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#You deserve to be loved. You deserve to be you. You deserve everything and so much more.
starlostseungmin · 3 days
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husband!minho
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✰ notes: third entry of my husband!skz series and as for who won the poll, it’s minho’s turn!! minor warning: sex is mentioned but nothing happened!! i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33
chan ( lee know ) changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin
Husband Minho who asked, “Will you be the mother of my three kids?” instead of “Will you marry me?” on one random afternoon when you were both playing with his cats at his parents’ house. It served as his proposal and gave you a jingle ball because he didn’t have a ring with him at that time. 
Husband Minho who used to be a tsundere and nonchalant person but later changed into a fully affectionate bunny the moment he fell for you. 
Husband Minho who got emotional during the wedding day but tried to hold his tears back since it was expected that his friends would tease him later. He gave up eventually and cried when you slow danced with him at the reception. 
Husband Minho who teased you a lot but in a loving way. He tends to be a menace sometimes but it wasn’t bad. Your big baby just loves to play with you. 
Husband Minho who pretends to be annoyed when you ask for a kiss but deep inside he wants to smother you with all the love you deserve. Eventually, he couldn’t keep it to himself so he cuddles you with lots and lots of kisses. 
Husband Minho who spoils you with his five Michelin-star cooking skills and serves you high-quality food. He is the happiest when you compliment him and finish everything on your plate. 
Husband Minho who loves to drag you along when he goes camping and offers to take care of everything while you rest. He’d only ask for minor tasks from you to help him. 
Husband Minho who sends you weird selfies and cat pictures when you’re not together and says he misses you with the kids (his cats). 
Husband Minho who listens to your worries and gives constructive criticisms but at the same time he comforts you with the things you need to feel better. 
Husband Minho who loves to encourage you to do the things you want as long as it would benefit him and it’s not illegal. “The heart knows what it wants,” He said. “But let’s not go to jail shall we?”
Husband Minho who lets you burst out in anger while he stood there listening to everything. He’s not the type to baby you every time and will be civil when it comes to arguments knowing who is in the right and wrong. 
Husband Minho who will never allow you to sleep unless everything is resolved. He’d be sorry if it was his fault and be the cutest baby bunny that you can’t resist to forgive. This comes along with cuddles and kisses or makeup sex (if you’re both into it). 
Husband Minho whose love languages are acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation. 
Husband Minho whom you swoon to over and over because of how handsome and cute he is. Never a day you’d miss complimenting him by which he’ll be all red and mushy from being shy. 
Husband Minho who got the interest of touching your butt out of his love and affection. 
Husband Minho who lays on top of you when he sees you lying down on your shared bed the moment he gets home because he’s tired and your presence makes him feel relaxed and secure.  He tends to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 
Husband Minho who is loud and dramatic in the most precious way. 
Husband Minho who never forgets important dates and will throw everything away just to spend time with you. 
Husband Minho who acts like a mother especially when you get sick and is stubborn. 
Husband Minho who is good with kids, and had asked you a few times if you want to have one with him but at the same time he doesn’t want to put pressure on your shoulders. He reassures that he can wait and doesn’t even mind if he spends his lifetime with you alone. 
Husband Minho who feels appreciated and loved when you tell him about the things he means to you and how much you are head over heels for him. 
Husband Minho who gets excited when you give him cat necessities. You wonder that he loves his cats more than you sometimes but he’d say you were equally receiving his love and affection. 
Husband Minho who doesn’t always say he loves you but rather says that you are his getaway from everything. It’s you and him against the world, nothing could replace you as you are his happy place and favorite person. The one who comes second after his cats and knows his priorities but you get the privilege. 
Husband Minho who loves you to the moon and back. 
Husband Minho who treasures you the most and the one he’d put first before everything. 
Husband Minho whom you’ll love for a lifetime, promised to never hurt, never leave, and never break his heart. 
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✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89
©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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mostly-imagines · 2 days
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So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort
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He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.” 
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
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The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
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You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    
Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”
“I’d hope so.”
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Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
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luveline · 2 days
Note
Hi lovely!
I saw you’re looking for Hotch requests and I think I requested one before but I forgot what it is oops.
Could I please have one where Jack calls R mom for the first time and she feels super guilty about it but Hotch is super sweet.
Thanks!
ty for requesting 💞 fem (mom and stepmom!) reader, 1.4k
You’re obsessed with your little baby, but you’d loved Hotch’s son for a long time before you had your own, and you’ve continued to love Jack as your own regardless. If anything, having a baby only cemented that you love him. 
Though you’d never disrespect his mother or what she gave up for him, you’re a parent to Jack. When Hotch is home, Jack is home, and when he isn’t you have Jack four days out of the week anyways, splitting him lovingly with his Aunt Jess. You take care of him and you love to do it; being his stepmother is a gift. You love Jack. 
And he loves to cuddle. 
“Rub my hair,” he demands sleepily, crushed as far into your neck and chest as he can be without pushing his brother out of the way. 
“Say please,” you say, already bringing your hand up where it’s sandwiched behind him to stroke the hair from his eyes. “Like this?” 
“Thank you.” 
He’s pretty much always polite when he’s not tired. Which has little to do with you and everything to do with Haley and Hotch, you’re sure, he’d been a picture of a golden child the day you met him and besides the occasional tantrum or naughty spell, he’s a grateful child. He says thank you for things you want no thanks for, when you towel dry his hair at night for bed, or when you help him into his socks. He once said thank you for a kiss on the cheek, as if it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. 
“You’re welcome,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his brow. “Can I have a little kiss?” 
You kiss his brow when he smiles, letting your eyes flutter closed, nose still pressed to his skin. 
“I love you, mommy,” he says, wrapping his arm around your neck with a sleepy snuffle. 
You struggle to answer. The baby gurgles against your chest.
There has been a lot of mommy talk lately. Hotch is calling you mommy often now that the baby’s born, cutesy stuff like, There’s mommy! when you come back from a shower, or How’s your mom? when he’s home from work and he wants to hold the baby, but he wants to check on you at the same time.
He’s never called you Jack’s mom, but Jack’s six. He was bound to get confused, or to feel new feelings, though you weren’t expecting him to do it right now. 
Eventually, you figure you’ll do what’s best for Jack even if that best isn’t something you deserve. “I love you too, baby.” 
“Are you falling to sleep?” he asks. 
You have arms full of children and Hotch will be home any minute if what he said on the phone is true, so you won’t. “Maybe not yet, but you can sleep if you want to. I’m sure dad will wake you up when he gets home.” 
Jack settles in with the baby. Your promise gives him the solace he needs to sleep.
…What if Hotch is angry? 
You’ll tell him what happened, of course, because you don’t have secrets with each other, and even if you did this is something he’s owed, right? He’s been completely candid with you about everything, how he loved Haley, how he feels he failed her in more ways than her death, and how he loves her still. 
You don’t feel like you’re competing for his loyalty or affection, it’s simply clear that he respects Haley’s memory very strongly. What if you tell him what Jack said, and what you hadn’t said, and he’s furious? 
The door opens downstairs. Hotch calls hello, but with Jack and the baby both sleeping, you stay quiet in fear of waking them. You listen to him do a familiar dance, the click of the safe where he retires his firearms, the rushing water of the faucet as he makes himself a glass of water, and then a second you assume to be for you. 
You shuffle Jack from your chest gently, pulling the baby into the curve of your arm and depositing him with an overabundance of caution into the crib. 
You hurry to the door, finger on your lips, startling your husband on the last stair. 
“I need to talk to you about something,” you whisper. 
He gestures for you to walk back down with him. He’s unperturbed by your worry, two glasses in one hand so he can use the other to feel at your shoulder as you take the stairs in front of him. “What happened?” he whispers. 
“It’s–” You wince, descending the stairs with a distinct sense of nausea. “Can we sit down? I’ll make you something to eat.” 
“I’m fine,” he says, following you to the kitchen, where you sit in adjacent chairs at the dinner table. 
You brace your hands on a placemat. 
He laughs and takes them into his own. “Nothing you tell me is worth all this worrying.” 
“It’s about Jack.” 
His smile fades. “What about him, honey?” 
“We were upstairs… You know how he is, he climbed on top of me and we were cuddling because Noah finally fell asleep, and,” —it’s best to just tell, even if you feel clammy and guilty before you’ve admitted to it— “he called me mommy. I’d never tell him to, I promise.” 
Hotch brings his hands up slowly, yours raising with them where he’s holding your wrists. “What did he say?” 
“He said he loved me. ‘I love you, mommy.’” 
“What did you say?” 
Your grimace is apologetic, eyebrows pinched. “I said I loved him too.” 
“And you’re worried that’s not okay?” You nod. “It sounds to me that he was just telling you how he feels. When you wake him up in the mornings and you tuck him in at night, and you’re the person he goes to when he needs a bandaid, you must feel like his mother.” 
“But I’m not.” 
“No.” His dark eyes are relaxed, his brow only a shade of its usual downturn. “Haley is his mother, and she’d love how you treat him. He will always, always know who his mother is. But if he wants to call you mom, a woman who loves him and looks after him with the same tenderness as you do your own, then I think that’s okay, especially with Noah getting older… How do you feel about it?” 
“I love him.” 
He does that silly smile where he’s more happy than he’ll admit to, leaning forward, pressing your hands to his arm and then his lips. “He loves you,” he says. 
Hotch stands and offers a hug. When you take it, he sways you from side to side. “She really would’ve liked you, honey. It was me who let her down.” 
“But her baby calling me mom…”
“I know. It’s a conflicting feeling.” 
You let out a big sigh and slouch in his arms. You’re warm butter under his touch. He reacts accordingly, bending and cupping the back of your neck. 
“It felt awesome,” you confess. He might as well know. After the remorse, you were happy. Jack must really love you. 
“You’re very, very good to him. Just let him love you however he wants to, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget who his mother was, and how much she loved him.” 
You wouldn’t let Jack forget her either. 
Hotch leans away to dot a kiss to your cheek before he hugs you again. “How are they? The boys?” 
“Sleeping. Waiting for you to come home and wake them up. Maybe please don’t wake up Noah, he might sleep through the night tonight if we leave him alone.” 
“I won’t. I’ll see him in the morning.” His smile is audible. “I’m a little jealous, I think. Jack hardly ever says he loves me first.” 
“You clearly don’t cuddle enough.” 
“That,” he says, giving your hip a squeeze, “is a low blow. But I’ll allow it.” 
“You’ll allow it?” 
Another adoring sweep of his arms on your back. “You can say what you want,” he amends. “Thank you for taking care of things while I was gone.” 
He doesn’t need to say thank you, you’re a family, but you appreciate the gesture. “You’re welcome, handsome.” 
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miley1442111 · 3 days
Text
choices and meetings- a.donaldson
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
i'll probably do a few more parts of this because it's just so cute and sad :(
summary: the first conversation you two have after the break-up.
pairing: art donaldson x reader
warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, etc. +
PART 1: before his choice PART 2: choices and chances
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It had been 4 weeks since the break up. Both of you were miserable but you wouldn’t tell the other. There was no ‘hot guy from your science class’ that you were fucking, you just wanted to make him jealous. 
It did make him jealous. Very jealous. Just the idea of you being with someone else made his skin crawl. He’d essentially gone to every guy in that class to threaten to kill them if they even looked at you, he didn’t care if you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he just needed some more time. He just needed you.
The only time you two interacted was during tennis sessions. You were being coached by the same person, so he made you do matches against each other. The last 4 weeks had been full of electrifying matches, often ending in Art smashing a racket or you stalking off in anger. 
But you were both playing so well. So, so well.
The matches were difficult and finally challenging. Art had never played so well, he was almost at your level, and even beat you a few times. Though, you were usually better. 
Once the rackets were packed away and you both left the court, it was like a scene in a romcom. Both of you wishing for the other, crying alone over one another, and wanting everything to be different. You regretted breaking up with him, but you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. His forgetfulness, his carelessness, his choices. He regretted breaking your heart. He missed you, your smile, your jokes, your laughs, your pretty face, your cute habits, your hands on his skin, the way you loved him, how he felt loved and wanted. Some things he’d never felt before. You were his first serious relationship, his first love, his first everything.
It came to the day of your final match against Serena O’Brien, an English tennis player. You were ready, you felt good. 
Then you looked into the crowd and saw Art, and everything went to shit. Your mind was clouded, you felt sick, you felt betrayed. Seeing him at school was one thing, that was controlled, you knew you’d see him at school. Seeing him here? Uncontrolled, unknown, and unfair.
You set your sights on the ball. The match started. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “That was some real tennis!” Your coach shouted, ecstatic at your win. The match was hard fought but she didn’t exactly have a chance, not when you were imagining the ball as Art’s face. 
“Thanks,” you smiled, though there was no happiness behind it, no pride in your win. Art walked onto the court behind him, an apologetic smile on his face. Art had noticed your changing habits in recent weeks as he tried to win you back. You were more irritable, less ‘there’, you ate less, you trained more, you stopped doing some of the things you actually enjoyed, like the literature class you just sat in on every Tuesday afternoon, or the cat nursery you used to volunteer at. 
But today, today he had a plan. He would speak to you, tell you he loved you and that he was sorry, then let you go. It’s what you deserved. You deserved someone who didn’t pick anyone else over you. You deserved someone as smart as you. You deserved someone as beautiful as you. You deserved someone as kind as you. You deserved someone as caring as you. You deserved an equal. Art did not see himself as equal to you. 
“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, walking onto the court. “You’re incredible.”
Your face fell. You didn’t want him to think your tennis was ‘incredible’, you wanted him to think you were incredible. “Thank you.”
“Can we talk?” He asked, itching the back of his neck and looking down.
“Sure,” you shrugged. All your anger had left the second you shut the door in his face. It was replaced by hurt and sadness. Feeling like you’re not your boyfriend’s priority is awful. Knowing who his priority actually is was worse. 
Art took your hand tentatively, and led you to the room you’d sat in before the match. He sat on a stack of boxes as you leant against the door beside him. His hand in yours made both of you reminiscent, electrified, and sad, all at the same time. His soft hands felt comfortable, familiar, right. 
Your hand in his felt blasphemous. You were so… perfect, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve this conservation, he didn’t deserve a moment of your time, yet you gave him it. He didn’t want to ruin it, 
There was a long moment of silence. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he held your hand. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s ok Art, people break up-”
“We don’t. We shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let it happen, I love you too much for that,” he sniffled and your heart broke in two. Your boy, your sweet, kind Art was crying. 
“I’m such an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. He was trying to keep it together, but he’d never been good at hiding things when it came to you. Your thumb brushed back and forth on his skin, calming him. It made him cry all the harder, you were so caring, he’d hurt you so much, so deeply. And yet, you showed him a kindness he didn’t believe he deserved. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” 
“Art it just wasn’t working,” you sighed. “It’s alright. It’s no one’s fault.”
“It’s my fault,” He looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes, tears spilling from them. You took your hand and cupped his cheek, wiping them away. He leaned into your touch as if he'd missed it for an eternity. As if  he’d missed you for an eternity. Your hand on his cheek burned straight to his heart. Subconsciously he tried to commit the feeling to memory, in case this was the last time. “It’s all my fault.”
“You can’t beat yourself up about it. What we had was so good for so long. It just… there was too much going on, something had to give,” You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the tears falling from your eyes. The devastated expression on his face broke you. “I love you so much Art, but I’m hurt. So are you. You’ll be alright.” 
Art looked at you again and he started sobbing into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist. You looked up, attempting to preserve your composure. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into your side. “I love you so much. I love you so, so much.”
“I love you too much,” you croaked out. “You’re such a good person.”
That made Art cry harder. You still thought he was a good person after he hurt you. You still thought he deserved your love. You still loved him. You were comforting him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. It was all his fault. He was horrible to you, he was a bad boyfriend. 
“I miss you,” you whispered and his heart stopped. His plan was going awfully. You were too kind, too good for him. You should’ve hated him, yet you didn’t.
“I miss you too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. 
“This sucks,” you sadly chuckled as you allowed the tears to roll down your face. 
“It does,” he whispered against you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s alright Art. We’re still friends, we’ll take care of each other, yeah?” You looked down at him and made eye contact. 
“Promise?” He whispered, holding his pinky finger up.
“Promise,” You whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I’m always here for you.”
“I love you,” he stood up beside you, closer than he probably should’ve been. His hands wrapped around your waist and out of pure instinct, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He tasted like salty tears. You wiped his face again, a sad smile on your face. 
“We’re here for each other,” you swore. 
“Always.”
You opened the door behind you and walked out, making it the second hardest thing you’d even done, right after breaking up with him. 
He fell back into his seat, crying silently into his hands, chest heaving, eyes spilling, throat drying. 
He just made it 1000 times worse for himself, and you.
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art donaldson masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader
Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…
Credit to micksradio
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It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?
You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.
For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.
Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.
You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.
Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.
You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then
"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.
"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.
Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world
You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.
You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.
Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.
I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me
One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.
"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.
"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.
"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.
"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.
"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.
You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.
Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!
But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.
Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.
And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.
I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know
"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.
He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.
"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.
He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.
But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong
The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.
He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.
It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.
And god you loved him for those attributes.
You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day
He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.
But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.
He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.
And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.
He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.
You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.
Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.
But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.
And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.
But ... now wasn't the right time.
You would always take your Whiskey neat.
And Lando ...
Well.
He was far too sweet.
Taglist:
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moonsaver · 2 days
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Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;
He's manipulative, obviously.
But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.
So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.
Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.
However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.
Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.
A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.
Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)
Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.
You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.
You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.
The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.
Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.
And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.
The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.
Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..
Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..
Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..
Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?
Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?
Oh...ogh. . My heart.
Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.
I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy
Particularly because it seems so healthy
If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.
I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.
I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.
Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.
His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.
Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"
Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.
Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy
So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.
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sterredem · 2 days
Text
The eras tour
Charles leclerc x reader
[SMAU]
Face claim gracie abrams (again)
Summary going to Paris night 1 with Charles is a lot of fun, with a lot of surprises.
Word count -
Warning hate (just a few comments), spelling errors, not proofread
A/N saw a post saying someone should make this… so I did! I saw the tour on a crappie live stream so I know what was going on… I will also go to the tour!
It’s not the longest but also not the shortest. But I like it!
Also I had no motivation to make the things I am currently making so I decided to make a quick smau (that’s why it is only insta and no other apps)
Don’t forget to comment, repost and give feedback! It helps a lot!
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Instagram
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Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 225.839 others
Yourusername me rn cause I NEED Taylor Swift tickets but ticketmaster is the worst😭 also creds to my bf for these pics, he is laughing at me while I am STRESSING @Charles_Leclerc
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Charles_Leclerc I said that I’m sorry! I even helped you!
Yourusername YOU DIDNT DO ENOUGH!! I STILL HAVE NO TICKETS!😢
Charles_Leclerc I promise I will make it up to you
Lilymhe For which show are you trying? I have tickets for New Jersey and there is still a spare one!
Yourusername I AM SO IN LOVE WITH YOU! I tried Paris but I was last in the waiting list so there where no more tickets🙁 and sadly I can’t go to the US one’s liked by lilymhe
User1 you’re so real for crying I’ve the tickets. I did too
Yourusername THATS WHAT I SAID! BUT CHARLES JUST LAUGHED AT ME!
User1 you deserve the tickets babe liked by author
User2 Love the memes
User3 is that Leo?!?! Hes so cute!
Yourusername That is! He was my emotional support!
User4 ticketmaster is the villain fr! I was at the beginning and I could almost buy tickets but then u was kicker out!
Yourusername My villain origin story fr! And that’s the wort!
User5 love the hat
User6 you are still so pretty when you cry! How?!?!
Yourusername THANKS! IDK HOW I JUST HIDE MY SADNESS
User 6 HAHAHA REAL
User7 it really is hell! But I got tickets!
Yourusername Congratulations my love!
User8 charles laughing at you is so funny😂
User9 Ew you’re so cringe
User10 I love you
User11 not the pic creds and shade HAHAHA
User12 not her public account being her posting memes😂
User13 don’t understand why Charles is with you
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Instagram
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Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 392.728 others
Yourusername MY BF GOT ME ERAS TOUR TICKETS!!! I LOVE YOU CHARLIE! Eras tour Paris night 1 here I come!!
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Charles_Leclerc Everything for you mon amour. Even if I need to spend hundreds of dollars for VIP tickets to the eras tour
Yourusername I am beginning to love you more and more
Lilymhe OMG I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!
Yourusername I AM ALSO SO HAPPY!
User1 OMG AMAZING
User2 THE T-SHIRTS? IN LOVE! WHERE DIS YOU GET THEM?
Yourusername They are from the official merch drop from Taylor! I have been a mega fan from the beginning!
User3 OKAY CHARLES UPGRADED TO AN AMAZING BF
User4 even vip?!?! You are spoiled!
User5 I AM ALSO GOING TO PART NIGHT 1!
User6 Will you make friendship brackets? I am also going and want to trade some with you!
Yourusername I will! I would love to trade with y’all!
User7 SO EXITED FOR YOU!
User8 What did Charles say when you got it?
Yourusername he said ‘I have a surprise for you!’ And then he gave me a bag with the box! And then I started crying!
User9 you already have merch? How?!
Yourusername Lily went and got me the shirt!
Uset10 My favourite WAG going to a concert of my favourite artist? Amazing!
User11 with who are you going?
Yourusername Charles is going with me!
User12 so exited to see all the eras content!
User13 Such an attention seeker!
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Yourusername Congrats on P4 my love! AND TTPD IS SO GOOD! A DOUBLE ALBUM WTF?!?! And here are some of my paddock fits😁 ALSO WHAT ABOUT THE TOUR?!
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Charle_Leclerc Mon chéri… how sweet(?)
Yourusername It is! I am just so exited about Taylor!
Lilymhe YOURE SO RIGHT! I am so jealous that you get to see the first show after the new album!
Yourusername There are always live streams! And she will go to the US again!
User1 HAHAHAH
User2 so real
User3 I love that she can’t post without mentioning Taylor Swift or her Boyfriend! It shows dedication!
User4 Not the Alchemy😂
User5 you’re so pretty!
User6 the two sides? So funny!🤣
User7 I AM FREEKING OUT!
Yourusername SAME
User8 love the fits!
Yourusername Thanks!
User9 the TTPD aesthetic! Loving it!
User10 awwww Leo is so cute!
User11 Could you tell us where you get your clothes from? I love your style!
Yourusername Of course! My most recent posts have the links with them! (Reels from insta and TikTok)
User12 Thank you! You are amazing!
User13 I love how obsessed she is with TS!
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Yourusername I had a lovely time at the eras tour! Thank you for the very kind people behind me that send me the pics of me and Charles! ALSO THE NEW SETLIST?!?! More pics coming soon!
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Charles_Leclerc for the information; Y/n was crying… a lot
Yourusername YOU VANT BLAME ME! SHE CHANGED A LOT!
Lilymhe I AM SO JELOUS! Liked by author
User1 AHHH I AM SO GSBRNEBDU
User2 OMD THE COUPLE PICS?!?! SO CUTE!
User3 love the taytay pics!
User4 YOURE OUTFIT JS SO CUTE!
User5 Love the hat!
User6 MORE PICS?!
User7 THE NEW SETLIST IS SO COOL!
User8 I WAS THE ONE THAT TOOK THE PIC!
Yourusername THANK YOU SO MUCH!
User9 I tradet with her! She was so nice! And Charles study stood there looking a big lost!
User10 WHAT DID YOU GET?!
Yourusername A fan of Charlie gave me the gift!
User11 Se exited to go myself!
User12 you’re so cute!
User13 You’re not even pretty
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Liked by Taylorswift and 1.737.837 others
Yourusername Everyone meet my new friend; Taylor Swift! It was absolutely lovely meeting you! And thank you for the invites😉
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Taylorswift It really was amazing to meet you! I’m glad you enjoyed everything! Liked by author
Charles_Leclerc Finnaly I don’t have to keep this a secret anymore!
Yourusername yeah you’re not the best secret keeper
Charles_Leclerc EXUSE ME?!
Lilymhe WHAT? AND YIU DIDNT TELL ME?!
Yourusername IM SORRY I WANTED IT TO BE A SUPRISE!
User1 OMG SO HAPPPY FOR YOU
User2 THE MIST GORGOYS GIRLS TOGETHER!
User3 YOU MET HER?
User4 WHAT INVITES?!?!
Yourusername 🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫
User5 THIS IS SO ICONIC!
User6 LILY AND CHARLES HAHAHHA
User7 So this are the other pics?!?!!!
User8 What happens in the 5th pic??
Yourusername I had a mental breakdown…
User9 not the y/n mansplaining to Taylor’s how max for it with Charles🤣🤣
User10 You are living the dream!
User11 THE NEW SETLIST AND MEETING TATLOR?!?! IM JELOUS!
User12 NEW TAYTAY CONTENT YAY!
User13 You don’t deserve it!
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csmtmra · 1 day
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𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 & 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑
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Poe fell first and harder. he would be in love the second he saw you, staring at you from underneath his hair and quickly looking away everytime you made a sudden movement, only to glance back up and start the process all over again. he would watch from afar, taking in your essence as if it was the last time he would see you. he loved you with every being in his person.
Ranpo wouldn’t fall first or harder. he loves you, so much don’t get me wrong, but he is just too childish to love harder. he falls for you with puppy love, while you fall for him with deep, absolute love, that’s also why you fall first. you realize your feelings for him and realize how much you truly adore him as a person. he would fall for you because he loves how you love him, he’d fall for you a little while after realizing you fell for him, it would totally go to his head and make him feel so egotistical, boasting about how loved he is.
Dazai falls harder, you fall first. he would take note on how sweet you always were with him. the way you’d smile while watching him, and how you’d always leave little notes on his desk, pretty scribbled handwriting, leaving precious words on the paper he cherishes so much. he wouldn’t even realize how much you being in his life means to him until he notices you shying away from him. notes slowly starting to disappear, you leaving the room when he would walk in, gaze immediately leaving his handsome face when he’d try to meet your eyes. only realizing after having a long conversation with ranpo that you’ve fallen for him. he’d be ecstatic, finally understanding his own feelings for you and deciding to leave a note of his own on your pristine desk the next morning.
Chuuya fell first and harder. this man is such a romantic, he would be so enamored by you from the beginning. he would be leaving you flowers everyday on your doorstep, and taking time out of his day to swing past your place, all to make sure that you’re okay. he would call you early in the morning to tell you to have a good day and that he’s thinking of you, calling late at night to ask about your day and tell you how amazing he thinks you are. he would stop at nothing to make sure you felt the happiness you deserve, he would lose himself and the worlds peace in the process if he needed to.
Akutagawa wouldn’t fall first but he would definitely fall harder. he has such a soft soul, but he has so many walls around his heart it would take a long time for him to finally be content with loving you to the full extent. it would take so much patience and love for him to feel like he can exist as something other than rashōmon to you, but once he gets there, you would be the most important thing to him. he would love you as if you moved the sun and stars yourself, admiring everything you do with the love you worked so hard to receive from him.
Fyodor wouldn’t fall first or harder. fyodor is a toxic man. he wouldn’t fall at all. he would tolerate you, he may grow to love you, but in his own sense of the word. he loves how you obey him so blindly out of your own love, you are a pawn to him, as is everyone in his life, being with him doesn’t give you a pass. if it came down to it, he would sacrifice you for his ideal world. he would grow used to your presence and affection, rarely would he openly reciprocate the affection. he may every so often give you and ounce of his own twisted love but he would take a whole lot more of yours.
Sigma fell first and harder. he loves you. in every essence of the word. he loves how you love. he loves how you sleep, how you breathe, how you exist. falling for you is as easy as waking up in the morning to him. no matter how much you love him, it will never compare to the absolute devotion this man will give to you. he would stop breathing if you so much as asked him. he would only know his love for you, and that’s all he wants to know.
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xianyoon · 1 day
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you're not that bad of a study partner
xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader studying with them. romantic fluff. reupload from my previous blog ; @.i23kazu.
[ ♡ ] xiao
he's the one who has the noise-cancellation headphones, blacklisted apps activated kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – he doesn't even get texts from his parents – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! admittedly, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even for the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student? only one way to find out.
[ ♡ ] diluc
possibly the class rep and one of the harder ones to get close to. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – diluc genuinely believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.
[ ♡ ] kaeya
the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– of course you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm so sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away gently with his thumbs – a true gentleman owns up to his mistakes. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.
[ ♡ ] childe
he's the study partner friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do for him, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. he takes out his wallet from his pocket and grins at you. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.
[ ♡ ] wriothesley
wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of warm chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night.
[ ♡ ] lyney
the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare a moment too long catches his eye, and he immediately jumps into doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back to look at his own work with a smile.
[ ♡ ] alhaitham
alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your tear-soaked papers, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead. "please believe in yourself just as i believe in you." he utters softly. you've never seen alhaitham act so tenderly before.
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fayeraa · 2 days
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DOMESTIC FLUFF WITH… -multichars!
prompt : just a morning with you man
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.ᐟ- fluff, fluffy, sappy shit, flufflflflufufyfyfyfy, just needed it.
.ᐟ- not gendered | recommended to listen to 📻
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10:53 • sleep-in
YESTERDAY drained you and your husband. it was a long and tiring day, that deserved a good day off. the wind was hitting the bay window harshly, beckoning an upcoming storm, but now, there was no time for concern when you were nuzzled deeply into your man’s neck, towered by heavy winter blankets. untroubled snoring oozed from him, whereas your chest rose up and down to your breath rhythm.
gently ,calloused hands rake in the tufts of your scattered hair, softly brushing them away. the man beside you started to shift on his bed side, lazily opening his eyes.
he seems a bit groggy from last night, his brows are furrowed hard and his face looking sullen. the expression is progressively fading away letting a way more pleasant mien, whilst he’s stretching his arms and yawning, resigning himself to start the day.
-morning, dear.
his husky voice floats up to your ears, like a melody, despite the bitter tone of the morning, nearly putting you back to sleep.
-mhh, morning.
you respond with no effort, exhaustion taking up on you, and somewhat find a way to stretch in turn, in order to overtake the wearisome feeling.
he can feel it. how worn-out you seem to be, and take it as a cue to take care of his honey today. no matter how much he is too. he always end up pampering you, claiming he owe you one because of your sheer presence, fulfilling him with glee. it’s his turn now.
in a hefty motion, he heaves up, sweeps away the rumpled blanket, and finally set a foot on the floor. he foretold you wouldn’t immediately wake up after him, at least, that you would like to spend some more free time in bed, but he got everything set for the day, hoping it will lift up your spirits.
in one or two strides, he reaches your side and sidles next to your frame, and bring a hand to your forehead, giving it a few affectionate strokes, earning a sigh from you. he moves up to your forearm, tracing a straight path of tenderness, getting your skin freckled by goosebumps.
you shift your head up to him, and crack a lazy smile, your half-lidded eyes now opening fully.
-it’s gonna be a tough day, mh? you state, grabbing your man’s hand to intertwine your fingers with his.
-who said that, love ? don’t be so negative and let’s get prepared. does that sounds good ?
a radient expression clears your previous defeated one, and then, a chortle spills past his lips.
the downpour is still pattering on the window, only growing harder and the blanket is now dangling off the bed corners, the half littered on the floor.
with ease, he lifts you up by slipping his arm underneath your calves and the other supporting your back, leaving you unprotected from the wintery blast plastered on the room walls.
but quickly, the warm returns, held fondly in a such more comforting place.
- alright, let’s start the day, hun’.
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NANAMI, Hiromi, Suguru • jjk | Shanks, Rosinante, IZOU, Smoker, Ace • op | Leon Kennedy • re.
reblogs are welcome <3 and remember : my box is open for blurbs and suggestions
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Text
Second Chance
Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Summary: Reader and Cassian have been friends for centuries, but nobody knows that she’s in love with him. Eventually she meets her mate in the market, but when he breaks her heart, Cassian is there to pick up the pieces, and offer her a second chance at love.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 4.5k
Cassian snickered as he landed on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath him. 
You grunted, “Okay, you win. Get off.”
He cocked his head, grinning. “I don’t know, this is pretty comfy.”
“You’ve proven your point,” you groaned, your head throbbing from hitting it on the ground of the training ring on top of the House. You tried to wiggle out from under him, but it was no use. He was massive, and your body was rendered utterly immobile. 
After another torturous moment, Cassian stood up, offering you his hand. He hoisted you up to your feet and you groaned again. 
“What were you saying about being able to beat me one-on-one?” he smirked. 
You just scowled at him and his smile spread further. He clapped you on the back. You winced at the impact. “Go get some water.”
Normally you would say something snarky about following orders, but your head was still spinning a bit, so you did as you were told without argument. 
You must have looked pretty awful because after a few minutes, Cassian knelt in front of where you sat on the bench, his eyes searching yours. “You okay?”
Nodding as you gulped down more water, you mumbled, “Mmhmm.”
His brow furrowed as he gently felt the back of your head, feeling the growing bump there. “Shit,” he said. “I didn't mean to pin you down that hard. Sorry.”
You shrugged, smiling faintly at your friend. “I knew I couldn’t beat you. It’s my own fault.”
He lightly brushed the hair that had come out of your braid off your face. You pushed down the swell in your chest, as you always did. “I think it’s time for the cool down,” he said, his eyes raking your sweaty, tired body. 
Your eyes widened. “You, the legendary commander of the Illyrian armies, are going to cut training short because you knocked me on my ass?” 
“Only for you,” he winked, offering you his hand again. “Don’t tell anyone.”
You took it, and followed Cassian as he guided you through the stretches. 
This had been your routine for a while. You had been in Rhysand’s inner circle for the last few centuries, and had found your home and family with them. Pretty quickly, you knew you wanted to be useful for more than just your mind, so you had asked Cassian to train you. You had started out at the Illyrian camps, but the way the males there treated you was…unsettling, to say the least. And it made Cassian angrier than you had ever seen him. So now you trained on the top of the House, sometimes accompanied by others, but often it was just the two of you. 
Training with him nearly every day for centuries had brought the two of you very close together. He was definitely the best friend you had ever had. He was your favorite person in the world. The two of you talked about everything.
Well, almost everything.
Even after all this time, butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you watched him, how his muscles stretched and bulged, his brow furrowed in concentration, his tanned skin gleaming with sweat in the morning sun. 
You had been in love with him for a very, very long time.
Frankly, it sucked being in love with your best friend. Your best friend, who flirted shamelessly with nearly everybody, who had a body even the gods were surely jealous of. Who was so kind and good and brave that nobody could ever compare. 
Especially not you.
That was the main problem, really. Why you had never said anything. You knew you could never deserve him, no matter how long you lived. He was legendary. Literally. He was strong, fearless, and so, so kind. And not to harp on this too much but, that body. Compared to him, you were entirely insignificant and you always would be.
So, you suffered in silence. Loved him from afar. And waited for the Mother or the Cauldron or whoever it was that was in charge of your fate and your mate to get their act together.
“What’s running through that pretty head of yours?” Cassian said, glancing over at you.
You reigned in your scowl. Centuries of friendship made it extremely easy for him to read you like a book. “I’m debating whether I hate you for pinning me to the ground like it was nothing, or if I love you for cutting training short,” you said, breathless as you continued to follow him through the stretches. 
He smirked. “Oh, please. You know you love me.”
Rolling your eyes goodnaturedly you grumbled, “Yeah, I know.”
If only he knew. 
---
Inner circle meetings these days were about twenty percent important business, and eighty percent goofing off. 
You loved it.
Seated between Azriel and Amren, with Cassian across from you, you grinned as the warrior picked a fight with Amren.
Azriel and you exchanged amused glances, both knowing that Cassian had never won against Amren, and he certainly wouldn’t start today. 
After they had been squabbling for quite some time about something that you honestly weren’t paying super close attention to, Amren turned to you, snarling, “Can you please tell him he’s a fool?”
Cassian sat back in his chair, clutching his chest, making a great show of being offended.
“Why me?” you asked. 
“He actually listens to you,” Amren said, pointedly raising an eyebrow.
You snorted. “He does not.”
Azriel cut in, smiling faintly. “He does. More than the rest of us, anyway.”
You glanced at Cassian, who just smirked back at you. “What can I say? She’s obviously the smartest one here.”
This, of course, started a whole new round of insults from Amren that left Cassian chuckling to himself, his eyes sparkling as he gazed at you through the entire barrage of Amren’s insults.
Later, you and Cassian were lounging in the sitting room at the House of Wind, after everyone else had wandered off home or gone to bed. 
You were laying down on the couch, reading a book. Cassian was sitting at the far end of said couch, your feet in his lap while he read up on war strategies. 
It was only a matter of time before the romance novel that you were reading got… steamy. 
Cassian immediately noticed the shift in your scent and threw his head back laughing. “Why do you read smut in front of people?”
You kicked his chest lightly, which only made him laugh more. “It’s not like I know when the smutty scenes are going to happen!”
“This one really got to you, huh?” he said, noticing the blush that had risen to your cheeks.
Before you could stop him, he lunged for you, grabbing your book and wrenching it from your hands.
“Noo!” you shrieked, and covered your face in embarrassment as he read aloud.
“His weight on top of me was nearly enough for me to come undone,” he said in a deep, sultry voice. “I couldn’t focus on anything but the power and command in his movements as he grasped both my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the bed above my head.”
You couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed for the book, but he was faster and caught you as you moved toward him. His arm wrapped around your waist and he spun you, pinning you to the couch, his weight holding you down for the second time that day.
But, this time was… different. Your bodies were completely flush together, every inch of you touching him. His hair tickled your neck as he looked down at you, your faces a fraction away from each other. 
The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, breathing hard. You could smell it on him too now, the lust. In this moment, he wanted you. You knew he did. Heat went through you in a wave.
And he knew it. 
“This is what you’re into, huh?” he said huskily.
You glared at him, but you knew the lust was still shining in your eyes. 
He smirked. “Is that why you baited me during training today? You wanted to feel me on top of you?”
Yes. “No!” You scowled, pushing his shoulders, but he didn’t move. “I baited you because I wanted to see how long I would last.”
Cassian’s smirk turned positively wolfish, his eyes gleaming in a way you’d never seen before.
You groaned, realizing what you just said. “Not like that.” You pushed against him again. “Get off of me, Cassian!”
He dipped his head lower, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Are you sure you want me to?” he said, his voice low, sultry. You could hardly breathe.
No, of course I don’t want you to. I want to stay here forever and ever.
“Yes,” you ground out. 
His lips darted to your lips for the briefest moment before he pushed off of you, sitting on his knees. After a moment, he handed the book to you. 
“I hate you,” you mumbled.
He smirked. “No, you don’t.”
You couldn’t stop your small smile. “No, I don’t.”
---
For days, you felt rattled by what happened that night. Cassian, of course, seemed relaxed as ever, but you felt yourself blush every time you were around him.
You were in the market, your thoughts lost in Cassian as usual, when someone across the street caught your eye.
He was beautiful. The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome. You felt drawn to him in a way you had never felt before, not even with Cassian.
You stopped in your tracks, unable to take your eyes off him.
After a few moments, he looked up and your eyes met.
And you felt it.
The mating bond that snapped into place. That tethered you permanently to this stranger.
And judging from the look in his eyes, he felt it too.
The stranger made his way over to you, his eyes not wavering from yours.
“Hi,” he said when he was in front of you, like he was in a daze.
“Hi,” you said. “You… felt that too, right?”
He nodded. “I never knew what they meant… what it was supposed to feel like…” he trailed off, just staring at you. “I'm Adonis.”
You introduced yourself and didn't know what to do next. For centuries, you had dreamed of the day that you'd meet your mate. But secretly, you had been waiting for the bond to snap into place with Cassian. You hadn't thought about what you would do if it turned out to be a random stranger.
“Do you… want to go for a walk?” Adonis said, clearly equally unsure of what one was supposed to do upon meeting their mate.
You agreed. And just like that, you were getting to know your mate.
---
You found Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian all in Rhysand's study at the river house. They looked at you questioningly as you walked in.
“Are you okay?” Cassian asked, his voice soft, the way it always was when he was worried about you. “You look… weird.”
“I met my mate today,” you said quietly.
Feyre and Rhysand looked ecstatic. Cassian, though, went perfectly still, his skin turning slightly pale.
“What happened? Who is he?” Feyre asked, her eyes wide in excitement.
You shrugged, briefly explaining how you and Adonis met.
“What's he like?” Rhys asked. “Do you like him?”
“I think so?” You said, noticing how Cassian was still as a statue. “I don't know, it's weird. I feel this tug towards him but I don't know anything about him! I mean, he seems… nice.”
Cassian finally unfroze, to look incredulously at you. “Nice?” He repeated. “That's it? Your mate is nice?”
“We went on a walk and yes, he seems nice,” you blanched, feeling like you should defend your mate but not sure how.
Your friends just stared at you, clearly underwhelmed by your declaration.
“What do I do now?” You asked nobody in particular.
“You keep getting to know him,” Rhys said, lovingly wrapping an arm around Feyre. 
You glanced at Cassian, who suddenly seemed very interested in the carpet.
“Okay,” you said. 
Really, what else could you do?
---
Your relationship with Cassian had felt off ever since you and Adonis had started to get to know each other better.
He still trained you every day, but where he used to be bantering and joking around with you, he was now all business, keeping his physical distance from you. 
It was confusing, having to grapple with your ancient feelings for him and these new blooming ones for your mate. 
After a few weeks of weirdness, you finally snapped. “Did I do something to upset you?” You asked as both of you stretched after a particularly grueling workout.
“No,” he grunted. “Why?”
“You've been acting weird for weeks.”
He glanced at you, his eyes guarded. “No, I haven't.”
“Yes you have, Cass. You've barely talked to me,” you tried to hide the pain in your voice. You didn't want him to know how deeply this ran.
Cassian sighed, pausing his stretching to face you, look you in the eye. “You’re right, I'm sorry. I just… I'm sad, I guess. I've been your number one for centuries and now…” he pushed his hair out of his face. “Things are different now.”
You took a step toward him, your heart cracking. “Is that what you think? Cassian, no matter who my mate is, you'll always be my best friend. And… I could really use my best friend right now.”
Guilt clouded his expression. “I'm sorry. I've been a shitty friend,” he said quietly, moving forward and wrapping you in a tight bear hug. “Are you okay?”
Sighing with relief, leaning into his touch, you said, “I don't know. I'm really excited, obviously, that I finally found him. And I do like him. But I'm also… scared.”
He pulled back to look you in the eye. “Scared? Why?”
“What if he doesn't like me?” You asked quietly. You hadn't been able to voice your fears to anybody else. 
Cassian’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would you even think that? Who wouldn't like you?”
I can think of at least one person, you thought, but shoved it down.
You shrugged, not sure what to say.
He murmured your name, moving to gently hold your face in his hands. “He'd be insane to not like you. I mean it.”
Warmth spread through you at his touch, the softness in his voice. “Thanks, Cassian,” you murmured.
Cassian kissed your forehead, then pulled you back into a crushing hug. “Anytime.”
---
Your gut was a bundle of nerves as you met with Adonis again. The two of you had been getting to know each other for the last few weeks, and while you didn't yet feel an electric shock, you were thrilled to have found your mate.
When Adonis showed up though, your nerves only got worse. The look on his face could only mean that he was about to deliver bad news.
The two of you made your way through awkward small talk until he braced his forearms on the table in front of him, and you knew he was about to get down to business.
“So, look. I know we're mates, and I do feel that bond between us, but I can't help but think that maybe the Cauldron was wrong,” he said casually, as if he were telling you it was going to rain later.
Your heart completely plummeted. You tried to maintain your breathing, keep your voice even. “Why do you think that?”
“The attraction’s just not there,” he said matter of factly.
Mind spinning, you repeated, “the… attraction?”
He nodded, like it was obvious.
“You're saying, you think the Cauldron was wrong… because you're not attracted to me.”
“Yes! I'm so glad you get it,” he smiled.
You just looked at him incredulously. “You're serious?”
“Yes?” He raised his eyebrow in question.
“So, you're… you're rejecting the bond?”
“I think that would be best. Don't you?”
You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your rising fury locked down. “With the way you're acting right now? Actually, yes, I do think it would be best. You're a terrible person,” you stated, determined to keep your tears from falling until you could make it home.
His eyes narrowed, glaring at you.
And right then, you felt it. Despite your anger, it was still painful to have the bond rejected. It felt like you were being torn apart from the inside out, ripping your very being to shreds.
You gripped the table, centuries of training your body and your mind was the only thing that kept you from crying out as the bond broke.
Adonis felt it too, you knew, because he had gone pale as a ghost, his body trembling slightly. 
When the pain had subsided enough, you pushed away from the table, walking home without a backwards glance.
---
You were supposed to meet Cassian for dinner at the House, but you couldn't bear it. You went to your own apartment instead, laying in your bed in the fetal position for what was probably hours, tears streaming down your cheeks until your head was pounding and your eyes were burning.
It was awful, this feeling. How could he be your mate? How could someone like that be who the Mother wanted you with?
Would you never be good enough for anyone? 
And now your hopes of finding a mate were gone forever. Everyone knew that you only got one chance, one mate.
Why did yours have to be so awful?
A knock on your door roused you from your spiraling thoughts.
You just groaned, knowing that Cassian could hear it.
The door opened and you heard his heavy footsteps as he found you in your bed.
He grimaced as soon as he saw the state of you, his eyes flooding with concern. Instantly he was by your side, kneeling in front of you, holding your hand. “What is it?” He asked, his voice soft despite the tautness of his body.
Your voice came out as barely more than a croak. “He rejected the bond.”
Cassian's rage was palpable, filling the room. “What?”
Ashamed, you hid your face in your pillows. You couldn't tell him why. Didn't have the words in you, and you didn't want him to know how much it hurt.
He swore under his breath, then crawled into bed with you, gingerly wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathed in the scent of him. It almost broke your heart even more, knowing he would never feel for you what you felt for him.
His fingers drew small, soothing circles on your back for a long moment until he broke the silence again. “What happened?” He said quietly.
It was a long time before you could answer. But you knew that if you could tell anyone in the world, it would be him. “He's not attracted to me,” you whispered.
Cassian's entire body tensed, his grip on you tightening. “He said that?” He said with lethal calm.
“He did,” you croaked as another tear slid down your cheek.
“I'm going to slaughter him,” he growled, his body trembling as he sat up, taking you with him. “I'm going to rip his skin off his bones--”
He had moved you so you were straddling him, your hands on his shoulders. “No, you won't,” you said gently.
“Why shouldn't I?” He spat, his eyes dark, his hands gripping your waist so hard, it would surely leave a bruise.
“It wouldn't solve anything,” you said sadly. 
Cassian buried his hand in the hair at the back of your head, forcing you to hold his gaze. “You listen to me. He is wrong. He is awful. You are so beautiful. You are so strong and kind and incredible. Do not let him get to you, okay? This is his loss, not yours,” he said, his eyes locked on yours, alight with so much emotion, your eyes welled with tears again.
He pursed his lips, his eyes softening as he pulled you into him again. You cried into his chest. “Why would the Mother do this to me? Why would she choose him?”
“I don't know,” he said sadly, running his hands through your hair gently. “I don't know. Maybe she made a mistake.”
You sniffed. “I don’t know what to do.” 
He kissed your head softly. “You lean on the people who love you. And then you try to move on.”
You cried even harder, and he held you and held you until your sobs diminished and you drifted off to sleep.
---
Cassian barely left your side in the following weeks, his hands always on you, comforting you. Even when he had to go to the Illyrian mountains, he brought you with him. 
It always did something to you, seeing him in command of all those soldiers. His face stern, his body rigid, barking orders at everyone. Despite all the awful things that had happened recently, it still made your toes curl in your boots. 
But even you could only brave the cold for so long to watch Cassian be in command, so you eventually wandered into Rhysand’s mother’s house, a roaring fire already ablaze when you arrived. 
You sat in front of it, warming your hands, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. 
Weeks after the disastrous meeting with your mate, you were finally starting to feel like yourself again, like other things in life mattered more than the jerk who hurt you.
It was mostly Cassian’s steady, comforting presence that had helped you return to yourself, his relentless insistence that you keep up with your training, that you don’t break your routine no matter how much your heart hurt. 
Cassian had been what was keeping you together for a long time, you realized. 
It was this thought that he interrupted, swinging the door open loudly, the snow billowing in behind him. After he had closed the door behind him, you heard his heavy footfalls stop dead in their tracks behind you.
You turned to look at him in confusion, and then you felt it. 
A bond snapped into place. 
A bond that somehow, after all this time, linked you to Cassian.
Your heart began pounding in your chest, your head spinning. “What--”
Before you could finish the thought, he was on top of you, pinning you to the ground, his lips on yours. You always forgot how quickly he could move, how he could be across the room in the blink of an eye with ease.
A moan sounded from you involuntarily as he cupped your cheek gently with his rough hand, his other on the floor next to your head, keeping some of his body weight off you so you wouldn’t be crushed. This seemed to spur him on even more, his tongue delving into your mouth immediately after you had opened your mouth to him. 
“I knew it,” he groaned, kissing your cheeks, your neck, “I knew it should’ve been me.” 
“Cassian,” you gasped, unable to process what was happening, what he just said--
He growled, kissing you again deeply, rocking his hips against yours.
You hated yourself for doing it, especially since you had been dreaming of this very moment for centuries, but you also needed a moment to think, to process. 
“Cassian, wait,” you said breathlessly, putting your hand on his chest. 
He halted immediately, pulling back to hover over you. “I’m sorry-”
“No, it’s okay,” you said, smiling to reassure him. He was breathing hard, his eyes locked on yours, trying to decipher if he had done something wrong, you knew. “I mean -- we should definitely continue that later, I just… I don’t understand.”
Cassian rose from on top of you, sitting up. You followed, sitting up to face him. “We’re mates,” he said with a soft smile, his eyes shining. “You and me,” he shook his head in disbelief. 
“I thought you could only have one mate? I thought that was it…” you trailed off, unable to form the words.
He shrugged, grinning. “I guess the Mother decided to give you another chance.”
All you could do was stare at him in disbelief. 
Cassian was actually your mate. Cassian.
His brow furrowed, his expression flooding with fear. “Are you upset?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. You gazed at him, at your beautiful, incredible mate. “Cassian, I’ve been in love with you for centuries. I’ve never been happier in my life.”
He made a choking sound. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
You bit your lip, pondering how much to tell him. He took your hand in his, scooching closer, hanging on your answer. Finally you leveled your gaze with his. “I don’t deserve you.”
His face contorted in anger then, a look that had never been directed at you before. “Why would you ever think that?”
Incredulously, you gestured to him. “Are you kidding? Look at you! You’re the commander of the Illyrian armies, they’ve literally written about your war tactics in the history books, you’re one of six people in centuries to actually reach Ramiel, you’re so kind and good and--”
Cassian’s lips were on yours before you could continue. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I love you so much.” 
Your heart melted at his words and at his touch. After a few moments, he pulled back to look at you again. “Never say that you’re not good enough ever again. You’ve been in Rhysand's inner circle for centuries for a reason. How do you not see how incredible you are?” 
All you could get out was, “You love me?”
He laughed, the deep sound practically bouncing off the walls, before his expression softened, gazing at you lovingly. “Of course I love you. I was acting so weird after you met Adonis because I had never been so fucking jealous in my life,” he said quietly, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wished that you were mine for a long, long time.” 
You launched yourself at him and he was ready for you, wrapping his arms around you tightly as you kissed him. He laughed against your mouth, holding your body against his. 
Soon, you were completely tangled together, losing yourselves in each other.
Hours later, you were laying on the floor in front of the fire, your legs entwined together, your head on Cassian's chest, his arms around you. 
“After all this time,” you murmured, lost in the memories of all your lonely nights, now knowing that Cassian had felt the same way you did.
He kissed the top of your head. “I'm just glad the Mother finally helped us get together,” he chuckled.
“Me too,” you agreed. “We owe her a lot.”
“We owe her everything,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss you again. 
You snuggled closer into him, relishing the thought that you would never again be alone.
@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar
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slut4thebroken · 1 day
Text
The Recipe
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader
Summary | Emmett can’t keep his hands off you.
Warnings | Smut, praise, degradation, semi rough sex, breeding, cunnilingus, huuuge housewife kink, he’s very possessive but we love it
Words | 2k
Notes | Finally posting something 😭
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
More of these two
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moodboard @liliesdiary
“That smells amazing, doll, what is it?” He walked over and gave you a quick kiss before finally setting down his bag, then taking off his jacket and hat. 
“I’m trying to recreate that one pasta dish we had when we went to that fancy place a few months ago cause I keep craving it.” You smiled, keeping your focus on the stove. He did his best to stay out of your way in the small kitchen as he walked past you to get to the fridge and grab a beer. 
“Fuck- and this dress.” He groaned. You heard a can open, then he was walking closer and smacking your ass. You had to bite your lip to control your sounds, not wanting to get distracted and mess up the meal when you were finally almost done making it. “I didn’t forget a date, did I?” He wrapped his arm around your stomach and nuzzled into your neck, teasingly kissing over it. 
“No.” You chuckled. “I got lunch with Evelyn earlier.” You could practically feel the pout on his lips against your neck. 
“You went out wearing this without me? All of the guys were probably all over you.” He grumbled. 
“Emmett, this town is tiny. Everyone knows we’re married.” 
“As if that’d stop them.” He scoffed, even though it seemed like he also knew he was being a little irrational. 
“Go wash up. I should be done in a few minutes.” He groaned and tightened his grip around you, beginning to kiss your neck more enthusiastically. “Emmett..” You warned, making him huff but step away to go do what you said. 
Once the table was set, you filled up two plates and set them down, then grabbed your own drink as Emmett walked back in. Dinner was mostly uneventful. He told you about work, you told him about the gossip that Evelyn shared with you. He told you about his latest idea for how to improve the house, you told him he had to finish his current project before starting a new one. 
“How was it?” You asked, taking both plates to the sink. 
“Amazing, doll. Tasted exactly like the  restaurant’s.” 
You scoffed a laugh, hearing him chuckle quietly. “You’re a shit liar.” 
“It was still good either way.” 
“Do you want to do the dishes or should I?” You and Emmmett had a system; either one person cooked and the other cleaned, or one person cooked and cleaned and the other did the same the next day.
“I think I’ll make that steak you got, so you go ahead.” He said, knowing that you didn’t know how to clean a grill. “Plus I want to watch you in that dress.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke. 
“I don’t know why I married such a pervert.” You scoffed teasingly as you put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher before starting to handwash the larger dishes. 
“I do.” He paused, walking right up behind you. “Cause you like it. You like that I can’t keep my hands off you.” He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back so your ass was pressed firmly against the bulge in his jeans. 
“Emmett, let me finish the dishes, then we can move on to that.” You chuckled, still trying to wash everything. 
“I’m not stopping you.” He said simply. His hands dragged down the outsides of your thighs, then back up, pushing the fabric of your dress up to your waist. “Fuck…” He groaned, roughly groping the globes of your ass that were left bare because of your lace thong. You bit your lip and tried to stay focused, but it was getting increasingly more difficult. 
“Are you gonna be a good little wife and let me use you?” He smirked, quickly opening his jeans to remove his already half hard cock. 
“Emmett…” You said through a breath. You couldn’t tell if you were begging him to keep going or warning him to stop though.
“C’mon, baby. I deserve to fuck my girl after a long day of work.” You cursed under your breath and let your head drop down as you held onto the counter. “Do the dishes.” He chastised teasingly. He waited until you continued, then slid your panties to the side and lined up. 
Your knees buckled and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan when he finally pushed in. “Fuck,” You choked out. The stretch was a little uncomfortable, especially in this position, but you were mewling and pushing your hips back into his regardless. 
“Do the dishes.” He said firmly, placing a sharp smack on your ass. “I won’t tell you again.” You let out a low moan at the dominance in his voice. As soon as you continued washing, he was slowly dragging out and pushing back in. Your legs were already shaking and your breathing was already fast and uneven as you tried to cope with the overwhelming pleasure. 
“You make such a perfect little housewife.” He murmured, brushing your hair over one shoulder so he could start kissing the side of your neck. He left marks up and down, his grip tightening on your hips almost painfully. “Cook and clean for me… take my cock whenever I want… You'll even give me some kids when I ask, won’t you?” You sobbed out a moan and let your head fall back on his shoulder. He slapped the side of your thigh, making you whimper loudly at the sting. “Don’t make me tell you again.” He growled. 
With a whine, you lifted your head again and resumed washing. Honestly you were doing a shit job and you’d probably have to do it again once he was done with you. 
“So obedient.” He cooed, gently nipping at your neck. You knew he was just saying all of this for the sake of the scene— Emmett can be old fashioned, but he’s not that old fashioned. Regardless, the longer his cock stayed buried inside you, the more you didn’t mind being his housewife and cock sleeve. 
You almost dropped the pot into the sink when he suddenly sped up. But finally, you finished rinsing the last of the dishes and set it on the towel you laid out earlier. 
“Good girl.” Pulling you to a clear space on the counter, he pushed you down with a hand on the back of your neck and started wildly bucking into you. You almost screamed from the intensity, already feeling your legs turning to jelly, making it harder to hold yourself up. 
Desperately needing to come, you tried to push a hand down to rub your clit, but he twisted your arm behind your back and pinned it there. “If you want to touch my property, you fucking ask.” He growled, his voice only making you needier. 
“Please let me come, Emmett.” You whimpered. He lifted his hand from your neck and brought it down hard on your ass, making you cry out. Without giving any other response, he grabbed your hip as his thrusts grew even more frantic. You could tell he was getting close, especially with the way his sounds started getting louder, and you almost cried at the thought of not getting to come. But… the thought of being nothing more than a submissive housewife and a hole for your husband to use was hot enough that you almost didn’t care. 
You mewled and squirmed a little, making his grip on your body tighten even more. “Please.” You gasped out. His balls were just barely smacking your clit with each thrust, not giving you nearly enough stimulation. Both hands were on your hips now as he bucked into you at a brutal pace, chasing his orgasm. The slapping of skin and both of your moans echoed throughout the kitchen and if you were less horny, you probably would’ve been embarrassed by the faint squelching sound you could hear as your arousal continued to soak his cock. 
His hips stuttered and you whined when he suddenly slammed into you, pushing you into the counter almost painfully as he fell over the edge. Your legs were shaking with each pump of his hips as he lazily fucked his load deep inside your eager pussy. He was grunting and panting against your neck, holding your hips in a bruising grip until he rode out his orgasm completely. 
“Good girl.” He groaned breathily, making you whine again. Only after he caught his breath did he lean up and slowly drag his hips back, making the trembling of your legs even worse. He kicked your feet apart and grabbed your ass to pull you open so he could watch his come trickle out of your puffy folds. 
“Emmett.” You whimpered, but all he did was shush you quietly. Your hips flinched when he dragged his thumb through your slit and he cursed under his breath at the sight of you leaking his come. 
“Oh, look at that.” He cooed, making you blush. “This is how you should’ve gone out today; wearing this slutty little dress with my come dripping down your thighs to remind you who you belong to.” He gruffed. 
“Emmett, please.” You were on the verge of a tantrum now. 
“Shh… It’s okay.” He murmured quietly, standing back up. He pulled you up by your hair and spun you around, then captured your lips in a bruising kiss. “Is my good girl gonna let me have my dessert now?” You nodded dumbly, not really processing his words because you just hoped that agreeing to whatever he said would get him to finally give you some much needed relief. He smirked in amusement, then effortlessly lifted you up so your legs were around his hips, letting him carry you over to the table and gently set you down on it. 
Kneeling between your legs, he wasted no time diving in and sucking on your clit, making you cry out. Your hands settled in his hair and he alternated between lapping up your shared arousal and giving attention to your clit. When he draped your legs over his shoulders and then pulled you closer, you moaned loudly and laid down on the table, your back arching up from the pleasure. Emmett let out a low, gravelly moan against you, making you mewl and tug on his hair even harder. 
“Fuck— Please don’t stop..” You choked out. He devoured you like a man starved, quickly bringing you back to the edge with his enthusiasm. The loud slurping sounds that you could hear through your moans, had you blushing and whining in embarrassment. 
Your legs were trembling on either side of his head, the coil in your stomach was tightening, your moans were getting louder… and Emmett just held your hips down, continuing on, not deterred by any of your reactions. 
“Please let me come.” You whimpered, moaning loudly when he sucked on your clit repeatedly. His lack of a response only made you even more frustrated. Emmett was a little unpredictable about letting you come. Sometimes he didn’t care, but sometimes he could be really controlling over your orgasm, only letting you come after he gave you permission. Ever since the first time you came without permission, you’ve always been hesitant, not wanting to risk being punished. “Emmett, please!”  
He chuckled against you, making your hips jerk against his mouth. “Come.” He mumbled, not bothering to pause or pull away so he could talk. When you finally got his permission, you let the pleasure wash over you, no longer trying to suppress it. The knot of arousal in your stomach snapped suddenly and you sobbed out a moan as your back arched off the table. You had a death grip on Emmett’s hair and your hips were practically grinding on his face, but he worked you through it, not stopping until you were twitching and whining from overstimulation. 
“Good girl.” He groaned, placing one last kiss on your clit. “C’mere, doll.” He helped pull you up into a seated position, then kissed you again, much softer this time. You moaned at the taste of yourself still on his tongue. “Fuck, I love you.” He muttered into the kiss, making you blush a little. “But the next time you go out wearing this dress without my come dripping down your thighs, you won’t be coming for a week.” 
Guys pls give me ideas for a different title lol
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kvrokasaa · 3 days
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omg i was js thinking abt timeskip kaiser, a renowed pro football player, attending some celebrity event and seeing his mother there SKDJEK 🫨 can you plspls make it a short angsty(?) story w a happy ending pls our boy deserves it :(
take care <3
I tried to make it as angsty as I could, but I probably just made a comfort fic, I'm sorry!
Cw: mention of food, mentions of mother's leaving, kaiser being sad, crying, comfort, angst(?), happy ending, comforting kaiser helps cope with the recent chapter :(, not proofread, 1.5k words
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“I seriously don’t know how you do it,” you whisper over to Kaiser, your voice trailing off to a quiet giggle. A smile reaches his face when he hears your giggle, you never fail to brighten his mood. “Do what, meine liebe?” He questions, the pet name rolls off his tongue with such ease, that you’re sure he practices saying it every day.
“I don’t know how you manage to attend these events and functions all the time. It’s my first time and it’s so tiring already,” you hum, grabbing a strawberry covered in chocolate. “At least there’s good food,” you finish. 
Kaiser snorts quietly. That’s what got you to come in the first place. He almost begged you to come with him, but every time he asked he was met with your quick ‘no.’ So, like the man he is, he went to underhanded tactics. He promised to get you good food, and promised that there’ll be really good food there.
You’re thankful that he didn’t lie.
“It’s about keeping up with appearances, meine liebe.” His arm circles around your waist when he sees some nobody looking at you with obvious intentions. “Do you think if I didn’t blow so much money on these stupid things people would still respect me? No. I have to come to these to show people that I’m richer and better than they will ever be.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes. But would it really be Kaiser if he didn’t say something super egotistical?
He chuckles when he sees how close you are to rolling your eyes. Although most of his words were false, some of them were true. If he didn’t come to these and spend so much money, people would not respect him. The world truly is in his hands.
“Okay you goof, I have to use the restroom,” you pressed your hands against his chest as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. “Make sure to stuff some of that food into my purse when I’m gone.” You joked.
Kaiser followed you with his eyes while you walked to the end of the ridiculously big room for the bathroom. His eyes show everything, especially his love and adoration for you. He laughs a little as he turns his attention back to the speaker. 
But something catches his eye. A slightly tall woman, with blond hair but almost gray now, no. That’s not what makes Kaiser freeze in his spot, that’s not what makes his heart beat ten times faster. It’s the unmistakable red eyeliner. 
Anyone could apply red eyeliner, he tries to reason with himself. Kaiser tries his best to divert his attention back to the speaker, but his eyes cannot seem to leave the woman. His gaze must have alerted the woman because the next second she is looking around for the person.
And when her eyes fall on him, he immediately panics. No way in hell. She can not be here. He must be hallucinating or something. He needs air, fresh air. Why can’t he breathe? 
Kaiser leaves the mansion as quickly as possible, trying to get away from the stuffy crowd. But just his luck, she follows him out. 
“My son, I have been looking for you.”
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You leave the bathroom, with your disgust intensified. Why are rich people so weird? Couldn’t that couple have gone home? Who in their right mind would be doing that during a fundraiser? 
A sigh escapes your lips as you make your way to the crowd, ready to tell Kaiser what you just witnessed. 
But when you get back to the table of food, he’s gone. You swear that he wouldn’t just leave you, and he would’ve texted you if he moved somewhere else. Maybe he had gone to the restroom too?
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After searching for a little, you end up spotting his blonde and blue hair. But you see a person standing if front of him and he isn’t moving at all. Your brows furrow in a quizzical manner, who is that?
“No.” You hear him say, it was more of a demand than anything. “You’re lying.” The woman in front of him shakes her head, a soft expression on her face. “You may think that, but we both know it’s not true.” She opens her arms, her hands awaiting his shoulders as to pull him into her embrace. 
“It’s me, your mother.” Your eyes widen, why is she here? Why did she decide to come back now of all times?
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” your tone is soft while you look at Michael, a worried expression on your face. “But Michael and I should really be going.” “Who are you?” Her soft expression never falls, almost like she got it implanted onto her face. But you can see the truth, the deception, the root of her lies. She’s only here for the spotlight. She wants to be seen as his mother, as his savior. But you know that she will only ruin him. She will only make him fall deeper into the black hole.
“Oh, I’m guessing you haven’t seen the news,” you start. You look at Michael’s mother, your soft expression immediately faltering. “I’m Michael’s fiancee. It’s very nice to meet you.” You give her a fake soft smile. You don’t want to seem too rude, but you know kindness with a person like this will only lead to your ruin.
“Ah, I thought you were his chafure. You seem awfully-” “Stop.” She turns her attention back to Michael, her faux softness resurfacing. “My dear, you seem tired. Why don’t we-” “No.” He can’t get his head around this whole situation. Why has she come back? Why did she choose now to come back? Does she want money, is that it? Maybe she just wants to be seen with him. Maybe she needs her acting career back and the only way she can get noticed is with Michael.
But he doesn’t want any of that. He tried so hard to look for her, and now she shows up out of nowhere. 
Michael feels like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. 
His mom tries to reach out again, but Michael is too preoccupied to notice. So, you step in, your body in the middle of both of them. Your glare is icy, never relenting when you see his mother’s expression falter. She seems to be caught up in her own little world. Does she not know the damage she created? How dare she walk back into his life like he owes her everything.
No, she owes him everything.
“I don’t know you, but I know of you. I know what kind of person you are and it’s fucking disgusting.” Your tone is sharp as if laced with venom, and it cuts right through her little facade. You can see the second her fake kindness leaves, and you’re left with the disgust and hatred that Kaiser should have. 
“You are not allowed to walk back into Michael’s life when it’s convenient for you. You don’t get to do that. That’s not fair to him at all. 
Do you know how many times he’s tried to find you? You don’t, do you? He’s tried almost his entire life to find you, to find some sort of comfort in his mother. But you left him. You left a child all by himself with someone neither of you could’ve trusted. 
Do you know the first thing he said to me when I first hugged him? He thanked me. He thanked me for being there, for letting him breathe. He has constant thoughts that I’m going to leave him because of your mistakes.
And if you’re a good mother, if you truly missed him, you would’ve reached out in the past and apologized for everything. But you didn’t.
So no. I’m sorry, but not. You do not get to walk back into Michael’s life right now. He can reach out if and when he truly wants to. Please leave.”
Michael’s mother juts her chin up, a little huff leaving her mouth before she walks away. You truly thought that you wedged a block between Kaiser and his mother. You’re scared that if you turn around, you’ll see the hurt and betrayal across his face.
But that’s not it in the slightest. Kaiser is so proud to be called yours at this moment. He’s so very grateful to you. He has never had someone stick up for him in this way before.
Yes, he always acts as if nothing can bother him, even if he shows it on his face a little. But at this moment, he realizes that he wants to be held by you, he wants you to nurture him and to care for him. He wants to turn to you for things he has never received in his life.
Before he knows it, tears gather in his eyes, threatening to spill along his cheeks. His body moves on its own as he makes his way to you.
“Thank you,” his arms looped around your waist, his hold tightening ever so slightly. You thank the Lord that everyone has left or else everyone would see Kaiser crying and you know that he hates showing that to the world. 
You let those thoughts leave your mind, your smile growing back onto your face. “No need to thank me, my love. I meant every word and I will protect you until you’re ready to see her again.”
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pinkflower2003 · 8 hours
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STAY
Max Verstappen x Horner!Reader
Warnings : Angst, walking out on pregnant girlfriend? idk, dick Max? (honestly idk why i thought of this the thing just came into my head) Girlies i’m so sorry if this is shit this is my first time writing for someone if F1, this is just fiction idk all the facts.
Summary : As Christian Horners daughter, you were bound to meet Max Verstappen. What happens when you get pregnant when he is on the verge of becoming world champion and he doesn’t want to become a father? What happens when 3 years later after leaving each other’s lives, you get invited to the Grand Prix and he sees you again, this time with a little boy who looks just like him?
This is my first ever imagine on here so it’s probably really bad but i’m trying yall, we’re gonna work on it.
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When you first met Max, you were both 18, he had started driving for red bull and you had started going to your dad’s, Christian Horner’s, work for some experience.
Racing wasn’t something you were exactly into, but it was practically your families life, so you grew up on it. At 18, you had decided to have a go at working in PR & media, and the RedBull F1 company was the perfect place to do that. Then you met Max, and your whole experience there changed.
Up until that point, you had never met a boy like him, he was so different, so passionate about the sport and you had to admit to yourself that you liked being around him, and he liked being around you.
And a relationship started around a year after you first met, a whole year of shy smiles to each other, hugs in excitement when he won, ones that lasted slightly longer than they should have. A year after you met was when Max finally had the guts to ask you out, and you, privately, got giddy with excitement.
He was your first everything. Your first date, your first kiss, your first boyfriend, and the first one you had sex with.
You couldn’t get enough of each other, you were utterly in love with him and everyone could see it. Max was never very good at showing his emotions, until it came to you, that’s when he completely changed.
Then one day, 3 years into your relationship, two pink lines turned up on a stick. You and Max had always been careful, a baby wasn’t what was wanted or needed at the time, you both knew that, Max was focusing on his racing career, he was determined to be the very best he could without letting anything getting in his way, and becoming at father at 21 would do just that.
But he deserved to know, and in your heart you hoped that the love the two of you shared would make everything okay, that it would all work out. But it didn’t.
Max freaked out, saying he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be a father, he wouldn’t be a father. He struggled with his relationship with his father growing up, he had barely gotten over that, and now his own child? No, he refused. And so you left, saying goodbye to him, you left.
And so you went back home to England, leaving Max behind, starting a new life with your baby. It wasn’t until 3 years later that Max would finally see your baby.
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Otto had just turned 3, and he was the light of your world, his baby blue eyes and light blonde hair in slight curls was the thing that got you through each day.
Dropping Otto off at nursery, you got a phone-call from your dad.
“Hey sweetheart,”
“Hey dad, everything okay?”
“Listen, i know you’re probably going to say no, and that’s fine, but how about you and Otto coming to the Grand Prix this year? I know how much he likes cars, maybe he’d like to come and see them. He always go on about it, I thought it might be a nice idea to bring him out.”
You sighed, you knew how much your dad wanted to involve his grandson in the sport. Christian would always sit and watch the races reruns with him on tv when he got home, and played Disney’s cars with him when they saw each other. You knew your dad just wanted to do something special for Otto, but was it really worth the risk of seeing Max again, going through all the heartache again.
“I don’t know dad-“
“Max won’t be anywhere near you guys Y/N, I promise, you won’t have to see him, he won’t even know you guys are there.” You sighed again, know your dad was really wanting you to do this.
“You promise?” you asked, almost like a child.
“I promise.”
“I’ll think about it.”
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And so you thought about it, and thought about it, and thought about it until it kept you up at night.
It was only 48 before the Grand Prix that you had decided to go, and it was a tough decision, but for the sake of your son’s happiness, you gave in.
Getting there, you were greeted by your dad and his wife, Geri, who both immediately pulled you and your son into a hug. Geri looked at your son, “he’s gotten so big! I remember the day he was born, it seems like just yesterday.”
You smiled at her, it was true, the first 3 years of his life flew by in the blink of an eye, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest, not only for yourself, but for Max who never got to witness it. He would never get to see his first steps, his first smile, all because he didn’t want to. Everything in you said to be angry at Max, and while you were, you felt sad for him, because how sad that he would never get to see how amazing your son was.
Your dad took Otto out of your arms, cuddling his grandson who had a lightening mcqueen backpack on and a redbull baseball cap on. “Ready Ottie? We’re gonna go and see some cars, you excited?”
Otto squealed in delight, he fist pumped the air. “Yeah! Cars that go zoom?” He asked, in his sweet little voice.
“Cars that go very zoom,” Christian replied to him.
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Running into Max almost seemed inevitable, even when your dad had promised you that he would be no where near you or Otto, but you hadn’t expected it to be because of your son running up to him.
Before the race began, before Max got into his car, before he would even be able to realise you were there, your dad had taken you and Otto to see the car, knowing your little boy would love it. Christian had promised you Max wouldn’t be there, he would be off getting ready for the race and doing some media responsibilities.
And he was, you and your little boy were enjoying yourselves, Otto go the chance to sit in the car, you and your dad got photos with him, he was giggling none stop, and you couldn’t help but feel this is how it could’ve been, just with Max being the one to show his little boy around.
Taking Otto out the car, your dad put him on the ground, holding his hand to keep him there. You and your dad talked more about the car, admiring it. You both hadn’t notice that the door had opened, and Otto had run straight towards the person that had opened it.
“Y/N?” the voice said, causing you to turn around, going pale.
Max was stood there, your little boy at his feet, his little baseball cap falling slightly over his eyes from the impact of running into Max’s legs.
You stood there speechless, not sure what to say after all these years. Your dad ran to get Otto, who giggled as his grandad picked him up, while Max just stared at him.
“He-Is that?” Max said, breathless pointing to your child, but you just stood there, heart beating out of your chest.
Otto made grabbing hands towards you, trying to get out of his grandad’s arms, “mummy!” He screeched, and you took his out of your dad’s hands, gathering his things in your hands, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.
“I’m sorry, coming here was a mistake.” You said quietly, trying to walk out the door where Max was stood.
“No wait!” Max said, not wanting you to leave, but you were now angry. He didn’t want you to leave now, but it was okay three years ago? Your heart had shattered when he wanted nothing to do with your baby, and it seemed to have shattered all over seeing him once again. “What’s his name?” He asked, staring at your little boy, who had the same eyes as him.
“Otto Max Horner.”
You could see Max trying to calm his breathing, his hands slightly shaking. Otto looked at Max, giving him a goofy smile, not understanding what was happening.
“Stay,” Max said to the both of you. “Just stay under after the race. Please just let me talk to you, let me talk to him, just stay for the race.”
You just smiled at him, sadly.
“You should have asked me to stay three years ago Max, it’s too late for that now.”
233 notes · View notes
randombush3 · 1 day
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cherry wine
jenni hermoso x reader
part one
i hate this but i'm posting it anyway LOL
also sorry if it doesn't make sense but just like don't read into it 🙂
thanks @codiemarin for part two's idea xx
i also feel like every character deserves an apology in this
p.s. not proofread soz
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Jenni decides that she doesn’t mind too much. 
She is happy in Mexico, and, just like in Paris, her escape becomes a person, not a place. 
You have moved, and now you speak Spanish. She still doesn’t know where you are from. 
Your husband, however, is a lot more forthcoming. He works in oil. He owns a quarter of the club; he bought the shares without a second thought. You have no daughter but your husband wants women’s football to have a future. He isn’t a bad man, which Jenni hates. 
He is kind – filthy rich, but kind – and it makes it hard to hurt such a good person. 
Fortunately, ‘hard’ and ‘impossible’ are not synonymous. 
Motherhood brings about no thaw, but your iciness is what has always made you so enticing to Jenni. 
She memorises your address, and she is now the one who appears. The security guards open the gates for her when the time is right, and if it isn’t, they hustle her to a nearby bar and instruct her to wait. She waits obediently. She waits because you always call her back at some point. 
When you are with Jenni, cold fingertips warmed, eyes burning with desire, the tightrope she walks widens. She plants her feet with certainty, however false it may be. She looks down at the wire to avoid the world that blazes around her, and she never dares to look ahead because she knows that it is never going to be the right time to ask. 
It looks ugly, but it’s clean. 
Jenni is happy to be with you; happy here in Monterrey, just as she was happy there in Paris. 
Happy to hide and drag herself out of your bed past midnight. 
His bed. (She tries not to think about it.)
The complicating factor is the two little boys running around the mansion, chased by tired nannies who aren’t sure how to explain why their mother needs to be left alone with their favourite footballer. That’s what Jenni becomes, unluckily, because your husband is so forward-thinking that he takes the boys to see the girls. 
Although your piercing eyes can make Jenni shiver, the boys are unaffected. They run rings around everyone, but Jenni can sometimes bark out a command and get them to sit. 
Often enough, they sit an appropriate distance from your bedroom, patiently waiting for your private meeting to be over before hounding Jenni the minute she emerges. They take no notice of her tousled hair or wild eyes, and their attention flings Jenni’s tears back inside of her whenever you get a bit too harsh with her, so it’s all good. 
When her mother calls and asks why Jenni has learnt French now instead of when she played there, she tells her not to fuss. 
Jenni is removed from those who care about her, but the haze of comfort you provide blinds her to her mistakes. 
You are hers and she is yours. 
She lies in the palm of your hand and likes when your fist closes around her. She feels safe that way. 
She likes when there is blood because the blood tastes as sweet as cherry wine. Blood is proof that you are real. Your blood runs hot like tar, and she is glad to be rooted to the spot. 
Weeks go by, and Jenni’s latest medal begins to strangle her. 
You are starting to fall in love. 
It’s never happened before. 
It’s not dutiful and it’s not because you are too weak to overcome a woman’s nature; incapable of recoding the innate forces of motherhood. It’s not as taxing or exhausting, and it is certainly not the chore you thought love would be. 
Love is radiation, in a sense, and you cannot conceal it. 
Jenni is unaware that she should dress herself in lead, but suddenly everything is contaminated and, apparently, it is all her fault. 
He’s away. 
Jenni knows he is away because he said goodbye to her when he visited the team during their training session. He wished her luck for the match, he professed his faith in her to bring his club success. He is slowly losing the French accent when he speaks, he is slowly catching up to her. 
He’s away but this time she can’t shake the feeling of him in your bed. 
It’s never happened before. 
She still wants it, but her crime is flashing bright red in her mind. 
You, guilty too, flee from the lawless land you have built.
“We’re going to the Maldives for our anniversary,” you inform her, even though there is no reason for her to know. She is not this ‘we’. 
She’s actually never been included in a ‘we’. 
“And the boys?” Jenni asks with interest. She’d prefer them to tag along. It being less romantic would make her feel better. 
“The boys are staying here.” You turn around and face the window as she rises from the crumpled sheets. The blinds part enough for you to catch glimpses of laughing figures chasing each other around the poolside, shouts sounding frantically from their nanny about watching their step. “You’ll visit them while I’m away, right? They really like you.” 
“I really like them.” You smile. It reaches your eyes and Jenni sees the reflection of it in the glass. Wishing her hands could frame you, she feels encouraged to continue. “I like anything of yours. I adore you.”
Your response is as closed as a fist, but your ribs flare open and your heart is on display, thumping and thumping, and Jenni knows that she is holding the key to a rusted lock. It’s neither shiny nor new, but it is the right one this time. 
Jenni guards the key in your absence but she is going to hand it back to you. 
She does visit the boys, driving over daily, rolling her eyes when the guards remind her that you are not yet done with your holiday and punctuating her sentences curtly. They ask her about Spain. Jenni finds herself explaining lesbianism too. 
She can’t help but associate Spain with people she’d rather not think about, but the boys strike her as perfect blends of you and your husband and she is very quickly forcing those thoughts into her mind. 
She books a flight and she goes home, ensuring there is an overlap with your holiday so that you are the one who has to do the welcoming when she returns. 
“You’re not really here for work, are you?” Alexia sees right through her, amused by Jenni’s foolishness. “I have a girlfriend, Jenni.” 
“I need to forget mine,” Jenni replies quietly. 
Her attempt is futile and her desperation wanes the moment her plane lands. 
She tried. 
She can’t escape from it though; from you. 
You are still falling in love with Jenni. Distance didn’t stop it like you thought it would. 
You tried. 
Your husband grows busier and leaves more often. 
There is more time to fall in love with Jenni, and it suffocates you like some brainwashing, poisonous gas. 
You search for a cure for your illness, but there is no cure for the absence of infirmity. 
Your plan to drive her away is to echo how traumatising Paris must have been, but sleeping with Jenni furiously is infuriating. It doesn’t work! 
It doesn’t last, and, like some tired soldier, your fire is blown out and only softer, sweeter, more merciful embers remain.
There is no fight left, but you are in denial. 
The battle is lost and won, yet the victor is unclear. Is it Jenni, who is clutched closer and asked to sleep over? Is it you, with a delicious ache in your muscles and steaming blood coursing through your veins? 
“Do you love me?” 
You pale at how obvious you must have become and you don’t know how to answer. 
Jenni decides that she doesn’t mind too much. 
170 notes · View notes
seonghrtz · 2 days
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𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ nanami kento
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꒰ first sight ! ꒱ an invitation to a palace ball gives a young woman hope of reuniting with the dashing stranger she met in the woods.
❛❛ an unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more. ❜❜
pairing. prince!nanami kento x (cinderella)fem!reader.
contents. cinderella alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, mentions of death, occ nanami.
amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this story was more inspired by the cinderella live action movie (2015). i love this movie and have watched it so many times with my mom that i know it by heart hihihi. also, i had to include the iconic scenes of cinderella and the prince in the garden and the stepmother breaking the crystal slipper!!! and one quote from jane austen's pride and prejudice. in short, just nanami being the prince we deserve!!! i hope you enjoy it and have a good read <3
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
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𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, there was a beautiful, sweet girl called Y/n. This little girl lived a quiet life with her family. Her father was a merchant who traveled frequently and her mother stayed at home, due to her fragile health, teaching her daughter and taking care of her. Although it was a simple life, Y/n was happy and that was enough for her.
However, fate doesn't always have a happy ending for everyone, and her mother eventually passed away due to health complications. And with her last breath, she wished that her daughter would always be kind and gentle, that she would have courage and always want to do good, even when evil tries to prevail. And Y/n promised her mother that her kindness would prevail in the most difficult moments of her life and that she would live a good life.
Not long after her mother's death, the girl's father decided to remarry, looking for a way for his daughter to have a mother figure, not to replace her biological mother, but someone who could be by her side when he couldn't be. Things didn't go well in the family, her stepmother and stepsisters were mean and abusive, taking advantage of her kindness when her father was away on business. And then everything fell apart when the girl's father had an accident on one of his trips and died, leaving his daughter at the mercy of her stepmother and stepsisters' selfish will.
Y/n was reduced to a maid instead of a family member. She was moved from her room to the attic and had to do the housework, washing and cooking all day. She watched as everything her mother believed in and liked gradually disappeared, while things became more her stepmother's style.
One day, tired of everything, the young woman rode into the forest. The wind in her hair and the tears drying on her face felt a little liberating. That same day, she crossed paths with a young man named Kento, who wasn't having his best day either.
An unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶
Y/n awoke with the sunrise. After years, the young woman had become accustomed to the routine and every morning she rose early to prepare breakfast for her stepmother and stepsisters and then set about cleaning the house. At the very least, doing the chores around the house kept her mind busy.
Just as she was preparing the materials to clean the house, a knock on the front door echoed throughout the house. Y/n left the bucket of water she was holding in a corner and went to the door, surprised by the sudden visit. It was too early for people to leave their homes, and the postman had come the day before.
"Good morning" the young woman smiled politely at the stranger in front of her "What can I do for you?"
"Good morning, miss." The young man fumbled with the bag hanging next to his body and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to the young woman. Y/n took the envelope and watched as the boy said goodbye and walked away without saying another word.
The young woman looked surprised, but shrugged her shoulders. She made her way to the pantry where her stepmother was having breakfast and asked to be excused before entering the room.
"What did I say about coming into the living room while I'm having breakfast?" her stepmother said with a harsh tone.
"Excuse me, but a boy just came by and left this envelope." The young woman placed the envelope on the table and walked away, watching as her stepmother picked it up and opened it.
Y/n waited for a reaction and was startled when the older woman in front of her suddenly stood up from the breakfast table and gave several quick and shouting orders.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GO WAKE UP MY DAUGHTERS! WE HAVE A ROYAL BALL TO ATTEND AND WE NEED THE BEST DRESSES!”
"A royal ball?" she asked confused.
"The King is giving a ball to find a wife for his son, who will inherit the kingdom, now run along because I need to go into town to find the three best dresses in town! One of my daughters is coming back married that night!"
"Oh, ma'am, that's very kind of you!"
"What?" The stepmother put her hands on her waist.
"The dress..."
"Oh dear, and who says the dress is for you?" the older woman laughed with glee, "Two will be for my beautiful daughters and the other will be for me, I will not spend my money to buy something for you to wear to the ball."
"But could I go to the ball?" she asked hopefully.
"Um..." the stepmother looked the young woman up and down, "If you've done all your chores for the day and have a dress, maybe you could go."
"Ah, thank you, ma'am!" Y/n smiled excitedly at the idea of going to a royal ball.
"Now go wake up my daughters!"
After waking her step-sisters, the young woman watched as the house descended into chaos. The two sisters screamed excitedly at the idea of the royal ball, while their stepmother ordered them to go to the city. Y/n felt true peace only when the house was deserted, just her and the animals in it. And without further ado, the young woman smiled to herself and ran to the stable. Luckily, her stepmother had left just when she had a secret appointment.
On the day she received the news of her father's death, and on the same day she rode aimlessly into the forest, Y/n had met Kento, a young man who had happened to receive tragic news and had ridden into the forest to relax. After the unexpected meeting, the young woman and the man agreed to meet every day in the same place at the same time to talk about their tragedies and successes. However, Y/n had kept these meetings secret, afraid that if her stepmother found out, she would forbid her to meet the boy she knew so little about.
With a slight smile on her face, the young woman rode to the meeting point and was surprised to see Kento waiting for her. Usually, she was the first to arrive, but the euphoria over the news of the ball had delayed her a few minutes.
"Miss." Kento smiled at the sight of her and helped her off the horse.
"Ken, I'm sorry I'm late!" she said, smoothing down the unruly strands that had been messed up by the wind "The invitation to the royal ball ended up stirring things up at home."
"Speaking of the royal ball, will you be attending?" Kento tried to hide the slight hint of hope in his words.
"I still have my doubts about that," she sighed, sitting down on a log next to her horse. "My stepmother said that if I managed to finish all my chores for the day, and if I had a dress, I could go to the ball."
"If they treat you like that, why don't you leave?"
"It's not that easy...not to mention that it's not that bad, other places can be more hostile."
"I see..." the young man sits down next to the woman, "I'd like you to go to the ball so we can have at least one dance.”
The young man's words made her laugh.
"Then I hope you'll save a dance for me."
"I'm saving all the dances for you, you're the only one I want to dance with on the ball night." Kento's words made Y/n feel shy.
"I think there will be many more interesting ladies to dance with." The young woman shifted her gaze to the trees that made up the scenery around her.
"I have no interest in other ladies, none of them can compare to you."
"Kento! You shouldn't say that!"
"Why not? My mother taught me to be honest and I'm just telling the truth," a small smile appeared on his lips.
"Maybe you shouldn't be so direct with your honesty..." The young woman's face burned at the statement of the man next to her.
"Well, I wish you'd come to the ball so we could see each other outside of this forest for once."
"And dance the night away?" she laughed lightly.
"And dance the night away," Kento repeated her question, but this time as a concrete statement, leaving no doubt about his intentions with the young woman on the night of the royal ball.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶
If Y/n said she didn't expect her stepmother and stepsisters to make her day the busiest of her life, running around doing chores and being responsible for every little detail of the preparations for the royal ball, she would be lying.
She'd woken up earlier than usual to get her mother's gown ready for the royal ball, but it wasn't long before her stepmother started barking orders, causing her gown to be forgotten. Cleaning the stairs, feeding the animals in the barn, helping her step-sisters put on their huge, garish party dresses, helping them fix their hair... among other things, Y/n had no time to finish her own dress.
Perhaps her meeting with Kento should only take place in the forest, hidden in secret. There would be no other way, not if her stepmother still had the power to dictate orders and interfere in her life as if she couldn't make her own decisions.
When she finished climbing the stairs that led to the attic where her bedroom had become, the young girl was surprised to open the door and find her mother's dress mended, brand new.
"How…?" Y/n approached the dress, delighted, "Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you to whoever made it!" She smiled excitedly, now she could meet Kento and dance with him all night, just as she had said she would if she could attend the ball.
The young woman took a quick shower to get ready for the ball. There wasn't much to prepare, she fixed her dress to her body, put on her pink shoes with low heels, applied pink lipstick and put on her mother's pearl necklace before fixing her hair. She didn't have much, just as she didn't need much. Y/n was just happy to be at the ball and to have the opportunity to meet her friend. And she preferred to keep it simple.
But her happiness was short-lived...
When she came down to the parlor just as her stepmother and daughters were about to leave for the ball. Looking at the girl in her ball gown, with a happy expression on her face, Madame Tremaine saw the perfect moment to break her like fragile old porcelain.
"What's that?" Her stepmother's superior look didn't intimidate Y/n.
"I'm ready to go to the royal ball!"
"You? The ball?" Drizella laughed anasally, "But not even on the day the pigs fly!"
"Mom, I don't want to be seen with the maid! Look at these rags! They don't even compare to our fancy dresses!" Anastasia commented, looking up and down at the young woman in front of her.
"But you promised I could go if I had a dress and finished my homework," the young woman said, remembering the agreement they had made when they were invited to the ball.
"I don't remember promising you anything," Tremaine circled Y/n like a predator circles its prey. "You must have misunderstood, my dear. Never in my life would I go to such an important ball with a filthy, ridiculous little girl like you." The woman held the young woman's chin tightly, forcing her to look into her cold, hateful eyes.
"I don't understand... I've never done anything to you..." Y/n mumbled, her eyes watering as much from the force her stepmother put on her jaw as from the words spoken to her.
"You're an insignificant, annoying little thing, you know that?" Tremaine let go of Y/n's chin and smiled sideways before reaching for the pearl necklace that adorned the young woman's neck and ripping it off with her own hand, startling her. "Oops!" the woman smiled as she tore the sleeve and front of the dress, making her daughters laugh at the scene and help their mother destroy the dress, "Come on girls, we can't be late for the ball.”
Y/n felt her body shake, and when they were gone, the young woman ran quickly, sobbing, to the garden ⸻ the place where she had so many memories with her family, with her mother, and which Tremaine had never been able to change. She sat down on a bench and began to cry, not just for what had happened a few moments ago, but for everything she had been through these past few years without her family.
"But what is a beautiful girl doing crying instead of having fun at the ball?" The voice of a mysterious person startled Y/n, who was trapped in her own world of memories.
"Who... Who are you?" The young woman looked up, startled, and rubbed her eyes to wipe away the tears.
"Your fairy godmother, dear! Or rather, your Fairy Godfather!"
"What?" The young woman looked at the person before her. He was tall, with white hair, blue eyes hidden behind glasses, and a pair of large shiny wings.
"You can call me Gojo if you prefer, now come on, hurry up, we have a ball to attend!" Gojo said hurriedly, pulling Y/n to get up from the bench.
"But I can't go to the ball like this!"
"What do you mean?" His glasses slipped down his nose.
"My dress is torn, I can't go like this."
"And why didn't you say so before?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, "Do you mind a few casual changes?" He pulled his wand from his pocket and smiled when he saw the young woman nod, "Then let's go!"
Gojo scratched his throat before dictating the dress, which completely transformed. The pink quickly turned to blue, and the single layer became several. The dress became voluminous, shiny and elegant, fit for a princess ⸻ and Y/n couldn't help but feel like one in that wonderful dress.
"Let me see your feet," Gojo ordered.
"What? My feet? Why do you want to see my feet?"
"Are you crazy thinking I won't do my full job? You need a proper shoe for that dress!"
Without questioning the fairy, Y/n lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her pink shoes, which in less than a few seconds had been transformed into a beautiful pair of crystal heels.
"Are they crystal?" the young woman asked in shock.
"The real question is, why not crystal? It's just a little gift, honey," Gojo smiled sideways, "Now hurry up, or you'll miss the first dance! Do you have any pumpkins?"
"Pumpkin? There are some over there." Y/n pointed to one of the corners of the garden.
"Wonderful. We have a pumpkin and some mice, perfect for a carriage and its horses." Gojo smiled proudly before casting another spell, transforming the pumpkin into a huge, detailed carriage and the nearby mice into majestic horses, "Now let's go, you can't be late!" He pulled Y/n into the carriage.
"But what about my stepmother and my step-sisters? They'll recognize me when they see me at the ball!"
"Don't worry about that!" Gojo tapped the young girl's head with his wand, "And remember, sweetie, all this magic here will only last until midnight, no longer."
"Until midnight?" Y/n smiled sweetly, "That's long enough, I don't need more than that. Thank you for everything you've done for me."
"No thanks, sweetie, I'm your fairy godfather, it's just my job. Now go to the ball and have fun, break it out!"
"All right!" Y/n laughed, "Thanks again!"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶
Y/n was late.
She realized this when she finished climbing the endless stairs that led to the entrance of the ballroom and found the doors closed.
The young woman took a deep breath before opening the doors, allowing a glimpse of the stairs that would lead to the dance floor and where the other guests were gathered. She bowed when she saw the king on a throne at the top of the hall and walked quietly down the stairs, but the people began to spread out, forming a corridor from one side of the hall to the other.
Noticing the person on the other side, the young woman smiled and walked excitedly toward the person in the middle of the hall.
"Ken," Y/n smiled at the sight of the blonde.
"You came." Kento smiled, lost in the beauty of the woman before him.
"You promised me a dance," she smiled at the memory of their last encounter in the forest.
"Then I would like... I mean... allow me the greatest of pleasures by granting me the honor of letting you lead this... first..."
"Dance?" the young woman said, completing the prince's request.
"Yes, dance." Kento smiled awkwardly with a blush on his cheeks and ears as he saw the woman before him nod in agreement.
Gently pulling her by the waist and holding one of her hands, Kento led the dance as soon as the music began, whirling her around the hall. The young prince held her tightly, afraid that this moment would be one of his dreams, for he had found her fragile in the forest at a time when his own heart was fragile.
"Everyone is looking at you." Y/n mumbled sheepishly as she noticed the eyes of the guests watching them dance around the ballroom.
"You couldn't be more wrong." Kento laughed slightly, "They're looking at you."
When the music for the first dance ended, there was no waiting for the next dance to begin. Soon, the ballroom floor was filled with couples happily dancing to the lively music of the orchestra.
"Come with me." Kento whispered in Y/n's ear and led her out of the room.
"So... you're the prince?" The young woman asked even though it was as obvious as sunlight. She wanted an excuse to strike up a conversation as they walked to wherever Kento wanted to take her.
"Not the Prince, but one of the princes that exist in the world," Kento said awkwardly, "There are several... not just me..."
"But aren't you an apprentice, as you told me when we first met?"
"Yes, I'm an apprentice monarch who is still learning his trade." Nanami's words made Y/n laugh briefly, "First of all, I should apologize. Please forgive me for my lies, I imagined you would treat me differently if you knew I was the prince of these lands, I thought you were a good honest girl and now I have proof that you really are."
"So... no more surprises?" the young woman asks the boy, holding out her hand and showing him her little finger.
"No more surprises." Kento gently intertwined his little finger with the young woman's, wishing the world could stop right then and there. "This way, I promise we'll be right there," he said as he led her through the castle's vast garden.
"Won't they miss you at the ball?"
"Maybe," he shrugged, "but I'm not planning on going back just yet."
"Is there a problem?"
“If I go back now, they'll try to push me towards a lady of their choosing." Nanami said dejectedly, maybe he didn't want to talk about his problems, not on such a magical night. "They want me to marry for advantage.”
"Well, I think you should rule your heart," the young woman said with a slight smile.
"Perhaps, but I must listen to and obey the king's wishes."
"He's your father, Kento, I'm sure he'll understand your point of view, you just need the right time"
"I've never shown this place to anyone before," Kento said, changing the subject when they reached the spot he wanted to show the young woman. "It's a secret garden, I thought you might like it.”
"I love it!" Y/n smiled as she explored the area until she came to a swing attached to a tree.
"Please," the young prince said, motioning for her to sit on the swing as soon as he noticed her gaze.
"I don't know if I should," the young woman said shyly.
"Yes, you should."
"No, I shouldn't."
"Yes, you should."
"No."
"Yes!"
"Okay." She shrugged, gave in and sat down on the swing, and Nanami soon began to push her gently.
Y/n had as much fun as Nanami. They'd never met outside the confines of the forest, and even after so many surprises that beautiful night, they couldn't help but feel the magic ⸻ and love ⸻ in the air. There, at that moment, Nanami Kento wasn't a prince about to be thrown to the first rich princess who would sign a contract favorable to the kingdoms, and Y/n wasn't the maid of her stepmother and stepsisters who was constantly being abused. They were just themselves, without their titles, without what defined them, they were just two souls in love, enjoying the time they had left.
When Y/n's crystal shoe accidentally came off her foot, Nanami quickly stopped pushing her on the swing and crouched down in front of her, taking the shoe in his hands. He held up the hem of her dress, revealing Y/n's bare foot, and gently picked it up to put the shoe back on her foot.
"Is it crystal?" Nanami's hand, holding the young woman's foot, unconsciously patted her ankle.
"And why wouldn't it be?" she said gracefully, "Thank you."
"Y/n... would you accept..." The young prince's speech was cut short as the clock struck midnight.
"It's midnight..." The young woman got up from the swing, causing Nanami to get up with her in fright. "I have to go!"
"Wait!" Nanami watched as the young woman hurried past the exit of the garden. "Why do you have to go now?"
"Your Royal Highness is very kind, thank you for the wonderful evening," she said as she walked in quick steps, "I will never forget every second we spent together, it was magical. And who knows, maybe we can meet again in the forest."
"Why are you in such a hurry?"
"It's hard to explain! But I promise we'll meet again!" Y/n smiled as she ran frantically.
"Y/n! Where are you going?" Kento ran after the young woman, but unfortunately, there were several obstacles in his way. It was as if the universe didn't want him to reach her at this moment.
As she descended the castle's long staircase to the exit gates, she lost one of her crystal slippers on one of the steps. Fearing the final chime of the clock, the young woman left the shoe behind, believing that its magic would eventually fade, and it would be nothing more than a lost heel.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶
All the magic vanished when Y/n arrived home, leaving only her little crystal shoe on her foot. The young woman bent down and picked up the only remaining shoe ⸻ since she had lost the other pair ⸻ and smiled as she looked at the shoe in her hands. The fact that it was there proved that it hadn't been a dream, but a real event.
Y/n went up to the attic and on a loose floor ⸻ where she kept some of her mother's things ⸻ she put on the crystal slipper. She knew deep down that something bad would happen if her stepmother found out that she hadn't just gone to the ball, but had danced with the prince.
Ah, the prince.
Not even in her wildest dreams would the young girl imagined that the boy she had met in the forest, and who had been meeting her at the same place at the same time ever since, was actually the prince, the future king, of the kingdom where she lived.
Kento had always been polite and kind to her, always willing to listen and talk about anything. He was already the man of every girl's dreams, and now that she knew his status, it had only been confirmed ⸻ but Y/n didn't want him because of his status
However, apparently he would only remain in her dreams...
The next day, Y/n went back to her routine as if the night before had never happened. She woke up early, prepared the food, took care of the animals in the stable, cleaned the house... Nothing was different, except for her memories and the hidden crystal slipper.
When her step-sisters finally gave her a break and spared her from hearing about the men who had danced at the ball and how a young girl in a blue dress had dared to go straight to the prince after setting foot in the ballroom, Y/n headed for the attic.
In the afternoon, she would go to the forest as usual to meet Kento. The young woman wasn't sure if he would show up that afternoon, but she hoped with all her heart that he would be waiting for her among the trees. As he always did.
As soon as she opened the door to her room, the young woman noticed that some floors were out of place, and when she noticed that her memory box was out of its hiding place, her heart began to beat fast and her palms began to sweat with nervousness.
"Is this what you were looking for?" Tremaine's voice startled Y/n, but her fear was soon replaced by surprise when she saw the slipper in her hand. "Oh dear, don't look so scared. I'm only going to ask you once. From whom did you steal it?"
"I didn't steal it from anyone, it was given to me!"
"Given to you? Oh, for heaven's sake, nothing is ever given, especially to someone like you!"
"I swear it was a gift!"
"So you're going to insist on the lie?" Tremaine let out a bored sigh and walked to the attic exit, tapping Y/n on the shoulder on the way, "Good thing you'll have plenty of time to think... Oh oops!" The woman slammed the crystal slipper into the door frame, shattering it into a thousand pieces.
Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she saw the shattered shoe on the floor, barely noticing Tremaine lock the door. The young woman knelt down and picked up each shard, feeling the tears blur her vision. The first gift she had received after so many years was broken and there was nothing that could fix it. Now only the memories remained.
Y/n sighed, wiped the tears from her eyes with her hands and sat down by the window. She had nowhere else to go, she wouldn't be meeting with Kento like she used to. The only thing she had left were her animal friends to keep her company.
Not long after, the door to the attic was opened, frightening the young woman ⸻ she swore that Tremaine would lock her in there for days, or perhaps just until the next day. But she was soon surprised to see a palace guard instead of her stepmother.
"Miss, please come with me.”
Without saying a word, Y/n followed him down the stairs to the living room. When she reached the living room, she noticed a figure she knew well. His clothes were in perfect condition, with no wrinkles or stains, his blond hair was perfectly styled with not a single strand out of place, and his posture was upright and impeccable. There was no doubt that Nanami Kento was a perfect prince.
"Your Royal Highness," Y/n said, bowing.
"I thought we agreed to treat each other without formalities, Y/n." Nanami turned, his serious expression relaxing slightly as he met the bright eyes of the young woman before him.
"Forgive me." Y/n murmured shyly.
"When you ran away during the ball and didn't show up in the forest as usual, I thought maybe I had disappointed you by revealing my true identity as the prince. I thought maybe I should give you some space, but I couldn't. Your name is engraved on my heart, and you are the only thing that crosses my mind every moment I breathe in and out. Every day I looked forward to seeing you for even a few seconds in the forest, and when you didn't show up today, I felt like my world was about to fall apart. I looked for you all over the kingdom, I went from house to house looking for the owner of the lost crystal slipper, I went to the edge of the forest looking for you. I love you, most ardently. I'm yours with or without the crown". Nanami approached Y/n and held her hand to his chest, making the young woman feel his heart beat faster.
"But Nanami, I'm just a simple farmer's girl, and as much as my heart wants to throw myself into your arms and give myself completely, I don't know if I'm suited for such a responsibility."
"A wise woman once told me that we must rule our own hearts. Please come with me and I will be yours forever.”
"Eternally mine? That doesn't sound so bad..." Y/n murmured, her heartbeat calming down to a feeling that was too good to be true.
"So, what do you say?" Kento smiled slightly.
"I'll be yours, any way you want.”
Then Nanami, overcome by the heat of the moment, passionately kissed the woman of his dreams. The kiss was calm, there was no need to rush, it was tender and addictive.
Y/n smiled as they moved away from each other and felt Kento place something in her hand. The young woman looked down at her hand, noticing the missing pair of her crystal shoes.
"You... you found them," she looked at the shoe in her hands, "I don't have the other pair."
"I can have a thousand crystal shoes made if you want." Nanami said with a serious face, showing that he wasn't joking.
"That won't be necessary." Y/n laughed at his lover's expression. "It's just a reminder that that magical night wasn't just a nice dream."
Kento smiled slightly and hugged Y/n tightly. Finally, after a long time, the girl he had always dreamed of, the girl who had always made his heart race, she would finally be by his side forever, there would be no need for him to run off into the forest, because she would already be within reach.
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