his knees to his chest and dropping his head on them.

He feels her scoot closer. She wraps her arms around him and rests her chin on his shoulder. She's so warm. He leans into her, smiling when he feels the familiar comfort of her braless form pressing against him. Never gets old.

"Show up to graduation naked?" she guesses.

"Higgins said I failed again," he sighs. "Everyone laughed at me. Even you. You were wearing a wedding dress. Jason Carver licked you."

"Guh-ross," she giggles, turning the word into two syllables to show her disdain. He doesn't tell her that she didn't seem to mind in the dream, because that's all it was; just a dream. She'd rip Carver to shreds if he ever even thought about touching her.

One of her hands starts to rub Eddie's back through his ancient t-shirt. He sighs happily and nuzzles into her as a comfortable silence envelops the room. He never wants to leave this bed.

"You know if Higgins tries to come between you and that diploma, I'll kill him, right?" she asks, jolting him back awake. He hadn't even realized he'd started to drift off again. "I'll kill him with my bare hands."

"Your hands are too pretty to be on that ugly bastard," Eddie smiles.

"How about with my diploma, then?"

He can hear the smile in her voice.

"Death by papercuts," he grins.

She lifts her head, and so does he. She leans in for a kiss, and Eddie meets her lips happily. Two sets of morning breath and all.

"You ready for this, baby?" she whispers, pressing her forehead against his. "The most important day of our lives?"

That's what the teachers kept calling it. Like wearing a cheap polyester gown and listening to boring speeches and getting handed a piece of paper was the most amazing thing that could ever happen to a person. Eddie Munson and his Evil Woman had laid out in her back yard one night, staring up at the stars, and named what felt like a thousand things more important than a high school graduation. He smiles at the memory. One of the more important things had been making out. A demonstration was necessary. For official purposes.

"Yeah," he breathes, raising his head and breaking the connection.

"In approximately," she pauses to glance at the clock beside her bed, "five hours, the one and only Eddie Munson will have walked that stage, snatched that diploma, flipped Higgins the bird, and become a proud graduate of Hawkins High."

He bites his lip nervously.

"Or the aforementioned Higgins will be found lying in a pool of his own blood in the parking lot, barely recognizable because of all the papercuts," she winks. Eddie grins, feeling relief wash over him at her twisted joke. "C'mon, handsome, let's go eat breakfast before we get dressed. I don't trust you with syrup and ironed clothes."

Eddie growls and tackles her back to the bed, covering her in kisses. The most important day of their lives can wait a few more minutes.

Eddie Munson may not have had the largest cheering section on the football field behind Hawkins High on Graduation Day, but it's quite possible that he had the loudest. Everyone came out to support their favorite Dungeon Master as he strutted across the stage and finally snatched that diploma he'd been eyeing for so many years.

(Contrary to the plans he announced frequently and loudly, he did not flip Higgins the bird and run like hell outta there. You chose to believe that it was because he was so grateful to finally get a diploma after sitting in that crummy metal chair in the stifling sun for over two hours of back-patting and repetitive speeches, he didn't want to cause any further delays to the long day. Although it would've been hilarious if Higgins had chased him off the stage.)

The ceremony had kicked off at noon, and it was well after two by the time the hats were finally tossed into the air. You and Eddie had shoved your way through the crowd of graduates, bumping shoulders and climbing chairs to attack each other with the tightest hug you'd ever shared.

"You did it, baby," you'd whispered with all the love in your heart. Eddie Munson had let out an honest-to-God giggle. And then your family and friends had descended for hugs and congratulations and photographs. You'd never seen Wayne Munson smile so wide in his life, as when your mom made him pose with Eddie and his diploma. That picture's definitely getting framed.

After the field began to clear out, the elder Hellfire members climbed into Eddie's van and went to Jeff's house. Jeff also had a fancy new diploma in his possession, and his parents had insisted that he invite a few of his friends over for cake and ice cream with the family. You went straight there, in your good clothes, so as to not frighten his grandparents with your ripped jeans and scary t-shirts. It was quite a pleasant, family-friendly afternoon.

And then the party moved to your house.

It took less than two minutes for you and Eddie to change from your semi-formal graduation-wear to your normal clothes. This was your night, and dammit, you were going to be comfortable for it.

Your mom had made enough food to feed an army. Wayne had taken the day off to attend the ceremony, man the grill, and guard the cooler full of beer. The backyard had been decorated with repurposed Christmas lights, lining the back fence and the path around the garden pond where your goldfish lived. The sun was still shining when you got there, but the lights were pretty anyway.

The younger Hellfire members, also known as Eddie's little sheepies, were invited to this one. Dustin's mom pulled in with a carload of nerds and a few extra lawn chairs, exactly on time. Your mom even talked her into staying for dinner; you had plenty, after all.

You and Eddie and all the people you loved - your mom, Uncle Wayne, Corroded Coffin, The Hellfire Club and a few adjacent youths, and even the mystical figure known as Reefer Rick - sat in the back yard and reminisced for hours. Your mother and Mrs. Henderson both had cameras, and spent the evening snapping away and going through God-knows-how-many rolls of film. The crowd ate burgers and hot dogs and dug into Tupperware containers of sides and demolished several bags of potato chips. The laughter was loud and genuine. You didn't ever want the evening to end.

You're pulled out of your blissful little reverie, leaning against Eddie in a shared lounge chair and sipping on lemonade, when his lips brush against your neck. You turn to face him with a quirked eyebrow.

"Sun's starting to go down," he whispers. "Wanna go inside with me for a minute?"

Your stomach flutters. You answer with a smile.

You get up from the low chair as gracefully as you can, pulling him up once you're standing. No one notices you slipping away except Rick, who winks at you just as he's getting to the good part in a wild story about fishing that you and Eddie have both heard before.

When you step into the house and close the door behind you, you wrap each other in a hug. Alone at last.

"I love you," Eddie whispers.

"I love you more," you answer.

"Impossible," he mutters.

You chuckle and pull back for a kiss.

"You still wanna do this?" he asks, biting his lip nervously.

"Of course I do," you whisper. "Do you?"

"Duh," he grins.

When you come back outside, most of the party has moved to the fish pond.

Once upon a time, you stole a bunch of goldfish from a school carnival you were forced to participate in. Your mother rolled with it, having Eddie and Gareth dig a hole and build a little pond for them. Since then, she's been filling in that whole corner of the backyard with beautiful flowers and little walkways and a nice bench that Eddie liberated from somebody's curb on trash day. The garden is her favorite place to read. It's you and Eddie's favorite place to smoke and talk to your fish. Even Gareth comes out here sometimes when there's a disgusting display of affection going on inside.

And tonight, one of the most important moments of your life is going to take place in it.

Rick sees you hovering by the porch and grins.

"Hey folks, can I have y'all gather 'round for a minute, please?" he asks. "I've got a little something to say about today's graduates."

The stragglers who aren't already in the garden with Rick wander toward him.

"Where are they, by the way?" your mom asks, turning around and scanning the yard. She freezes when she spots you with flowers in your hair, holding a small bouquet that your other half definitely didn't steal from one of her flower beds.

You hold your breath. The arm Eddie has around you tenses. You can see the wheels in her brain turning, grateful to see it end with a smile on her lips instead of smoke from her nostrils. She gives you a nod. You breathe a collective sigh of relief and notice that hers aren't the only eyes on you.

Wayne's smirking, like he knew this was going to happen. Gareth's brow is furrowed. Jeff and Grant have matching O's on their faces. Dustin's mom has tears in her eyes and a hand covering her mouth. Max is whispering in Jane's ear. And Dustin and Mike and Lucas are arguing about something, completely oblivious to what's about to happen until Erica starts stomping on feet and smacking backs of heads. You adore that kid.

"Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag," Rick laughs. "Come on down here, I've got some speechifyin' to do!"

You and Eddie approach the garden. The small crowd parts to let you through. You stop next to Rick by the pond containing all your gold-finned children. You start to reach for Eddie's hands, but realize you're still holding flowers. Dammit, you should've passed them off to someone on your way in. Before you can get worked up over what to do with them, Eddie snatches them and sticks the stems in the front pocket of his battle vest with a grin. He's perfect.

"Y'all know how in cartoons, a little critter will get hearts in his eyes when he falls in love?" Rick asks, not waiting for a response before continuing. "I always thought that was just a cartoon thing until Eddie Munson walked in my house one day and started talking about this girl he just met, and he would not stop."

You glance at Eddie, who is in the process of turning into a tomato.

"Sorry, bud," Rick grins. "But I told to her mama about it, and it turns out, she did the same damn thing."

Now you and Eddie are a matching set.

"I always thought that love at first sight was just a nice thought. Something people made up for sappy songs and romance novels. I didn't believe in it... until I saw these two together for the first time. I have never seen two people more in love. This girl, and this boy? They were made for each other. Hell, I bet they even finish each other's--"

"Sandwiches," you and Eddie mutter together. Everyone who heard laughs, but nobody laughs harder than Rick.

"See?" he exclaims, gesturing toward you both. "They were made for each other! And that's why when they asked if I'd officiate - yes, folks, I am an ordained minister - I said that it would be my honor. No frills, no stress, just friends and family gathering for a good time. That's really all you need. Some people live their entire lives without truly understanding what love is, and these two went and figured it out already. That seem fair to y'all?"

A few chuckles come from behind you.

"I - and these two beautiful souls we're celebrating - are grateful to you all for being here on this most important day. Today's not just the closing of the Hawkins High chapter of these young lives; it's the beginning of their life as a married couple."

"They already argue like one anyway," a Dustin-like voice calls from behind you. You both whirl around with playful glares, just in time to see Max elbow him in the gut and make him grunt and double over. Serves him right.

"Alright, let's get to it before the kiddos get themselves in too much trouble," Rick laughs, gesturing for you to face each other. "Edward Jameson Munson, do you take this Evil Woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, 'til death do you part?"

"Yes," Eddie grins, his eyes flashing.

"And you," Rick says, full-naming you in front of everyone, "do you take this strange man to be your lawfully wedded husband, from this day 'til your last day?"

"Yes," you answer. Eddie's smile grows so wide, his eyes crinkle.

"Now I know y'all got rings."

You and Eddie chuckle, because of course you do, and two new pieces of metal are slid onto two ring fingers.

"Alright, then by the power vested in me by the state of Indiana, I pronounce you two hitched! Eddie Munson, kiss your bride!"

Your mouth crashes to Eddie's, and your mind goes blank.

When you pull back to look into his big brown eyes, you feel your heart bursting with love. You didn't know it was possible to love a person this much. But Eddie Munson is yours, your one and only, and you're keeping him forever. And you have the paperwork to prove it.

"You gonna throw them flowers, Mrs. Eddie?" Rick prompts, making you and Eddie step back and stop staring at each other before it gets too weird. As if your surprise wedding could be anything else.

You carefully extract your bouquet from the pocket of Eddie's battle vest and look to the small crowd. You're so happy all of these people are here with you, you feel tears prick at your eyes. Before anyone can see, you twirl and fling the flowers backwards, over your head.

Mike's girlfriend catches them. Mike turns red, Lucas and Dustin laugh, and poor Jane just looks confused. Max whispers in her ear, probably explaining what catching the flowers means, and she turns red too. The older crowd laughs gently when they see the realization dawn on her face. That poor kid.

"Congratulations, you two," Rick says, clapping a hand on each of your shoulders.

"Thank you," you and Eddie say together. "For everything," you add. You couldn't have done this without him. Rick is the coolest (and only) ordained minister you know. He offered to officiate, to distract the guests while you slipped away to get ready, and to hide the wedding cake in a cooler in his car. He even handed over the keys to his hunting cabin, where you and Eddie plan to spend your honeymoon. You don't need exotic beaches or fancy hotels. You just need each other, and a little help from the man they call Reefer Rick.

Rick looks behind you and grins. You turn to see who he's looking at… to find your mother and Wayne waiting patiently.

"Surprise?" you joke, scrunching an eye and bracing yourself for the worst. You are fully aware that you stole this look from Eddie. It's a shared asset now anyway, right?

Wayne snorts. Your mom laughs and steps forward, hugging you and then Eddie. Wayne hangs back, not really one for physical affection. That's alright. You know he loves you both anyway.

"Surprise indeed," she agrees, standing back to take in your wedding attire. It's not exactly traditional, but it felt right.

"Are you mad?" you ask, regretting giving her an opening as soon as the words leave your mouth.

"No," she smiles.

"We waited 'til after graduation," Eddie says helpfully.

She sighs and shakes her head in a good-natured what am I doing to do with you kind of way, fighting a smile the whole time.

"What are you gonna do now?" Wayne asks.

"Honeymoon," Eddie answers, like it's obvious.

"With what money?" Wayne challenges.

"We've been saving up, thank you very much," Eddie says, hand over his heart like he's taken offense. "Also, Rick gave me the keys to his hunting cabin."

"Wow, that's romantic," Gareth deadpans, appearing behind your mother with a scowl on his face.

"Aww, I've always wanted a baby brother!" Eddie beams, bouncing forward to attack Gareth with a hug.

"Get off me," he grunts, trying to get away. Eddie doesn't allow it.

"Family hug!" you chirp, before joining in.

Gareth continues to struggle, but with you and Eddie on either side of him, he doesn't stand a chance. You grin at each other over that messy blonde mop. He's your partner in crime for life now. You two against the world. Or right now, your baby brother.

"Alright, leave the poor kid alone," your mom chuckles, trying to free her second-born. "You have the rest of your lives to terrorize him."

You both cackle wickedly and let him go. Gareth crosses his arms and glares at Eddie… until a thought occurs to him. You can practically see the lightbulb go off over his head.

"You can never kick me out of the band now," he grins. "Or you'll have to deal with her."

Eddie's eyes dart to you. This is true. However…

"Or maybe I'll go all Yoko to kick off Eddie solo career," you shrug.

"Would you really do us like that?" Jeff asks, approaching with Grant and an offended look on his face.

"Only time will tell," you grin.

All at once, the rest of the boys descend on Eddie. They circle him and congratulate him with whoops and back-slaps and the occasional noogie to his already-messy hair. You watch with amusement until you notice the girls approach.

"Congratulations," Jane says slowly.

"Thank you," you beam. "I'm so glad you girls are here. I'm sick of being outnumbered by all these dumb boys."

"Right?!" Max exclaims, glaring at Lucas. You wonder what insensitive dumb-assery caused him to get dumped this week.

"There's somethin' seriously wrong with this town," Erica scoffs, looking from Max to you with a quirked eyebrow. "How are all these giant nerds gettin' girls who are way cooler than them? It's unnatural."

"Aw, Erica," you grin. "I'm sure you'll get a giant nerd of your own some day."

"Hard pass, Mrs. Freak."

"Mrs. Freak?" you laugh. "That's going on my license plate."

"Has a nice ring to it," your mom notes.

You smile at her, and she returns it. But then, her smile fades. Her eyes dart to your stomach. You know what she's asking. You shake your head slightly. You are both impressed that you've had an entire conversation without words, and annoyed that she even considered that you married the love of your life today because he knocked you up. Her face softens again, and your annoyance is quickly forgotten. The young girls still standing near you are none the wiser.

"Ha!" your mother laughs suddenly. "Your grandparents are going to be pissed. And your dad? Oh my God, he didn't get invited to his own daughter's wedding. He is never going to live this down."

"Guess he shouldn't have been such a dick-hole, then," you shrug.

"Dick-hole?" Jane questions. Max snorts. Erica turns away to hide her smile. You bite your lip.

"That's not a nice word," your mom explains gently. "She shouldn't have said that."

"My dad's not as cool as yours," you clarify, hoping that Chief Hopper's adopted daughter doesn't credit you for the addition of dick-hole to her vocabulary.

"Oh," Jane says casually, clearly used to this type of thing. You're sure she's heard worse from Dustin, who definitely didn't learn any new words from Eddie when he joined Hellfire.

The sound of a guitar blaring through speakers makes you all turn toward the noise, to find Rick fiddling with a boom box. Wayne has joined him, leaning against the house with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Rick presses a button to stop the tape and turns to face you.

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Eddie ready for their first official dance as a married couple?"

You look to Eddie. Eddie looks to you. He holds out a hand. You step toward him and take it. Rick presses play on the tape that Eddie gave him yesterday. You spent almost a week trying to curate sides A and B of The Wedding Mix Tape together, arguing over the song order and calculating runtimes in a true test of your relationship. If you made it through that, surely the rest of your lives would be a breeze.

You gaze into your husband's eyes and start to move with him to the sounds of the first song you agreed on, in your back yard, surrounded by all the people you love most, and you think to yourself… maybe this is the most important day of your life.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman #eddie munson

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bluem1lls · 3 months ago

Note

i need part 2 of se-mi with comphet reader 😭

✧₊⁺ speak now (or don't, and love forever in silence)

groom bff! se-mi x comphet! reader

synopsis: after years of waiting, he finally propose. wasn't this everything you wished for?

but you couldn't bring yourself to be happy.

was it maybe because when you thought about it, all you could picture was her face?

content: some angst, but finally fluff!!!!

authors note: im so sorry for the looooong ass late updates, im so so busy but im ab to go on break so everyone cheered!!! im back i promise:( im so excited for this part 2 i actually love it and i hope u do too!!!!

part one. part two (you're here!)

famous actress finally engaged with the famous choi su-bong, more known as 'thanos', old rapper surging back!

we all saw on Instagram the romantic proposal he prepped for her, and of course like every girl would, she said yes!

we are so happy for the married couple!

"fucking bullshit" se-mi threw her phone away with rage after reading the most liked post from the magazine's instagram.

her hands went to her face as she groaned, biting back her lip to keep the tears away.

poor dumb girl. she actually thought you were coming back to her...

"the way he proposed was so romantic, i'm glad he did it that way, it was what you always wanted ever since you were a kid" my best friend jun-hee took my hands between hers with a comforting smile. i smiled softly as i sighed.

"y-yeah. it was.." i whispered. she stares into my eyes, squeezing my hands. her expression fell, now filled with pity. she knew me more than anyone.

"you do know that you're supposed to be happy about getting married right?" she says with a lifted eyebrow as i pressed my lips.

"i am." i said, trying to convince myself.

"honey-" she murmurs as i cut her.

"i have to be." i said, turning to face myself in the mirror. streightening my skirt as i faked my best smile.

and it was true. everything was exactly how i always wanted it.

so.. why didn't it felt like it?

i heard a knock that snapped me out of my thoughts. we both turned as the door opened. "excuse me, just wanted to let you know the invitations have been sent" a girl said with a smile as i nodded, thanking her.

once she left, jun-hee stared at me. "did you sent one for.." my best friend said, stopping herself as i shuddered.

"yeah. of course. they're best friends." refering to my husband and se-mi. i put a smile to pretend i didn't cared. or at least i tried, although it didn't even reached my eyes.

if your own best friend stares at you with pity, you start to consider maybe you're not doing as well as you thought.

but i couldn't back up. not now. not ever.

"this belongs in the trash" se-mi says with a sarcastic smirk, grabbing the invitation only to crumble it with anger as min-su stops her.

"we can't just.. not go" he says to her as she stares at him, incredulous.

"do you want me to go to that fucking wedding? for what?" she spits with anger and disbelief, her voice getting louder as he sighs. he got used to seeing his best friend angered ever since the news came out.

"listen, i get it, okay? but it's our best friend's wedding. we can't just miss it" min-su says in a soft tone, trying to make her understand.

"i refuse to watch her get married." her cold voice snaps. "fuck this." she says with a groan, frustration all over her face.

"you need to move on! you know those two! yeah they hate eachother, but they're not breaking up sem. they're getting married, and probably everything that goes after that. are you just gonna avoid thanos until you die?" he says snapping as she furrows her brow, a small pout on her pierced lips without her even noticing it.

"there's nothing to move on, there was never anything between me and her right?" she says with a sigh. "i'm still not going. i fucking hate weddings" she says under her breath, going to her room to avoid the conversation. and something about that doesn't feel true, because she loves to think about you on a wedding dress. but not if it's not with.. she shakes her head to remove the thought, slamming the door. min-su sighs, his hands on his face, exhausted.

"oh god" jun-hee says with tears on her face, her eyes twinkle in awe as i laugh, a little teary.

the dress looks.. perfect. just like in my childhood dream. my perfect dream wedding.

"it was made for you" she says as i chuckle, giving a little spin for her.

i should be so happy...

"yeah.. i think we're done" i say to the girl from the store, who's standing on my side, staring at me with a soft smile. "this is it. this is the one."

i slowly head back to the changing room to remove the dress. i place back my clothes while my assistant goes to pay. i stare at myself in the mirror.

why am i not happy? why doesn't it feel like i'm getting married?

i sigh as i leave the store with my two companions.

"let's grab some coffee, it's right around the corner and im dying for some caffeine." jun-hee says as i nod.

i feel my phone buzzing on my pockets.

oh god, of course. he's always fucking forgetting about the wedding or where i am. god why am i marrying this-

my breath hitches as i grab my phone, reading the text.

this can't be happening.

not now.

oh god.

sem: a wedding?

sem: really?

of course it's her.

of course she texts me out of nowhere a fucking random tuesday at 3 pm.

of course she makes my heart beat on my chest like no one ever did. just for a fucking text.

i scoff in disbelief as my manicured nails type with anger.

me: for real?

me: this is what you're texting me?

me: after not hearing about you for fucking YEARS??????

i see the little bubble that indicates she's typing back. the fact that she hasn't left the chat since she texted me makes me bite my lip.

sem: i've seen the photos

sem: you know

sem: you dont look like someone whos excited to get married

i roll my eyes as i let out a shaky breath, she hit a nerve.

me: what do you know? you havent talked to me in years, maybe things changed.

sem: everything did.

sem: except this.

sem: why do you keep lying to yourself?

i place my phone back in my pocket with shaky hands, leaving her on seen. i place my head on my hands as i groan.

why did she had appear out of nowhere?

i was fine without.. knowing about her.

without thinking about her. without her smile. without knowing if she's seeing someone..

i was okay without her. yeah. i was perfect.

god i really need that coffee.

as i get home i watch my... fiance laying on the couch.

"did you even tried the cake samples i left?" i said with frustration as i leave my purse.

"uh, nam-gyu did, he said the black tea one was really good" he said without too much care as i stared at him disbelief.

"am i getting married to nam-gyu? because i needed MY husband to try them!" i say, standing in front of him, my hands on my hips as he rolled his eyes.

"who the fuck cares about the cake baby? no one does" he says, his arms sneaking around my waist to bring me closer to him.

"i care! i am going to be the wife in this fucking wedding and i care about the cake!" i shout angry. "and don't touch me" i let myself loose of his grip as he groans in built frustration.

"seriously? this again?" he says with a sigh, letting go.

"after the wedding" i say to him as my heart sinks. liar.

"about time" he rolls his eyes, his focus on the phone once again.

i stare at him blinking in disbelief.

this is my life?

am i gonna marry.. this idiot?

i go upstairs as i remove my outside clothes, placing on my pjs. i slowly let myself sink in bed as i grab my phone, my hands trembling as i bite my lip.

was this a good idea? no.

clearly not.

but god, i couldn't stop thinking about her.

me: are you coming?

me: to the wedding

me: i sent you an invitation

it takes her two minutes to reply.

sem: no.

oh. i chew on my bottom lip thinking about what to reply, until she texts back a few minutes later.

sem: why?

do i? do i wanna get marry, knowing she's there, staring at me?

the question is.. will i get married, knowing she's there, sitting on the crowd, watching me?

me: i want you there

the texting bubbles appear and disappear for over 10 minutes, making me extremely anxious as i wait for her reply.

sem: okay

okay what? okay that i want her there although i shouldn't? okay that-

sem: i'll see you there.

sem: consider this as my confirmation to the wedding.

i throw my phone away with shaky hands. my head sinks on my pillow, muffling my scream.

god, what have i done?

finally, today is the day.

today, i'm getting married.

the happiest day in my life. that's what everyone is saying.

so why i've been crying non stop until falling asleep?

i stared at myself, sat in front of my mirror. my makeup perfectly done, my hair loose in soft waves, the dress made just for me. it had to be like this, because this was what everyone expected from me.

i sighed as i stood up, leaving the room to go wait on the door for my entrance. i could hear the bells ringing, the wedding music. my dad appears, walking slowly until he was standing besides with a smile.

"i'm proud of you" he said, staring at front as i did too, my eyes teary. but it wasn't happiness, it was...

"everything is like it's supposed to be" i said, streightening myself. my head turned to stare at him. "am i finally the perfect daughter?" i asked my dad, my voice trembling with emotion.

he gave me a confused stare, a hint of what it looked like sadness, creeping into his stare. "it's not the wedding, it's clearly not the husband" he said as we both softly chuckled. "it's you.. you're my daughter. and i don't need you to be perfect, you being you it's all i want. your happiness. honey, nothing else matters after that." he said as i holded my tears. i bit the inside of my cheek, my heart pounding on my chest.

it's too late now, isn't it?

i could feel him interlock our arms as the doors opened. we moved one step at a time as we slowly entered the ceremony. to my wedding.

i shudder at the sight of everyone in the room, but i knew my eyes were only scanning to look for one person.

and when i found her, and my heart stopped.

she was watching me with a soft gaze, eyes almost twinkling as she roamed through my form, slowly taking my face, my body in the dress, and lastly, going up to meet my eyes. all i needed to make my heart flutter. i felt frozen in place, i could see everyone staring at me, wondering why i wasn't moving. my dad pulled my arm to get me out of my trance, but nothing worked.

i was there, stucked right where she left me.

on the last time i saw her. the last time my heart beated for her.

"if we get out of here and.. you decide that you're done being his perfect wife, and maybe you want to be happy.. with me.. i'll be waiting. i promise"

she was just as beautiful as i remembered her. of course i've seen pictures of her, but nothing like seeing her in person again.

our stare never breaking.

her eyes screamed 'please, love me'

and mine replied 'i do. but i shouldn't'

"are you okay?" my dad said, breaking the staring contest as i took reality of my surroundings. i shakily let out a small breath as i nodded with a fake smile. i kept walking to the altar, where i saw my... future husband.

right.

as i took my place, he took my hands in between his.

i trembled, and i swear i wanted to hear whatever the priest was saying. i really did.

but all my focus was on her.

was everyone blind for not noticing? or was everyone trying to pretend they couldn't tell how i stared at my husband's best friend?

when our eyes met again, i averted my gaze, trying really hard to pay attention to the priest talking on the altar to me and my future husband.

but god, i could not focus when she was here.

until i heard the priest coming to the end of his speech.

"if anyone has just cause to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace"

silence spreaded on the ceremony.

the quietness in the room making me shiver.

until it wasn't quiet anymore.

because everyone gasped.

and my eyes shut close.

and the quietness was replaced with whispers, with judging stares.

it wasn't quiet anymore, because she stood up.

my heart felt like it stopped in place. i could see my fiance's eyes widen, staring at se-mi like she was mad, insane.

but i knew she wasn't.

she was just in love, like i was.

and god, not from my husband.

her tall figure stood in the public, standing up as her mouth agaped like a fish. she tried to find any words to say, but she couldn't.

min-su and nam-gyu besides her, staring like if she grew a second head, completely shocked.

my eyes widen as i saw her take a sit again.

her mind was conflicted. i could tell. does she oppose? does she love quietly? what was more important? her best friend or her feelings? she shifted uncomfortably on her chair.

what was done was done, right?

fuck it. she thought, standing up once again.

everyone stared, their eyes open like never before.

"i-i oppose" she says in a weak, trembling voice. her eyes find mine, her stare pleads me to not let this keep going.

it begs me to go with her.

her hand moves to try and reach me as i watch her trembling hand and her pleading expression.

"i love you." she says with tears on her eyes.

and of course i knew this couldn't happen. of course i knew this was madness. i was about to get married. my life was buildt for this specific moment.

but my heart responded first with a sigh. not tears, not a scream, not a mad reply.

a sigh of relief.

i stare at the people sitting shocked in their seats. their gazes gravitating from her, to me and choi su-bong.

and suddenly, it's not like before. i'm not frozen in place, i'm not scared. i don't feel ashamed, i don't feel a thing.

except relief and love.

my last sign? when i stare at my parents, and they dont look at me ashamed. they're not embarrassed. they nod at me with tears in their eyes, intertwining their hands.

i get off the altar as i laugh.

a laugh of happiness. i chuckle loud and the feeling takes my entire body as i walk to her slowly. our stare never breaking as i stand in front of her, in my beautiful white dress. i reach to take her hand, the contact leaves a warm feeling on my heart.

"can we go?" are the only words that leave my lips with a shaky breath.

she stares at me, letting out an airy soft chuckle in disbelief, not believing this is happening.

"fuck, yes." is all she mutters as she moves in between the people, intertwining our hands like she never plans to release me as we run to the exit, our hearts jump in our chest.

and this is insane. i know it when we get into her rusty old car while the people gather outside to stare at us. but it doesn't matter.

it doesn't matter when my dress ruffles through the window, it doesn't matter when i buckle my seat belt with a happy smile and it certainly doesn't matter when she actually starts driving and we laugh, like a whole hearted laugh.

"you left your husband. in the altar. you left him" she says chuckling, filled with emotions. shock, disbelief, happiness.

"i- i did. and i don't regret it. god i don't regret leaving him for his.. best friend" i laugh as i stare at her. i take a deep breath as i speak "stop the car" she stops so abruptly, the car brakes.

"are you regr-" i unbuckle my seat belt as i turn aside. i cup her face in between my hands, my eyes roaming across her entire features.

this is the woman i love. it feels so good to finally say it out loud.

and i kiss her.

and is everything i always wanted to feel. it's what i expected from every single one of my ex-boyfriends. is filled with hunger, desire, passion and love.

and my heart feels warm and i know now exactly what love was supposed to feel like.

the kiss lowers to something softer, one of her hands goes to my cheek, caressing it with her thumb as my hand moves to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer. her other hand roams through my body to grip my waist.

"this feels like a dream" she mumbles in between kisses.

"i know, i know" i replied as i kissed her again and again, love-drunk. "but it's not. i'm yours se-mi. i'm completely yours" i whispered against her lips as she nodded excited. her nose softly caressing mine, an intimate gesture.

"can i start the car and get the fuck out of here, please? because i never want to look back" she says breaking the kiss. i nod happily.

"please, start the fucking car" i chuckle as i go back to my seat, connecting to the bluetooth of her car, i look at the playlist on my phone until i find the one.

"i am not the kind of girl

who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion

but you are not the kind of boy

who should be marrying the wrong girl"

she smacks me softly as she listens to the lyrics, rolling her eyes as i snort.

and as my eyes find hers, i know i finally am where i belong.

known actress leaves husband on the altar!

we saw our famous girl, that we all know and love, leaving rapper ''thanos' on the altar.

the last thing we heard from him to the press was: i hope she's happy now.

and she looks like it! because she's been sharing photos on social media with her new girl non stop!

let's wish a happy relationship to the recently out of the closet actress!

#se mi x reader #player 380 x reader #se-mi x reader #player 380 #se mi #se-mi #squid game #squid game 2 #lesbian #se mi squid game #wlw #squid games #squid games fluff #won ji an #won ji an x reader #angst with a happy ending

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luigisleftshoe · 20 days ago

Text

Newly Wed Luigi Headcanons

Wait, I know I said that I think he would rather elope and then do the actual wedding party stuff later. I still think that but for the sake of this hc let's pretend this is the actual wedding with the white dress and party stuff.

The second he sees you walking down the aisle he’s GONE. Like. Gone. Hand over his mouth. Tearing up instantly. Says “holy shit” out loud. Probably tries to hold it together and then FULLY loses it when he hears the first note of your song.

He’s a little fidgety standing at the altar. Keeps bouncing slightly on his heels (like that video of him at like the potluck). Might accidentally mouth the vows along with the officiant. Is gripping his hands behind his back like it’s the only thing keeping him from running to you.

His vows? Unhinged in the most heart-wrenching way. He will start with a dumb joke to lighten the mood and then its just 3 minutes of straight up emotional murder. Hell say something like: “Before I met you, I didn’t know I could feel this safe and this terrified at the same time.”, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I swear to keep proving I do for the rest of my life.” Everyone is in tears

Has a tiny moment of panic right before saying “I do.” Not because he’s unsure. But because he suddenly realizes this is real and it overwhelms him. You give him a look. He exhales. He says: “Yeah. I do. I really do.” Like he’s saying it to himself, not just the officiant.

He will be SO SOFT DURING THE TOASTS. Like if his sisters or his best friends were toasting he's covering his face when people are looking at you two. He mumbles “dont look at me” when he's getting roasted in the toast.

100% does a dumb little speech he did NOT prepare. Gets on the mic in the night and is like: “sorry, i know you are all trying to eat cake, but I love my wife so much its physically stupid.” You're yelling at him to sit down. Hes trying to tell your grandma how hot you are.

First dance? Oh boy be prepared. Look homeboy went to all private schools he was definitely forced into doing cotillion he knows how to formal dance. So be PREPARED. But also hes so soft. Hell pull you super close and kiss your temple and whisper things like: “I feel like I won something I didnt even know i entered.”, “Im so fucking in love with you its embarassing”

He absolutely packs a tiny “wedding night kit” and forgets to hide it. Silk boxers. Fancy beard oil he never uses. your favorite perfume (for you) because he wants to associate it with this night forever. Hydration tablets. You ask why he has it and he stammers: “...I just wanted to be... prepared. For... vibes.”

That first night tho. MY BOY IS SHAKEN. Like. You get to the hotel room and he just stands there. Looking at you. Hands in his pockets. Doing that little head tilt he does when he’s overwhelmed, like he physically can’t speak for a second. Then finally: “You’re my wife. You’re—my fucking wife.” And you’re like “yeah babe we covered that” but he’s literally having a full emotional meltdown in silence.

Kisses you like you’re air. Not rushed. Not frantic. Just long, aching, reverent. Both hands on your face, thumbs dragging across your cheekbones like he’s trying to memorize your whole being. When you pull back for a second, he just presses his forehead against yours and whispers: “Don’t look at me like that or I’ll cry. Again.”

However, you kiss him like dress half-off and he pauses like: “Babe I love you but I'm gonna pass out if I don't eat something. Do you want a protein bar or should we dorr dash?” (you end up sharing cold fries in bed after round one. Its iconic)

He doesn’t undress you — he unwraps you. Like you’re the most precious gift. Unzips your dress painfully slow. Leaves kisses on every inch of skin as he reveals it. Whispers dumb, soft things like: “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life learning how to love you right.” (And then follows it up with a cocky “...and I’m starting tonight.”)

He's so nervous. But only because he wants to get everything completely perfect. Like he knows your body. You've done this before. But something about being your “wedding night” short circuits his brain. “This is like, this is supposed to be important, right? Like legendary? What if i fuck up the tempo? What if it's not special enough? What if I pass out?” You have to literally climb into his lap be like “Lu, breath. I married you. You win.”

ALso HE wears his wedding ring during sex and lowkey can't stop staring at it. At one point he has both hands on your hips and then fully pauses just to look down at his hand and mutters: “Holy shit. That's my wife. That's my ring. On my wife.” You have to pull him back because he's lost in the sauce of his own emotions.

He had a plan. He 100% had a plan. A playlist. A position order. He READ AND REREAD that one sexual book on his goodreads. Also maybe googled “meaningful post-wedding sex rituals.” but the second you look at him like you want him? All of it goes out the window. He's feral now. Gripping your thighs and whispering “you wanna see how good your husband can make you feel?”

He's a whole different animal once his nerves fade . Voice drops. Hands firm. Grip steady. He pins you down like he's trying to claim you again, but with his body this time. Mouth hot. Words are hot. Whispers between kisses: “your mine now.” forever, baby. Are you ready for that?” “wanna fuck you slow, wanna make it count.” He's making eye contact with you the whole time. Soft and possessive. Breathless and controlled.

Foreplay lasts forever. He's not rushed. He's savoring it. Kisses down your chest like you're the only thing he's ever prayed to. Fingers gentle, teasing, reverent. Makes you beg just a little: “say you want me. Say it like you mean it. You're my wife, I need to hear you.”

He presses you into the bed like he’s anchoring himself. No teasing. No patience. He slides into you like he already knows every part of your body — but it still knocks the breath out of him. Forehead against yours. Groaning like he’s in pain: “God—fuck—how do you feel this good? How do you always feel like home?” You try to answer but he’s already moving — steady, deep, desperate to ruin you slowly.

You finish first. He makes sure of it. Then again. And again. He’s addicted. Obsessed. Whispering “one more, baby, c’mon” as he pins your hands above your head and grinds into you slow, deep, devastating. When he finally lets go? He moans your name like it’s a prayer and collapses onto you, trembling from the intensity, his hand still wrapped around your thigh like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

He insists on doing all the cleanup like he’s your personal wedding night nurse. Wipes you down gently. Finds your robe and puts it around you like a cape. Tucks you into bed and goes: “You’re not lifting a finger. I’m your husband now. You get carried, fed, and worshipped.”

And oh ymgopd the honeymoon

He says it’s gonna be relaxing. It’s not. Before you even land, he has: 3 dinner reservations, 2 couple’s excursions, A “just-for-fun” spreadsheet. He calls it “loose structure for love.” You call it “why are we hiking at 6am.” He packs resistance bands. For what. No one knows.

The second he sees you in a swimsuit he forgets how to speak. Legit stares with his jaw halfway open. Grabs your hand like he’s grounding himself. Whispers: “My wife’s a danger to national security.” Then makes you take a million photos so he can look at them “in case of emergency.” (He means horniness.)

The hotel staff know you by name within 48 hours. Because this man: Orders you room service every morning, Brags about you to the concierge, Tips too much when they say “Mrs. Mangione” and then whispers “say it again.” He is absolutely That Husband™.

The sex? Feral. But romantic. But feral. He’s soft until he’s not. Massages sunscreen into your back and then fucks you face down, legs shaking, bed a mess — all while whispering: “Married you for this. Married you for all of this.” He has no chill. At one point he literally says: “I’m making up for every second we weren’t married.” ...and then proves it.

You two try to cook one night and end up half-naked, covered in sauce. He’s behind you like: “Babe. Babe. You’re stirring wrong. Let me help—” Which means: his arms around you, hips pressed in, voice dropping, hands slowly drifting. And then you’re bent over the counter with pasta boiling and his wedding ring digging into your thigh. Iconic.

He gets real soft out of nowhere. You’re lying on a beach towel. He props himself up on one elbow, looks at you, and says: “Is this what peace feels like? Because it’s you. It’s always you.” Then immediately fumbles it with: “Anyway I got sand in my ass but like in a spiritual way I’m thriving.”

On your last night he gets emotional before sex. Like way too in his feelings. You climb into his lap and he pulls you in slow, touches your face, murmurs: “This week felt like a lifetime. And still not enough.”, “I wanna keep giving you this. Always. Every version of it.” He makes love to you like a goodbye even though you’re literally going home with him.

He forgets you’re married at random intervals and re-panics. You’ll be like “my husband’s picking me up” and he fully freezes like: “Who??? OH. ME. RIGHT. ME. Sorry. Still adjusting to being The Husband™.” Later that night: “I’m gonna go introduce myself to the mirror. Be right back.”

You get one utility bill with both your names on it and he stares at it like it’s the birth of your first child. “We have a water bill together. That’s so hot. We’re thriving.” Takes a photo of it. Puts it in “Marriage Wins” folder on his phone.

Refers to random objects as “our firsts.”“That’s our first married sponge.”, “That was our first post-honeymoon mug purchase.”, “Don’t throw that out, it’s our first married receipt.”

Grocery shopping becomes horny. You grab olive oil and he’s like: “Careful. You’re holding the essentials of our household. And also you look hot.” Starts narrating your cart like it’s foreplay: “That’s right babe… get those organic strawberries. You’re such a good provider.”

Randomly panics about being a good husband over the dumbest things. One day he forgets to unload the dishwasher and you don’t even notice, but he’s sitting on the couch spiral-texting his college group chat like: “Bros am I failing as a life partner. Be honest.”

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione hc #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione headcanons

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luveline · 2 years ago

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Omg ok Jade my love can I request a princess soulmate au with Steve? Where reader is Prince Steve’s soulmate but maybe she’s not royal herself and is struggling a bit with being the future princess?

Almost like similar vibes to some of the loser gf with rockstar Sirius things you’ve done

thank you sm for your request! (sci-fi fairytale au) prince!steve

cw talk of losing weight to fit into a dress

Prince Steven sits across from you with a bowl of grapes and a pair of embroidery scissors. He's going to stab me, you think morosely. I'm wretched and boring and he's going to stab me and then the stars will give him another soulmate and he'll forget this whole misfortune.

He seems lost for words as you are, or uninterested. You think he's going to talk and he eats another grape instead, hair fluttering in the breeze that filters in from the balcony, his eyes trained on the holoscreen. He's pretty —soft face, softer hair, almond shaped eyes that seem perpetually amused— but more alarmingly, he's fit. Physically fit from years of sports. Royals do all manner of olympiad competition, evident in his toned shoulders and his sun-kissed skin.

"How's your embroidery?" he asks suddenly.

You startle, pretending you'd been attending to that rather than staring at him uselessly. "It's going well, Prince Steven," you lie. You've never embroidered before —you have practical sewing skills for darning scuffed trousers and patching elbows, but embroidery is a labour of time. Time is a luxury you haven't had.

"Steve," he corrects.

"Do I… Is it really okay for me to call you that? Won't people think I'm presumptuous?"

"Ten dollar word." He slides the bowl toward you, a beautifully glazed ceramic piece that likely cost more than your month's rent. "Well, they usually let me have whatever I want, and I want you to call me Steve. And to relax. And eat more."

"I can't. They said I need to fit into my wedding dress."

"The wedding dress needs to fit you," Steve says, the simple cut of his button down pulled snug to his chest as he leans back in his chair. "Not the other way around. Is that why you didn't eat much at breakfast? Or was it just gross?"

"It wasn't gross," you say softly.

"You don't have to do any of that stuff, either, if it's boring."

You run your finger down the creamy linen stretched between your bamboo hoops. "I don't know if it's boring. I can barely do it."

"You're too mean to yourself," he says.

Steve stands and puts his arm behind his head, pushing his elbow until something clicks. Embarrassed by his dismissal, you stare at your hands and fume at yourself when they begin to tremble.

It's too much. All of it. The cruel Palace attendants who know you're not good enough. Steve and his good nature. The wedding dress, the fine China, your wonky stitches.

Steve steps to your side. He holds out his hand, and you pass him your embroidery without meeting his eyes. Your mood worsens at the sharp slink of snipping, sure that Steve will cut your pattern from the sketch and tell you to start again.

"Sorry, your white knot at the back was bothering me. Pass me a slimmer needle? I'll tuck it behind your stitches."

Astonished, you pass Steve a smaller needle from the pin cushion. His brows creases gently as he works, rewiring the white thread with patience and efficiency.

"There. It looks really nice, honey. You're a fast learner." He passes you the hoop. You take it a beat too slow and he either doesn't notice or doesn't make a fuss, chucking you under the chin softly. "Don't worry so much. I'll talk to Cordelia about your wedding dress, the idea that you need to fit into it like it's one size fits all is dumb. It's made for you. Like, what are they expecting?"

"They're probably hoping this is all a big mistake."

"Did someone say that to you?"

"Nobody had to say it to me, I can tell from the way they look at…" Steve takes your face into his hand, effectively killing anything you'd been trying to say.

He seems royal, then. Used to getting his way, maybe, the disapproving lining of his otherwise sweet eyes. You get a flash of a memory, the morning you'd been presented, Steve in his finery with his platinum crown like a beacon in brown hair, you in your best dress, embarrassingly drab in comparison, your hand offered. He'd been meeting with eligible women all week.

You were there as a formality. Never for a second did you think your soul mark would react to his, lines of light around your opposite wrists.

To think you'd worried about touching him. You could never imagine how beautifully careful he is, how tender. You didn't know men were like this until Steve showed you, his niceness apparently bone deep and in everything he does.

"If people are being jerks, you have to tell me." You never imagined how casual and vulgar he'd be either. "What's the point in being a princess if people don't respect you?"

"I'm not a princess," you say. Your heart is a hummingbird as he turns his hand and strokes your cheeks with the backs of his fingers.

"You will be. Nothing can change that. You're going to be a princess, and you can do as much or as little as you want, because those dorks left me in charge and I say so. I can decree it, if that makes you feel better," he says, dropping his hand, the phantom of it lingering like static shock.

"What if I'm not meant for this?" you ask quietly, shy but terrified enough to ask.

"I was meant for you," he says, tone matching yours in timidity. His sleeves rolled up as they are, you can see the soft light of his soul mark taking a pink hue. "Right?"

Your soul mark glows a gentle pink to match his. Because you and Steve don't know one another well, not yet, but the feeling is there, thrumming under the skin like a pulse. Not love, not not love, a glowing desire. A want to know him.

There have been moments where you wished he wasn't a Prince, but then there's no guarantee you ever would have met.

"Right," you mouth, offering him a small smile.

"We were meant to be together…" Steve bends at the waist, meeting your eyes. He's yet to kiss you in the week since you met, but his touches come braver everyday, the unfamiliarity between you melding into butterflies. His smirk shakes them awake. "So let's be together the way we want to. Think of princess-ing as optional."

"And you as mandatory?"

"I'm also optional," he says with a warm laugh. "But dinner is not. I need to know what you like, if we're going to get married."

You practically gulp. Right. You're going to be his soulmate, his princess, and his wife.

"Don't be scared. I'm not cooking it, chef Joyce is." Steve brushes hair from his eyes like a model from the giant holo screens, unaware of his own attractiveness. "I'm a shitty cook. My talents lie in other things," he drawls grandly, "like lacrosse, and neck massages."

He winks. You laugh genuinely for the first time since you met him, and his face splits with glee.

—

if you want to request anything for this AU please do! steampunk princess soulmate and her smitten prince is my new fave thing

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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eyecan02 · 9 months ago

Text

WARNING: MAJOR BEETLEBABES SPOILERS

I had fun watching this film. It was great seeing the OGs again, it was funny and it had a good script BUT I have to give this movie 7/10 because the pacing was off for the first half of the film and because of the two unnecessary Babyjuice scenes (We'll get to more of that in a bit.)

It just felt rushed and Beetlejuice and Lydia's scenes were limited. Yes, we knew from the get go that Keaton's scenes would be confined because that's how he wanted it but I just like complaining. lol

Before Lydia and Beetlejuice officially reunite, he starts spamming her phone with the Day O song playing with Beetlejuice's name in bold pops ups coming up nonstop. This happens when Rory is trying to talk about their wedding and Lydia just isn't in the mood to talk about it.

The first Beetlebabes scene is the "therapy scene" and its also the first Babyjuice scene. Lydia's belly grows quickly, her water breaks and out pops out Babyjuice. It starts crawling around and soon starts biting on Lydia's ankle. You do actually see bloody teethmarks on Lydia's ankle to which Beetlejuice says, "Takes after his dad." and he starts drooling exaggeratingly.

I don't remember the exact wording but Lydia called Beetlejuice "Demented." To which Beetlejuice replies with something like "Well, if me wanting to be with the love of my life is demented then fine I'm demented. Come here, honey." Yes, he actually calls her the love of his life!

He tries to do the gliding thing he did with Lydia during the first movie when he says this. Before Lydia is pulled to his side, she yells, "Home! Home! Home!"

That's when Lydia tries to hurry to get everyone out of the house and out of Winter River but Astrid tells her she has a date and somehow convinces Lydia to drive her to the boy's house. So Delia and Lydia board up the attic door and decide no one goes in and that they'll leave that same night right after Lydia gets married at midnight.

Now as most of us have heard- Astrid's crush has a secret. That secret is...that he's a ghost. Which, I feel so dumb about not guessing it. I should've figured it out when they showed "The Recently Deceased" book thar he claimed he bought at a "yard sale". The boy (can't remember his name) says Lydia can help him come back to life (not through marriage) and says if she travels with him to the Neitherworld, she'll help her see her dad again.

Lydia soon finds out that the boy (I think his name was Jeremy) was not only someone who killed his parents but is also a ghost (through info from Jane the realtor) so she rushes to rescue Astrid but gets there seconds too late. With no other choice she goes back to the Maitlands home and summons Beetlejuice.

The minute Beetlejuice gets Lydia into the afterlife...they're immediately separated right after the "Bonnie and Clyde line. The excuse? Beetlejuice had to "visit the little boy's room" as a plot device so that Lydia and Astrid could reunite with Astrid's deceased father. He's the one that saves them from the sandworm and helps them make up.

It turns out that Jeremy was gonna swap places with Astrid. She would've gone on the Soul Train that takes you to the "Great Beyond" and he would've resurrected as a living person. This takes place at an immigration office. Beetlejuice has kind of a heroic moment where he switched places with the person behind the glass that gives the "stamp of living approval."

When Jeremy looks at the paper that Beetlejuice gives him, it reads "Shit Out of Luck Fucker". XD This part had everyone howling with laughter. Beetlejuice stamps on the paper and that instantly opens the floor beneath Jeremy and sends him to hell.

Astrid's father helped Lydia and Astrid leave the Neitherworld through a portal in a mausoleum that is conveniantlly across from the church that Lydia is supposed to getting married at. Even though she doesn't really want to marry Rory, she decides to do it anyway. Tells Rory she won't change into her wedding dress- that they should just proceed as they are.

That's when Beetlejuice arrives with Delia, pushes her aside and tells her to "Scram!" lol (Earlier in the film, Delia tried to perform a strange love ritual with a pair of snakes that she was told were defanged. Spoiler: they weren't defanged so she died and got sent to the Waiting Room so since she doesn't want to wait there for ages, she summons Beetlejuice who agrees to help her if he can help her find his "runaway bride".)

Beetlejuice proceeds to drug Rory by stabbing his neck with a syringe and this somehow makes Rory confess whata scumbag he is and how he was just using Lydia for money. Another interesting moment where Beetlejuice is being "helpful" in his own way."

So the next five minutes are just as chaotic as Jenna Ortega described. And remember how we all had speculated that Beetlejuice wouldn't waste time with a song and dance and would try to get through the vows as fast as he could? We were wrong. Beetlejuice apparently thought he had all the time in the world as he starts to lip sync "MacArthur Park" and even had Lydia lip syncing the song to him. His make up got all runny as he wept at his own wedding.

They dance and then Wolf and his SWAT team crash the wedding followed by Delores storming in and Beetlejuice tells her, "It's not you. It's me. I'm just looking for a more soul mate type. You should be with a guy that is more into you."

He magically rips off Rory's shirt to reveal a shirt underneath that says "I Love Delores". Delores is not impressed. And I honestly forgot what happens to Delores but then the Sandworm scene happens and then everything calms down. Lydia, Astrid and Delia try to leave the church but Beetlejuice stops them, reminding Lydia that they have a contract. He pulls out the contract.

But then Astrid remembers something Wolf had mentioned earlier about Beetlejuice violating "Code 669" by bringing a living person to the Neitherword so she states that that means his contract with Lydia is null and void. Beetlejuice's contract proceeds to burst into flame.

Lydia steps forward and says "I'm sorry it didn't work out between us." She says something else that I forgot and proceeds to say his name three times and with each call of his name, Beetlejuice's body inflates more and more until he pops.

Delia promises she'll haunt Lydia and Astrid until they're sick of her. Wolf takes her back to the Neitherworld where Delia reunites with Charles's mangled corpse. It then skips to Lydia announcing the last episode of her show so that she can "start living".

Then it shows Lydia and Astrid traveling together. It looks like they're in Romania/Transylvania where Astrid locks eyes with a cute guy. Then a time skip where Astrid is marrying the guy. Another time skip where Astrid is giving birth. This is where it gets weird. She gives birth to Babyjuice that proceeds to start crawling on the walls. That's when Lydia wakes up, relieved that that was a nightmare when suddenly Beetlejuice leans over her in bed and says, "I just had the strangest dream." Lydia gasps and she wakes up again and slowly looks over to her left to see an empty space and no Beetlejuice.

So I'm guessing that's what that one interviewer guy meant when he told Winona "You sorta got your wish at the end." I guess it means Beetlejuice will always be haunting her and playing the long game of waiting for her. I need to discuss this with someone! What do you think of the spoilers? The ending in particular?

#beetlebabes #beetlebabe #beetlelyds #beetlejuice x lydia #huge beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers #beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers

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demonlorddiva · 2 months ago

Note

Write whatever you think the biggest red and green flags are for all brother

Would be fun I think :)

Your writing is nice, I have no clue what to request but wish to read more, so hope this will do <3

AHHHHH OMG GREAT QUESTION

Thank you so much! Here ya go for the brothers 🥰 let me know if you want the other characters! I’ll go hc route and also in game lore of that’s alright (talking about chats/cards/lessons)

Also these are my personal feelings, if you have different opinions or ideas please share them in the comments! One of the reasons I post is to hear from y’all so I greatly appreciate it! …also I know they are red flags but idc I love them LMAO

Obey me brothers green and red flags

Lucifer

GREEN FLAGS

Responsibility and being to take control of a situation is a big thing for me 😭

Love me a man who takes charge when things get crazy

MANNERS ie holding the door, walking with you on the inside of the sidewalk

His ability to watch your emotions and to know how your feeling just by looking at you

ITS CANON at the end of obey me he pep talked us to go out with all those people watching us

Love for his family 😫 it’s literally so cute

Having Cerberus and taking care of him

RED FLAGS

I will start this by saying luci is my MAN I love him dearly

The wedding event with Lucifer gave me the ICK

So what your not gonna do is tell me how I decorate my wedding! Like yes give me your opinion but you cannot take over my dream 🙄✋

I feel like he would want to see my wedding dress before the ceremony and I would snap

I feel like he would make me feel dumb sometimes

The whole “you humans don’t understand” thing he does sometimes

But I love my old man NEXT

Mammon

GREEN FLAGS

Remembering things you like/dislike

Canon has the closest relationship with you

Definitely knows any allergies/conditions you have and how to deal with them

Funny I LOVE a sense of humor

Dresses nice

Loves spoiling you

PROTECTIVEEEE

RED FLAGS

I the whole greed thing but if this man stole from me I’d freak

Especially if it was something special idk if I’d recover

His ability to lie

Don’t get me wrong he’s not great at it but I still don’t like it HAHA

Levi

GREEN FLAGS

Being able to sew and make costumes! Shows an eye for detail

Being so into anime and video games I like people with hobbies

As a sailor moon girly I LOVE that he’s in to ruri chan I’d probably be obsessed too

Having a pet and taking care of it!! Shows responsibility and I like that

Sense of humor (I feel like I’d be the only one laughing at his meme jokes and I love that)

RED FLAGS

Y’all know what I’m gonna say

INSECURITY

Like I feel like I’d have to yell at him all the time for dogging on himself all the time and we couldn’t have a proper discussion about our relationship without him being like “IM SORRY IM THE WORST PERSON EVER”

Silly lil guy let me cuddle you

Satan

SMART

Reads books (hobby)

Super into cats and doesn’t care who knows it

Canon he helps you with your homework just to be nice

RESPONSIBLE (when he’s not causing trouble lmao)

He really is the brother with the best ability to control his sin. He really tries his best to keep his cool and I really love that

Def has manners and will pull your chair out at dinner 😫✋

RED FLAGS

His resentment towards Lucifer

HEAR ME OUT

Like I totally understand his feelings. Bros been through a LOT and deserves a lot of grace considering his sin and what that entails

But y’all are BROTHERS you can’t be destroying the entire house every time someone slightly compares you to him

But then you have to ask how much can he help it? I’m sure logically he knows it’s not okay but he can’t help it… this is hard HAHA

But that’s all love my cute lil cat boy

ASMO

IM SO SORRY I FORGOT maybe he’s so perfect it got difficult LMAO

GREEN FLAGS

I feel like when his brothers are fighting he’s always one to try to stop them and get them to talk it out

Him taking care of himself! Always dressing and looking nice I like that 🥰

Not afraid to cry!

Knows how to talk in a social setting (I’m awkward af)

Confidence in general! (We love a self assured boy)

RED FLAGS

Parties too much. Not that I don’t trust him going out without me I just don’t trust anyone else

As someone who’s not skinny and doesn’t have clear skin to have someone who basically looks like Aphrodite FLIP when they get one pimple would send me over the edge

If we lived together (in our own place) he’d be a bathroom hog and I couldn’t handle that

But UGH hes my second highest intimacy in both games I love that he’s dramatic and crazy HAHA

Beel

SOOO SWEET

Emotionally intelligent

In most situations he just wants everyone to be happy and to resolve any conflict by talking it out

Loves hugs AHHH 😫💕

Loves sports and working out! (Hobbies)

STRONG

TALL

RED FLAGS

This is so hard LMAO

Him eating my food would be upsetting tho. And it’s canon that he does it to the brothers so there’s a chance he clears the kitchen and your foods in there

As someone who’s autistic and won’t eat anything unless it’s a certain thing I feel that would throw me over the edge

And like food rages are CRAZY but it’s like his sin so just like Satan I get it

Belphegor

GREEN FLAGS

Smart! Canon he gets everything right on his tests even tho he sleeps!

Loves astronomy (hobbies!)

LOVE his relationship with beel so sweet

Protective 🥰 of everyone! His friends, his family, you!

Not afraid to speak his mind! Love self assurance

Y’all THOUGHT I’d put him sleepy in red flags but NO I love naps so I feel him

RED FLAGS

ALWAYS WHINING

God he has such youngest sibling Syndrom but I can’t really say that when I am also a youngest sibling who also whines all the time HAHA

Kinda mean spirited but that’s our emo Boy for ya

You love him because he’s a lil grumpy guy who’s also adorable

BRB while I ignore these red flags HAHA

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me scenarios #obey me x mc #obey me hcs #lucifer obey me #obey me #om! nightbringer #obey me nightbringer #nightbringer lucifer

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years ago

Text

And I Wouldn’t Marry Me Either

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Synopsis: you release some songs about Tom after a disagreement ends in a breakup

Masterlist

“Marry me.”

“Right now? But I just got comfortable.” Tom mumbled into his pillow with a sleepy smile.

“I’m serious.” You whispered through a laugh and shook his shoulder. Tom’s eyes slowly opened and he could see the blurry outline of you lying next to him in your bed.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking.” You began. “We’ve been together five years.”

“I’m aware.” Tom laughed and snuggled back into his pillow.

“So we should do it. We should get married.” You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him.

“We are married. Everyone knows you’re my girl.” Tom said without opening his eyes and pulled you into his arms. He tried to go back to sleep but you still wanted to talk.

“I know.” You laughed. “But I want to make it official.”

“What, in Gods eyes and all that? I didn’t think you cared about that.” He laughed dismissively and rolled over. You sat up fully in the bed and looked down at him.

“It’s not about that. I want the flowers and the dress and the rings. Don’t you want that?” You asked and shook him a little to clue him in that you were trying to have a serious conversation. You watched Tom shrug and roll onto his back to look up at you.

“I don’t know. I always found weddings kinda dumb.”

“What? What do you mean dumb?” You forced a laugh and tried to hide the disappointment in your tone.

“I mean, like, they’re not even legally binding. It’s this whole big celebration that people spend their life savings on just to get drunk and slid rings on each other fingers. You still have to go to the courthouse to get married and even that’s just a piece of paper.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you felt that way.” You laughed shortly and picked at your nail polish to look busy.

“I didn’t realize you felt a different way.” He said and rolled back onto his stomach. Tom closed his eyes to go back to sleep and you felt your heart sink in your chest. You got out of the bed and opened the curtains a little to distract yourself with the view. You touched the silky white curtains and smiled to yourself as you thought of all the pictures of white dresses you had saved on your Pinterest throughout the years.

“I’ve always dreamed of my wedding.” You said over your shoulder. “I think every little girl does at some point. Every rom com I grew up on ends with the perfect fairy tale wedding. I always wanted that. I wanted my happy ending.”

“But those are just movies. I bet half those couples wouldn’t last in real life.”

“But it’s sweet that they plan that special day together and then get to celebrate their love in front of all their family and friends.”

“Yeah, all that planning just so they can get divorced before the first year is up.” Tom snorted. “I think the whole idea of weddings are stupid. I mean, you spend all that time and money planning for a one day event that people will just attend for the free booze. Plus, women starve themselves for months and spend thousands of dollars on a dress they’ll wear once? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Tom.” You laughed shortly and folded your arms to glare at him. Tom sensed your tone and sat up in bed to pay better attention.

“I just think it’s all so ancient.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised you don’t agree. Weddings cannot exist without all the bullshit sexist traditions. I mean, the white dress to symbolize the brides supposed purity, the father of the bride literally “giving her away” to another man after being asked permission to get engaged in the first place, and then to top it off with her taking his last name because she’s now his property or something. It’s all so trivial and perverse.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. Those traditions may be rooted in old fashioned thinking but I think it’s sweet to ask for my fathers permission. And yeah, I do want my dad holding my hand and walking me down the aisle. He’s not giving me away to be another man’s property, he’s standing by my side as I enter a new chapter of my life. Which is why I want my mama right there on my other side. Plus, lots of people hyphenate their last names nowadays. It doesn’t have to be this monstrous sexism fest you’re making it out to be.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Tom frowned when you shut the door. You usually left it open a crack when you did your morning skincare routine, but today, you were shutting him out. Tom got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to see you. You didn’t look up at him as you washed your face.

“Come on. Are you seriously mad because I dissed your rom coms?” Tom said as he put his hands on your hips and kissed your shoulder.

“I’m not mad about that.” You mumbled and brushed him off.

“Then what are you mad about, sour patch?” He teased and kissed your shoulder again.

“I’m mad because I’ve been getting my nails done weekly leading up to our five year anniversary just in case you proposed and you just told me that’s never even crossed your mind!” You exclaimed as hot tears of embarrassment brimmed your eyes. You stormed out of the bathroom and when Tom processed what you had said, he followed after you.

“I don’t believe in marriage, okay? I think it’s unnecessary. Why can’t we just live like this forever? What’s the difference?”

“The difference is pretty big. But I guess you don’t see it like that.” You shrugged and kept walking away from him.

“Can you honestly tell me what would be different between us if we signed a stupid piece of paper at the courthouse or didn’t?” Tom said as he put his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place for a second.

“The difference is I’d be your wife and not just the pathetic girlfriend who stayed even though you didn’t lock it down.” You raised your voice at him and pushed his hands off of you.

“So you only want to get married because you care what people think? How romantic.” Tom rolled his eyes at you.

“That’s not the only reason. I want to get married because it’s important to me. It’s a public commitment where we promise to love and protect each other forever. I want that.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I don’t need a ceremony to do that. I can promise you that right here.” Tom calmed down and took your hands.

“But that’s not special.” You sighed and withdrew your hands.

“If you don’t find that special then maybe you don’t love me as much as you think you do.” Tom said, immediately regretting it.

“What?” You whispered and looked into his eyes to see if he was serious.

“Look, darling, I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I just don’t see the point in marriage. I don’t need to prove I love you with a ring and wedding. I chose to love you every day. That’s enough for me.”

“What if it’s not enough for me?” You genuinely asked him as you wondered it for yourself.

“Then maybe you need to stop being so shallow and materialistic and ask yourself if you’re with me because you love me or because you want to play out some childhood fantasy that you saw in a stupid movie.” He shouted.

You both instantly got quiet. You were quiet for a very long time.

“I didn’t even mean that.”

“I don’t even care.” Your voice cracked as you grabbed your purse and slammed the front door behind you when you left.

“Is this one okay?” Harrison asked, pulling Tom out of his daydream. He replayed that fight over in his head about a dozen times a day. If his mind wasn’t occupied by something at all times, he’d perform an autopsy on that last conversation with you to try and understand what he should’ve done differently.

“What?” Tom asked without looking at his friend. He was too busy staring at the seat you always used to sit in at the kitchen counter.

“Can I use this one?” Harrison repeated and held up a muted purple mug as the tea kettle went off in the background. Tom tore his eyes away from your chair and when he saw the mug, all he could picture was your lipstick stain that used to stain it.

“That’s Y/n’s mug.” Tom said, descending a chill over the room. Harry and Sam’s attention was caught and they looked at Tom to see where this conversation was going.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll put it back.” Harry said and quickly went to put it back in the cabinet.

“It’s fine. She’s not using it.” Tom shrugged. Everyone looked at each other as the awkwardness became palpable.

“How’s she’s doing?” Sam asked and sipped his tea to seem less interested than he really was.

“She’s good. Shes been recording some stuff at her New York studio. New music and whatnot.” Tom replied. He didn’t know this because you told him. He knew this because he’d been stalking your fanpages for every possible sighting of you.

“Have you guys talked lately?” Harry asked.

“Not really. Not since she left.” Tom admitted without looking up at his friends.

“You guys didn’t break up, did you?” Harrison asked, worsening the icy tension. Tom froze at the question for a minute and then shrugged. He didn’t really know what the answer was. In the weeks you’d been gone, you’d make small talk sometimes about work and the weather, but it never went beyond that. It was more to be polite. You kept in touch enough to know what the other was up to on a weekly basis, but you both knew you were dragging out something that had died. You wanted Tom to just say it was over already instead of pretending everything was normal, but he was never going to do that.

“I don’t know. We left things kinda up in the air.” Tom replied. The boys exchanged glances and Harrison nodded to let them know he was gonna take charge.

“Up in the air?” He questioned.

“Yep. Up in the air. Ambiguous. Vague. Open to interpretation. Call it what you want.” Tom shrugged again like it didn’t matter, but it did.

“Well what was the last thing you said to each other?” Harry wondered.

“She said she needed some space and was going to New York. And I said okay.” Tom recalled.

“What about before that?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the days leading up to her leaving.” Tom replied and took a long sip of his tea.

“She didn’t speak to you?” Sam asked.

“She did.” Tom nodded. “Sometimes.”

“You didn’t speak to her?” Harrison asked, already knowing the answer.

“I didn’t have anything to say.” Tom shrugged. Nobody spoke a word, but all the boys were thinking the same thing. They knew how bad this was, and that it signaled the end of your relationship.

“What?” Tom asked when he noticed the shift in vibe.

“I’m just surprised.” Harrison shrugged. “You guys were never like this. I can’t even remember your last fight.”

“We didn’t fight. You can’t fight when you don’t speak.” Tom said with a sarcastic smile.

“You should call her.” Harry suggested. “It’s gonna be at least a week since she’s been there, right?”

“Four weeks.” Tom corrected without meeting anyone’s else.

“Mate, you gotta call her.” Harry said quietly and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“I can’t.” Tom shook his head.

“Why not?”

“She can’t break up with me if I don’t talk to her. As long as we don’t have that conversation, we’ll still be together.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, Buddy.” Harrison said apologetically. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and looked at his friend with tears brimming his bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t know what else to do.” He said with a crack in his voice.

“Oh shit.” Sam said suddenly, getting everyone’s attention.

“What?” Tom asked.

“She’s dropping a song tonight. She just announced it.” Sam said and showed Tom your Twitter. Tom took Sam’s phone to read your announcement better. Sure enough, you had posted a picture of you dramatically lying across a piano bench with your left hand covering half of your face. You had a ring on every finger except for your ring finger, a detail that wasn’t lost on Tom. He handed Sam’s phone back and look at the floor.

“You didn’t know about this?” Sam asked, and Tom shook his head. He’d gone from being the first person you played every song for to finding out on Twitter that you had a song coming out.

“What’s it called?” Harrison wondered. Sam looked down at his phone to read the title and gulped.

“Who cares?” Sam forced a laugh and put his phone away.

“What’s it called?” Tom asked again.

“You Don’t Know Me Anymore.” Sam mumbled. Tom shut his eyes and hung his head in shame. He hadn’t even heard the song yet but knew it was going to be bad news.

“When does that come out?” He asked Sam.

“Midnight. Tonight.”

Tom’s friends stayed with him all day until midnight rolled around. At 11:58, Tom placed his laptop on the kitchen table and opened YouTube. He knew you always released lyric videos when you dropped a new song and he needed to reach every single world you said. When midnight came, he refreshed his screen and clicked on your video. The background image was a picture of you looking in a mirror with messy hair. You had digitally added sparkly, purple tears to run down the still image of your face. You played a couple notes on the piano before the lyrics appeared beside your face in your handwriting.

“I wish you’d just put me out of my misery

You already know I’m at your mercy

I don’t know why you’re dragging this out

You have all the power, if that’s what this is about

I’m not gonna be the one who walks away

So I need you to say what you want to say

I already know it’s over so just let it end

Please don’t give me the pity of asking to stay friends.”

“I don’t think we should be listening to this.” Sam said as he paused the video.

“Play it.” Tom demanded. Sam sighed and pressed play while the other exchanged looks.

“I’ve been feeling you leaving

I hate this part more than the ending

The moments leading up when I know your heart has changed

I don’t know why we keep pretending

If it’s done just say it’s done

Don’t just change your mind and not tell me

I already know so just let me go

Don’t just watch as I sit and bleed.”

“I don’t think-“ Sam began as he paused it again.

“Stop pausing it.” Tom cut him off. “Play it. I need to hear it.”

Sam pressed play again and Tom pulled the laptop over to himself so he could control it.

“Cause I cut my hand on that first crack in the glass

I feel the icy air between us when you pass me

So I took your chain off from around my neck

I’ll think of something else your initial can stand for

You don’t deserve to see me wearing it anyway

You don’t know me anymore.”

Tom didn’t realize he had started to cry until his tears his his keyboard. He couldn’t see the video anymore from his blurry his eyes had gotten. He wiped his face and leaned on his hands to give the song better attention.

“You know I would die for you in secret

Like that song I showed you in my car

I don’t think you even listened to it

You didn’t draw stars around my scars

You drew your arrow and let it fly

Right into my heart and let me die

Actually, I wish that was the curtesy you provided

Instead, you let this love become one sided

And now we’re shattered like a glass that was dropped

You broke my heart until the day that it stopped

You never got down on knee

Even when I crumbled onto both of mine

I wonder if you ever really wanted me

How did you think we were fine?

And at what part did you realize you liked the idea of me?

But who I actually am isn’t someone you wanted

I miss who I was before we met

Now I can’t go back, I’m haunted

And you were right not to marry me

If I could walk away from me too, I would

You were right to leave when you did

I know I would too if I could

But I’m stuck here with myself

Forever scratching and clawing at your door

Keep it all, even my memories

You’re lucky you don’t know me anymore.”

Everyone sat in silence once the song ended. Tom wiped his eyes again but tears just kept falling down his face.

“That probably wasn’t even about you.” Harrison said after a long beat of silence. Tom gave him a look before turning to his brothers.

“What do you think?” He asked Harry.

“It sounds like she’s hurting too.” Harry shrugged. “I think you’re both waiting for the other to say you’re broken up.”

“Well I’m not saying it.” Tom stated. “She has to.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Sam asked kindly.

“Then we don’t break up.”

“Again, I’m not really sure that’s how it works.”

“Well it’s what I’m going with. Because I can’t break up with her.” Tom sniffled and shut the laptop.

“But you can’t go on like this either.” Sam pointed out.

“She’ll come home when she’s ready.” Tom said, but no one in the room believed him.

And didn’t come home for a while.

After another week of silence, Tom flew to New York to see you. He got to your apartment and knocked on your door without any particular plan in mind. You opened it with a smile but when you saw who it was, you tensed up.

“Hi.” He said with a sad smile.

“If you came to to propose to me as some kind of grand gesture-“

“Please, let me talk.” He cut you off. You sighed and nodded as you leaned against your doorway.

“We have different opinions. But I don’t love or respect anyone more than you. So I am willing to hear your side, which is not something I did last time we spoke about this. I was just listening for what I could rebuttal against. I wasn’t actually listening to understand your thoughts and feelings. But I’m ready now.” He said. You nodded again and seemed to drop the wall that you had put up.

“It matters to me that we get married.” You told him. “I know you think it’s pointless and doesn’t change anything, but it changes things for me. If you picked out a ring, asked my parents permission, and got down on one knee, that would all make me feel special and loved. Those things matter to me in a relationship.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“But now you do know so if you propose, I know you’re just gonna do it to appease me. I’ll always know that you think it’s stupid when I look at the ring.”

“I admit that it found it a little dumb in the past. But it matters to you. And nothing that matters to you can be stupid.”

“I can’t get married to you knowing you don’t really want it. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” You said and went to close the door.

“But I can’t lose you. My thoughts on marriage literally do not matter to me in the slightest. If it’s important to you and if it is what it takes to make you feel special and loved, then I want it too.” Tom pleaded as he pushed your door back open.

“But you don’t want it. You just don’t want to break up.”

“I can put on a tux for a night and suffer through if it means that much to you.” He said with a slight laugh to lighten the mood. Your face changed and he had somehow made the situation worse.

“Suffer?” You asked quietly with a told of your head.

“I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. But darling, I’m saying we can get married. I’ll do whatever it is you want. Why do you still look so upset?”

“Because you don’t get it.” You shook your head. “And I’m afraid you never will.”

“What don’t I get? I don’t understand. I’m telling you I’ll give you what you want.”

“But you don’t want it too. That’s what I’m trying to say. It’s the principle, Tom. Remember how disappointed I was that one time when I said I wanted ice cream so we went to the shop but you didn’t get anything? I didn’t mean I wanted ice cream. I meant I wanted us to get ice cream together so we could eat it and spend time together. This is like that but times a million. You can’t compromise on marriage. You either believe in it or you don’t. So even if we did get married, it wouldn’t mean to you what it means to me. I would always think back to that conversation we had and remember how you really feel about marriage. I keep replaying all the things you said that day in my head. We both know how you feel about marriage and we both know it’s not something you want.”

“So that one conversation ruined it for you? Completely?” He asked.

“Yes, it did.” You answered truthfully. You stared at each other for a minute as both your eyes welled with tears. You both knew you’d reached a stalemate and there was nothing more to be done.

“So what do we do now?” Tom asked without looking at you.

“I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” You told him, making him perk up.

“So do I.” He smiled as tears rolled down his face.

“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked him. Tom froze and felt the situation escaping from him fast.

“We’ve been together almost 5 years, darling. That’s five birthdays, Christmas’s, anniversaries. You make up so much of my life. We’re exactly right for each other. It’s supposed to be you and me in the end. I can’t do this with anyone else.”

“And I can’t do this with you.” You laughed sadly and gestured to him. Tom’s heart dropped in his chest when it became apparent that this was more than just a fight.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I think I am.” You nodded. Neither of you could believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but it was too late to take them back.

“Does marriage really mean that much to you that you’d rather break up instead of just living a long, happy life together?” Tom asked you.

“I guess it does.” You realized. He stood there in shock as you put a hand on his shoulder and brought him closer to kiss his cheek.

“Goodbye, Tom.” You smiled sadly at him and shut your door.

Another month went by and you did not come home. You busied yourself with your music and dove into your next album, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about him on midnights when you were left alone with your thoughts. Tom thought about you a lot more often, like every time he saw your face on his TV. He tuned in one night to watch you debut your latest music video of your newest song. His eyes were glued to the TV as the video opened with your back to some brown eyed actor.

“You say “I don’t understand” and “I say I know you don’t.” We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t.” You sang with your eyes glued to the floor. The setting changed and you were walking through an apartment that Tom recognized.

“She filmed this on Cornelia Street?” Tom whispered to himself and sat back on his couch.

“Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light.” A smiling version of you sang as she walked though the apartment holding the hand of the actor playing Tom. The setting changed again and you were still in the room, but the lights were off and you were sitting alone in the floor.

“Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time.” You sang while not looking in the camera. The rest of the video followed in suit. You flashed between happy, golden hued memories with the actor to grey toned solo shots of you sitting alone at your piano or on the floor. The difference in the moods made Tom reminisce on the old times and he wondered how long it has been since he had made you smile the way you were doing in the video.

“Stop, you’re losing me. Stop, stop, stop. You’re losing me.” You sang while looking directly into the camera as a purple heart monitor line ran through the background behind you and eventually flatlined. Tom felt like you were staring right into his soul and realized this was the closest he’d gotten to making eye contact with you in a while. He watched the sad, grey version of yourself split from the happy version and suddenly, there were two of you on the screen while the actor playing Tom ignored them both.

“How long can we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?” The both of you sang while Tom’s counterpart read the newspaper and didn’t look at either. He thought of the days leading up to you leaving for New York where he’d be doing exactly that, reading the newspaper to pretend to look busy when he felt you glaring at him. He wiped his face and watched as the scene changed to the three of you at a party. The sad version of you was clinging to Tom’s counterpart defensively while the other version of you yelled at him with a drink in your hand.

“Fighting in only your army. Front lines, don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing as this party.” You yelled and drunkenly stumbled around while the rest of the party watched.

“You’re losing me.” The grey version whispered into Tom’s ear. He assumed that version represented the part of you that missed him while the other version represented the you that knew it was over. The scene changed again and this time, you were back in the Cornelia Street apartment with an open ring box in the center of the table. There was no ring inside, just a burning flame.

“And I wouldn’t marry me either. A pathological people pleaser.Who only wanted you to see her.” You said into the camera while Tom’s character threw things into a bag behind you and went to leave.

“And I’m fading thinking do something babe! Say something! Lose something, babe. Risk something. You’re losing me! Chose something, babe. I got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” The grey version of you desperately said to Tom’s counterpart as she pulled on his arm to beg him to stay. It was like he couldn’t see her at all and just kept walking towards the door. The golden version of yourself opened the door and pointed for him to get out while the other version of you jumped in front of him and dropped to her knees to get him to stay. Tom’s character walked right through her and she faded to dust, leaving just the one version of yourself to watch him go. The music stopped and you ended up running after him, but he was already gone. You turned and ran down Cornelia Street but didn’t go back into your apartment. You just kept running down the street and turned the block so that the camera couldn’t see you anymore. The camera panned out to show the Cornelia Street sign and a violin version of your song by the same name played in the background as the street sign turned grey and faded into dust. The screen turned black and Tom was left alone in the silence.

After another month, he found himself outside your door again. He knocked on it and felt his heart pound until you opened it up.

“Tom? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you. I came to fix this.” He said simply.

“Tom, I don’t know that we can fix this.” You said apologetically. It felt amazing to see him, but it didn’t change the fact that you ultimately wanted different things in life.

“You were right. You can’t compromise on marriage. And you either believe in it or you don’t.” He began before getting down on one knee.

“Tom?” You asked skeptically as your eyes went wide. He pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it up for you.

“It’s your moms ring. Your dad gave it to her for the third Valentine’s Day they celebrated together in college. She doesn’t wear it anymore because it’s one size too small, so she gave it to me when I asked them for permission to marry you.”

“You asked them?” You smiled in surprise that he had done one of the things you said mattered to you.

“I did. It was a little awkward to find out your mother already knew all about our previous conversations about marriage so you can probably guess how confused I was.” He said with an embarrassed laugh.

“What did my dad say?”

“He said as long as I make you happy, he’s proud to have me join the family.”

“See? No one’s giving me away to anyone. We’re just creating a bigger family for the two of us.”

“I see that now. I see a lot of the points you made. And what your dad said got me thinking.”

“About?”

“All I want is to make you happy. Which is different from agreeing to things I don’t want to do to appease you. I do want to watch you walk down the aisle in a dress that’s been in your Pinterest board since you were 13. I do want to plan the seating arrangement and introduce my weird friends from college to your weird friends from college. I want to plan the entire thing because that’s something we can do together, and those are my favorite things to do.”

“What about the ceremony? And the marriage license? You don’t want those things.”

“I didn’t at first.” He admitted. “But after actually thinking about it and reevaluating the opinion I formed before I ever even had a serious relationship, I realized I feel differently. You make me feel differently. I would proudly sign my name next to yours on a marriage license. Because I happen to think our names look pretty good together. And as for the ceremony, I know we can’t compromise, but we can collaborate. It doesn’t have to be a huge blowout party. It can be the best elements of the both of us. And we can plan it together.”

“That all sounds very lovely, but it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t believe in marriage just a few months ago. Am I really supposed to believe you’ve truly changed your mind? What if this is just some grand gesture to win me back that you end up regretting?” You asked him.

“I will never end up regretting promising my love for you in front of our family and friends. I’ll never regret hyphenating our names so that everyone knows I’m a part of a duo. I’ll never regret choosing to legally attach myself to my vets friend and spend the rest of my life with her. But I can tell you with the utmost assurance that I would regret letting you walk away and become a name I wince at for the rest of my life.”

“You felt differently not too long ago.” You quietly reminded him. You wanted so badly to believe him, but you couldn’t fully trust it.

“I changed my mind. I realized somethings are more important than other things. And that you’re more important than anything.”

Your skeptical expression turned into a coy smile as you slid your hand into the one that wasn’t holding the open ring box.

“You never actually said the words.” You told him, making Tom break into a relieved smile.

“Darling, would you make me the happiest man-“

“Eh. Try again. Too cliche.” You cut him off. Tom smiled and shook his head, knowing you weren’t gonna make it easy.

“My love, I don’t want to spend another minute as just your boyfriend.” He tried again.

“Lame. Thumbs down.” You shook your head and pointed your thumb down.

“Would you do me the honor-“

“Yawn.” You interrupted.

“Will you just marry me, you annoying brat?” Tom groaned.

“Tom! I thought you’d never ask!” You gushed over dramatically and put your hand over your heart.

“Is that a yes?” Tom asked as he stood up.

“I have to think about it. I don’t know if marriage is for me.” You shrugged as he slid the ring onto your finger. You looked down at the ring and remembered the time you tried it on as a little girl and how it didn’t fit your finger until now.

“Yes. I will marry you.” You smiled as you looked back up at Tom. Tom broke into a grin and scooped you up to spin you around.

“Sorry I wrote all those emo songs about you.” You said into his ear, making him laugh.

“It’s okay. It’s what you do.” He couldn’t stop smiling as he set you down. He then pulled you in for a long kiss to make up for all the time you were apart. When you pulled away, he pulled your face back towards him with his hands to kiss your left cheek.

“I see you.” He said, then kissed you right cheek.

“I choose you.” He continued, then kissed your forehead.

“I love you.” He said, the kissed your nose before looking into your eyes.

“And I know you.” He told you. You smiled softly and nodded your head.

“You do?” You asked him. “You really know me?”

“I do.”

Tag List 🏷️

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@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @fiantomartell

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife

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@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland

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@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you

2K notes · View notes

dontbesoweirdkira · 9 months ago

Note

If you don't mind can I request any yandere you want and see reader in a wedding dress they thought reader was planning a marriage turn out she just like the dress

A/N: BAHAHAHAA this is so funny. Yes of course, im *assuming* you are referring to the MK guys? Just send in another request if not😭😭

Characters: MK1 Johnny Cage, MK11 Kung Lao and MK11 Erron Black as a wild card lol.

Warnings: buffoonery and Johnny Carlton 😖

Requests: always open 24/7

Masterlist

Johnny ca(needs to be arrested asap)ge

Oh boy…why did you have to get this man started?? I'm going to assume you just thrifted a pretty white dress, not realizing it was a wedding dress in the impulsivity of the buy.

When you got back home to try it on, it unexpectedly fit like a glove. Accentuating every nice thing about your body. The lace and embroidered rhinestones made everything just 100 times better. A gorgeous glam dress that you’re sure Johnny would love just as much as you do.

Excited, you waited by the front door for his arrival to show off your new purchase.

Immediately he froze at the doorstep, the sight of you in this little git up took him aback.

You stuck a cute pose and did a full body spin to show him every detail, egarly asking him what he thought.

“Ta-Daaaaa! So, what do ya think? I picked it out at the charity shop down the street. I figured it’d be perfect for a special occasion..”

Girl you are so damn foolish😩 that man is going feral now

Johnny had been playing his obsession very cool this entire time. Only maybe slipping up once but now…???

That “special occasion” is obviously the day you’ll become his wife. What day is more special than that?! He’s so happy that you initiated this first. He’s been wanting to make you his forever since he’s met you and obviously you feel the same way too.

See, you’re perfect for each other! He knew you were the one. Only a bit sad he didn’t realize your feelings sooner or else he would’ve taken you to Vegas months ago.

“When I gave you my credit card to get something nice I didn’t expect for you to buy a wedding dress. I’m not complaining tho~ it was only a matter of time until it happened.”

….what?

You had looked back down at your dress and realized that it did look oddly similar to one…but that was just a coincidence.

You explained to him that no, it wasn’t supposed to be a wedding dress. You had picked it up because of the detailing, you figured it’d be perfect for the next red carpet.

Ohhhhh he sees what you’re doing here. You’re playing dumb, this was only a hint that you wanted him to claim you. He’ll promptly propose. It’s the traditional way of doing things. ;)

You reiterated again, more seriously this time that this was only a dress for his red carpet. Honestly more of an impulse buy if anything. You hadn’t realized what the dress actually was. It was far too soon to get married and you wasn’t even certain if Johnny was who you wanted to be with in the long run.

His vision of you walking down the isle in that snatched, sexy little dress was shattered… for a mere moment he became overwhelmed with sadness. Wha— what do you mean that you’re not sure you want to marry him? Who else would you marry in place of him? You’ve been planning to leave him, haven’t you?..

Quickly that sorrow turned to anger and a side of Johnny you’ve never seen came out to bite.

His eyes were narrow and sinister as he peered down at you, over his expensive sunglasses. His voice was low yet venomously brash.

“Sweetheart—“

“You don’t get to play silly little games like this and get my hopes up for nothing. We’re getting married, there’s no other option better than me. And if you think for a second that you’re going to leave me—heh—-I’ll make your life agonizing.”

Oh..

It wasn’t long after, that he held you down and shoved a ring on your finger…ahem romantically proposed and you were eloped with an insane contractual agreement.

Poor thing…use critical judgment next time you’re out shopping.

Kung lao

You were out at the markets getting some groceries and household items. Normally Kung Lao would accompany you, but after much negotiation, he decided to let you go out alone. He was well familiar with the shopkeepers and locals so there wasn’t much to worry about. And he didn’t fear you being hit on there as everyone in the town knew who you belonged to. Any man who was stupid enough to talk to you was a man who was certainly going to die.

Of course like any woman, after your necessities were brought, you decided to do a bit of window shopping of vendors that were in the area.

Nothing new or interesting caught your attention until an older woman pulled you into her store to show you her selection of dresses. They were all so gorgeously designed and hand crafted, they must’ve taken ages to make.

“I have something very special for you. I think this will make that man of yours very pleased.”

After searching through a few boxes, she found the one she was looking for and displayed it for you. The dress was a striking red with gold embellishments and pleats that were colorfully embroidered.

It was so well done that it almost appeared painted on. It’d kill you to have that dress, even trying it on would be a dream in itself. But sadly, you knew that anything at this level had to be exorbitant in price. There’s no way that you could afford, let alone justify paying for it.

Thanking the shop keeper and complimenting the dress, you shook your head and declined. Explaining to her that this purchase would make you struggle for a couple of months.

The old lady wouldn’t take no for an answer and pushed the box towards you.

“My dear, this one was made for you. I must let you have it, don’t worry about payment. Just make sure I get to see you in it.”

Shocked, you asked a couple of times if she was serious and she was very adamant about you taking it home with you. She winked at you and sent you on your way.

Excited, you rushed home and into your room. Entirely running past your boyfriend in the process to hurried try the dress on.

It was exactly your size. It was almost as if if was made exactly to your measurements. You spun around in the mirror a million times so happy to be able to own something so luxurious.

“Y/N? What’s going on in there?? Are you okay? You didn’t even greet me when you came in.”

Opening the bedroom door you surprised him with the dress.

“Can you believe it, Kung Lao? Some lady at the market gifted this to me. She said it was made for me and insisted that I take it home.”

Yeah…ummm

That “random” lady wasn’t so random. He’d been planning this moment for over a year. He took out half of his savings to purchase it and have it custom built for you. All of your favorite colors and style preferences were put into this. He told the lady that whenever she was finished with it, to give it to you the next time that she sees you.

It was a surprise seeing you in the dress though. He knew you’d look beautiful but not this damn good. All of the details brought out the best in yourself. It wasn’t form fitting as it was a traditional xiuhuefu but it still such a perfect fit on you. He was proud that did exceptionally well in designing this for you.

Acting dumb, he asked many questions like who the lady was and was you sure it was truly for free. So manipulative…

“I guess this is a sign of fate…that we are destined to be married soon.”

Ummmm….what?

You laughed and explained how it was just a traditional dress that you plan to wear at a festival or something. What was he talking about marriage? It’s just a pretty dress right??….right?

Girl—-

He explained that no, it was actually a traditional dress only worn by brides. —And that since you was not only “gifted” it, but that it fit you well must mean that you’re ready to be his bride.

“Oh…no…I had no idea, Lao. I just like the dress, I don’t wanna be married to you.”

Let me take a sip of my drink😪

Immediately his face scrunched up in anger and he backed you into the wall.

“You don’t wanna be married to me?! Don’t you know how much money I spent on this dress? Do you know how many hours that poor old lady spent on this, customizing everything for you? I even tried to make the experience receiving the dress special. And you don’t want to marry me?”

He harshly grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer to his

“You don’t get a choice in this, my precious flower. Any other girl would kill to even be noticed by the great Kung Lao..don’t be such a fool and make this difficult.”

Yeah..we’ll at least your wedding was absolutely massive and filled with tons of yummy foods.

Erron Black

(Yes I know Erron’s mom was crappy but for plot purposes please let’s pretend he lovvveeeed her okay.)

Erron had left you back at home while he took care of some business and agreed to let you go through the attic. It was very very old and cluttered and he couldn’t care less about what you did with most of the stuff. He hasn’t seen most of it since he was a much younger fella anyways.

He told you there might be a few old clothes that were his mothers and sisters and you were free to take anything you’d like. You're about their size anyhow and he’d rather them on you than to be rotting in a box any longer.

You made your way through tons of old nicnacks and relics, it took a few hours of searching to find any of his old childhood things since they were in the faaaar back.

Eventually you found a hefty box that read women’s name on it and brought it back downstairs.

Hats, blouses, skirts and accessories were all in there. Not much that you’d wear since they were all a little dated and too mature for you—but there was one thing that caught your eyes. Something wrapped in dainty floral wrapping paper and tied with a pretty bow.

……Erron did give you permission to open whatever you’d like so I’m sure this wouldn’t hurt him.

Upon carefully unwrapping the delicately wrapped piece, the most gorgeous vintage wedding dress was revealed. Yes it was rather dated like most of the clothes with big puffy sleeves and a high neckline for modesty. Kind of gaudy as well but still an eye catching design nonetheless.

You held it up to your body and it looked like it'd be a perfect fit. This isn’t too surprising, but it fit you rather well. You looked straight out of the 19th century but it was cute, you put your hair up really nice and added some of the accessories from the box to complete the look.

You strutted around the house and pretended to be some snobby rich woman on her wedding day.

“Why yes. The orderves were made by Frederic, the renowned chef and the silk table cloths were imported from across the seas….hohoho.”

In the middle of your play time, Erron walked in and saw you in the dress. He paused and observed you up and down. It seemed as though he was a bit upset by the sight of you.

Maybe it was the wrong choice to put on this dress of all things. This was probably the one thing that was unspokenly off limits.

You quickly try to deescalate the situation and explain yourself. That you just thought the dress was pretty and you wanted to fool around in it. That you didn’t think much of it or that he’d be home so soon.

“I’m not mad, y/n. For a second I got a glimpse of my ma again. This dress is perfect on you.”

You twirled around in place and asked him if he truly thought so.

“I’m as honest as I’d ever be right now. What do you say we go down to the chapel right now?”

Thinking he wasn’t being serious, you laughed and began to take the dress off

“You’re not the marrying type, Erron.”

His demeanor turned from a sentimental bliss to a pissed off cowboy in seconds.

What did you mean he’s not the marrying type? He ain’t no saint but he’s been good to you and planned on being so for a long while.

“What did you mean by that, darlin?”

He stared straight and menacingly at you with his drawing hand on his holster. Your next words better be catious.

“N-nothing. Just figured you weren’t into the marriage thing because neither am I. That’s all.”

That’s all? You think you can just wear his deceased mothers wedding gown without any plans of commitment.

He suddenly pulled out his pistol out of his holster causing you to flinch. He didn’t point it at you but he inspected it before putting in a cartridge that was stored on his other hip.

“Dear, I know I ain’t no romantic but if you think for a second I’d let you walk out of this relationship alive…you must be one dumb broad.”

A chilling smile plastered his face as he pointed it towards you

“So what do ya say? You going to come down to the chapel with me or go have tea with the queen in purgatory? …your choice.”

Of course you had to say yes. That proposal was so…romantic? Hey, at least the priest down at the old chapel prayed over your soul and gave you a cross if you so ever shall need it dealing with a devil like him.

#headcanon #imagines #oneshot #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #mortal kombat 1 #yandere mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #yandere johnny cage #johnny cage headcanons #johnny cage x reader #yandere kung lao #kung lao x reader #kung lao imagine #erron black mk 11 #erron black x reader #yandere erron black #mk fandom #mk 11

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jamespotterismydaddy · 2 years ago

Text

Lord Husband (Chapter 5)

cregan x reader

word count: 1,606 words

series masterlist

A private carriage. You thank the gods for small victories. Being locked in a small box for a month with nobody but Cregan Stark for company would’ve been the thing that pushed you over the edge of insanity. Or, you likely would have killed him.

Perhaps it was more his safety they are concerned over rather than my comfort. You think to yourself.

The preparations for your departure have been immensely extravagant and your mother has already commissioned ten new dresses and five nightgowns just to tie you over until the royal family flies in for the wedding. You’ll spend another whole month courting Cregan (in Winterfell this time) before the ceremony and you don’t know if you want the spectacle to be drawn out more to prolong your unmarried freedom or if you just want it to be over with.

You ignore the thoughts as you make your way down to the courtyard with Baela and Rhaena on each arm and Ser Robert trailing after you.

“I’m going to miss you awfully.” Rhaena says sentimentally.

“You’ll have to write to me with every bit of court gossip. Gods know that the boys won’t do a very good job at keeping me filled in.” You roll your eyes dramatically, trying to keep it all lighthearted.

“You’ll write to us plenty as well, tell us all about the joys of marriage.” Baela says with a little smirk.

“I hardly believe there’ll be many joys to rave about.” You say with a scoff.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. From what i’ve heard, northern men are very good with… their tongues.” The elder twin says scandalously. You think you hear Ser Robert choke on water from behind you.

“Baela!” Rhaena scolds but she giggles too.

“I don’t want his tongue anywhere near me.” You say as you shoot her a glare.

“Then you are as dumb as you are pretty.” You roll your eyes at this.

“His assumed skills don’t matter if I do not like him.” You say primly.

“You don’t have to like him to appreciate the look of him.” Baela says as she lifts a hand to inspect her nails.

“I agree. You know what they say about men with large hands…” Rhaena trails off and you glare at her as well.

“Do not team up against me.” You say.

“We are only trying to help you to look on the bright side. You’ll be with him for the rest of your lives.” Rhaena says softly. It’s a thought that you don’t really want to think about.

“Perhaps after I give him a son, we will become estranged and he will allow me to retire to Dragonstone.” You reply wistfully. The twins exchange a look.

“And what of your son?”

You sigh and say, “Any child I have will be his, not mine.”

“But they will also be Valyrians. They could be dragonriders. They will need a Valyrian to teach them.” Baela says. The idea of a child with a dragon, not knowing its history, not knowing how to care for it, is a sad thought.

“Motherhood is as noble a path as any.” Rhaena says, in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Not if it’s forced.”

There is an awkward silence after that and you feel bad, being the one who caused it. Your closest friends, your sisters, they only wanted to comfort you, to make you excited about the journey and you’ve made them feel bad for trying.

“I do quite like some of the dresses her Grace commissioned for me, though.” You say with a little grin and both of the girls light up.

“Oh yes, they’re all so beautiful. I don't know if I could even pick a favourite.” Rhaena gushes.

“I can.” Baela says. “The deep maroon velvet one. Ugh, the sleeves on it are to die for. It’s far too hot to be wearing such fashion in King’s Landing. We’d be sweltering.” Baela pouts a little at that but then grins. “You’ll be the icon of the North when it comes to gowns.”

“I intend to be the icon of the North when it comes to everything.” You say with a faux level of superiority as you come around to the stairs that go down to the courtyard.

There are many nobles waiting to see you off and Cregan Stark stands right at the front, waiting for you and looking as disgustingly handsome as ever. You ignore him and make your way to the ladies who won’t be accompanying you first, hugging them and trying not to tear up. You hope Cregan is offended by how you brush by him. Then, you reach your siblings. Your goodbyes to your family are short and proper, you’ll see them at the wedding anyhow. Your goodbye with your mother is… tense if nothing else.

You turn to Cregan at this point, knowing that you need to have a public interaction before you get into your carriage. Even if you enjoy being the centre of attention, you don’t want to waste the creation of gossip if you’re not there to see how it all goes down.

Lord Stark bows deeply. “Princess, I am glad to be accompanying you to your new home.”

“I thank you for your protection on the long trip that lies ahead of us.” You say in response, your voice cordial and dripping with charisma.

“It is my honour.” He holds out a hand and you take it, allowing him to help you up the steps, into the carriage. Your two handmaidens follow after you. When the door shuts, you sigh, ready for the long trip to be over already.

~~~

As the trip properly starts, you begin to remember how much you hate carriage rides. Short ones are usually fine but you’ve been sitting in the wheeled contraption for hours now and it's making you awfully dizzy.

“Your Grace? Are you well?” Rose, your handmaiden, speaks up. She looks concerned for your state.

“I am fine. I perhaps just need to rest for a moment.” You say, a bit breathlessly, as you shift to lay down, resting your head in your other handmaiden’s lap.

“Are you sure, princess? You look a little green.” Safia speaks up as she begins to stroke your hair.

“It’s this stupid carriage. And the road for seven hells. How can it be so uneven?” You groan and Safia starts to rub your temples.

“It is awful, I know.” She soothes but her kind words don’t help. You just feel more and more nauseous.

“Oh gods.” You groan.

“Princess, are you going to be sick?” Rose asks, and to your dismay, you believe you are about to be sick.

You nod a little and she stands, banging on the roof. “Stop the carriage!” She calls out to the driver.

Before you’re even fully stopped, Rose pushes open the door and Safia helps you to your feet. You stumble out of the carriage and unceremoniously, onto the grass. You fall to your hands and knees, breathing heavily. You thank the gods when you don’t actually throw up and the churning of your stomach begins to slow with the help of a stationary position and fresh air.

“What is happening? Is the princess alright?”

Oh gods why does he have to see this? You think to yourself as the young Lord Stark’s voice rings through the air.

“The movement of the carriage makes her unwell, my lord.” Safia says.

“Oh of course.” He murmurs and wanders off for a moment. You feel hopeful that he just decided to leave you but he’s back before you know it and kneeling by your side. “Here, eat this.” He says and gives you a gentle smile as he holds out ginger for you.

“Why would I eat tha-” He seems to know that you were going to kick up a fuss so as you are mid-sentence, he puts the piece of ginger in your mouth.

“Chew.” He says simply. Your eyes are wide and you want to refuse but you also don’t necessarily want to spit it out like a spoiled child. So, you apprehensively begin to chew the root, trying not to make a face at the peppery flavour. “Good.” He speaks again. “You’ll feel better now.” You think he looks far too pleased as he stands up in front of you and offers you his hand. You begrudgingly take it and he pulls you up with so much ease that you hardly even had to try and stand.

You brush your skirts off, feeling spiteful even if Cregan just helped you.

He just looked far too smug about it. You assure yourself as you make your way back into your carriage.

Before the door is closed, your betrothed speaks up, “Perhaps I could join you, princess. Just to make sure you’re feeling better.” The smile he gives you is almost sneaky, as if there is some sort of hidden innuendo in there. You feel that he enjoys toying with you.

“That would be terribly improper.” You speak only loud enough for him to hear.

“Yes, of course.” He says but the cheeky grin never fades, even as he walks to his horse.

“Strange.” Rose says. “Most lords would enjoy the comforts of a carriage themselves.”

“Perhaps it would be an excuse to sneak into here.” Safia says scandalously.

“Then he shall be perpetually disappointed.” You say as you settle into your seat.

The procession begins to move again and through all the bumps and uneven roads, and as more time passes, the nausea that plagued you never returns.

taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles

#cregan stark #cregan #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark fic #hotd #lord husband #hotd fic

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livwritesstuff · 10 months ago

Text

inspired by an absolutely insufferable boy-mom skit on tiktok

“I was wrong,” Steve announces as he enters the kitchen, “It would have been better to just go by myself.”

Eddie looks up, eyebrows furrowed, because – A) it's not exactly what he’d expected his husband to say first thing after arriving home from a day spent in the Berkshires at his coworker’s wedding, and B) Steve can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and almost never admits defeat – not for dumb, petty shit, anyways, like how Steve almost didn’t go to the wedding at all because Eddie couldn't go with him until their oldest daughter Moe gallantly volunteered to attend in his wake.

(Which Steve had been goddamn thrilled about too, mostly because he’s hoping if Moe sees enough wedding propaganda, she’ll start thinking about popping the big question to her partner, Gray).

“Not a fun party, I take it?” Eddie asks.

“I had a great time,” Moe shrugs.

“Oh, I know,” Steve replies, “I know you had a damn fantastic afternoon.”

Steve has a tone, and it's the same tone he used when he found out Moe helped her friends password-protect all the Fox News Channels on their WASP-y mom's TVs, the same tone he used when Moe got kicked off the basketball team the same day she received an academic award from the school for having a 5.0 GPA (which, for the record, Eddie didn't even think was possible), the same tone he always uses when Moe stirs up her very specific flavor of trouble. Thing is though – Moe is twenty-three, and while she’s been a menace since day-one, she’s got a more than decent head on her shoulders and a fine-tuned sense of place and time. It’s not exactly like her to cause problems at something as important as a wedding – not without cause anyway.

“I think I’m, like, best friends with the bride now or something,” Moe is saying, and again, Eddie’s brow furrows as he looks back at Steve.

“Wasn’t your coworker the groom?” he asks.

“Yep,” Steve sighs, “Moe got into it with his mother.”

“Oh, god.”

“It had to be done,” Moe nods, “She wore a veil. She was openly complaining about how he danced with his wife – the bride – before he danced with her. She kept getting all worked up because her baby boy was leaving her. She needed to be stopped.”

Eddie had to keep a look of understanding off his face (in solidarity with Steve, obviously), because he’s been a certified girl-dad for over two decades now and he’s had his fair share of encounters with the dreaded boy-mom (a girl-dad’s natural enemy, he’s pretty sure).

“Hon, it was not your job to get involved,” Steve tiredly insists.

“I totally disagree,” Moe replies with another casual shrug, “The maid of honor was trying her best but she clearly needed help. And – I maintain that I pulled my punches. I could’ve spilled wine on her dress, but I didn’t. There’s only one rule at weddings and it’s don’t piss off the bride. The bride thanked me afterwards, so…it was fine.”

"You've got an interesting definition of fine," Steve tells her, "I really think there's an unspoken preserve the peace rule or something that wedding guests shouldn't start shit in the middle of the reception – especially not with anyone in the wedding party."

“Oh, what would you know?” Moe fires back, “You didn’t even have a wedding!”

“And even if we had,” Eddie comments idly, “there wouldn’t have been a mother-of-the-groom present to screw shit up. Hey – people get all up in arms over the bride’s mom and the groom’s mom. What about the dads?”

Moe shrugs.

“I think the bride’s dad was just happy they didn’t do the stupid garter thing,” she says, and she misses the way Eddie’s face falls, his eyes meeting Steve’s over Moe’s head to see he’s got a matching grimace on his face.

#steve is still traumatized from robin and nancy's wedding lol #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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tgmsunmontue · 17 days ago

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You put a ring on a wild thing - 8/? WIP Hangster

Affectionately titled "Drunk Vegas" fic until I gave it the title above.

Explicit Hangster. Drinking, dubious decisions and complete disregard for actual facts.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN

PART EIGHT

He does calm down, listens as Bradley talks about his papers being pulled and how he’d gone the ROTC route and then flight school, met Natasha. So while Bradley might have a lot of connections, might know a lot of people, he’s not actually close with any of them. Not anymore. It doesn’t change the fact that a lot of people know who Bradley is though. Jake’s not sure how he feels about it all. A little sad for Bradley. Relieved for himself. Angry on Bradley’s behalf. Glad that he can offer Bradley his family up on a silver platter, telling him he can’t wait to introduce him to everyone.

He’s given Trace and Javy each other’s contact details, the three of them have a group chat, and the two of them are both trying to share the most embarrassing photos of Bradley. He loves it. Loves having these little glimpses and back stories which he can drop into conversation with Bradley only to hear him cough and splutter and ask him how the fuck he knows he dressed up in drag and sung Man I feel like a woman for a dare one time.

Of course it’s turned on him hard and fast. Javy is a massive traitor, setting up a similar group chat he’s not part of, but which has fucking Tyler feeding Bradley baby photos, along with Javy offering up the dumb shit he did as a teenager and then Trace trying to catch him unaware. He feels attacked from all sides, until Bradley asks if he’s always been cute and he’d just flushed all over, because his husband is a fucking smooth talker.

They’ve talked a lot. He’s heard all about how Bradley feels about losing his dad when he was so young, and then his mom. And god, his mom is going to be an absolute nightmare wanting to mother Bradley, and he warns Bradley as much. Wonders if he should let his mom know in advance so she can get the worst of her mothering out on her grandkids before she meets Bradley. He thinks he’ll wait.

He doesn’t know if you can fall in love with someone who isn’t even physically there. Figures it must be possible because it’s been a couple of months now, daily messages and almost daily phone calls. He likes the way Bradley’s voice goes soft when he’s talking to him, hears the difference when he puts Bradley on speaker and Javy and Natasha are there and they’re all talking over each other. It’s pretty fucking cool and he tells Bradley as such.

“So… we already know we find each other attractive. Found each other on the dance floor easily enough.”

Jake knows now that Bradley remembers a lot more of their fated wedding and evening together than Jake does, and while Bradley has made a comment in passing that he wishes Jake remembered more of it, Jake does remember bits and pieces, and he doesn’t think he’d have gone through with it if he’d been more sober. Clearly Bradley has pretty convincing ways he brought to the table. Or Jake just wanted to sleep with him that badly and some small recess of his brain was convinced he had to be married to him to do so.

“So, what do you like in bed?” Bradley asks him apropos of nothing.

“You don’t remember?” Jake replies with a laugh.

“Baby, we jerked each other off. I managed to get my mouth on you…” Jake groans, because it feels cruel to know that that happened and he cannot remember any of it. “Which in hindsight was probably for the best, because while that was all great I want you to remember the next time we’re in bed together.”

“Confident aren’t you…” Jake mutters, and Bradley’s laugh through the line makes him smile. God he likes making him laugh.

“I mean, you did marry me. Think we know we can hold a decent conversation without falling into bed. But –”

“But I really want to fall into bed with you. Again.”

“Yeah.”

They make a plan for their next leave, which is still three months away, but it’s a definitive date and he knows as the date gets closer he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. They allow a two-day buffer so Jake can pretend he’s not home yet, so they can spend time together with just the two of them. Hannah and Tyler will cover for him.

Then he rings his mom. Knows it's time to face that particular familial music.

“Hey mom… you know how I told you I’ve been dating a guy?” Jake asks, because he’s casually dropped it into conversation a couple of weeks ago, purposely timed when he’d known she was also babysitting Brody and therefore more likely to have split attention.

“Yes! I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Well, I was just wondering if you’d like to meet him?”

“Oh. I, oh, uh, I… we’d love to meet him Jake. Is… it’s serious then?”

Jake huffs out a laugh and looks upward. Glad she can’t see him playing with his wedding ring.

“Yeah… yeah it’s pretty fucking serious.”

“Language…” his mother sighs and Jake laughs, because she keeps trying despite it being a losing battle. Tyler’s language is just as bad unless he’s trying to impress someone or on film. “Okay. Then we’d love to meet him. What’s his name?”

“Bradley.”

“And how long have you been dating?”

“Only a few months,” Jake says, and that’s stretching the truth a little, but he’s already lying about the fact that he’s dating Bradley rather than married to him. “We talk on the phone nearly every day…”

“That’s sweet. Have you met his family? Or is still too early for that?”

“Oh. Uh. No. His… uh…”

“Oh. Oh no. Did they kick him out?”

“What?”

“When he came out. Did they kick him out?”

“Oh. Uh. No. He’s… I don’t know if that would be better or worse. No. His mom and dad are dead. His dad when he was three and his mom when he was twelve.”

“Oh Jake…”

He bites on his lip to stop the bark of laughter at her being so predictable, but he’s glad, because it means she’ll likely already have a massive soft spot for Bradley, and he’d hate for Bradley to have shitty in-laws. His mom will definitely blame the drunken Vegas wedding all on him if she ever finds out.

“So what does he do?”

Relief floods through him and he knows he’s going to be able to answer nearly any question his mom throws his way.

“Oh. Uh. He’s a naval aviator as well.”

“Of course, silly me. That’s obviously where you’d meet someone. Oh. Are you currently deployed together?”

“No, unfortunately. He’s actually in the same squadron as Javy right now. And his best friend is currently in my squad, so that’s kind of nice, getting to know each other’s best friends as well.”

“And what does Javy think of him?”

“Oh, he likes him fine. Actually, can you stop providing Javy and Tyler pictures of me when I was a baby or teenager? They’re showing them to Bradley…”

“Oh! Is that why they keep asking? Oh honey… that’s kind of sweet that they’re both chatting with him.”

“Yeah, it is.”

#You put a ring on a wild thing #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfic

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