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#i know because i was the bridesmaid i was personally invited
satorusugurugurl · 2 months
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My Wedding Date is an Escort!
Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.
Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader
Word Count: 3,682
Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language
A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!
Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
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Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.
And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.
Life fucking hated you.
Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.
The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!
Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.
Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.
Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.
You could not show up to the wedding alone.
Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?
You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?
Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.
“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.
“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.
Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.
Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.
“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.
Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!
“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.
“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.
You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!
“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.
You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.
“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”
“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”
“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”
“Yes.”
Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.
”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”
”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“
For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.
”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”
“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.
He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?
”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down
”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”
You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.
”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”
“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”
Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.
”Great, lucky me.”
Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”
“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”
“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”
You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.
”Well shit, that’s a first!”
”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”
”Nope.”
You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.
”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”
With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”
”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”
In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.
It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.
It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.
“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.
“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”
Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.
“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”
“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”
“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”
“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”
You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”
“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”
The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.
You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.
You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.
“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”
“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”
“Why did he break up with you?”
“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”
You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.
You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.
”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.
“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”
”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”
”Eh!?”
Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.
The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.
You owed Haibara big time for this.
After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.
“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”
You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.
”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”
“Awesome, thanks a lot.”
As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.
”You seriously think I believe that?”
Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.
“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”
Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.
”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.
”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”
The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.
It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.
“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.
”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.
Oh, he was fucked.
(TBC)
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cameronspecial · 2 months
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Mistakes That Can Be Undone
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.4K
Summary: After finding an invitation that throws his whole world off balance, Rafe has a plan to get back the love of his life.
A/N: Inspired by "Something Blue" by Voilà.
Masterlist
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When Rafe finds the invitation, his world becomes submerged in water, already causing him to feel dizzy. ‘You are invited to join Y/N Y/L/N and Hudson Jones to celebrate their wedding’ makes him forget what he is getting from Topper’s room in the first place. Of course, Topper got an invitation. He isn’t only Rafe’s friend but hers. The black-and-white extravagance of the invitation is not her choice. He knows for a fact she has always dreamed of a smaller wedding. Just their immediate family and closest friends attend the most important day of their life. 
———
Her head rested on his stomach as she scrolled through Instagram. A particular post caused her thumb to hesitate to swipe up. She angled her phone toward him, “Remember, Mrs. Thompson? She got remarried.” His eyes darted toward her screen to see a picture of their third-grade teacher in a wedding dress. “You follow her on Instagram?” he questioned. She shrugged, “I follow her daughter. She was always nice to me.” “Yeah, I remember Monica. She was hot,” he thought out loud, which caused Y/N to hit him with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry. She can never be as beautiful as you. Have you ever thought of what you would want for your wedding?“ She said, “Small wedding, extravagant marriage.” He chuckled, looking down at her with a loving smile. “Aren’t those the same thing?” Her head shook, “No. A wedding, for me, is a party to celebrate the union. A marriage is a lifelong commitment.” His arm wrapped around his waist. “That made no sense, but I will do whatever you want,” he whispered with his lips pressed against her temple. 
———
“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Topper’s voice pulls Rafe out of his memories. Rafe blinks back the tears and places the invitation back onto the desk. He and Y/N broke up five years ago, yet a small part of him always thought they would find their way back to her. She is the love of his life and all because of one small mistake he made, he never gets to be her lifelong love again. It feels like some mistakes aren’t meant to be fixed. He picks up the second PS5 controller from the dresser and leaves the room with a newfound emptiness. 
———
He knows he shouldn’t be here. It is definitely not his place to be sneaking around the church to look for her. Yet another thing that is wrong with this scene. Y/N loves the beach and it was one of the reasons why she decided to do her graduate degree in Australia. He catches a glimpse of white lace stepping into a room and the door closes after the bridesmaid and mothers of the couple leave the room. He overhears a bridesmaid saying that Y/N needed a moment to herself. His grin struggles to break through his stoic expression. 
The tap on the door causes her to spin toward the sound. She takes a deep breath, already struggling to keep her tears in check so she doesn’t ruin her makeup. “I-I really need a moment to myself, please,” she croaks out. She wants to groan when the person behind the door ignores her pleas and enters anyway. Even though it isn’t her preferred wedding look, she still looks beautiful in the vintage lace wedding dress. The long flowy sleeves make her look like a goddess. The lace reaches up to her collarbone and it is a little too high for his liking. Their eyes meet and he gives her a small smile, “I know you need a second; however, I don’t know if I’ll still have the courage to do this after one.” Her heart stops at not only the sight of him but also the scent of him. Even after all these years, the leathery smell of his cologne makes her feel at home. “What are you doing here?” she questions, fighting the urgent to step forward. He does it for them, “He is the something new, so I’m here to be your something old.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “I think that tradition was referencing objects, not humans,” she advises. “Seriously, though, what are you doing here, Rafe?” His hand falls to the back of his neck. “Do you really want to marry him?” he asks, eyes falling to his shoes. 
“Of… of course, why wouldn’t I? I love Hudson.”
“You don’t sound very sure about that, Honey. Do you think maybe you are getting cold feet?”
“You don’t get to ask me that, not when we haven’t spoken to each other in years.”
Her downcast eyes tell him he is right. He risks taking a step further, reaching out to rest his hand above her elbow. The warmth of his hand has her wanting to melt against it. “You aren’t upset about us not talking, not really. Ask me what you want to ask,” he whispers with his lips touching the shell of her ear. She leans back to look him in the eyes, “Why didn’t you want to leave with me? Why be here now when you were the one to end us because you didn’t want to move to Australia with me?” He brings his palm up to rest on her cheek and gives her a meek smile. Tears begin to well over the edge of his eyes as he thinks about how he is the reason why she is getting ready to walk down the aisle to someone else. “I was an idiot. I was young and thought I needed my father’s approval more than I needed love. And I am so so sorry that I made that decision, which hurt you, Honey. But I promise you if you give me another chance, then I won’t be stupid enough to let you go again,” he vows, his thumb kissing her cheekbone. A deep breath falls out of her mouth, “I can’t, I’m supposed to get married today.” Nails dig into his heart, slowly tearing it apart to leave him for dead until a glint coming from just below her collarbone catches his attention.
He grasps drops to the oval locket hanging on a chain from her neck. Engraved flowers surrounded both of their initials at the front and he props it open to see his favourite picture of them still safe inside. Since they broke up, he thought she would’ve gotten rid of the necklace he gave her on their first anniversary. The symbol that he is serious about their relationship and has left behind his player ways. His gaze burns a hole into his gift to her, “How can I take your words seriously when the symbol of my love is around your neck on the day you are meant to marry the supposed love of your life? Tell me something, Honey, does he know his skin is pressing against a gift from me while he makes love to you?” 
Her eyes widen at his realization and silence falls in the room. He can see her thoughts spin around in her brain. “Is it cold in here?” she whispered, causing Rafe’s head to tilt till a smile craved itself on her face. “I think I need to go warm up in your Benz.” She laces her fingers through his and picks up the bottom of her dress. They both dash out of the room, running in the direction of the car. He tries to be as quiet as possible, except her giggles make their location known. Staff members’ heads follow the couple’s movement as they run down the hallway. Once the breeze from the wind hits their face, he unlocks the door to his vintage blue Benz that he got because she loved how the colour matched his eyes. He jumps over the driver’s side door and leans over to open the passenger’s door for her. Her laughter causes his heart to flutter. As soon as she is safely buckled into her seat, he quickly pulls out of the parking spot. Rafe can’t stop himself from smirking after spotting who he assumes is Hudson, jogging out of the church with an exasperated and confused look on his face. Y/N yells over her shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Hudson. I’ll explain everything later.” 
They drive until the church is out of sight. He chances a glance at her whilst he stops at a red light. The massive grin on her face causes flowers to bloom in his heart. She looks at him and places her hand over the gear shift so he can lace his fingers with hers. He brings her knuckles to her lips. “I’m not growing old with him,” she states. He can’t help but beam himself, “Good because I’m the only one who gets to be your something old and new.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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AITA for accidentally outing my fiance?
I (27F) am engaged to a 24M guy. He is trans, but he doesn't identify as trans anymore - he's post-everything, passes 100%, lives stealth/as a cis man, and no one who didn't know him pre-transition knows him as anything but a cis man. I know keeping that up is very important to him, we've had a lot of conversations about how happy he is just being seen as cis and being able to pass. I know getting outed and 'found out' is also a big worry of his, for example for our upcoming wedding he's rushing around trying to make it clear to his family that they shouldn't mention him being trans or refer to him as she/her at our wedding because he has so many friends coming who don't know he's trans. It's not that he doesn't trust them or he's ashamed of being trans or anything, he's very supportive of his trans friends, but he just doesn't publicly live as trans.
We're in a big Discord server of friends that have been quite close for about a year now, enough that we've met multiple of them in person and two of them are going to be in his wedding party as sort of 'best man' equivalents (we're not really sticking to bridesmaid best man stuff just our mixed gender friends). He has kept his Facebook very private for as long as I've known him, the only people on there are IRL friends and family because he has in the past posted trans stuff on there, like transition updates, it still has old pictures of him pre-T or in early transition, etc. I knew he didn't want this found. He also hadn't told any of this group aside from the people he was especially close with and had invited to the wedding his surname and location in case they looked him up and found something.
People in the server were sharing their Facebook profiles and I shared mine so people could add me. My fiance messaged me right after pointing out that me sharing mine would dox him as I had him in my relationship status and friends list, but I unfortunately didn't see this message for a while as I was distracted and doing other things. By the time I saw, everyone in the group had already clicked and gone through my profile and found his.
He tried to go through and speed-delete everything he could find that was public that mentioned him being trans or showed him pre-transition, any comments from family referring to it, etc but pictures that were set to friends only were still popping up in previews on the side and some of his family have public profiles that show cover images with him pre-T and things like that.
Our friends were making jokes about finally knowing his surname, going through his whole account down to the time it was first made back in 2018, commenting on old statuses of his, so they definitely saw his profile and went through all of it. He was panicking because he had no way of knowing if they'd seen that he's trans or not and got super upset and freaked out about the possibility, and he couldn't ask without outing himself or making them suspicious.
I apologized and deleted the link but obviously by then it was too late.
I do think it's not a huge deal as much as he thinks because I know our friends would be supportive and wouldn't think of him differently, but I know it was still important to him. I'm not sure they did see because some of our friends are the type to have just blurted out "You're trans?!" in the server without thinking about it (not because they're malicious or judging it, but some of them aren't as online and don't really know how to talk about it sensitively if that makes sense) and they didn't say anything. However he thinks they did because they were talking about statuses older than the ones he managed to get to deleting in time.
Like I said i did apologize but I feel like he's still upset with me for not thinking before sending my profile. On top of that I have kind of a habit of doing things impulsively and without thinking (I have bpd and bipolar) and not always taking into account how it will affect him or what consequences it will have,which I've been working on for years but I worry this is just adding to that which I know already wears on him.
What are these acronyms?
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pt2change · 3 days
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take my hand ; park jihyo
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pairing: jihyo x reader
genre: bff!jihyo, female reader, fluff, eventual romance, wlw, men dni
word count: 1,410
[a/n: hmmm this can be seen as a part 2 maybe lol]
↣ jihyo masterlist
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
the wedding venue was absolutely beautiful. the music was pleasant to hear and the food was so delicious… better than a five star restaurant if you were being completely honest. the table centerpieces complimented the rest of the decorations. everyone was laughing and socializing or dancing.
everything at your brothers wedding was perfect.
except you just couldn’t help but stand alone, leaning back against the wall and watching it all unfold in front of your eyes.
it’s not like you weren’t uncomfortable or anything. you loved the dress your new sister in law had picked out for her bridesmaids. and you were torn between having your hair up or down for the event.
luckily, jihyo had helped you decide which style was better and helped with your make up as well.
the wedding invitations were sent out months in advance. jihyo was surprised she was invited considering the only person she was close with was…. well, you.
and with that, she wasn’t even entirely sure if she wanted to come. and it wasn’t until there was one month left that you found out jihyo had gotten an invitation and she explained to you why she didn’t want to go. that is of course, until you begged her for weeks and weeks because after all you didn’t want to be without your best friend.
“y/n!” you turned your head when you felt a familiar touch grab your arm. jihyo stood in front of you in a black maxi dress and she fixed some strands of her hair that were in her face.
finally….
“i’m sorry i’m late, the venue was further than i thought” and she looked at you with a big smile.
you blinked profusely before smiling back at her, you looked up and down at your best friends appearance.
“that dress looks beautiful on you, jihyo” you comment to her, but before she can even respond, you hear the dj over the speakers. “alright” the dj starts, “we hope you all enjoy the wedding, let’s give a round of applause to the newlyweds!”
everyone cheers as your brother and his wife make their way to the center and begin the typical wedding traditions.
an hour goes by and there’s people chatting and dancing all over again. and when the dj plays a slow song, men and women throughout the event pair up and make their way to the dance floor to begin slow dancing with one another.
you groan quietly… okay so you didn’t want to dance and especially to this music. but suddenly you hear giggling next to you, turning to find jihyo covering her mouth with her hand. you chuckle, “what’s so funny?”
jihyo clears her throat, “well, there’s no one here that i know besides you, and i really want to dance to this song. so, will you-?” you can’t help but giggle, thinking this one of those moments where she’s being sarcastic.
jihyo looks at you with doe eyes, “dance with me?” you’re taken back when she finishes her sentence, because she sounds genuinely sincere.
you’re not sure exactly what to say, you two would stick out in the crowd of people on the dance floor because 1. it’s a small event and 2. you were both girls.
combine that with the slow romantic song and the both of you slow dancing, people would assume that the two of you were dating. you weren’t sure what your family or other friends would think.
but then again, it’s 2024. the times of being shocked at two girls slow dancing is long gone.
you nod your head, “fine, but you have to take the lead.”
jihyo smiles, before putting her hand out for you to grab, “that’s fine, y/n. you know im wearing one of my shortest pairs of heels so you can reach.” you roll your eyes in response, “don’t make fun of my height!”
you hands connects with hers, and she pulls you to the dance floor. you place your hands on her shoulders, your fingers trailing on her soft skin. jihyo wraps her arms around your hips, but as the song goes on, she brings them up slowly to your lower back.
it seems like forever by the time the song comes to an end. you and jihyo find yourself at the center of the dance floor. you stare into each others eyes, before you both share a laugh. you link your arms together before walking off the dance floor.
throughout the entire night, you and jihyo dance whenever you can, taking breaks in between to head to the bar and ordering drinks.
you also noticed that the stares and whispers towards you both dialed down. in the end, you and jihyo didn’t care nor did you both put any attention towards it. you were both happy to be in each other’s presence.
it’s nearing 1am, when you and jihyo discover the upstairs balcony that overlooks the entire venue. jihyo fingers sneak their way into your hand as she pulls you up the stairs. when you get to the top, you both stand near the rails, watching as people danced or made their way out the venue to head home.
you suddenly feel jihyo’s head lean against your shoulder, you lean your head towards hers as well, letting out a sigh of relief.
your grip tightens around her hand, “tonight has been so fun, jihyo.” you laugh, lifting your head to face her, “i’m so glad i asked you to come.”
jihyo laughs softly, “y/n, you didn’t ask. you practically begged me to come.”
you shrug your shoulders, “asking, begging, it’s basically the same thing.” jihyo shakes her head in response, “i had fun tonight as well y/n.”
jihyo clears her throat suddenly, “you know when i suggested we should dance together, i wasn’t sure what your reaction would be-“ her breath shutters, “i was worried it would ruin our friendship or something by making you uncomfortable. but then you agreed, and it just made me so happy.”
you look at jihyo with such sincerity, “i was initially worried about what other people would say about us, but i decided to go against it. who cares what these people say about us?”
jihyo nods, before smiling at you and you both start laughing, the alcohol settling into your systems.
and then it happens.
when your laughter dies down, you both stare into each others eyes, both knowing what was next. and jihyo leans in, pressing her soft warm lips against your own. and you kiss back slowly and delicately. her arms wrap around your back, bringing you in closer.
when you both decide to pull away, you just stare at each other unsure of what to say. jihyo decides to break the silence and removes her hands from your back, “im sorry, y/n-“ she tucks her hair behind her ear, “im sorry, i don’t know what came over me. i just-“
you could notice tears forming around the edges of her eyes, her voice cracking as she continues to apologize.
“jihyo.” you say, inhaling deeply. “im not mad or anything,” you tell her in hopes that it would calm her down. and it’s the truth. you weren’t sure how to feel. you feel like the love you have for your best friend just changed, but in a good way. it felt nice.
“really jihyo, it’s okay.” you say softly, “it just caught me by surprise. you know, it all just happened so suddenly.”
jihyo nods, blinking to stop the tears from falling, “well what now?”
you thought carefully before answering, “we could try this… an us. or we can just go back to the way it was. but we don’t have to decide right at this moment. i like us the way we are, whatever that means.” you smile softly at her. jihyo mumbles a quick “okay” before smiling back at you.
“let’s go back down, the wedding will be over soon.” you tell her before you reach your hand out for her to take now, and jihyo grabs your hand as you make your way down the stairs together.
you reach the bottom of the stairs and you scurry to stand in front of her, “now- will you dance with me? i’ll take the lead.” and jihyo giggles before walking to the dance floor together and she’s placing her hands the same way you had done to her.
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strawberrytoki · 7 months
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Wedding season
(Spencer Reid x reader)
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Summary: You and Spencer get invited to a friend's wedding who happens to have a secret agenda: getting Spencer to confess his love for you.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Warnings: none!
Word count: 1,990
a/n: I love this song so much y'all, highly recommend listening while reading.
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Perfectly assembled bouquets of carnations, baby's breath, and most notably, white tulips, elegantly wrapped with dainty threads of sage green ribbons adorned the carefully set tables, on which sat calligraphed name cards placed on lace table runners.
It went without saying that your friend Lily, the bride, gave the best wedding planner money could buy a run for their money. She was nothing short of a visionary, and the picturesque venue she orchestrated proved just that. It was nestled in the heart of a serene garden and every avid pinterest enthusiast mom within a 5 mile radius would drool at the sight.
The two of you always talked down on white-themed weddings because of how overdone they were, but as the years went by, you both started to incrementally understand the appeal, they were flexible, and easily customizable. She was able to add her own personal flair by adding in a little splash of sage green. That splash, excluding the ribbons, was your attire. All the bridesmaids were dressed in sage dresses, and the groomsmen with ties to match.
Everybody and their mother was rushing to get married, considering wedding season was about the wrap up. It made sense, the weather wasn't as hot and there was a wider variety of vendors to choose from, so you should be surprised Lily was able to pull this off with the traffic but she was a very plan-oriented person and she expected you to mirror that. Hence, you knew exactly what to expect out of this day, down to the seating chart. What you weren't expecting, though, was seeing Spencer Reid there. The two of you had been coworkers for a while now, and found yourselves becoming close friends over time. You enjoyed his company, and loved how the eccentric ramblings he'd go on seemed to have no end.
The gears in your head started turning, trying to find an explanation as to why he was here, you didn't mind of course, you just found it odd how you weren't aware he was coming, especially considering how the guest list was practically printed on the back of your eyelids. Spencer was also more your friend than he was Lily's, they were acquainted, but not to the extent where he would show up to her wedding unannounced. Besides, it wasn't something he would do anyway. The most logical explanation was that he was a last minute addition so he wasn't accounted for, it still didn't make sense considering Lily's nature, but that's what you decided to chalk it up to for the time being.
He was clad in a well-fitted suit and had his hair styled in groomed chocolate waves that complimented his features. You noticed that he didn't forgo his staple converse shoes and mismatched socks, which amplified his endearing, awkward appeal. You weren't blind, Spencer was undeniably charming, and there was just something about him in a suit that had you weak in the knees. You developed a small, benign crush on him over the period of time you'd known each other, but you didn't want to jeopardize the friendship the two of you had.
"Hey, Spence." You walked up to him from behind, nudging him on the shoulder. He swiftly turned around, greeting you with a wide smile, a smile you didn't see yourself getting tired of in the foreseeable future. "Y/N!" Spencer embraced you in a warm hug, you never got over how healing his hugs were. "You look beautiful, by the way." You smoothed out your dress and smiled at him, "Thanks Spence, you clean up well yourself." A downward smile took over his face, indicating that he appreciated the compliment. "Lily really knows what she's doing, this place looks like it was cut out of a Pierre-Auguste Renoir painting." Spencer mused.
"Uh huh" you slowly nodded, pretending you had the slightest clue what he was talking about. You appreciated the obscure references he always made, and found yourself learning a thing or two every time he opened his mouth. You also loved how he was never condescending whenever he shared what he knew with others.
The two of you started taking a stroll around the garden, watching the guests slowly pour in, and stare in awe at the venue. Although it wasn't your wedding, you felt a sense of warmth inside, knowing the blood, sweat, and tears your friend poured into making it all happen and witnessing her efforts finally come to fruition.
The ceremony was about to commence, and you took your place near Lily, and gazed at your friend, who made the most radiant bride. Tear-provoking vows along with promises of unconditional love and commitment were made. Despite the immersive exchange of love and feelings, your mind couldn't help but selfishly drift to your own. You caught yourself staring longingly at Spencer. You were always realistic when it came to your feelings and never allowed your mind to wander, but this wedding seemed to put things into perspective, and for a fleeting moment, you cut yourself some slack and allowed yourself the luxury. It felt like a juvenile playground crush and you liked the giddy, fuzzy feeling it gave you, so you let it diffuse.
Telling yourself you didn't want to confess your feelings for Spencer because your friendship was at stake seemed to be the pseudo-truth you liked to tell yourself to sleep better at night, but you had more self-awareness than that. Deep down, in a cold chamber was the unvarnished reality, uninviting and chill, that you resisted accepting. You were worried Spencer didn't feel the same way you did about him. The idea of laying out all your cards on the table and coming clean was horrifying, and getting rejected by someone you deeply cared for was sure to leave a gash you knew would never heal.
Ironically, the often anxiety-inducing uncertainty offered you a warm embrace you didn't want to leave. Every now and then, though, you had the slightest temptation to leave that embrace, and wondered what it would be like to take the chance. High risk, high reward right?
The crowd of guests started making their way to the reception venue to get seated, and you followed suit. While making your way to your table, you noticed Spencer sitting next right next to your seat, which, again, caused you to raise an eyebrow. If you remembered correctly, you were supposed to be seated next to Elle, who was all the way in the back.
Not thinking much of it, you decided to take your seat next to him anyway, and the two of you began chatting away. Shortly after, your conversation was cut short by the newlyweds' toast announcement, and Lily was going first.
"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, I'd like to thank all of you for celebrating this incredibly intimate, special day with Tony and I." She looked down at her now-husband with a vibrant glint of adoration in her eyes, and he looked up, mirroring the same glint.
"To all our loved ones who have made an, I'm sure, arduous commute to get here, I cannot put into words how grateful I am to you. I'd also like to express my love and appreciation to my ever so dependable A team, my lovely bridesmaids." Lily then shifted her eyes to your direction, and she didn't need to verbally announce her gratitude, as her glistening and smiling eyes did the work for her. Spencer looked at you and smiled as well.
"-so I can only pray that everyone here gets to experience the overwhelming love and devotion I'm feeling right now." She looked over at you again, this time with a mischievous grin on her face, and spared Spencer a glance as well. "-and in that spirit, I'd like to make a toast." She raised her glass, and continued. " Here's to hoping the celebration of our union can lead to the conception of new ones- maybe even between some of our own guests here tonight." She made sure to look directly at you and Spencer for what felt like an hour to really cement her message, and several of the guests turned their attention to the two of you. Spencer was no idiot, he probably caught on to what she was implying. He didn't seem as flustered as you were, though.
Subtle.
You felt like your skin was too hot to contain your insides, like there were a million fire ants crawling all over your body. To add fuel to fire, you also felt Spencer's gaze on you, you weren't directly looking at him, but through your peripheral view, you noticed that he looked worried, like you were going to detonate at any second.
Abruptly, you got off of your seat and sprinted without a destination. After any sense of motor control you had was yielded, your legs were in autopilot mode and you allowed them to take you anywhere that wasn't here. Lily was going to cut her announcement short and chase after you, realizing that maybe her method was too overstimulating for you. She then noticed Spencer scrambling off his seat to go after you, so she let the two of you be.
Your feet finally halted at the secluded but well-kept greenhouse overlooking the venue from faraway. You still felt like a fool but your skin did start cooling down a little bit after isolating yourself. You just needed to sort your thoughts out because they were going at about a thousand miles a minute. You realized you weren't going to be doing much of that though, since a part of the reason for this debacle followed you here, and was out of breath.
"Y/N." He choked out, in multiple syllables between pants of short breath.
You slowly brought yourself to face him, but still couldn't look him in the eye. "I don't know what that was that Lily just pulled but-"
"No, Y/N wait." Spencer cut you off, he then inched closer and tilted your chin to face him. "I'm sorry you were put on the spot like that- I wasn't aware that was how this was going to go down."
"This?" You questioned, and he looked hesitant to come clean. He then looked down in what resembled defeat. "Lily invited me here but didn't tell you, I guess she wanted this to be a surprise. The plan was for this to be...seamless, but I suppose we took a little detour?"
You still looked very confused, as the spiel he just went on didn't answer any of your questions.
"Y/N, I'm deeply and agonizingly in love with you, and I suppose Lily discerned that, and offered me an opportunity to tell you how I feel. Of course, I jumped at the chance without realizing that I wasn't aware of the mechanics or how we were going to go about it and for that I am so sorr-"
You were in immense shock, to the point where you almost felt like he was going to change his mind so in an attempt to preserve this moment, you quickly wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. It took him a moment, but he gently held your waist and kissed you back with just as much fervor.
The two of you finally separated, each of you holding on to the other as if they were going to slip away.
"I'm in love with you too, Spencer." The adorable flustered flush that painted his face made this entire shitshow worth it. You figured you eventually had to make your way back to the reception, since you felt like you owed Lily an apology (and an expression of your gratitude). A part of you felt bad for fleeing the scene back at her toast, yet a part of you was grateful for her often blunt approach to things.
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wolfgirlandfarmboy · 25 days
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SPEAKING OF MARRIAGE. have you ever drawn them at their wedding recently? what would their dresses look like.. what would be their song.. who would be invited.. would it be huge or lowkey.. would anything go wrong or would it go off without a hitch.. inquiring minds want to know!
I sadly haven't drawn them in their matching wedding dresses recently 😭 I think the last time I did was this Encanto Redraw
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I really need to update them though especially since I had wedding lore for Lore itself more fleshed out.
AS FOR THEIR WEDDING SONG...maaan I really need to put time aside to specifically put together their actual wedding playlist. There are both SO MANY choices for them yet none because all the songs I have picked for them are too fast pace for a more traditional wedding vibes...I DID cheat a little while answering this ask and look up a list of good R&B songs to play at weddings and found out Jamie Foxx and Beyonce's duet "When I First Saw You" is a REALLY good fit for these two.
When it comes to guests, they would def invite all their close friends (so everyone in Briar Patch basically). Pinokuni is def Jack's best man with Kai being one of his groomsmen while Ashe is for sure one of Nana's bridesmaids along with Xia being a bridesmate.
I see Jack and Nana getting married as the cliche fairytale ending for Beanstalked so Jack SOMEHOW accidentally invites all the cool folks they met throughout their journey together. He'd do it in the "I wanna be nice just so no one feels personally excluded because all these guys were really nice and helped us save the world" and not really expect anyone to truly show up save for 3 or 4 people...
...and then Jack and Nana find out "Oh everyone we sent an invite to actually showed up and now we actually have to figure out how to seat 50+ people in one location"
So it started off initially planned to be lowkey only for it to become VERY highkey at the last second.
It isn't much of a problem though because the spot they have their wedding is outside. SPECIFICALLY at Nana's dad's final resting place..which sounds wild BUT LEMME EXPLAIN--
When he died, he purposely made sure he was in his big ass wolf form so that he wouldn't be hauled off by hunters and taken from his family. So there is a giant wolf skeleton that is located in the Lupine Forest that is kind of one with nature now so it's covered in greenery. It's a little unsettling to those unaware of the lore behind it while also still being serene. Nana goes there often when things get too hard so she can talk to her dad.
She wanted to have her wedding there so she could make sure her dad was present. And Jack was more than willing to oblige her.
Miraculously, even with the giant guest list, everything goes off without a too much of a hitch. I wouldn't say entirely smoothly since that's a lot of people and there's some shenanigans afoot especially at the wedding reception since that's when everyone parties.
BUT it's a very fun experience for them both, even for Nana who is the #1 antisocial of the village.
The couple did take a very well deserved honeymoon in a much quieter place afterwards though. Poor things had to recharge and fully process they were husband and wife now.
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chrollohearttags · 1 year
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I have a question about Musician! Eren and Y/N. What was their wedding like? Thanks
so I definitely feel like somebody asked me this before and I never got around to answering it but to simply put, it would be one big, giant house party!
now, they of course would go the traditional route with the ceremony, vows, inviting their friends and family..all of that. Of course, being the way they are, everything would have to be lavish and luxurious. So (y/n) would have a beautiful gown..something out of a fairy tale with a twenty inch long train that has to be carried. Because hello, you’ve been waiting your entire life for this moment. It would be hand sewn, custom made and costing in the upper thousands but worth every red cent. On the day of the ceremony, as you’re getting ready, you’d open a box with the words ‘To (y/n) inscribed on the top. Once you open it, it’s a beautiful hair clip, given to you by your grandmother; the woman who raised you..along with a handwritten letter. She had long since left this world but she saved that in case of the day that you’d become someone’s wife. She wanted to be with you on your special day, even if not in person. What made it even more so special..is that you figured it had been lost forever but your sweet Eren had tracked it down and made certain that it got to you before the big day. It took everything in you not to cry and ruin your makeup. You knew you were marrying the right man. The colors would probably be something along the lines of white and lavender or a beautiful burgundy. The bridesmaids dresses would be equally as top tier because you wouldn’t want your girls looking less gorgeous either. I feel like Eren would have the flyest suit known to man. Like some royal type shit..he’s about to get married to the love of his life? Best believe he’s putting that shit ON. From the diamond watch, the embellished shoes…everything. His boys aren’t looking any old way either. Everybody looks good as hell. As for the venue, it’d be stunning. Butterflies and beautiful scenery decorating the walls, light strewn everywhere and it’s a whole production. I feel as though there would be a film crew..not so much to televise but make sure every moment is captured and edited into a beautiful package later.
the song you choose to come down to is Back At One by Brian McKnight because it’s one of the first he ever did a cover too and you loved it.
the ceremony goes on as usual and let me say, when he sees you walking down the aisle,on your uncle’s arm..that man loses his mind. He’s crying before you can even get to him and you can’t hold it together when you see his face. This is literally the best day of his life. When you two finally join hands, it’s like no one else in the room. You can’t stop smiling at each other. When the pastor asks if anyone wants to object, he gives a side eye, wishing that somebody would and everybody starts laughing. “That’s what I thought. Continue, pastor.” When it’s time to read the vows, not a dry eye is in that building. You guys give the most beautiful, heartfelt confessions of love to one another that anyone has ever heard. The way he describes you is like perfect poetry. “I was never much into praying..feeling like there’s no way God would ever listen to a sinner like me. I didn’t deserve it. But I imagine when he created you, he had to hear my heart and know that you were everything I could’ve ever wished for.” No one’s ever spoken about you like that and you tell him just how much he means to you. How he is the best thing that ever happened in your life. “I never knew a love like this one even existed. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way about one person.” And he’s literally crying. Everything goes on and when the officiant says to kiss the bride, he pulls your veil off and tongues you down in front of everybody. (No shame).
the rest of the ceremony is amazing. From the first dance done to a song he recorded just for you two where he held you close to all of your friends telling embarrassing stories about the two of you. (and they’re on yalls asses because what else would besties do?) but they know that no two people deserve more happiness than you guys. After all these formalities are done…that’s when the fun begins!
by 9PM, all the parents, old folks and kids gotta go because it’s like LIV on a Saturday night. Bottles coming out, a DJ and it’s up. You and all the bridesmaids start throwing ass and the groom and his men are glad to catch it. None of that boujie shit! Half a million on this wedding, best believe y’all are showing out. Giving him a lap dance to Big Ole Freak to everybody dancing to Faneto by Chief Keef. It’s crazy. It’s so much fun and y’all are having a ball just like you did when you were best friends. It’s like an entire movie and you can’t believe you get to spend the rest of your life with someone who constantly makes you smile. Y’all party until the early AM and then it’s time for the honeymoon!
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security-chief-odo · 7 months
Text
The Fake Dating Job
Eliot Spencer (Leverage) x Reader
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Description: Your sister's wedding is coming up and you already told her you had a date. The only problem is you don't. With none of the rest of your team available, your only option is to bring Eliot Spencer, who you just happen to be madly in love with.
Word Count: 1.2k
• • •
It is a bitter cold day out and you can still feel the chill down your spine as you enter the bar. You’re just happy to be in from the cold when Nate waves you over to the bar where he’s sat.
Nate hands you an envelope. “You get your mail delivered here?”
You shrug, “Well, I’m not in the habit of giving out my own address – especially not to my family.” Nate raises an eyebrow at your addition, clearly looking for you to elaborate. “It’s my sister’s wedding invitation. I’m a bridesmaid, but I honestly don’t even want to go.”
“Then why’d you accept?”
“Well at the time, I didn’t know one of the other bridesmaids would be bringing my ex, who was a total dick.”
“Ah.” He nods his head.
“Yeah and when my sister asked if it would be ok, I may or may not have told her ‘yes because I have my own date to bring”, which I don’t.” You let out a sigh, “Any shot I could talk you into being my pretend boyfriend?”
“If you’re trying to make your family think you’re doing fine, I don’t think bringing someone your father’s age will do the job.”
“Fair point, but I don’t exactly have an expansive social group to ask.” You let your head fall into your hands, “I’ll figure it out. Thanks for listening to me complain.”
“Anytime y/n.” He returns to nursing his drink as you head up to the loft to see if maybe you could talk one of the others into accompanying you.
Upstairs you find Hardison and Parker sitting together. They were very clearly bickering before you entered the room and it has devolved into childish mocking and light shoving. Hardison is holding his keys out of Parker’s reach. You can’t help but chuckle at the scene before you.
“Hey, y/n, can you tell Hardison I’m a perfectly fine driver?”
“Y/n, would you tell Parker that “perfectly fine drivers” don’t give their team whiplash every time they’re behind the wheel?” Hardison looks at you pleadingly.
Putting your hands up, you reply, “I’m not getting in the middle of this one, but I actually came up here for a reason”
Despite their previous focus on their argument, all disagreement seemed to be dropped now that there was a new person and a point of conversation. Hardison put the keys in his pocket and both turned their attention to you.
“So my sister’s wedding is coming up and I told her I had a date, but the problem is I really don’t.”
“Then why would you say you did?” Parker chimed in.
“Well I found out one of the bridesmaids is bringing my shitty ex boyfriend and I didn’t want them to think I was still into him – which I’m not, he’s the worst. I don’t know, I guess I want my family to think I’m doing well and my ex to know I’m better off without him.”
“But now they’re going to know the truth.” Parker nodded along.
“Well, not exactly. I came up here to ask if maybe you would be my fake girlfriend for the wedding.”
Before Parker had a moment to respond Hardison incredulously replied, “Wait, you’re asking her first? You think your family is going to like Parker more than they’d like me? I thought your mom loved me?”
Hardison had been with you when you ran into your mom in the city several months back and she had invited you both out to lunch.
“She did, but that’s kind of the problem, you’re the only one here who has met my mom, and we’d have to do a lot more work to convince them. And all I told them about my “new partner” is that we met at a coffee shop.”
“So that pulls me out of the race.”
“Exactly, so Parker will you be my fake girlfriend?” You hold out the invitation to her.
“Sure,” she starts reading through the invitation, “Wait, it's in two weeks?”
“Yeah I know it’s short notice but I kinda put off giving her an address for the invite and –”
Parker cuts you off, “It’s not that. It’s just that Hardison and I will be going to a convention out of town that weekend for one of his video games. I won’t be able to make it.”
“Fuck” you let out a groan.
“Why don’t you ask Eliot?” Parker suggests. This was something you were hoping to avoid. You’ve been head over heels for Eliot for probably a year. Maybe it would be better to go alone and just tell your family a different lie about a fake breakup from your fake partner.
Hardison has known all about your crush for months and the moment you look at him a knowing grin crosses his face, “Yeah, why don’t you ask Eliot?”
“You know damn well why that’s a bad idea.”
Parker glances confused between the two of you. “Well who are you bringing then? Nate?”
“He said no.”
“So you asked Nate before you asked me?” Hardison replies in mock offense. You roll your eyes at his theatrics.
“What about Sophie?” Parker adds.
“The goal is for my family not to focus too much on me and my date, and I’m pretty sure she would have the exact opposite agenda.”
Parker smiles a little at your remark. “That’s a fair point.”
“Then I think you’re gonna have to ask Eliot.” Hardison replies just a little too smug.
Just then you hear the door close behind you. “Ask Eliot what?”
Of course he walked in just in time to hear his own name. “It’s nothing.” You glare at Hardison as both he and Parker get up and leave the room to avoid this awkward conversation.
“Aw come on sweetheart. Don’t be like that.” He plops down into the chair next to you and gestures to the door that the other two just walked through “You know they’ll tell me if you don’t.”
You think about it for a moment as he stares at you with a lopsided grin. “Fine,” you sigh, “I need a date for my sister’s wedding in two weeks because my shitty ex will be there. You don’t have to go though, I’m sure I’ll figure som–”
Eliot cuts you off. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding”
“You really don’t have to Eliot. My family can be a lot and you would have to pretend to be my boyfriend all night and for the rehearsal dinner. I can’t ask that of you.”
“I don’t mind.” He adds with a smile.
You. Are. So. Fucked.
Just this conversation already had you nervous and your heart racing. You aren’t prepared to spend a whole weekend with Eliot. Not to mention the whole pretending to date part of it all, while also trying not to give away your feelings to Eliot. This man and his stupid fucking smile will be the death of you.
• • •
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Read Chapter 2 here!
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astroboots · 1 year
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RSVP
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Summary: A prequel to Homecoming set 10 years before. The moment Santiago realizes he's missed his chance with you.
Homesick masterlist | Homecoming Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist
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We invite you to share with us a celebration of love for the wedding reception of William Miller and Abigail Jackson.
Santiago stares down at the invitation. It's a showy calligraphy font with lots of rounded gold-gilded curves offset with the pink blossoms, roses and carnation in the background of the card.
A bit tacky for his tastes, and personally he'd probably would've opted for something much simpler, but luckily he's not the one on the hook and three hours from getting married.
He leans back against the car seat, trying to make himself more comfortable, eyes drifting to the side mirror that gives him a decent angle of your front door.
Thirty minutes.
He's been sat in this car for thirty. Whole. Minutes.
You never take this long to get ready for anything. The normal routine is: throw on the cleanest shirt and jeans combo you have on hand. Or if you're feeling really fancy, a dress you have abandoned and forgotten in the corner of your closet before you jump into the car, applying makeup as best as you can, while he drives you to where you two need to go.
He's never had to sit in a car waiting for you for half an hour while you get ready.
Not for your graduation.
Not for your first job interview.
Heck, not even when you were a bridesmaid to your best friend's wedding (because you'd both overslept and you ended up clumsily pulling on the bridesmaid's gown in the backseat while he was racing down the highway to the hotel where the bride was staying with minutes to spare).
So why on earth you would need this long to prepare for Ironhead's wedding reception is beyond him. There's hardly going to be any royalty there.
Santiago sighs, reaching over the dashboard to change the radio station when from the corner of his eyes, you've finally decided to grace him with your presence. In the side mirror, he sees you locking up the front door and approach the car.
The pale blue of your dress sways in the mirror.
Santiago is confused. You're wearing a new dress. One he knows he's never seen before on you.
It's a pretty little thing. Sheer blue lace, and a flowing line that hugs your hips flatteringly. The fabric of the summer dress flutters in the wind when you walk, the edges of the skirt flirting with your thighs as it rides up slightly and he can feel his brows arch in question as you approach the passenger side of the car.
"That's new," he says, as you open the door and scoot into the passenger seat.
You look up at him as if you don't know what he's talking about, and when he gestures at the dress, you just shrug, like there's nothing unusual here to see.
"It's a wedding reception Santiago, what else am I going to wear?"
He catches you inspecting your makeup in the mirror, your chin tilted upwards as your lips part to make sure the red lipstick and gloss on top hasn't smeared.
It feels surreal somehow, like he's wandered into a house of mirrors at a funfair. It's you, but you're behaving like something alien to him.
As he starts the car and pull out the driveway, the thought vaguely occurs to him that he needs to rewatch Body Snatchers, because he's pretty sure this is how it starts.
Still, you do look very pretty.
"The dress looks good on you," he tells you when the car's at a standstill at a red light.
The corners of your lips curve into a soft smile, and you look so happy that Santiago tells himself that if you have gotten body-snatched, he's just going to have to learn to co-exist with aliens now.
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It's a big gathering held in a beautiful garden space. There are all the usual trappings of a Pinterest wedding fare. Fairy lights hung up in trees. Pink balloons and mason jars scattered on rustic looking wooden farm tables that he knows must've cost a leg and an arm on Will's paltry salary check.
His body is tensing. Leg itchy and Santiago feels like he can't stand still in one spot. The lingering pain in his right knee acting up again. The last surgery should have fixed it, and the surgeon had warned him it's probably psychosomatic at this point, but whether it's real or make-believe doesn't help Santiago when the pain is there.
There's a lot of familiar faces from the army here, which Santiago doesn't love.
It's not something he does, bring you around where that world can sink its contaminated claws into you. He doesn't want you near it.
Doesn't want you to hear the confusing military jargon, and have to explain what "Dependa means", or to have one of his "buddies" refer to you as a "civilian".
He never likes it when you're reminded that out of the eight to ten months he's gone for the year, there's a dividing line separating your life from his that you are not part of.
Doesn't want you to be faced with the fact that when he's not here next to you, he's not your Santiago. He's not the guy you grew up, the one you always beat at Street Fighter and used to run a racketeering at the local pool hall for pocket money.
Doesn't want you to think of the fact that when he's out there, he's committing war crimes under a legal technicality courtesy of Uncle Sam, the way some dumb misguided 18-year-olds were shipped to both your motherlands once upon a time and burnt it down with napalm and bullets some decades ago.
Fuck, he doesn't want you to be here. Should never have invited you.
But Frankie had accidentally blabbed about Will's wedding last week, asking, in front of you, who Santiago was bringing as his plus one. You had looked up at him with such big excited eyes, because you fucking love weddings, and you are always his plus one. What was he supposed to say? No?
It's so uncharacteristically clumsy of the man and Santiago swears, if Frankie wasn't his best friend, he could've killed him for that.
Santiago scans the space, spotting more pink flower arrangements, carnations and pink tulips and hydrangeas, it looks like a pink confetti bomb went off in this space.
Under a large tree of heavy branches carrying pink cherry blossoms, Santiago spots the very culprit he was thinking of. Frankie is leaning against the thick trunk. He's looking as uncomfortable as ever in the big crowd, obviously hiding away so he doesn't have to make mindless conversation with the other wedding guests. Shoulders slump so low, the man looks like he's trying to shrink into the tree.
Santiago shakes his head. It's hard to ever stay mad at Frankie. He couldn't even if he tried.
Jutting out his arm, Santiago looks to you as your arm curl around his. The unbending tension in his neck seems to melt away when you are pressed to his side. He can feel your sun-warmed skin brushing up against him, as the two of you make your way over to Frankie.
"Hi Frank," Santiago greets.
Frankie looks up, those big brown eyes fill with absolute relief at seeing a friendly face. The man is all soft smiles as he lets out a long exhale, the tension fizzling out of his frame.
"What you don't like weddings?" Santiago teases.
From Santiago's side, you slip out your hand where it's looped against him arm, and wave at Frankie despite that you're not even two feet away from each other. You're acting a bit awkward, your greeting a bit stiff. There's a warm and almost nervous smile on your face that makes Santiago raise a questioning eyebrow.
"Hi Frankie," you say and your voice is all soft and buttery and breathless.
Frankie's eyes darts towards you and when the man sees you, he looks like he damn near swallowed his whole damn tongue.
It's bizarre.
Both of you are acting strange.
From the outside looking in, it probably looks innocuous, just two good friends having a conversation, catching up after not having seen each other for several months.
Except it's not. Something is different. He can tell because he knows you both so well. Something is just slightly off.
Santiago sips his beer as Frankie's telling you about how much he liked the book you lent him before he got shipped off. He's recanting how he'd read them in his mosquito filled tent, while sitting in the back of a truck waiting to be transported to another town. He's telling you the bits and pieces of his everyday life on the other side that Santiago never shares with you, and Santiago doesn't know how to feel.
The fact that Frankie can so easily share that part of his life with you, without batting an eye, like it's the easiest thing. The fact that you're nodding and smiling, responding with details of your daily life at school and work, like it's no big deal.
There's no dividing line between you and the two of you act like all of this is completely normal.
Except it's not normal.
Because Frankie's taken off his cap and he's no longer hiding under it. As at ease with you he might seem, he's also nervously running his fingers through his hair over and over again while he talks to you. He can't take his eyes off your face, tongue darting over his bottom lip while he's staring at your mouth while you laugh.
And you? You're smiling and laughing with your whole face as you listen to Frankie's story. It's a smile so big and bright and unrestrained in a way that Santiago's always thought was reserved just for him.
And he doesn't know how he feels about that either.
Santiago is watching Frankie's eyes trail over your collarbone down to your legs. Eyes rounding into big saucer and the effect is almost cartoonish. It makes Santiago want to roll his eyes, this man never could rein back his appreciation for a good sundress.
And oh.
Oh.
This is why you're wearing a new dress.
Santiago blinks, feet rooted to the ground, stupefied as the realization hits him.
You wore this for Frankie.
You took half an hour to get ready for Frankie.
You were excited to come here... For Frankie.
Santiago is the third wheel.
And he finally figures out how he feels about that. 
Like shit. 
That’s how he feels about it. 
Not that Santiago lets it show. He smiles, he nods, he cracks jokes with the two of you. Makes jabs at Frankie and teases you, like there’s nothing wrong. 
Still he smiles, he smiles so wide and so fake his fucking cheeks hurt with the muscle ache of it. Smiles like there's nothing wrong. Like his whole fucking world isn’t imploding before his eyes and he’s watching it burn down to a crisp to the background ambiance of the warm afternoon sun and the live music of a string quartet. 
Dramatic? yes, doesn't make it any less true for him.
Fuck, his knees hurt.
Santiago’s eyes roam over the space filled faces that are all smiling and laughing. Everyone’s happy. Drinking and eating and laughing. In this intimate space, surrounded by a crowd of people celebrating life and love, he’s never felt more lonely in his life. 
He feels like he’s drowning, head held under the surface. There’s a claustrophobic pressure hugging his ribs and his lungs squeeze painfully tight. He can’t fucking breathe, and he wonders if he could die here without anyone noticing that anything is wrong and--
“Santiago.”
His eyes blink, focusing in on your worried face as you’re peering up at him. “Are you ok? You look a bit pale.” 
“Uhm, yeah sorry. I…”
Your eyes are staring back at him, piercingly sharp. They feel like a scalpel held against his raw tender skin poised to make an incision. 
He looks away, unable to hold your gaze, eyes flittering over the crowd. “Sorry, I think I see someone I know that I have to say hi to… and catch up with.”
“Oh yeah?” Frankie throws a look over his shoulder, “who did you spot?”
Santiago scans the space for a familiar face, any familiar face that will serve as an exit route.
There’s Jones, his former captain back in the early days. The asshole who used to call Santiago ‘pretty boy’ derisively, and make him do pull ups until he felt so sick that the contents of his breakfast would end up outside of his body again.
To his left, Will is making the rounds from table to table, greeting and thanking the guests for coming. Will is too busy, which isn’t an option. 
“Jones,” Santiago murmurs, and the moment he says it, Santiago already knows he made a mistake. 
Frankie’s face scrunches up in distaste. “What are you talking about? That guy is an asshole. You hated him back in the army, why do you wanna catch up with him?"
Santiago laughs it off, because he can’t very well tell Frankie the truth. That Santiago feels the walls closing in and needs to get away from the two of you. So he makes up a cheeky lie. 
“Guy owes me money.” He pats Frankie on the shoulder, and juts his chin in your direction. “Keep her company for me will ya?”
He turns to leave, and for a brief moment his eyes catch yours.
Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on Santiago's part, but he swears that for the first since you arrived, your smile falters. There’s something in your expression, the way your brows scrunches up, hands hovering mid-air as if you’re about to reach for his sleeve, that tells him you don’t want him to go. 
A snide critical voice in his head thinks he’s delusional. He’s just reading into something that isn’t there. Because why would you care? You’re perfectly happy in Frankie’s company.
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In this moment as Santiago stands here before his former captain, he is regretting every single decision in his life that has led him here.
That he was a dumb naive teenager at the age of 17 that was tempted by a shopping mall recruiter to go "see the world" by joining the army. That he ended up in this man's regiment. That he didn't RSVP Will's invitation with: 'thank you but no thank you'. That in all his years of being in close range fire he somehow hasn't ended up with hearing damage that would have spared him from listening to this man talk.
Santiago glances over to where he had left you and Frankie half an hour ago, because he can't even be bothered with the pretense of acting even vaguely interested in what Captain Asshole has to say.
Santiago's been observing the two of you throughout. At first, it was awkward between the two of you. Because even though the two of you are no strangers to one another, usually Santiago is always around to play intermediary when there's a lull in the conversation.
You were hugging yourself, eyes darting to the ground, feet shifting. Frankie wouldn't stop running his fingers through his goddamned hair even as it started to look like a bird's nest that's fallen off a tree. The two of you were standing some distance apart, and Santiago cringed inwardly at the scene...
But if Santiago is being completely above board and honest... there's a small tiny sliver of a piece of him that was happy about that. That there's still a space for him between you and Frankie.
It doesn't stay that way of course. As the evening goes on and the harsh bright Florida sun starts to dim, the fairy lights flicker to life. It bathes everything in that romantic soft amber light against darkening canvas of the sky.
Frankie lends you his old worn jacket as you start to shiver. Then gradually, you two are inching closer and closer until you're standing shoulder to shoulder.
Santiago gets to witness it in real time, how the space between the two of you is closing (as is his place between you). He doubt he could physically squeeze himself between you even if he tried.
It's never gonna be a pleasant feeling to know that his best friends have just made him redundant. He knows that, and running away the way he did was probably not the most mature thing he's ever done. But now that he's seeing it from a distance, he can see how happy you two look. He has two seeing eyes after all.
For the first time in a long time, Frankie looks completely at ease. There's a soft glow to his cheeks as he's looking at you, utterly besotted, and you're smiling so wide your eyes are crinkling at the corners.
Santiago takes another sip from his beer, and despite the sickly sweetness, the beverage still warms his stomach. There are worse things in the world than seeing the two people he loves the most in the world happy, even if he's not the reason for it... right?
He peers out over the setting sun, squinting against the amber brightness and even among the buzzing crowd he can pick up the sound of your laughter distinctly from everything else. It's all he can hear.
It's funny how he never saw it before. But the two of you would be perfect for each other.
Frankie’s a bit quiet, and maybe he’s a little bit shy sometimes and takes a while to open up. But he doesn’t run away from his problems. Not like Santiago does. He’d never leave you if things started to get too serious or too hard; Santiago’s not sure he could make that same promise. But he knows Frankie can. Santiago knows how good Frankie would be to you.
And you? Just looking at the two of you now, he can see how Frankie's comfortable around you. Practically lighting up like the Rockerfeller center. Frankie looks like someone took an electrical socket and plugged it into him and he's buzzing and alight as he talks to you, Santiago can't remember the last time he's seen Frankie so animated... so at ease. Except maybe when he and Frankie are left to their own devices, during downtime, just the two of them, without having to hold a weapon in their hands.
"Captain! Mind if I borrow Pope here for a second?"
Santiago blinks out of his reverie to see the man of the hour, the groom himself in front of him.
Like a guardian angel descending from the heavens, Will stands with the sun glowing behind him, the golden boy.
The Captain nods, patting Will on the back, making some crude and off-handed and inappropriate joke about how "it's all downhill from here" not even a handful of hours after the man's nuptials.
Will doesn't smile, just juts his head with a nod, as they both watch the man depart. Then when he's out of hearing range, Will turns to Santiago.
"What the fuck were you doing with that guy?"
Santiago sips his bottle, and tips his head in the direction where the two of you are sitting. "Just wanted to give the two of them some space."
Will turns around and observes the two of you.
"Right," Will says, but his tone is gruff and serious, grinding his teeth as he observes. Will has never been the type to make any comments about anyone's personal lives, it's not his style.
"It's not my place to say something," he starts, then he stops, mulls it over as if deciding whether he's really going to say something.
The man shakes his head, then takes a deep breath. "Look, just... are you sure about this?" Will says.
It's all he says, he doesn't flesh out what he means. Just looks Santiago dead in the eye, with that sober Ironhead expression that he's so famous for.
Santiago doesn't pretend he doesn't know what Will is talking about. The man is smart. Santiago's not going to condescend him and play the game of the dumb best friend who doesn't realize he's in love with his best friend. It'd be like spitting in the man's face.
Instead Santiago takes a deep breath, and down the rest of his beer.
In front of him, Frankie's waving his hand so animatedly he nearly knocks over a canape tray from a waiter that was walking by behind him, and you're having a laughing fit over it.
Santiago doesn't know the answer to Will's question. He doesn't know what there is to be sure or unsure about. But he does know one thing... The two of you look good together.
Who is he to be in the way of that?
After all, Santiago has always had hang ups about how no one is good enough for you. Because you are his best friend and you deserve the best, and if Santiago is not gonna pull his head out of his own ass, at least Frankie will always take care of you and be there for you.
Frankie is a good man. A patient man, a kind man. The type of man he wishes he could be sometimes. He'd be better for you than Santiago thinks he ever could be. 
Who's to say this isn't going to be the best thing that's ever happened to the three of you?
"Yeah man," Santiago says as he tears his eyes away from the two of you. "I'm sure."
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Credits and Dedication: To @thirstworldproblemss who already had to see this angst-fest a year or so ago and have to deal with my constant angsting over these three for funsies.
A/N: Sloppy written angst before I go on a two week hiatus as we're on a long holiday to get away from the rain and enjoy some sunshine on the Amalfi coast! I love you guuuuuys!
Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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pascaloverx · 7 months
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Invisible Bonds: The Power of Destiny
Author's Note: This fanfic contains possible strong language and explores themes of unconventional love. The relationship between the protagonists will be handled with sensitivity, without explicit scenes.
preview chapter two
*pictures credits are not mine, credits belong to their owners
Chapter One
You woke up feeling discouraged, but with a hopeful feeling that things would get better. How could you not feel hopeful when the love of your life is about to marry an incredible woman?
"Darling, Taehyung called to let you know he'll be waiting for you at the beauty salon. He said you'd know which one. He also wanted to remind you that he remembered to pick up the tuxedo and the shoes. He asked you to call his friend about the wedding rings." Your mother shouted from downstairs, and you felt the urge to never leave your bed again. How could you be a bridesmaid in a wedding you theoretically should prevent? But then again, who are you to go against the dictates of destiny?
Your mother came to visit you this weekend because Taehyung considers her a second mother, and she's thrilled to see her heart's son getting married. She has already given up of the ideia of you getting married.
You shout back that you're already getting ready to meet the groom. Damn, you had forgotten to call Taehyung's childhood friend, Jungkook. You haven't met him in person, but you've heard the guys talk a lot about him. And by guys, you mean the college friends you met through Taehyung: Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin. The lilac dress that the bride has chosen for all the bridesmaids is so delicate that you feel like you shouldn't even take it out of the closet. You quickly slip into it and fix your hair within minutes. Why take your time when you're not the bride, right?
Finishing getting ready, you search for Jungkook's number on your phone. You wonder why you volunteered to help with this wedding and why, out of everyone, you ended up with the task of calling this guy. The phone rings and rings, but no one answers. When I call again, he finally picks up. His voice is hoarse; it feels like I just woke him up. Oops...
"There better be a good reason for calling me this early in the morning then..." He says in an almost rude tone. You wonder if there's a way to slap someone through the phone. Perhaps in the future, there will be.
"Good morning, Jungkook. I hate to break it to you, but as an adult, you should've been up hours ago. My name is (Y/N), and I'd like to know if the wedding rings and their bearer will be here on time for the wedding." You reply, trying to be as patient as possible, but honestly, you're furious. Always having to deal with other people's issues.
"Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful voice? Ever thought about becoming a singer or a voice actor?" He says while you can hear noises in the background, a woman murmuring something. He's too busy getting romantically involved with someone to remember to be a good friend, how wonderful.
"Instead of trying to flatter me, make sure you're here at the agreed time and with the rings. If you want to invite your company to come along, feel free. But know that if you mess something up today, I'll be your particular nightmare." You say as sternly as possible. You even slow down your speech in the last part to appear more intimidating.
"If this is your way of asking if I'll be accompanied today, the answer is no. As for the rest, I'll do exactly as you asked, if you promise to reward me at the end of the night." He says, trying to be seductive. You prefer to pretend you didn't hear that proposition.
"I'm sorry to burst your fantasies, but I don't plan on getting involved with anyone. You can pretend that I'm saving myself for my other half." You reply firmly, putting an end to any further advances.
"Believing in soulmates is for fools. I bet I can convince you otherwise at the wedding." You don't even know the guy, but you're already envious of his arrogance.
"Listen, I have things to do and can't waste time. I expect to see you in a few hours, appropriately dressed and with wedding rings in your pocket." You say firmly, ending the conversation and hanging up the phone.
You descend the stairs, seeing the table full of food that your mother is packing for you to freeze and eat during the week. You thank her and let her know you won't be able to have breakfast together. She says she doesn't want to inconvenience you, knowing that Taehyung needs you. You nod in agreement and give your mother a goodbye kiss. A few minutes later, you're finishing up the last details at the reception hall. Of course, you had already organized things at the church. Everything is going as planned. You arrive at the beauty salon where the bride and groom are getting their skin and hair done.
"I was starting to miss you. You look breathtaking." Taehyung says as he gets up from the chair where he was finishing his makeup. He looks so radiant, as if his smile could light up the world. It heals me even as it hurts. He isn't my soulmate; God knows he never thought of me romantically, but I simply love him.
"Look who's talking. Haewon is going to feel incredibly lucky when she sees you walking down the aisle like this. Although, she looks stunning. I sneakily peeked because I thought you'd want to know." You say as you adjust Taehyung's tie.
"I'm so nervous. It's worse than that time we were at a concert, and I got called up on stage to sing. I don't know how I'm going to walk down the aisle and wait for my future wife patiently." He says as you lock at each other. It's not romantic, but it's a moment of tenderness. After all, he is my best friend, and he's getting married.
""Taehyung, today you embark on a new chapter of your life, and I have no doubt that your love story with Haewon will be as magical as the bond that you guys already share. No nervousness in the world will ruin your moment." You say, trying to be as positive as possible.
"You always know what to say. I love you, you know that?" He says, hugging you.
"I love you too, now come on. We have a beautiful wedding waiting for you, and it's not nice to keep the bride waiting." You say as you send a message to the driver, letting them know Taehyung is ready to go. According to the schedule, Haewon will be making her grand entrance in about ten minutes.
The journey from the salon to the church takes about five minutes. Up until now, everything has been going perfectly. Right now, Taehyung is surrounded by friends and is nervous. Not because of the bride, but because Jungkook hasn't arrived yet. That idiot.
You knew you shouldn't have trusted him to get the rings. You can't believe he's going to mess everything up in the end. And just as you lose patience completely, Jungkook walks into the church. At least, you think he's Jungkook. I must admit he looks elegant, almost like he stepped out of a movie. He arrives with a smile, as if he's the main attraction.
And suddenly, you feel it—a suffocating sensation as if the air has been sucked out of the world. A pain in your chest so immense that it makes you stumble, clinging onto Taehyung for support. Then you notice Jungkook doesn't seem well either. Damn, this can only mean one thing. As your body collapses to the ground and your consciousness fades, amidst people shouting and lifting me to call for medical help, you feel something inside you that only soulmates feel for each other. You can't believe that out of all the people in the world, your other half is Jeon Jungkook.
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Note
AITA for calling my mother and MIL selfish, insecure, pieces of shit over a friend's necklace?
Some background: I, 25F, just married the love of my life, who we'll call J.
I was introduced to J in our junior year of high school by our mutual friend, who we'll call G. G has always been a super important person to us. She is one of our best friends, and the three of us are very close. She was actually the first person we told when we started dating. We are both pretty protective over G, as she is autistic and has crippling anxiety and struggles a lot day to day. She was actually living with us when this story occurred because she had been spiraling on her own, and her parents lived too far for her to commute to her work from their house. She's been in therapy for years and has been doing a lot better than when we first met her, but we still tend to be pretty protective over her, as she has very few friends besides us. We often joke that she's our practice kid because she goes everywhere with us and has a complete lack of common sense despite being one of the smartest people I know.
In the last week of our junior year, J gave me, G, and another friend of his, necklaces that he made. They were nothing fancy, just pieces of rocks that he carved (?) and tied a string around, but G loved it. It acted as a reminder that she had people who cared about her when her anxiety spiked, and she's worn it almost every day for the last 9 years, to the point where J replaced the string with a thin chain because it broke from use. It's a comfort item, and wearing it is part of her routine.
Another important thing to note is that J and I both have pretty bad relationships with all of our parents. Both of our parents are messily divorced, and the only ones we visit regularly are my dad and stepmom. We still decided to invite all of them to the wedding and involve our mom's in the wedding party to avoid drama, and because some small part of me still wanted my mom to be involved in my wedding like a real parent.
Shortly before our wedding, I was talking to my mom and J's mom in our kitchen about some details for the wedding party and the bridesmaid and groomsmen accessories. I made a joke that no matter what we picked, G would be wearing her necklace. They wanted to know what I meant, and while I was explaining, G came into the kitchen to grab a snack. (Side note: neither of them like G, and my mom in particular has made several abelist comments in the past about her stimming or lack of social awareness) When I was done, my mom turned to G and asked if she was going to wear it at our wedding. Confused, G said yes, and my mom lost it. She called her disrespectful and accused her of trying to break up me and J because J gave her that necklace, and it was bad manners to wear a present from the groom or something. J's mom backed her up and said a lot of awful things I won't repeat, but were really abelist, arophobic (G is open about being aromantic), and included several slurs.
I was completely blindsided. I knew they had those awful opinions, but I had never heard them do anything even remotely close, and I sat there stunned at first until G started to cry and hyperventilate (she has trauma around situations similar to this, and she was already on edge because of a recent death in her family). When that happened, it was like a switch flipped. I got between G and my mom, who at this point had gotten out of her seat and was getting close to G. I told them both to get out, and when they refused I told them they were selfish, insecure, pieces of shit, that they had no right to say any of that to G, and that just because they couldn't keep their husband's didn't mean they had any right to interfere and try to create problems where there weren't any.
At this point, J came home and saw G panicking and immediately reacted. He told our moms to leave, and this time, they left. After they left, it took us almost 2 hours to calm G down from her panic attack, and the whole time, I was boiling with rage over the interaction. After she fell asleep, I told J what had happened. He was completely on my side, and we even discussed banning them from the wedding unless they apologized. G has been far more supportive of us than they have been, and if I had to choose, I would rather have her by my side on my wedding day. Ultimately, we let G decide since she was the one they went after, and she said she would be okay, so they came to the wedding and thankfully didn't mention the necklace at all. However, they told our respective families what happened, and I've been getting texts from family members telling me I went too far in bringing up their divorces, and that I should apologize, especially since the fight was over something as small as a necklace.
I don't think I was wrong to defend G, but I know I tend to overreact in situations where she is involved, and J is as bad as I am. So, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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aritany · 4 months
Note
sorry to be nosy, but do u have any insights as someone who went through a divorce at a young age?
don't be sorry - what a fascinating question! it's STORYTIME. i don't know if this is so much my 'insights' as it is ruminations, but i digress.
i guess my number one tip would be: don't marry a bigot,,,
i'm kidding. mostly.
i'm very transparent about why i got divorced (if you know me in real life, you know how true this is), but that's what it boiled down to. i got married VERY young, 95% due to deeply religious family on both sides, 5% because i truly believed i had found the person i was going to be with forever. if you're going to be together forever, why not just bite the bullet and get married young, right?
i came out to my ex-husband as bisexual super early on in our relationship (i think 2 months into dating) because i obviously needed him to a) know i was queer and b) be cool about it, and he was. if i recall, he said, "oh. ok, good for you."
(later, he told me that that moment was almost a dealbreaker for him. i NEVER would have known, based on how he reacted in the moment.)
as a married couple, we were awesome roommates and very good friends and overall a wonderful team. then i started properly deconstructing christianity around the same time i started thinking about gender, and covid hit immediately after. i didn't come out to anyone as nonbinary until march 2021, and when i did, he was the first person i talked to. he was... significantly less cool about it than he was with bisexuality.
here's the thing. he LOVED having a wife. in hindsight, it's really easy to see that i could have been anyone, and he was really ready to settle down. i have to give myself some credit, because i think i'm excellent, but i do think that to some extent i was in the right place at the right time and checked off a lot of his boxes. if that sounds a little cold to you -- a SHOCKING amount of cishet men do this. it's weird.
anyway, i was His Wife™, and while i was by no means a traditional christian wife, i was still a very she/her slay queen girly.
then i started committing sins. (got some tattoos. started writing about The Gays. started speaking out against the church. Cut My Hair Short [cue gasps]. started dressing more androgynously.)
he couldn't get his head around using gender neutral language for me. to his students (he was in education at the time) i was His Wife. to his family, i was His Wife, even after i came out to them too. classic wifeguy stuff.
my current partner (who is SO wonderful) was in the process of becoming that best friend you have really confusing gay feelings about, and had to deal with me talking about this and how i was just going to have to settle for being with this guy who wouldn't respect my gender, even when that disrespect started actually making my skin crawl when he'd get close. because hey, marriage is for life. it didn't even occur to me that we might get divorced until about 4 days before The Conversation. i was genuinely ready to stick it out with this guy who refused to really See me, because i thought that was what i had to do.
then came The Conversation. i'd been invited to be a bridesmaid in his sister's wedding and had agreed to wear a dress, because hey, it's her wedding. if she wants bridesmaids in dresses, sure. (i was still very much reeling from my own wedding, but that's another story i'll tell if anyone's curious.)
anyway. dresses. i go to a fitting. i stand there numbly while wearing the most godawful dress i'd ever seen, feeling like Garbage. i go home. i step in the door, i burst into tears. sobbing, on the couch, i tell him that something's not right. i can't wear a dress to this wedding.
i think that was when he realized i wasn't going to grow out of being nonbinary. we had a really long, brutal conversation, mostly about how i was probably going to want top surgery one day, that ultimately resulted in him ending our marriage.
"i can't make you be somebody you're not," he told me. "but you can't make me attracted to you."
that's right, folks! the thing that ended my marriage was my tits.
we'd sat through and endured many conversations in which i shared my feelings about the church, about christianity, about the patriarchy, about gender as a whole, but in the end, the thing he could not get his head around was a version of me that didn't have a chest.
i won't lie, that shit stung. the constant rejection of my gender expression had sort of eroded any romantic love i felt for him at that point, but he'd been my closest confidant for so long by that point that i really had to work through some shit about worthiness in the weeks after. it was just surreal to me that me With tits was good and worth being married to, but a hypothetical version of me with a flat chest was so repulsive that he'd rather end a marriage than endure it.
and like, i get being a boob guy (trust me), but damn.
p.s. some really interesting notes: he waited to have this conversation with me until literally the week after i received the first 5-figure portion of my book deal advance, which meant when we were settling affairs, it counted as "marital income" and he got half, and then he hired lawyers behind my back after we said we wouldn't do that.
in hindsight? maybe it was never about the tits at all. ;)
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Text
Polar Opposites (Christian Pulisic x Reader) - Part 4
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WC: 2.0K
Warnings: curse words, drinking/alcohol
A/N: We're so close to the end! 🥹 Before reading this part, make sure you have read the previous parts 😉 I hope you all enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts thru reply/reblog/ask 🫶 If you wanna be added to the taglist let me know 😊 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!
| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |
---
Bachelorette party was tonight. Claire didn’t want to have bridesmaids because she thought having you as Person of Honor was enough. You – as someone who loves planning basically everything ­– invited some friends of Claire and arranged the whole thing by yourself. She didn’t request for anything but one – no strippers, which you gladly accepted because you didn’t really think that would be a good idea and knowing Claire, she wouldn’t feel comfortable.
At the time, you and Christian were still texting each other. But you were also still uncertain about your feelings for him, so you kept pulling back and forth. Some days, you would be all friendly, but the other days you would act a little cold towards him – maybe too cold. You even confused yourself because you had never been in this kind of situation before. The thing was, even when you hadn’t replied to his text for 2 days, he kept on sending you new messages every day.
It was Friday evening when the party started. One week prior, you had made a table reservation at yours and Claire’s favorite nightclub – you were looking forward for the party. You just want to distract yourself from the biggest inner struggle at the moment – which was figuring out what you really feel about certain someone.
“Yes!” You talked to yourself as you walked in to the club, unaware your voice were quite loud. “I can’t wait to finally ‘drink to forget’!” 
Claire raised her eyebrows. “Drink to forget? To forget what?”
“Uh, what?” You looked at Claire all confused, before you realized she heard what you said before. “Oh nothing. Forget nothing. Just forget I even said anything.”
You felt your phone vibrated on your pocket, so you took it out and saw 3 new messages from Christian. 
Is the bachelorette party tonight?
Have fun! 🙌🏻
Don’t get too drunk 😂 Rehearsal dinner is tomorrow
You texted him back before putting your phone away.
can’t promise anything lol thanks
The time you all got to the table, plenty of drinks – mostly cocktails and shots – had been served. You immediately grabbed 2 shot glasses and ready to start off the party with a toast.
“Everyone, let’s raise our glasses,” you started your toast, “to send off our beloved bride-to-be, Claire to marriage life!”
“Let’s drink and have some fun!”
---
That night, you had a lot of drink – too much, you were pretty boozy.
It was already 12 AM, but since you were still very drunk you didn’t notice time. You were laying on the sofa, then got on your phone, and drunk dialed a number – you weren’t aware it was Christian’s number. He didn’t pick up because he was asleep, so your call went straight to voicemail.
“This is Christian Pulisic, leave your message.”
“Heyyyyyy whaa- Christian? I d’no why I call yeeee” you slurred your speech, you were genuinely surprised to hear his voice.
“I uh, I guess I uhh...” you took a shot of vodka before continuing, “ahhh, I just wanna say, I fuckin hate yer guts!”
“But Chrissss...” your began to murmured, "I thinkkkk I wike yooouuu...”
 “Ohhh pffftt, I mean wike! No, ughhh,” you groaned, “like. Theeeereee I say itttttt... I la-la-la-like youuuu.”
“Aaaanyway, imma go have more drinks,” you said as you got off to take another shots, “bye there!” You hung up your phone and threw it to the sofa.
---
The next morning, you woke up with a bad hangover – your day started with a throbbing headache and vomits, you reeked of alcohol. 
“Ugh, Claire, my head fucking hurts,” you complained to Claire, “I must’ve drunk too much last night.”
“Yeah you fucking did!” She laughed. “Y/N, you were so out of control last night it was funny to watch!”
“Did I do something stupid? Please, please tell me I didn’t.”
“I mean... Uh...” She tried to recall. “Nothing illegal though, so uh... You’re good I guess?”
You were relieved. “Okay good. Shit, I’m going to sober up for the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
“YOU BETTER BE,” Claire jokingly screamed into your ears, she was amused by how hungover you were and wanted to get a reaction out of you.
“Ah!!! Fuck you Claire!” You covered your ears and squeezed your eyes shut. “That was too loud!”
“I don’t care,” she chuckled. “Go shower and brush your teeth a million times, you smell like a walking bar.”
---
It was finally time for rehearsal dinner. You still were a little hangover, but at least you could function a lot better than this morning. Because you didn’t think you could handle alcohol just yet, you skipped the champagne for the night and had water instead.
As you skimmed the room, you saw Christian was coming over. You tried to act cool even though your heart was beating really fast.
“So...” He started the conversation the moment he stood next to you, “how was bachelorette party, Y/N? Bet you had too much fun.”
“It was fine.” You answered coldly.
“You know, I got a voicemail from someone...”
You gave him a side eye. You thought whatever he was about to say wasn’t that important, so you tried to not give him any attention.
“It’s not just a voicemail, it’s actually umm... A confession?” He smirked.
You started to feel curious. “What do you mean?”
“Someone told me they, uh, how do they say it... Oh, wike! Wait, no. Umm, lalalalike me?”
Your eyes widened. It sounded familiar, but you really couldn’t recall why.
“Wait, did I call you last night???” You nervously asked.
He jokingly asked you back. “I don’t know, did you?”
“Come on Christian,” You whined. “Be serious! I really have no memories about any fucking things after what seemed like to be my one hundredth drink last night.”
“Let me refresh your memory.” He took his phone out of his pocket, then gave you a listen to a voicemail you didn’t remember sending. You covered your face and grumbled – you couldn’t even look at him. At the moment, you felt you were ready to grab a fork and stabbed yourself with it.
“Fuck Christian I-” you stuttered out of embarrassment, “I... I am so... so so so sorry I left you that message. I- I really don’t remember even calling you!”
“That’s okay. I get it, you were drunk. Well, at least now we know alcohol brings honesty out of you.” 
“Oh God...” You whimpered.
“Look, Y/N, sorry that you hate my guts, but-”
“Can you just um, erase that?” You asked him anxiously. “And uh, forget it ever happened?” 
He frowned. “Why?”
“Uh... I didn’t even know what I was talking about. I mean... I was clearly under the influence.” 
“Wait,” he said quietly, “don’t you want to know what I think?”
 “I... I don’t...” You stuttered. “I don’t kn-”
“Y/N, Christian!” You two heard Claire called your names and waved. “It’s time!”
You nodded at her, then went back to Christian. “Let’s go there, come on.”
“Yeah sure.” He coldly walked away, he seemed really hurt.
For the entire rehearsal dinner, Christian didn’t talk to you. He glanced at you once in a while, but that was it. You were just really ashamed because of that drunk voicemail you sent him – how you basically told him how you felt about him. 
---
At the end of the dinner, you finally had the courage to talk to him.
“Christian,” you tapped his shoulder, “can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure,” he said as he pulled a chair next to him, he didn’t even look at you.
You sat there, and there was a moment of silence.
He finally broke the silence, “what is it?”
“Uh, listen...” You took a deep breath. “The truth is, I’m still unsure of how I feel about you.”
“I have never had feelings to anyone like you. You can be insufferable most of the times, and the thought of that bothers me...”
“Well that’s flattering.” He blurted.
“You know what I mean!” You shouted.
“Anyway, it’s just... What if this feeling is temporary? What if our two, contrasting personalities could never work? I don’t want to get hurt, Christian. I just can’t.” You whimpered.
He listened, but he didn’t say a word.
“I am embarrassed that I sent you that message. That’s why I asked you to delete and forget. And I have yet to figure out how I really feel about you.” You explained.
He pressed his lips together and nodded, but still no words came out.
“Well... Don’t you have something to say to me?” You asked.
“Oh, me?” He pointed at himself. “Tsk. I don’t know.”
“Uh, okay...” You said nervously. “I guess I’ll le-”
As you were ready to leave, you heard him softly confessed, “I like you too.”
You froze for a minute. It felt like your heart stopped beating and the time just stopped ticking – you couldn’t help to let out a smile. “Go on.”
“I was so glad you sent me that voicemail, Y/N. It was the perfect start of my day. I don’t care whether you were drunk or not, at least I now know how you feel about me.” He admitted, his voice sounded shaky. “So when you asked me to pretend it never happened, it hurt me.”
“Chris...”
“I’m not done.” He stopped you.
“Not only that, I don’t know if you notice but you’ve been so hot and cold with me for months! It’s exhausting.” He admitted.
In response, you mouthed “I’m sorry.”
“Look, I’m not going to ask you to make up your mind now, but just so you know... I’m into you. Like, really into you. No matter how much I ‘despise’ you.” He said, giving you a little smile at the end.
You chuckled. “Thank you, Christian.”
You smiled and gazed into each other’s eyes in silent until you heard Claire called your name.
“Y/N! Let’s go home!”
“Oh, I have to go,” you said as you got off your seat. “The bride needs me.”
“See you tomorrow, Best Man.”
“Can’t wait, Person of Honor.”
---
You had spent the last two nights at Claire’s, while Nick stayed over at Christian’s. You hadn’t stopped smiling since the conversation you had with Christian and Claire noticed that.
“Y/N... What’s going on with you?” She asked.
“What?”
“You seem way too happy and it’s freaking me out!” She laughed. “Does Christian have something to do with this?”
You jokingly acted surprised, even though she was right. “How bold of you to assume that!”
“Well does he though? Y/N, I’m not going to sleep before you tell me everything!” Claire demanded.
“No! Are you kidding? Tomorrow’s your wedding... You need enough sleep!”
“You know Y/N, it is the rule to always say ‘yes’ to the bride.”
You playfully gasped. “Are you seriously using your bride card right now?”
“Indeed I am,” she said proudly, “now talk!”
“Ugh fine,” you hesitantly gave up, “I’ll tell you. Bear with me.”
You told her about the drunk voicemail and how it ended up with Christian confessing his feeling to you. Claire – who basically has been rooting for you and him – was very delighted to hear the story.
But she was a little concerned about one thing. “So, Y/N, do you... Really like him?”
“I think I am... But I’m not sure.”
“You have to figure it out very soon, Y/N. He’s not going to wait forever, you know? Don’t toy with his feelings.” She advised.
“I’m aware, but you know it’s not that easy, right? I have no idea why I become this indecisive.” Your voice started breaking. “This shit... It has been messing with my head for fucking months now...” 
“We’re just... How do you say it?” You tried to think of the term. “Uh, polar opposite?”
“I understand,” she sympathized, “but maybe you’re thinking too much into it.”
You nodded, you were relieved you had the talk with Claire.
“If you want to, Y/N,” she continued, “you can work those differences out.”
You went silent for a while, thinking about what Claire just said to you. Maybe she’s right? Can we work it out?
---
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem @cinderellawithashoe @alwaysclassyeagle @ala2ilas-s
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seths-rogens · 6 months
Text
If I Was Any Closer, I Could Be Lost | E | 8.2k
"I want you to be my best man." Steve is watching him with a bright smile, and all of a sudden Eddie feels like the worst person in the world.
He should say no. He's going to say no. 
"Of course I'll be your best man, Stevie. I'd be honoured."
Shit. Fuck. No. He didn't mean to do that.
Eddie is utterly, completely, absolutely, fucking screwed. 
Or, Steve is getting married to someone else, and Eddie, desperately in love, watches it happen.
taglist: @judasofsuburbia @gothbat99 @flowercrowngods @cheatghost @fastcardotmp3 @simplebtromance @gonzofromspace @i-less-than-three-you @potato-of-the-lord
—————
fic under the cut, or read on ao3!
"I want you to be my best man." Steve is watching him with a bright smile, and all of a sudden Eddie feels like the worst person in the world.
He has to say no. Needs to. There's no way he's surviving a front row seat to Steve Harrington's goddamn wedding.
"What?"
They're at their favourite bar, where Steve and Robin used to work back when they first moved to Indy, sitting in their usual booth in the back corner, right by the bust up jukebox. There's some sports game playing on the TV behind the bar, not basketball or baseball because Steve hasn't glanced over once. Or maybe he's already seen it.
There's a hole in the wall next to the dartboard after a drunken Nancy misjudged her own strength in throwing her dart. There's a drink on the menu named after Argyle (because he sold the owner some of his fancy Californian weed). S & E is carved into the underside of the table they're sitting at - the product of one of Steve's solo closing shifts, a visit from Eddie, and a whole bottle of tequila.
There's a lot of memories in this place. Fitting they would have this conversation here.
"Be my best man, dude." Steve's still smiling. God, he's so pretty.
"What about Robin?"
"Stacey already offered her a place as a bridesmaid. You know how well they get along." Steve's smile turns fond at the thought of his fiancee and best friend's blossoming friendship.
Eddie wonders how the hell he ended up in this situation. How he became close enough with 'King Steve' that he's invited to his wedding, let alone being offered one of the most important roles in it.
They'd grown close after Spring '86. Of course they had, facing down a grotesque, dickless fuckwad who had nothing better to do than further traumatise and kill several teenagers by way of crumpling them up like an empty coke can worked as a real bonding moment.
Plus there was the shared stint in the hospital. Playing chew toy to several hundred alternate dimension demon bats will take a lot out of you, so it seemed. Not to mention the road rash on Steve's back and how all his wounds very nearly ended up infected.
Eddie still thinks it's a miracle he managed to keep going and reassure everyone he was fine. But that's only because he knows he himself acted like a little bitch about it.
So they became friends. First, it was sharing a hospital room, then it was Steve summoning the mighty power of his absent parents to get him off scot-free for an unjust murder accusation.
Then it was late night phone calls when neither of them could sleep, whispering their fears and nightmares down the phoneline to one of the few people who could really, truly understand. Then it became late night drives to the quarry, then a shared joint on Eddie's front porch, until eventually, they were sharing a bed.
Eddie couldn't help falling in love along the way. He really tried not to. But Steve was... well, he was Steve. Selfless and bitchy and just plain good.
Eddie was doomed from the start.
But Eddie never said anything. Couldn't ruin one of his closest friendships with feelings. It's been seven years since Vecna. Steve turned 26 barely two months ago and now he's getting married to a girl he's been dating a little under a year.
And the worst part, Eddie thinks, is that they're perfect for one another.
If any girl would be the one to finally make Steve Harrington an honest man, it would be Stacey Baker. She was tall and slim, with curves in - Eddie assumes - all the right places. Her hair was so long it almost brushed her waist and a shade of blonde most people would only achieve with an $80 salon appointment. She had cheekbones so sharp they could cut, but her face was softened by the beginnings of smile lines around her mouth and the corners of her eyes.
Eddie was used to seeing her in comfy sweaters and t-shirts stolen from Steve's dresser, but on the few occasions he'd seen her dressed up, she'd been stunning.
He can't imagine how she'll look in a wedding dress.
Together Steve and Stacey looked like the poster couple for 'American family values' and Eddie hated it. But he couldn't hate her.
He had wanted to, really wanted to, when Steve first mentioned her, but it only took one meeting to understand why he liked her so much.
Stacey was a breath of fresh air after a storm. Always smiling, always ready to help.
She kept track of Steve's medication and reminded him to put in his hearing aids. She loved him in spite of the scars she would never know the stories behind. She didn't mind the almost codependent friendships Steve had with Robin and Eddie. Didn't mind when he'd get out of bed at 3 am to go make sure Dustin was asleep at home.
And Steve... Well, everyone knows Steve falls fast.
"She's even letting her wear a suit."
Eddie blinks back to himself. "Sorry?"
"Stacey. She's letting Robin wear a suit." Steve shrugs. "Says as long as it fits the colour scheme then it's fine."
"That's great." Eddie picks up his beer, takes a long pull.
"So, will you do it?"
He should say no. He's going to say no.
"Of course I'll be your best man, Stevie. I'd be honoured."
Shit. Fuck. No. He didn't mean to do that.
Eddie is utterly, completely, absolutely, fucking screwed.
Four and a half months later sees Eddie in a hotel room he never would've shelled out for, clenching his fists instead of reaching for the overpriced mini bar and watching Steve attempt to tie his tie in the mirror.
It's lilac, and the suit is a heather grey. Just like Eddie's.
It makes him look even prettier.
Steve fumbles with the tie. "Do you need a hand with that?" Eddie asks, holding back a smirk.
Steve groans. "Yeah. I thought I had it."
Eddie pushes himself up as Steve turns to face him. He takes the ends of the tie in gentle hands and begins to wrap it around itself.
"You nervous?" Eddie focuses on what his hands are doing, instead of doing something stupid like gazing deeply into Steve's stupid gorgeous eyes.
"A little, sure." Steve shrugs, holding his head high so Eddie has the space to work.
“I mean, fuck, man.” Eddie huffs a laugh. “You’re 26 and you’re getting married. That’s insane.”
“Is it? My mom was married to my dad at 18.”
Eddie nods, taking his time because he’s certain this is the last time he’ll ever be close to Steve, to be allowed to linger. “Sure, but with everything we’ve been through. A wedding seems weirdly abnormal. Especially considering our track record.”
Steve frowns. “Abnormal?”
“Yeah. You know, unusual, unorthodox, out of the ordinary.” He tucks the tie through itself.
Steve shakes his head. “No, I know what it means, man, just… are you not, like, happy for me?”
Eddie straightens the tie out, rests his palms just beneath Steve’s shoulders on his chest. “I’m happy for you.”
“You don’t seem like it.” Steve ducks his head. “You’ve been in a bad mood all day and I can’t help but think it’s my fault somehow. Have I done something?”
Eddie’s eyes are wide with the fear that he’s been figured out. “No!” He says, perhaps too quickly. “No, it’s not you. I’ve just got shit going on, y’know? It’s been on my mind.”
Steve’s face doesn’t brighten any.
“Look, how about I promise that for the rest of the day, I’ll be the most cheerful, upbeat version of myself you’ve ever seen.”
A small smile graces Steve’s lips. “And no ranting about metal music and scaring Stacey’s relatives?”
Eddie groans. “Why not?”
Steve gives him a look.
“Ugh, fine. I promise.”
Steve smiles and Eddie’s heart soars. “Good.”
Tie lying flat against his chest, Steve turns back to the mirror, straightening out his suit jacket and fiddling with the buttons. “Do I look okay?”
Eddie looks over his shoulder at the two of them standing together in the mirror. His heart clenches in his chest. “Just as pretty as usual, Harrington. You might even show up the bride.”
Steve chuckles softly, ducking his head with a pretty blush. Eddie wants to feel it under his palm. "Oh, I doubt that."
"Don't sell yourself short. You clean up nice." He bit back what he really wanted to say. You look more beautiful every time I see you. God, you look good in a suit but I want nothing more than to tear it off you. Run away with me.
Steve gave Eddie a once over, from the too polished shine of his shoes to the way he'd pinned his hair up. "You too, Munson."
Steve winks and stalks out of the room. Eddie barely represses a shiver.
It seems like no time at all before they're standing at the altar. Steve holds himself with excited tension. Eddie stands at his side, hands clenched into fists behind his back, Dustin and Lucas beside him.
The bridal march plays over the church's old organ and the bridesmaids start their walk down the aisle. Max and El - bridesmaids at Steve's request - walk together arm in arm. Their lilac dresses are similar but different all the same, fitting to their personalities. Max's cane is wrapped in purple ribbon.
Robin follows, her suit the same shade as the dresses, but tailored to perfection. Her shirt is grey silk and her bow tie matches Steve's own tie.
She squeals as she reaches the altar, pulling Steve into a crushing hug. He buries his head in her neck with a laugh. She meets Eddie's eye over Steve's shoulder and gives him a capital L Look. Eddie ducks away from her gaze.
A few of Stacey's own friends follow after, taking their places at the altar, and then it's time.
Stacey looks stunning in a simple white gown. It drapes almost casually over her shoulders and tapers in at her waist. Her blonde hair sits atop her head in a complicated updo. Steve smiles fondly as she begins to walk towards him.
Everyone watches her. Eddie watches Steve.
The service passes in a haze, the way Steve fumbles reading his vows from a piece of paper gaining 'awws' from the congregation. More than once Eddie feels Robin's eyes on him. He ignores her.
The priest asks if anyone objects to their union. Eddie bites his tongue so hard it bleeds.
Too soon, they're saying "I do" and Eddie holds back tears.
Having to pose in wedding photos is a new kind of torture. To stand so close to Steve and know that he'll never be Eddie's. That he'll probably move far away, start a family, and start vacationing at all the country's questionable tourist traps - after all Steve always wanted six kids and a Winnebago. And Eddie won't be a part of any of it, just a distant memory that Steve will desperately try to forget. A stranger in his goddamn wedding photos.
He'll look at them 50 years down the line and not be able to remember Eddie's name.
It hits him hard at the reception. They're in a nice hotel, an old, rustic building on the outskirts of Muncie, the room they're in is decorated with twinkling fairy lights and flowery centrepieces.
Eddie sits pride of place next to Steve at the head table, Stacey's dad having just finished his speech. Steve is blushing, holding Stacey's hand in a tight grip as she dabs her tears away with a handkerchief.
It's Eddie's turn next. He'd rather go for round two with the demobats.
Steve pats his shoulder as he stands up, accepting the microphone from the hostess.
"What can I say about Steve Harrington?" Eddie plasters on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "This man saved my life, quite literally, on more than one occasion. He held me together, carried me on his back and gave me the blood from his body all out of a kindness I wasn't sure I deserved."
Eddie pauses, taking a breath. "Most best man speeches I've heard fall more on the funny side, and I'm sure that's what Stevie here was expecting." He smiles, resting his hand on Steve's shoulder.
He risks a glance, Steve is gazing up at him with fond eyes and a wide smile. Eddie looks away quickly, staring out at the wedding guests.
"But, though it may be out of character, I felt that a little sincerity would go a long way." He takes a breath. "The man sitting right next to me is the only reason I'm standing here today. We've been through hell together, and even have the matching scars to prove it." He hears Steve huff a laugh. "I want nothing but the best for him, and that comes in the form of Stacey, his absolutely stunning bride." He smiles over at Stacey, she flushes, a shy smile gracing her face.
"I've never seen someone understand Steve so well that they almost have Robin beat," Robin whoops from her seat a little ways away, Steve laughs. "I mean, I thought I came close, but it's nothing compared to Stacey. She loves him fully and unconditionally, and I hope they have that for the rest of their lives. Hell, I hope I have a relationship even half as loving as theirs one day."
Eddie raises his glass. "To the bride and groom."
The rest of the wedding guests chorus his words back at him, sipping from their flutes of champagne in toast. Eddie retakes his seat and not a moment later, Steve's hand finds his knee. He squeezes and leans in close to Eddie's ear. "Thanks, man. That was beautiful."
"It was nothing." He says. It was everything, he thinks.
Steve has already been roped into a conversation with Stacey's dad, and Robin is tugging Stacey over to the buffet. Dustin, Mike and Will are comparing outfits while El and Erica gossip across the table. Lucas and Max are leaned in close, heads pressed together and hands tangled on the table between them.
Here, surrounded by friends, by family, Eddie feels utterly and completely alone.
The festivities ramp up after that. The happy couple has their first dance to ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ - cheesy pick, Eddie thinks, but he can’t deny that it springs a year to his eye.
It fades into ‘Dancing in the Dark’ and Steve gains a little bounce in his step. He tugs Dustin and Robin up and spins them both round as Stacey’s little niece runs up to her with open arms. She bounces her against her hip to the music.
Everyone is smiling, warm bright grins that take up their whole faces and light up sparks in their eyes. Eddie thinks he should probably be smiling too, but he can’t help the coiling out of anxiety that spits in his stomach.
He lets Erica drag him up for a dance or too, and they swing each other round to The Human League and The B-52’s, but he bows out as Steve grabs Stacey’s hands to spin her around to Wham!’s Everything She Wants, mouthing the lyrics with a grin on his face.
Eddie grabs two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and seats himself at a nearby table. He downs the first and holds the second in his hand, swirling the sparkling liquid in slow circles and staring into the little whirlpool it creates. This isn’t his first drink, it’s maybe his fourth or fifth, and he can feel it starting to hit him now, a fuzzy warmth settling over his eyes and in his head. He gives into it like he usually wouldn’t. Figures why not if he’s watching the love of his life dance with the love of his own.
He sits there, watching these people, this family, dance and have fun without him and thinks, they would be okay without me. They don’t need me.
A few songs pass but Eddie doesn’t realise, just keeps staring into the glass. There’s only a drop or two left now, when did that happen?
He’s startled back to the present when a hand enters his field of vision.
A couple scars on the knuckles, one finger slightly too crooked, a wedding band. Eddie looks up and finds Steve smiling softly.
Eddie smiles back, holds back wine drunk tears and grabs his hand. Steve tugs him up and onto the dance floor. Eddie represses a shudder when Steve guides his hands to his waist, and wraps his own around Eddie’s shoulders.
Eddie’s eyes are wide as he stares up at Steve in shock. What’s Stacey going to say about this? He risks a glance but Stacey is preoccupied slow dancing with Robin. They’re giggling about something. Eddie flexes his fingers, clenches his hands in the fabric of Steve’s rented suit jacket.
He realises then what song is playing. Tiffany croons about a love that could’ve been over the shitty hotel sound system.
Steve sways him gently, hands fiddling with the back of Eddie’s shirt collar. They’re pressed almost chest to chest, only a sliver of space between them. It might as well be nothing.
“Every time I get my hopes up
They always seem to fall
Still, could've been is better than
What could never be at all”
Eddie has never been one to relate to the lyrics of pop songs, but all of a sudden it hits much too close to home. He feels his heart in his throat, his stomach in his feet. His breath comes short and his eyes prick with moisture.
He pushes Steve back, just on this side of too firm. Steve stumbles a little but Eddie makes sure he doesn’t fall. “I’m sorry.”
And with that, Eddie leaves a groom that isn’t his standing alone in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
He bursts out into the hallway, hair falling out of its neat updo as he whips his head from side to side, trying to figure out where to go. He picks a direction and sticks with it, striding down a random hallway until he finds an unlocked door.
He pushes it open and finds a room much like the one Steve’s reception is being held in. The lights are low here and the tables lay bare of their white silken covers. Eddie walks over to one of the tall windows and cracks it open. He pulls a crumpled pack of Marlboros out of the pocket of his slacks, and tips one into his hands.
He slips his zippo out of the front pocket of his suit jacket, and runs his thumb over the engraving. The outline of a warlock with ‘86 inscribed in the middle - a gift from Wayne after he finally graduated, third times the charm after all.
He flips it open and tries to light up. It doesn’t spark for a moment, despite how hard he tries. He thinks back to that horror flick he and Steve caught a month or two ago - hadn’t this happened to the protagonist.
Eddie snorts, his life is more a tragedy now, even if it was briefly a horror film.
The flame finally catches and he lights his cigarette, taking a deep draw and holding it until the back of his throat aches. He leans out of the window and watches the smoke curl into the dark of the night.
Behind him the door to the room clicks shut, and smart shoes click across the polished floor. They come to a stop a few feet away, and Eddie feels the hair on the back of his next stand up.
“What was that about?” Steve asks. Eddie lets out a shuddering breath, takes another drag of his cigarette.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t… don’t bullshit me, man.” Steve seems to grit his teeth, to clench out the words as if they’re hard to chew on.
Eddie sighs and stubs out his cigarette on the stone windowsill. He turns around, leaning back and starting down at the floor. “What do you want me to say, Steve?” He glances up, meets Steve’s eye. “I’m not exactly having the best time in there.”
“But we were all having fun together. As a family. You’re part of that, you know you’re part of that so I… I don’t see what the problem is? Have I done something? Is it me?” Steve rambles out, voice quivering almost imperceptibly. He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the way it was perfectly styled.
Eddie ducks his head. Stays silent.
Steve swallows and nods his head with a clenched jaw. “Right. Okay.” He takes a step closer. “Can I fix it?” He whispers, eyes wide and wet.
Eddie sighs, looks anywhere except into Steve's eyes because he knows then he’ll break. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Steve asks, incredulity lacing his tone. “Come on, man. If you tell me what it is, maybe we can work out a solution together.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“You can’t…” Steve trails off. He sounds sad, and Eddie hates that it’s his doing, but he can’t handle it anymore. Can’t watch the man he loves dance with a beautiful woman who he so desperately wishes he could hate. Can't sit around and watch them build a life together when he knows he’ll never have that, not when Steve is spoken for. “When have you ever not been able to tell me something?”
Eddie bites his tongue.
“Fuck, Eddie. I don’t… I don’t know what to do!” Steve is tugging on the roots of his hair again. Eddie wonders if, were it his hands doing the pulling, Steve would moan under his touch. But then again, it’s probably the wrong time to entertain such fantasies. “You’re one of my best friends, man, and I can’t… I can’t handle you being upset with me! I mean, you’ve been weird all day! I thought maybe the party would help raise your spirits a little and yeah, okay, I was wrong, but I can’t fix this if you don’t let me. Like shit, all I did was ask you to dance and you…”
Steve pauses as Eddie looks up, watching his expression morph from one of panic and frenetic energy to a curious look of realisation.
“I asked you to dance.” Eddie nods.
Steve swallows, he’s looking away now, putting the pieces together. His hands are resting on his hips, that signature ‘Mom’ pose the kids love to make fun of so much. “You didn’t bring a date.”
“I didn’t.” Eddie finally speaks up. He knows where this is going. Isn’t ready. Is.
“Why not?” Steve sounds a little choked, like maybe he’s nervous to find out the answer.
Eddie squeezes his hands into fists and releases them. Takes a breath and lets the air leave him shaking. “Because the person I want is already here.”
Steve crumples a little then, a marionette with its strings cut. He smiles, though it seems forced, almost painful. “I’m..?”
Eddie nods, resigned. “Yeah.”
“Fuck.” Steve mutters under his breath before stalking towards Eddie, fast and determined, wrapping a hand around his tie and tugging him into a firm, crushing kiss.
Eddie feels himself freeze, holding his hands up as if he’s going to protect himself.
Steve’s lips are warm and soft beneath his own, they taste like cherries - the balm Eddie knows he’s so fond of, that makes his mouth look so enticing. One of his hands rests on Eddie’s cheek, large fingers spread wide from his jaw all the way to his ear. The other has flattened itself away from Eddie’s tie, now resting above the frantic thud thud thud of his heart.
Steve pulls away with his eyes closed and lips still puckered. He frowns when he comes back to himself.
“I…” He swallows. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—“
Eddie steels himself. Grabs the lapels of Steve’s suit jacket and yanks him back in, swallowing Steve’s surprised squeak with his lips. It melts into a moan and Eddie feels just a little proud of himself.
They pull back again, eyes locked and dark, afraid to break this bubble they’ve created around themselves. Separating them from the party, from the world.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” Steve asks, voice wrecked and quiet. Eddie doesn’t know if the question is for him, or if Steve’s just asking to ask. But he doesn’t have the time to wonder before they’re kissing again.
Eddie doesn’t know who moved first, but their tongues are pressed together and their hands are grappling at jackets. Steve is… vocal. All breathy whimpers and rough groans. It’s music to Eddie’s ears.
He runs his hands through that stupid fucking hair, softer than it probably was in high school, free of the hairspray and gel that kept it big. Steve’s grown since then. He still primps and preens with the best of them, but he isn’t so reliant on Farrah Fawcett now. Steve’s hands play with the hair at the back of Eddie’s neck, tangling and carding through the strands. He gives a gentle tug and Eddie can’t help but gasp.
He feels Steve smirk into the kiss as his hands drift further down, to his shoulders and then his chest. Steve loosens Eddie’s tie and presses a kiss to the base of Eddie’s throat as he undoes the first button of his shirt.
“Steve.” Eddie whispers, voice soft and pained.
Steve pulls back, looks at him through his eyelashes, reverent and dark. “Let me do this for you.” His voice comes out soft. He undoes a few more buttons, staring deep into Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie can’t look away. His shirt is down to his navel now. He nods his head. “Okay.”
Steve smiles, a small, secret thing, and drops carefully to his knees, keeping his gaze locked with Eddie’s. He pulls Eddie’s shirt from his dress slacks, pressing a sweet kiss to the skin beneath his belly button. He rests a hand on Eddie’s belt - he had retired the handcuffs for the night, and some part of him deeply regrets it. “Can I?”
Eddie’s glad Steve had the forethought to wear his contacts. He thinks he’d die if Steve was looking up at him through gold wire frames.
He nods, and Steve makes quick work of his belt buckle. He slowly pulls the pants zipper down, before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cock where it sits, more than half hard, in his briefs.
Eddie inhales sharply, the sensation dull but still ever present. He glances down, sees Steve on his knees before him, has to look away.
Steve sucks at the wet spot forming on Eddie's boxers and Eddie bites back a moan. Steve pulls away, staring up at him, but keeps one hand on him, rubbing slowly through the fabric. "I wanna hear you."
Eddie's hands clench and unclench in the air by his sides, unsure where to put them, what Steve's comfortable with. But that question is answered for him when a gentle hand takes his, presses a kiss to each individual knuckle, and guides his to the top of Steve's head, threading his fingers through his hair. "You don't have to be so gentle with me. I like it a little rough." Steve says, voice light and teasing.
And all of a sudden, Eddie's mind is flooded with the imagery of that statement. Steve face down on a bed, tears streaking his cheeks. Steve's strong hands clenching in white bed sheets. Purple bruises littering his collarbones, his chest, his thighs.
God, those thighs. He imagines them wrapped around his waist, over his shoulders, either side of his head.
He imagines Steve, sweat slicked and quivering beneath him. Writhing and moaning and begging. Imagines a fierce red blush spreading from his cheeks down his neck to his chest as Eddie whispers sweet nothings and dirty talk in his ear. Imagines him wrapped in soft, tight rope, a dark crimson or black to contrast the tan of his skin. Imagines his hands tied to the headboard.
His mind is full to the brim of pictures and possibilities, a million ways he could bring the man before him to ruin.
Eddie clenches his hand in Steve's hair, tugging sharply at the strands. He watches Steve's eyes flutter closed as he gasps. Steve smirks. "That's more like it."
"Shouldn't you be putting that mouth to better use?" Steve's smug look drops away, that pretty red blush Eddie had fantasised about replacing it. Eddie uses his grip on Steve's hair to pull him closer to his crotch.
Steve wets his lips, reaches up and tugs Eddie's briefs down to free his cock. It bounces up, slapping against his stomach and smearing pre against his skin.
Steve wraps a warm hand around it, pumps it up and down. He leans in, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss to the base and gazing up at Eddie through his eyelashes. He licks a stripe up the underside from base to tip with the flat of his tongue, before suckling on the head.
Eddie loosens his grip, cards his fingers through the soft strands. He smirks. "That's more like it." He says with a mean, teasing lilt. Steve's eyes flutter, rolling back for a moment until Eddie can only see the whites. He tugs again, gentle this time. "C'mon, baby. You know what I want."
He dons that dominant persona like a second skin. He can’t let himself think about how fucking wrong this is, how Steve’s goddamn wife is only a a few rooms away. He knows he’s fucked everything up irreparably, but what the hell? He’s already started, he might as well follow through.
Steve nods, movements stilted under Eddie's grasp. He wraps his lips around the head of his cock, flicking the slit with the tip of his tongue. He bobs his head a little, sucks and laves his tongue over Eddie's skin until the room is filled with nothing save his wet noises and Eddie's own heavy breathing. He moans, his eyes closed, sending vibrations down the length of his shaft.
Eddie bites back a groan, watching Steve’s lips stretched wide and shiny around his cock. When Steve blinks his eyes open, gazing up at Eddie, they’re glossy and wide - a goddamn dream come true.
Steve hollows his cheeks, swirls his tongue around the head of Eddie’s cock before swallowing him down to the hilt and engulfing him in a wet heat.
“Fuck, baby.” Eddie moans, clenching his hand in Steve’s hair to hold him there. He wonders where Steve learned to do this, who’s cock he sucked to get this good. Part of him is jealous it wasn’t him. He wants to ask him the story, knows he never will. “Made for this, weren’t you, Stevie?” Steve whimpers, it’s muffled with his mouth full. “You look so pretty on your knees.”
Steve’s eyes flutter as he tries desperately to keep his gag reflex in check. Eddie pulls him off by his hair, letting his panting breaths echo in the quiet of the room as he tries to catch his breath.
He takes in the mess of the man on his knees before him. Steve’s eyes are watering so much they’re glassy, his lips are swollen and red. Eddie thinks he could cum just from the sight of him.
“Harder?” Steve’s voice is hoarse already, his lips slick and slightly swollen.
Eddie raises a brow. “You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it.” Steve leans in close, pulling against Eddie’s grip. He slowly jerks Eddie’s cock in one hand as he presses languid kisses along the length. He presses his free hand against the sizable tent in his slacks. “Take what you want. I’m not made of glass.”
Eddie kicks at the hand he’s grinding against to move it out of the way, takes a step forward and rests his shoe between Steve’s legs, pushed right up against the bulge in his trousers. Steve inhales sharply, staring up at Eddie, dark eyes wide with shock. He shifts, bears his weight down and gives an experimental roll of his hips. A shudder wracks his frame.
“Good?” Eddie smirks. Steve just nods, hips juddering. “Tap my leg if you want me to stop, yeah?” He nods again. “Words, Stevie.”
“Yeah.”
“Better. Now open up.” Steve’s mouth falls open, his tongue lolling out, pink and wet. Eddie bites back a groan at the sight and grips his cock at the base. He rests it on Steve’s tongue for no more than a moment, before sliding it in all the way. He runs his hand through Steve’s hair, then grips it tight, holding him down. “So beautiful.” He murmurs.
Steve moans, the sensation around his cock causing Eddie’s hips to jerk and hit the back of Steve’s throat. Steve chokes, and Eddie starts to pull out.
He doesn’t make it far before Steve is grabbing his ass to pull him in deeper. “Fuck, Stevie. Guess you weren’t lying, huh?”
He thrusts in again as Steve’s nails dig in hard through Eddie’s slacks. He builds up a rhythm, guiding Steve’s head with a hand in his hair, his cock gliding slick and perfect against Steve’s smooth tongue as Steve sucks and whimpers and swirls his tongue. Steve’s hips jerk frantically where they’re pressed against Eddie’s shoe.
It can’t be comfortable, Eddie thinks, but nonetheless he keeps going.
Moonlight spills through the window and casts Steve in a pale glow. He’s more beautiful than ever, down on his knees like he’s at prayer, while sinning so prettily.
Eddie can feel that sizzling heat start to simmer in the bottom of his stomach, frissions of arousal sending sparks all over his body.
It’s perfect. It’s not enough.
If this is the last time Eddie will ever see Steve, ever have him beneath him, be inside him, then he needs more. Needs to be pressed against the strength of his back, needs to feel the warmth of him seeping through his clothes. He needs the intimacy if anything. Needs Steve to know how wanted he is, how this is more than just a quick meaningless fuck.
They’ve already ruined whatever friendship they had, what more could they lose?
“Fuck.” Eddie mutters. He pulls Steve up by his hair, spins him round until his back presses against Eddie’s chest.
“What… what’re you doing?” Steve asks, voice gravel rough. Eddie reaches around, grapples with Steve’s belt buckle until it comes undone. He pushes his slacks and his briefs down, until they hang around Steve’s knees.
“Taking what I want.” Eddie pulls at Steve’s suit jacket, pressing kisses down his jaw, his neck, behind his ear, as he works it down his arms. He tosses it unceremoniously to the side before pressing a flat palm between Steve’s shoulder blades and pushing until his chest lies against a nearby table. That perfect fucking ass is round and bare and presented to Eddie like a goddamn feast.
He wishes he could get his mouth on it, knows he never will.
He brings his hand down against Steve’s right ass cheek, the crack echoing sharp and loud in the quiet of the room. He slots his hand over the reddening welt, takes a handful and squeezes.
“Oh fuck.” Steve lets out a breathy moan, his breath fogging up the wood as one hand reaches out to grasp the opposite edge of the table.
Eddie rucks Steve’s shirt up, rubbing his hands over the harsh scars that cover his back, healed silver with time but still rough to the touch. He trails his hands down Steve’s back, stopping until his thumbs fit perfectly into his dimples of venus. He leans in, kisses down the knobs of his spine, each vertebrae blessed with a press of his lips, before coming to a stop at his tailbone.
“Eddie…” Steve exhales a whine, cheek pressed to the table under him. “Stop fucking teasing and touch me.”
Eddie chuckles softly, nipping at the expanse of skin beneath him with his teeth, sucking a mark. “Oh, baby, I am touching you.”
Steve growls, a rumbling guttural thing, and pushes his hips back, his bare ass pressing against Eddie’s cock. Eddie barely holds back a moan, his hand clenching around Steve’s hip to hold him still.
“I didn’t say you could move, honey.”
Steve inhales sharply at the pet name. “I need more, Eds. Please.”
Please, he says, as if that doesn’t shake Eddie’s entire world to its core. He’s going to be playing that over and over in his head until he fucking dies.
“Since you asked so pretty.” Eddie takes a half step forward, grinds slowly against Steve’s crack, his cock catching against Steve’s hole. “God, the things I’d do to you if I had some lube and a condom.”
Steve lets out a breathy laugh, shuddering as Eddie’s hips keep moving, continuing that slow, steady grind. “I’d let you.”
Eddie grins, runs his hands up and down Steve’s back before stopping at his hips and squeezing gently. “Yeah? You’d let me fuck you right here?”
“Uh huh.” Steve shifts, presses his forehead to the table and rocks back. Eddie digs his fingers into that soft, supple flesh beneath his palms and imagines carving a hole in Steve’s chest, making a home there, living within him. They’d never be apart, nothing could ever separate them.
It’s a sort of possessiveness Eddie can never indulge. But God, how he wishes he could.
Eddie pauses for a moment. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s all happening so fast he can barely keep up. He knows he should put a stop to this, walk away before he makes it any worse.
But, well, fuck it, he thinks.
Everything’s already well and truly ruined. Why should he stop now?
“Eddie?” Steve mumbles out against the table, bringing Eddie back to the moment. “Y’okay?”
Eddie’s heart clenches in his chest.
Here is a man laid before him, messy and perfect and everything he has ever dreamed of, and Eddie realises he’s been going about this all wrong.
Some dark, cruel part of him is yelling for him to make this count. To make sure Steve remembers this the next time he lays down with his wife. The next time she undresses him, kisses him, touches him in those intimate places. That part of him says, make it sweet, loving. Make it tender. Make sure he knows it isn’t just sex.
That part is screaming. Ruin him.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m okay.” Eddie leans down. Presses a gentle kiss to the side of Steve’s neck as he rocks against the crevice of Steve’s ass. Trails more kisses over his clothed shoulder, down the scarred knobs of his back.
He runs his hands up Steve’s sides, touches him almost reverently. Like something holy. “You’re so beautiful, Steve.”
Steve gasps out a moan, rocks back like he’s not in control. Eddie bites back a groan, rocks forward.
He feels something swinging against his hip, reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a half empty tube of vaseline. He smirks, squeezes some out onto his fingers and warms it up. Eddie reaches down, drags a slick finger over Steve’s hole and presses gently against it. Steve shudders, choking out a whine.
Eddie spreads a little more vaseline between his cheeks. He rubs up against him again, gliding smoother where skin meets skin. “That feel good, baby?”
Steve nods, free hand clenching into a fist against the table.
“Words, honey.”
“Feels good, Eds. So good.” Steve replies breathily. Eddie chuckles. He builds a rhythm grinding forward as Steve pushes back. It’s quiet for a moment or two, save for the sounds of their breathing and Steve’s punched out little groans.
Eddie presses his clean hand against the centre of Steve’s back, keeping him in place, and reaches round with his slick one, wrapping it around Steve’s cock. He strokes slowly once, twice, three times, running his thumb over the head to collect Steve’s pre and spread it back down.
“Fuck, Eddie.” Steve gasps out, hips jerking in his grip. His movements are juddering, like he can’t decide whether to fuck into Eddie’s fist or back against his cock. His cheek is pressed flat against the table, eyes clenched shut.
Eddie keeps his fist just bordering on too loose, keeps moving his hips. He leans close to Steve’s ear. “I want you to feel good, Stevie. Take what you want.”
Steve takes that as his cue, grinding rapidly back and forth, fingertips grasping for purchase against the smooth wood. He gasps and moans, writhing in place.
Eddie curses, rocking his hips against Steve’s heat. “That’s good, baby, you’re doing so good.”
Steve moans, deep and guttural as his movements become frantic. He reaches down, covers Eddie’s hand with his own, tangles their fingers and tightens Eddie’s grip.
“Yeah, fuck, just like that. M’so close.” Steve whines beneath him, trembling as he picks up the pace. His hips move faster, stuttering and jerking as he nears his end.
It’s almost a surprise to watch Steve come. It’s everything and nothing like Eddie expected. He could’ve fantasised for hours, days, years, but nothing his brain would’ve come up with is comparable to seeing the real thing.
Steve loses himself in it, lets the pleasure wash over him like a tidal wave. His eyes clench shut and his mouth falls open in a long moan as he comes undone. His hips keep pushing into the tight wet of Eddie’s fist until he becomes oversensitive.
Finally, he pulls his hand away, rests it on the table.
Eddie pulls away too, takes his own cock in hand as Steve lies there coming down, breaths coming out fast, and takes the sight of him in. The look of him debauched, ravished. The strain of muscles beneath scarred skin. The pink blush on his cheeks. The bitten red of his lips. It doesn’t take much.
“C’mon, Eds. Wanna feel you come.” But that’s what really does it. A few jerks of his hand and Eddie’s coming, streaking white across silver scars.
He falls forward, drapes himself over Steve in a desperate need for closeness. Doesn’t care about the mess he’s surely making of his shirt.
The room is near quiet. Still. And Eddie feels warm save for the sinking in his stomach.
He kinda wants to stay there forever. Knows he has to leave as quickly as he can.
Minutes pass, neither of them make the effort to move.
Eddie pants, pressing his forehead between Steve's shoulder blades. The room is silent save for their synced panting breaths. He pushes himself up slowly, muscles protesting the movement.
Steve remains in place on the table top, cheek pressed against the wood as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed, dark eyelashes fanning over flushed skin, and his forehead is damp with sweat. One of his hands lies curled but loose against the table, the other grips the farthest edge, white knuckled. His shirt is rucked up to his armpits, showing the scarred expanse of his back. His slacks are round his knees, the perfect curve of his ass bare.
He's marked with Eddie's cum. All the way from his hole to the centre of his back. It stands out, pale against the tan of his skin. Eddie's almost tempted to reach out, drag a finger through it.
He doesn't.
Instead, he pulls the lilac pocket square from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and unfolds it. With gentle hands, he wipes his spend from Steve's back. He balls the soiled cloth up and shoves it deep into his pants pocket. He'll bin it later - even if the thought of keeping it does briefly cross his mind.
Steve hums, grateful, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the table. He flexes the hand that was gripping the edge, trying to get the feeling back.
Eddie turns away, feels like he's seen more than he's rightfully allowed. He tugs his pants up, hands shaking as he clasps his belt. He makes an attempt to tuck in his shirt, but it's creased to shit now, so it doesn't quite lay flat anymore.
He walks back over to the window. Outside, the moon is high and the sky is clear. The ground is dewey, almost sparkling. He thinks it must've rained at some point.
He taps out another cigarette from the packet in his pocket and lights up. Blowing out a plume of smoke, Eddie presses his forehead to the cool glass.
Behind him, he can hear Steve shuffling, tidying himself up. Probably preparing to let Eddie down and run off back to his perfect little wife.
Well fuck that, Eddie's gonna beat him to it.
"We can't do this again." He says, fogging up the glass in front of him as he speaks.
Steve's voice is rough when he replies. "I know."
Eddie knows that tone of voice. He knows it all too well. The one where he says one thing but means another.
He flicks the ash from his cigarette, turns and leans against the wall next to the window. Steve's leaning back against the table they just fucked on, staring down at a scuff on his left shoe.
From this vantage Eddie gets to see the wondrous Steve Harrington in all his post-sex glory. His shirt is all rumpled, much like Eddie's own, his jacket is still in a pile on the floor. His hair is a goddamn mess and, though he's tucked himself away, his slacks still hang open at his hips.
Fucking temptation incarnate.
"Steve." Steve looks up, his eyes are still shiny. "We can't. You're married."
Steve frowns, looking away again. He doesn't seem too happy about that. Taking in the frown lines on Steve's face, Eddie would guess the man is at war with himself. Running through all his options. He bets Steve wishes he could run off and find Robin, talk to her before finishing this conversation.
Unlucky for him, Robin is nowhere to be seen.
Eddie swallows down a lump in his throat. Has to force himself to say something he knows will wreck the both of them. "I think it's best that we don't see each other for a while."
Steve's head whips up so fast, Eddie's surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash. "What?"
Eddie shrugs, self-deprecating and overly conscious of the mess this all is. "I don't... I never intended to be a homewrecker."
Steve scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. "The home has barely been built, man."
A sharp exhale and Eddie's running his free hand through his hair. "That's so much worse! You've got to see that it's worse, Steve!" He takes a pull from his cigarette and blows the smoke out fast. "I was just gonna keep this shit to myself. I never expected this."
"You did it, though. You let me.”
"I did." Eddie chokes out, voice shaky. "And I shouldn't have. I'm fucking sorry that I did."
Steve nods. He's quiet for a moment, his head ducked and shoulders hunched. When he talks again, it's quiet. "How long then?"
Eddie tilts his head. "What?"
Steve looks up then, fierce eyes burning hard into his own. "How long until I see you again?"
"Oh." Eddie breathes softly. "I'm not sure." He swallows. "I need time to get over you, Stevie."
Steve's gaze has gone cold, frozen over. Eddie knows it isn't personal, he's just trying to protect himself, but it hurts all the same. "Well you should probably go then."
It stings like a shot to the heart. "Right."
He moves to stub out his cigarette, but Steve stops him before he can. "Leave the cigarette." Eddie nods, leaving it resting on the window ledge. He slips a hand into his pocket, thumb rubbing over the engraving on his lighter. He pulls it out, watches how the silver glints in the moonlight, and gently rests it down on the ledge as well.
He can't meet Steve's eye again as he walks out of his life for what he knows will be forever, but he does stop at his side. He leans in, presses a gentle kiss to his cheek. Whispers, "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." And rushes out of there.
He stops at the door before he leaves completely. Finds Steve stood at the window, Eddie's cigarette between his lips and dusty suit jacket draped around his shoulders. He flicks open the lighter in his hand, watching the flame flicker.
The last time Eddie Munson sees Steve Harrington, he is gazing out of the window into the moonlight, rumpled from Eddie's hands on his body, and Eddie knows his heart is never going to recover.
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austinstyles · 8 months
Text
 Married
Austin x plus size reader
Austin and the reader are getting married, and planning their special day and also experience this big day together. And Austin is being so supportive. Also I am not married myself. I am just writing form my dream weeding. Also you can choose the reader name.
Warning: kissing and spelling mistakes. Also a little age difference but not a big one. And mention of death. Tell me if I missed something.
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Y/n pov
Me and my amazing fiancé are planning your wedding. I am so excited to marry Austin, we have been together for 3 years and we decided to tie the  knot. My relationship with Austin has a 7 year age gap. I am 25 and Austin his 32. But actually I don’t think much of it because to us it is about love and compassion.and age doesn’t matter to us with the 7 year age difference. Also it is about respect for each other. I love this man and I can’t believe that I get to marry the love of my life. We actually meet at a cafe and started chatting. And a month after meeting we started dating, I was 22 and he was 29.
The plans for the weeding are going well, we both decided we wanted a summer wedding. I have actually already picked out my dress. My dress is a beautiful white sparkly dress. This dress when I saw it I knew that I was meant to get married in this stunning dress. Also I didn’t feel insecure in the dress at all.
My body is on the plus side, and my fiancé has never in our relationship made me feel insecure about myself. And we just have the kind of love we’re we never judge. We are comfortable with each other, I just love that I can be myself with Austin. Let’s also just say I feel for his gorgeous blue eyes and his amazing smile. But along with falling for is appearance I also fell for his personality. This man is amazing and i can’t wait to be his wife.
Austin pov
I can’t believe I am planning my weeding to marry my amazing fiancé. I can’t believe that I was so lucky to meet her, it was love at first site for me. Her laugh is so cute and I just smile every time I see her smile .
This woman y/f/n is my dream woman. And in a few months I get to marry her. We have actually also talked about having kids in the future. I know that y/n has wanted to have kids in her life, so we have definitely decided we want to have a child together. But for now we’re planning the weeding. I know y/n has picked her wedding dress, but I will not be seeing it until the weeding.
I myself have picked that I will be wearing a black weeding tucks. Me and y/n have also decided on the flowers we want for the special day. We are having sunflowers. We chose them because we both like the flower. Also we chose them because sunflowers have a special place in y/n heart.
In exactly 4 months form know I am getting married, and my amazing, beautiful fiancé will become my wife.
Y/n pov
I am at my apartment watching a movie all alone. Me and Austin don’t live together, but I am moving to his place when we get married. Today has been about wedding planning and sending out invitation. I have also been writing for my blog. Yes I have a lifestyle blog about little bits of my life. I was inspired one day to just write down a blog entry and my blog started for there. For me it has not always been about money in this world. I just want to enjoy the life I have.
At this moment I am just so excited about my weeding. This is mostly what I am thinking about all the time. I also today picked out mg maid of honor. I decided to ask my childhood best friend Lea. Me and Lea are almost like sisters, and I knew she would be the one that I want as my maid of honor. Actually I decided that for me my bachelor party I just wanted a simple hang out with my small group of close friends. My bridesmaids dresses are picked out and I went for a pastel pink dress. I feel that the bridesmaids dresses really fit with the summer theme for mine and Austin wedding.
Me and Austin have figured out most all of the things we needed for the wedding. I am so excited. This day will be one of the most special days of my life. I just can’t believe it is happening, I am so thankful that I found someone that appreciate me and I appreciate him.
Austin pov
Today marks 3 months until mine and y/n wedding, and today we are picking out a weeding cake together. We’re now at the bakery and just trying different cakes to figure out what we want. So that is wants happening today. All the cakes look amazing, I just hope we pick the one that fits for our wedding. As we’re trying some of the different cakes we figured out what cake we wanted after 2 hours.
I am happy with the cake we chose together. And I feel it totally fits what we want to have for the weeding.
I shared a quick kiss with y/n outside of the bakery when we’re done at the bakery. We ordered the cake and told them exactly the day of the weeding and how many guests are coming. As we pull away for out quick kiss I placed my hand over her shoulder. As we’re walking to my car. We decided to drive my car to the bakery. As we get in the car I started to drive away.
As I parked the car at my fiancé apartment I gave her a kiss. And as we pulled away she gets out of my car and I started to drive back to my place.
Y/n pov
As I walk into my apartment after Austin drove me home, I walked to the living room and just sat down on my couch and turd on my tv. I decided I wanted to watch a movie. So I chose to watch Elvis (2022) . And let’s just say I was mesmerizing with the amazing acting in this movie.
After the movie was finished I decided it was time for dinner. So I make my dinner and just checking my e-mails.
As the night goes on I started to get ready for bed. I had a busy day the next day.
As I lay down in my bed, I fell asleep quickly.
Time skip
Y/n pov
Today marks a month until I get married to my amazing fiancé. And I take his last name. I decided I wanted to take on his last name. For the past 2 months I have been busy with the weeding and my blog, also with partnerships I have going on. So I have been busy. But I am so excited for the weeding.
I have just been sent a picture of the bridal bouquet and it looks amazing. The sunflowers make me think of my sister. My older sister dead 2 years ago she was involved in a hit and run. After the death Austin was there to comfort me. I could never thank him enough for being by my side. I love this man with all my heart.
Me and Austin both know what it is like to lose a family member. But we also have a bond over our favorite music.
I think my sister would love to see me happy and marry the love of my life. She liked Austin and was happy I was happily in love with this kind man. Austin is a wonderful man. And in one month I am getting married to him. Everything for the weeding is planned and everything that is on my and Austin end is done. We even have the weeding rings picked out. I just am counting down the days. If you haven’t already guess I am very excited.
Austin pov
The weeding is coming soon. I can’t believe it is happening in a month for today. In exactly one month y/n will be my wife. Also we will finally be living together. We are also in the proses of moving in to the place we are going to be living in. I am excited to be living with the woman that I love and is going to be my wife.
Wedding day.
Austin pov
Today is the day I am officially getting married today. And I am so excited to see my wife to be. We haven’t see each other face to face for the past 3 days, because we wanted do have some days apart before the wedding. I fell the butterflies in my stomach. I am excited. And know in just a few hours I am marrying the most wonderful woman. I believe 100% she is my person.
Y/n pov
Today is mine and Austin wedding and I am so excited and happy. I have butterflies in my stomach, but I know that I am marrying the person for me. And know I am getting ready and just enjoying the time with my bride maids and maid of honor. I’m a few hours I am walking down the aisle.
No one pov
It was finally time to walk down the aisle for y/n. She was know walking down clowns closer to we’re her husband to be Austin is standing waiting. Soon as she stands in front of Austin the priest wanted to know if anyone wanted to object to Austin and y/n getting married. And no one objected, so then it was time for the vows.
Both y/n and Austin said their vows and know the rings were involved. Austin repeat after what the priest says. Them after Austin did it it was time for y/n to do the same.
Officially after sharing the first kiss as a married couple. And know they are officially husband and wife.
And know is only the beginning of the rest of their lives as a married couple. And tomorrow Tom they are moving in to their new house. Everyone around at the wedding can see their happiness. And how much love they have for each other. And new adventures are about to start.
Thanks for reading. Just wanted to say sorry about time skips. And sorry if it wasn’t as long as maybe some would want it. I tried. Also as always request are open. And leave me ideas for fanfics you want to see.
😃🩷👍🏻🌸🖤
Grace
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magpiemoon6 · 7 months
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Love me in the dark
(Chapter one)
Dbf Simon “ Ghost” Riley x OC
Word count - 2113
Summary - she’s worse than nicotine, he’s someone she should never want. Let the chaos begin.
Theme - smut, angst, fluff
Warnings - swearing, smoking, violence, mentions of trauma, age gap (12 years) , bit of enemies to lovers, so much smut
Written by - me and my friend!!!
Hope you all enjoy it was our first time writing a fanfic!!! 💗💗💗
Do I want to be here? No. Do I have to go to my dad's wedding? No but that means confrontation and fuck that shit.
Shimming the fuel pump in my hand, I pop it back, thinking about how I’m going to survive a week of family I haven’t seen since I was 15. The honking wakes me from planning to light myself on fire with the fuel in front.
“Va bene!! Sto andando!! Vaffanculo!!” (alright I’m moving ,fuck off!! ) I respond, hopping back into my car. Scanning the radio my eyes catch the time. Being late will not help my situation, I hit the accelerator and I lurch forward. I’m so fucked when I get to the villa. Moving the car towards the exit, my eyes keep flickering back to the time, I have zero excuses for being late. I literally live here unlike everyone else. My heart almost stops as a truck swerves out at the same time and scratches my car. Swearing everything under the sun I turn to glare at the twat. He’s already beat me to it; his eyes pierce mine with a sense of coldness that stays in my chest. The bastard is the one to hit me, yet he’s angry? What a pig! I am way too late to deal with this. Not that it's going to stop me from yelling some absurd insult at him before I go. Mr. Scary seems to have lost his mind and goes to get out of his car to yell at me. Slamming my foot on the accelerator again I bomb it out of the petrol station. Leaving the bloke who can’t drive in the dust.
———————————————————————
My heart is thundering in my ears, I can’t do this. Seeing a man who I haven’t seen in years now happy with his new wife and life. The shock that the invitation in the mail even came still confuses me. Why bother inviting your kid just because she now lives near the place you're getting married at? So, I am stuck because I still love him even though I want to strangle him with my anger. But that’s not what adults do so for the next week I will smile and lie and act okay.
Stepping out of my car I hurry towards the door that has become the epiphany of hell. Trying to sneak past family members is no longer an option. I begrudgingly plaster a stupid smile on my face and respond to their words all the same. With a constant stream of questions, “Maevis gosh how old are you now?” 25.
“No partner?” No. “Such a shame, you’re such a pretty girl, why don’t you date?” oh you know I’m just not ready. Complete lie.
“What work do you do again dear?” oh I’m between things right now. Another lie. Breaking away from the gawking, I wander aimlessly trying to find- or avoid, I haven't decided- my father in the garden and his fiancé. I can’t even hate her, she’s too sweet, too loving, she deserves better than him.
“Maevy?” I know that voice from anywhere. I turn to face him. He’s aged. I can see that the once black hair is entirely grey now with wrinkles deepening his surprise. Turning he stares shocked for a split second until he lumbers towards reaching for a hug. I’m squished and I can’t breathe, I love hugs but with him it feels like I’m hugging a stranger.
“You’re here?” he says conflictingly as if the person in his arms isn’t his daughter, but a sort of myth that was forgotten for a time. I feel like an exotic bird in a petting zoo. Letting me go, my dad introduces me to his soon to be wife Sofie. Her sweet perfume of roses gives her twinkling eyes a friendly face squeezing my arm reassuringly.
“So Maevy I want to introduce you to the wedding party”, my Dad boasts pulling me along towards more people. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. The long line of bridesmaids and groomsmen, then the maid of honour. Every single one of them is sweet but reminds me of people that are just about to go through a midlife crisis.
“Ah, here comes my best man, Maevis sweetie, to meet Simon Riley,” Dad says, turning us to see him.
He is so much younger than everyone else, he must be in his late thirties at most. And he’s way too hot for my dad’s friend. But then it clicks, and panic surges me. It’s Mr. Scary from the petrol station. For fucks sake.
Moving closer Mr. Can’t Drive extends his hand to me, he is so much taller than me. I probably look ridiculous with my mouth open. “… Cat got your tongue,” The way his arms are covered in tattoos winding up the exposed skin that’s littered with white scars, distracting from his insult.
“How was the drive here?” He smirks, as he holds my hand, taking it slowly to his lips keeping his eyes on mine. I want to punch his pretty face, smug bastard.
“Fine, only some dickhead scratched my car,” I quip holding his stare. I'm trying not to laugh in his face but his pissed off look is making it hard. “I’m going to go to my room and unpack maybe have a nap” I turn to my dad grinning, moving away from them all as I wave and speed up. Still a tiny victory over him.
———————————————————————
The warm water from the shower drowns out any thoughts, washing away my annoyance. I can avoid people until the morning and blame it on a long drive. Meaning I also don’t have to deal with him. The shower is fogging up my thoughts and I don’t want to leave. For an old villa the water pressure is heavenly.
Clattering from the kitchen, brings me out of bliss and straight to panic. It happens again and I begin to contemplate my life choices. Turning off the shower and wrapping myself in a towel, I grab the long wooden loofah, in fairness it’s that or the lavender shampoo. My blood pumps too quickly as I open the doors to the lounge area. The clattering is coming from the kitchen side, panicking. I run out to hit the creep with the loofa. The stranger spins so fast and catches it mid air along with me and pushes me down to the marble floor. The cold stone shocks me even more at who it was. “Why are you in my room?” seeing the creeps face only to find Simons.
His body on top of mine holding me in place with a hand on my arm with my weapon holding it firmly above my head. The other searing through the fluffy towel near my hip. I’m stuck in just a towel under my dad’s best friend, what type of shitty karma do I have.
“I’m not going to repeat myself again, love” he murmurs, staring at me. Breathing becomes harder. All I can smell is him. Cigarettes and cologne.
“It’s my room, asshole!” I snap back, I need to get away from him, my skin is on fire from where he’s touching me which feels like everywhere. Wiggling to try to free myself, he grunts forcing my eyes back on him as his hand under my head moves to hold my waist.
“Stop,” he warns.
“Then get off you bloody giant” I quip, he rolls off me. As the words leave my mouth like a reality check.
Moving to stand holding my towel for dear life I glare at him as he stands. Slowly his eyes inspect my attire.
“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Simon, get out” my voice rises, I’m not losing my room to a oaf with bad driving skills.
“I’m making a cuppa in the kitchen attached to my room,” he points to the door opposite of my room.
Fuck.
“No, no, this is my room. Not yours. I’m talking to my dad” turning straight for the door.
“Such a goddamn daddy’s girl. Christ'' he mutters.
This arrogant mother… breathe. My hands squeeze into fists, and I can’t calm down, he is driving me insane, and I’ve only known him for less than one day. And I am way too petty.
“Fine since my dad taught me to share with the less fortunate, we can share the lounge space. Stay away from me and i'll do the same for you.” Turning and folding my arms, smirking as I watch his face frown. We both stare at each other, the tension builds and for a split second I watch his eyes to my towel and back to me. And during that minuscule second the tension isn’t full of anger.
“Done” he grunts and takes his tea to go outside onto the shared balcony. Leaving me with my heart in my throat.
———————————————————————
Simon:
She is such a brat. How can someone so fucking small be such a big pain in the ass? I need to smoke something to settle my mind before I go back and end up arguing with her. My hands automatically find the box of cigs in my back pocket. Inhaling deeply as I light the end of a small light glows comfortingly. The harsh burn on the tip of my thumb keeps me steady, the heavy tobacco fills my lungs with warm sweet nicotine. But I can’t stop my mind from thinking about her. I’m reaching to call soap before I can think of the consequences of telling him about her.
“Aye what do ya want LT.? Missed me already ya sap?” Johnny's voice teases me through the line. Gripping the phone, it’s been five seconds, and he is making me rethink life decisions such as this phone call.
“Will you fuck off? I’m in a pissy mood as it is Johnny” huffing back. She is making me go mad if she is leading me to call this ugly mug.
“Do I wanna ken?” Johnny questions, moving closer to the speaker and from the sounds of it away from a toaster.
“English Johnny” I groan, dreading when we start work again. No matter how long I’ve worked with him, his accent doesn’t make sense. I’m pretty sure when he’s drunk he’s summoning something.
“Do I wanna know?” Nosey bastard as he is, he would nag me to tell him unless I jump the balcony.
“Paul’s kid, turns out she is a 25 year old brat who I have to share living space with.” I groan realising the reality of the situation, I am stuck for five days with her.
Eruptions of laughter break through the line and if there was a moment for the ability to punch Johnny through a phone to be possible I would want it to be now.
“Dinnae be dour, is the lass pretty?” Christ the bloke only thinks with his dick I swear.
“The fuck does that have with….she’s a pain johnny, this is becoming worse than our last mission,”
“So that’s a yes” soaps laughter is starting to grate my gears.
“What da ya do to the wee bonnie to ‘ate the likes of you then?” he inquires, the bastard knows me and my shitty driving, already prepared to mock me.
“I lightly grazed her convertible on the way here,” muttering, my thoughts move back to the bump and cringe at the very action.
“You fuckin’ nob no wonda she ates ya guts mate,” Soap mocks as if I am not aware of my own stupid decisions.
“I’m going now,” I’m done with this conversion, I can't deal with him reminding me how stupid I was since now I have her talking my ear off about it a few feet away.
“I like her” I can tell Johnny’s shoulders are shaking with laughter over my misfortune, I’m leaving him the next mission I swear.
“Fuck off Johnny”
His laughter is still in my ears as I cut the line. He isn’t wrong, as frustrating she is, God she is beautiful. Her grin is in my head like a spell, and I want to erase it. I need to erase it, for my sanity. She is my mate’s kid and also annoying as fuck. The cig burns my hands again as it dies in my grasp. Sucking in the tobacco, I need it to remove the memory of her. To wipe away any thoughts of what she would look like with my hand around her neck and my cock deep inside her. Fuck’s sake.
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