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nightdiary · 3 months

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first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?”

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks.

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

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rip-quizilla · 4 days

Text

Jinx

Janitor!Eddie X Teacher!Reader

700ish words

It was your first year teaching at Hawkins Middle School, and you’d already failed to establish a respectable work-life balance.

You were new to this career field, eager to prove yourself a capable educator. You always arrived early, always left late. Often, you wound up leaving after everyone but the administrators had already gotten home, undoubtedly to prepare dinner for their families or take care of household chores. You had no one waiting for you at home but your cats, so heading home around 5pm was the norm for you.

Today, you sat grading papers at your desk while Van Morrison played through your headphones. You’d finally settled into a rhythm, methodically bobbing your head to the beat as you drew check marks and X’s with a pink ballpoint pen when suddenly, something in your empty classroom moved out the corner of your eye.

You let out a startled yelp, joined by a twin curse from the ponytailed custodian who’d intruded upon your quiet room. He looked just as surprised as you were, eyes wide with headphones blasting what sounded like the screech of metal guitar from around his neck where he’d quickly shoved them off his ears.

“Shit-” he breathed, chest letting out a heaving breath, “-Sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“I didn’t see-” you began at the same time as him, apologies spilling out of you both simultaneously.

“I shouldn’t have been-”

“My headphones were-”

“Should’ve been paying more-”

“Wasn’t paying attention, I’m-”

“Sorry.”

You spoke as one voice, that last word filling the empty classroom. Slowly, an amused smile broke out across the custodian’s features, his idle hands stuffing themselves into the pockets of his black work pants. His eyes flicked over you at the speed of light before he broke the silence.

“Jinx.”

You chuckled quietly, pausing your music and setting your own headphones down on your desk.

“Guess I owe you a soda.” you retorted, your smiling voice made small by the overpowering after-hours quiet.

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I never say no to a soda.” Then he got to work, grabbing the small plastic garbage bin from where it sat by your door and pulling the thin plastic lining from it.

You returned to your grading, but left the headphones off your ears out of respect for the presence in your room. You didn’t want to appear rude, after all.

The custodian did the same, leaving his headphones around his neck as he performed various routine tasks around the room. Even from the opposite corner of the space, you could hear his music singing out at top volume from where it rested across his decolletage. Harsh screams and rage tore through the soft-looking spongey speakers, and you were struck by how much they were contrasted by the pleasant air that followed this man who was currently sweeping up crumpled notebook fringe from beneath a wooden desk.

You peered a little closer at his gray uniform shirt where a little embroidered patch sat stitched to his breast pocket. Eddie, it read. You committed the name to memory.

The two of you continued your work wordlessly until he finished, and just before he exited the room he shot you a friendly smile accompanied by a nod of his head.

“Have a good night.”

Those eyes were breathtaking; they were unwavering in their contact with yours. You nodded and grinned, trying not to sound quite as charmed as you felt.

“You too.” you said.

The next day, you’d needed to leave as soon as the final bell rang. Eddie had been slightly disappointed to find your door closed with the light off when he’d gotten to your classroom, but when he’d unlocked the door and flicked on the light to reveal a sweating glass bottle of Coca-Cola on the desk closest to the door, he could’ve sworn his heart did a backflip.

A pink post-it note sat stuck to the surface of the desk next to the bottle.

Eddie, soda’s all yours.

P.S.-per the rules of jinx, I can’t talk until you say my name.

You’d signed your name at the bottom, and Eddie admired the way the ink from your pen bled into a little starburst where the condensation had pooled into a drop at the base of the bottle and dripped to your note below. He peeled the note off, folding it carefully into a small square and sticking it in his pocket. He opened the bottle, lifted it to his lips and drank. It tasted sweet and bright, bubbly and full of unexpected possibilities.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb

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buckrecs · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

Undercover by @buckysknifecollection

You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.

Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser

You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.

The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex

Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians

On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating?

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did.

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fake dating #fake dating #bucky barnes fake marriage #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes college au #bucky barnes modern au #best friend!bucky

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thehusbandoden · 5 months

Text

Burnt -Dabi x Reader

A/n: felt angsty lol. I'll write an alternative ending or maybe a second part soon~! <3

General info:

Genre: pure angst \\ wc: 1,224 \\ posted: 01/03/2024

Summary: you gave the love of your life too many chances already. But this time? He crossed a line.. a line that should have never been crossed.

Warnings!: pure angst, no happy ending, spoilers of Dabi's backstory, Dabi's real name, arguing, toxicity, crying, mention of blood, suggested abusive childhood, trauma, gaslighting, manipulating, being badly insulted, being unable to apologize, flinching, being physically harmed, break up, shame, guilt, annd I think that's it! Pls let me know if I miss anything! <33

Alternative Ending- More Than Life Itself (Dw he doesn't get away with it, but it's fluff/comfort!)

Hurt coursed through your being as you glared at your beloved, biting your lip in pent up anger. “Why can’t you just trust me?! I’m not going to hurt you Touya!”

“Do not call me Touya.” He growled, his hands clenching into fists. “You’ve done nothing but use me. All you ever care about is yourself, you’re a lazy, selfish, manipulative, and flat-out disgusting woman.”

You open your mouth to retort, but quickly close it, shocked at his words. You only want him to be happy. All you do is provide love, support, shelter, and safety for him. You haven’t left him no matter how many times he’s insulted, manipulated, or gaslit you.

You gave him shelter in your own home, no matter the risks of police, heroes, or other villains. You sat there as he yelled at you, insulted you, and belittled you.

But... this?

This was too far.

“Do you mean all that?” You murmur, your eyes lowering to the floor. Your lip started to tremble.

Dabi sneered. “Yes. Every single bit of it.” His turquoise eyes were filled with pure hatred.

“Then just leave me.” You murmur, your hands shaking.

“What did you say?” Dabi scoffed.

“If I’m such a terrible person, just leave me and find someone better.” You spit, your e/c orbs filling with tears.

“Are you really crying? Pathetic. Maybe I will... I’ll find someone who’s a lot better. She’ll be gorgeous, loving, selfless, and best of all- completely opposite of you.” Dabi snickered, pulling his black combat boots on.

You don’t say anything. A few tears strayed down your face. Dabi scoffed. “Good.” You whisper.

Rolling his eyes, Dabi pulls on his long leather jacket and his large backpack stored with all his belongings. He came home only a few hours ago... you tried to tell yourself to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help it...

“Did you ever even love me?” You whisper, a few more tears joining the first.

Dabi paused, his turquoise orbs moving to the floor. He doesn’t say anything, hardly even breathing. Silence envelops the two of you for a few moments before he speaks. “I... don’t love anything. Or anyone.”

More tears fell.

“So what? I was just- a- a game?” Your voice shook. Your control began to tremble.

“You were something to pass time.” He muttered, running a large hand through his black hair. “Nothing more.”

A choked sob broke through your lips. “Nothing? Nothing else at all?”

“Yes. You were nothing but a stress relief.”

A second sob followed the first. You could have sworn you saw Dabi’s sneer falter for a mere second.

“What? Did you really think I could love someone like you?!”

“Just go. I would wish you misery-” your voice cracks, “-but you’re already cursed. You break whomever and whatever is around you. You destroyed us and you destroyed your fam-" -a loud smack echoed across the room. Everything but you and Dabi’s heavy breathing were heard.

You stared at the floor, your cheek burning. You couldn’t believe that the man you once loved and trusted could ever do something like this... he was not only cursed- but a liar at that.

Biting your lip, your tearful eyes meet Dabi’s cold ones. No one other than you wouldn’t be able to tell how he was truly feeling. But you knew that his eyes were full of regret, guilt, and shame. But he wouldn’t apologize. He never would.

“Get out.” You whisper, clenching your hands into fists. Dabi’s mouth opened ever so slightly.

“What did you say?” He asked softly.

“I said get out.” You demand. Tears fell down your face, making your cheek sting further. You silently cursed at your vulnerability.

“Oh, come on y/n- it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Dabi protested, reaching out to hold you. He was gaslighting you. Again.

“No! It was that bad! You didn’t only slap me Dabi, you burned me.” Dabi froze, your words finally pulling himself out of his delusional state. His eyes widened as he eyed your bruising cheek- it was not only bruising but burned.

His face fell in horror. He subconsciously reached his hand to your cheek. You flinch, and he slowly falls apart.

“Y-y/n- I-I...”

“Get out. Now.” Your gorgeous e/c orbs hardened in rage, and he finally realized how serious you were.

“O-okay... I’ll go.” He murmured, moving his heartbroken orbs to the floor. “I don’t want to see you again. Ever.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“E-ever?”

“Ever. You crossed a line, Dabi.”

Dabi froze as he heard you call him his villain's name... you always called him Touya... you were serious. He yearned to apologize, to hold you in his arms as he coos at you, to fix everything he ruined.

His body jerked forward, but he didn’t budge. Opening his mouth, he inwardly screamed at himself to just- do it. The words were at the tip of his tongue.

Memories of his childhood flashed before his eyes- the screaming, the insults, the endless apologies left ignored, or even punished. Something inside him snapped and he just- broke.

“Good. I’m glad. I’ll be much better without your pathetic self weighing me down.” He sneered, pushing you aside, sending you scrawling to the floor. “You’re pathetic. Did you think that I loved you?!”

Another sob broke from your lips. “Out.”

“Y’know what? Why should I? You get out. I’m staying.”

“I pay for this apartment Dabi! I buy the groceries, pay the bills, buy the furniture, pay for the repairs- this is my place!”

“And I’m going to stay. Now either shut up and deal or leave.” Dabi growled. You glared at the man, your fingernails digging into your palms.

“Dabi- leave. You’ve overstayed your welcome. Not only have you physically harmed me- whom you swore to protect, but you’ve insulted, belittled, and totally disrespected me. I want you out of my apartment by-” you were interrupted by Dabi tightly grabbing your arms, his flames burning into your flesh. Hissing in pain, you push Dabi to the ground. He lets out a loud curse before shooting back up to his feet, glaring at you. His hardened eyes involuntarily softened as he met your teary eyes. His heart stung as he watched you fall into yourself, sobbing.

Dabi kneeled to the floor, trying to make eye contact with you. “Listen y/n... I-”

“Leave! Go! I don’t want you or your apology! Leave or I will!” You sob, gripping onto your shirt tightly.

Dabi’s cold, broken, and at most times invisible heart- shattered.

He did this to you. He was a monster... he was just like Endeavor.

Nodding, Dabi stood up. He turned away, walking towards the door. He glanced at you once more before walking out. He could hear your sobs as he closed your front door. He clenched his hands into fists. After a few moments of listening to your wails of betrayal, lost, and hurt, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He threw a punch to his cheek, cursing himself out as he walked away. Blood streamed from his eyes; his burnt tear ducts burning in agony as his body attempted to cry.

He insulted you.

He lied to you.

He broke you.

He burnt you.

And the worst part?

There was nothing he could do to fix it.

~~~~~

Dabi's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <;3

~~~~~

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33

Alternative Ending- More Than Life Itself (Dw he doesn't get away with it, but it's fluff/comfort!)

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

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spicymushroomz · 4 months

Text

Baby, I’m Jealous

Sebastian Sallow x Ravenclaw!GN!Reader

Synopsis: You get asked out by a guy from Ravenclaw and a certain brunette is not happy at all

Not Proofread

All Characters aged up to 18.

Word Count: 1056

Warnings: Jealousy, not historically accurate, Sebastian is aware of readers feelings, no use of y/n, use of an oc love rival, rushed pacing, making out, probably bad writing.

Author’s Note: Omg im so sorry for not posting. Ive been rlly stressed and dealing with #issues lately so im so very sorry. Please enjoy this little sebastian sallow fic (p.s. I might make this into an actual fleshed out fic if y’all enjoy this!)

——————————————————————————

Well, this was certainly an unusual day.

You sat down at the Slytherin table to eat with Ominis and Sebastian like usual, talking about various gossip going around lately, and discussing what shenanigans you might get up to later.

“No Sebastian, I am not sneaking into Scribner’s desk to find her weird demented romance books.” Said Ominis sternly.

“But Ominis! It’s for the greater good!” Pleaded Sebastian as you giggled at the two of their antics.

You had started hanging out with them after Sebastian showed you the Undercroft. 2 years back, even after all you went through, you stuck by each other. After these 2 years, it was no surprise you were in love with Sebastian. Even from the beginning you thought he was gorgeous, and Sebastian wouldn’t have it any other way.

You see, Sebastian had been aware of your little crush since the day he showed you the undercroft. He saw the blush on your face as he taught you confringo. He thought you looked great when you were flustered. It’s why for the past few weeks he’s been teasing you, whispering softly in your ear, fleeting touches, and sometimes you could’ve sworn you caught him staring at you. (Not that he would admit that anyways)

You desperately hoped he would ask you out, but as the days went by that hope dwindled. You couldn’t really blame him though, especially because he was trying so hard to look for a cure for his Sister, Anne.

You silently resigned yourself to a quiet, single life forever. Or at least, until you got over Sebastian. (Which might as well be forever)

Which is what leads us to this very strange, peculiar day. As Sebastian continued to plead with Ominis to go steal Scribner’s weird romance books, they failed to notice Dmitri Lockhart, another 7th year in Ravenclaw.

You met him on your first day, he was kind, if not a little cocky, and mostly everyone liked him. Apparently, he was the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team’s beater. You thought he was fairly handsome, with his toned body, fluffy blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes. However you didn’t think he held a candle to Sebastian in terms of looks.

He sauntered over to the Slytherin Table, sliding in next to you.

“Hey there, [name].” He greeted.

“Hey Dmitri.” You greeted back. Sebastian clenched his jaw, his eyes lingering on how Dmitri’s arm was touching yours.

“So listen, I was thinking that maybe we could-well maybe we could go to Hogsmeade sometime this weekend?” He asked, stuttering a little bit. You were impressed by his straightforwardness but you wanted to refuse. As sweet as the boy was, you would rather hang out with Sebastian.

Which speaking of, was seething with jealousy. How dare Dmitri think he can just saunter over here and ask you out, especially because that’s what Sebastian was planning to do.

Sebastian looked at you, the faint blush on your cheeks made you look ravishing. What he wouldn’t give to kiss you there and then. But then this guy had to come over and make everything difficult. Sebastian knew that in the end it was your decision, so he just had to sit there and take it.

You smiled softly at Dmitri, and let him down gently. “I’m sorry Dmitri, but I’m afraid I already have feelings for someone else.” You said, glancing at Sebastian.

Dmitri nodded. “That can’t be helped then, sorry [name] see you later.” He said, getting up and walking back to the Ravenclaw table.

Sebastian smirked smugly. Of course you chose him over Dmitri, you were smart after all. He looked at you with dark eyes, like at any moment he would gobble you up.

“Excuse us Ominis, me and [name] need to go have a private discussion.” said Sebastian, leaving the table and gesturing for you to come with him.

Ominis sighed, hoping that whatever you guys were going to do, you would at least save some space for Jesus.

Sebastian dragged you out of the great hall and into a small corridor nearby.

“Where are we going?” You asked, excited. Sebastian looked at you with hungry eyes.

“[Name], I’m in love with you.” You turned red. This was not what you were expecting. You had no time to process before he hit you with a blunt question. “May I kiss you?” He asked frantically, his eyes fleeting from your lips to your eyes.

You were even more shocked, your brain short circuiting but still managing a small nod.

Sebastian wasted no time. Hungrily, he dove for a taste of your lips. He was like a starved man, having a meal for the first time in a month. He couldn’t get enough. He ravished you, not letting you come up for air for what felt like hours. His hands had wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He needed you closer to him. You drove him crazy, everything about you. From your lips, to your eyes, to the perfect shape of your body, everything. Everything about you was perfect for him.

When you finally looked at eachother, out of breath from the kissing, you were an utter mess. Dazed, and in a state of bliss you had no idea if this was real or the best dream you’ve ever had.

“I love you.” said Sebastian softly, “I always have.”

Realizing this was all real, and not some strange dream, you replied. “I love you too, I always will.”

——————————————————————————

Author: I know this is cringy, but I have been craving just a cringy little fic lately. It’s also nice to ease me back into writing after a short break.

#hogwarts legacy #literature #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #oc #fanfic

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

Text

Line of Sight

Top Gun: Maverick Jake “Hangman” Seresin x gn!WSOreader [no use of y/n]

1.8k | You’ve got to love how glasses can make even the hottest man then times hotter

====

Genre: fluff, crushing

CW: swearing

A/N: I saw a photo of Glen Powell in glasses and now that’s all I ever want to see. (Also, I wrote this on mobile again. So extra apologies if it looks weird or there’s more typos!!) || cross-posted on ao3

===

“I don’t see why you can’t just get the surgery,” Jake said, settling further into the uncomfortable office chair. The kind that were made for ten minutes of sitting and not two hours. You clearly didn’t know that though because you’d spend the past two hours on your feet, pacing.

He hadn’t wanted to spend his weekend this way. With you dragging him to various doctors appointments. He actually had a full day of cardio and lifting planned out before beers at the bar tonight, but he couldn’t turn you down once you gave him those puppy dog eyes. They were his favorite feature of yours, your eyes. He could get lost in them… and had on many occasions.

And here you were, trying on dozens of pairs of lenses that would be a barrier between him and Heaven itself.

“Because, Bagman,” you said, tilting your chin down slightly to stare at him over your latest pick. “I’m scared of those lasers fucking my eyes up.”

He scoffed. You were as bad a Rooster some days. Perched on a ledge watching life pass you by. At least you managed to keep Jake on his toes. As quick in the air as you were with your comebacks.

“How ‘bout these.” You pushed the pair up on the bridge of your nose and struck a pose that Jake could only roll his eyes at. “Hot, right?”

“You’re scared of lasers fucking up your eyes, B, but you go and pick out a frame that fucks up your whole face like that?”

If Hangman were looking - and he wasn’t - he could have sworn your face fell a bit at his comment.

Jake waved his hands at the wall. “Try on another one,” he said, purposefully avoiding looking at the small pile you’d already stacked on the technicians desk.

Off you went to peruse the wall of frames with your hands on your hips. Jake wasn’t entirely sure why you were so determined to find the perfect pair. The Navy didn’t exactly allow many choices. But you had been insistent on showing Jake every pair and he, rightfully so, had shot down every single one.

Perhaps slightly harsher than he’d been meaning to come off. It was unfair to take out the frustration of not being able to look you in the eye as well on you. Then again, they were your eyes.

Your eyes. Bright and fierce and blinding. Like the sun.

“I don’t understand what you have against glasses,” you called out to Hangman over your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you have against lasers,” he countered. When you didn’t respond, Jake let a smug smirk settle on his lips. “You could get contacts.”

He watched you shudder as you plucked another pair off the never ending wall of Jake Seresin torture devices. “And touch my eyes? No thank you.”

Jake sighed. You were impossible to reason with. Consistently so considering you’d been this way since he’d met you in flight school. It was how you’d gotten your callsign: Brick.

Because talking to you some days was like talking to a wall.

For obvious reasons, you took immediate offense to the name, but it stuck. Not everyone had the luxury of choosing their own callsigns in this job. One way or another you were going to end up with a nickname you hated. That’s just how the military worked. At least your commanding officers gave you a choice. Brick, bull, or mule. All stubborn. All equally as terrible.

You sulked for a week after that. Easily Jake’s favorite version of you because you had sought him out no matter where he was and hovered until he’d made some smart ass comment that brought a beautiful smile through. He’d always been the one to break down that wall, but you’d, steadily, build it right back up.

“I could put them in for you, B?” He offered, pinching the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut hard. Jake was ready to craft you a new pair of eyes if it meant the pair of you could. Leave. This. Office.

“These,” you said, “these are the pair.”

“I don’t think…” but the words died on his lips as he lifted his head. Jake couldn’t do anything but stare. If you were to ask, he wouldn’t be able to tell you the date or year or his own name. All he would be able to do is tell you how stunning you looked.

You grinned, and it made him want to stand up and cross the office and take your face into his hands and kiss that stupid grin right off your face. Jake wouldn’t even mind if the frames of those glasses got in his way. They were ridiculously hot. “Yup.” You grinned wider at the heat working its way up his neck. “These are the ones.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, unable to come up with a good reason for you to abandon this pair. “That’s the pair.”

“You should try some on, Hangman.” You tapped at the side of your frames, still wearing that stupid smile. It was so carefree that he couldn’t help but return it. “Who knows, you might like them.”

His smile flatlined and he crossed his arms. Pouty, like you had been when you asked him to come with today. “I won’t like it. I don’t wear glasses.” You shook your head at him. “I don’t! They’re a sign that I’m anything less than perfect and we can’t have that.”

“We can’t have that,” you echoed, rolling your eyes. “C’mon. I won’t tell anyone about your slip into mediocrity for one day.”

“I want to leave, Brick.”

“Not until you try on a pair of glasses.”

“No.” You crossed your arms at him, mimicking his posture. “I’m serious.”

The sigh you let out almost does Jake in. He’s tempted to try on every pair of glasses. Just to please you, but this asshole mask has been fixed firmly in place for so many years. There’s no sense is removing it to make room for glasses.

“I’m serious, too.” He made a show of making himself as comfortable as possible in this impossibly uncomfortable chair.

“Jake.”

“Nope.”

“Seresin.”

“Not happening.”

“Hangman.”

“Brick.”

“Wall.” You point at yourself.

And that’s when Jake realizes there’s no winning this fight. Not with you digging your heels in like this.

“Fine,” he relented. “One pair. So they better be good.” As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Giving a stubborn person like you a task demanding perfection. “Oh not those, please.”

Your hand hovered over a pair of Ray-Bans that look suspiciously like a different WSO’s. “Why not? They look good on Bob.”

“Glasses do not make a person more attractive.” Jake prided himself for the slightest moment on not stuttering during that little white lie, though he couldn’t bring himself meet your eye. You were too good at picking out his fibs. “I am not wearing Bob’s glasses.”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “They make Bob look hot.”

“You think Bob - callsign ‘Bob’ - is hot?” Something hot shot through Jake. Same as when he was up in the air and Rooster catches Mav’s praise instead of him. “Since when?”

“Since he stared giving you ego checks.” You plucked a pair of glasses off the wall in a haphazard, random fashion and make your way over to Jake. “Here,” you say, “these are going to look good.” You bend over to put a pair of thick-framed black glasses on his face. Completely opposite of the pair Bob wore. He smelled the detergent you used on your clothes on laundry duty last night. He tried hard not to look like he leaned in closer as you move away to look at him.

“Well?” Jake asked, bringing a hand up to monkey with them. “How do I look.”

“I’d be able to tell if you’d sit still for once in your life,” you huffed. Then stomped over to readjust them and Jake let himself bask in the warmth of your nearness a little longer. “You’re as bad as Payback.”

“You’re doing an awful lot of comparin’ today, B.” Hangman laughed as you stuck your tongue out him. His careful eyes watched you walk backward to take him in again. “So, verdict?”

“They’re- uh, you… you look fine.” The stony facade of flirting and nothing more has cracked. Jake can see by the way you fiddled with your fingertips and the part in your lips as you held back a sigh.

He sat up with a laugh. “You’re swooning!” Jake pulled himself out of his chair and reached for a mirror. The reflection that stared back was handsome. A scholar more than a smartass. If he ever matured, this would be the perfect way to show it.

“Okay, Narcissus.” You snatched the mirror from his hands. It is returned to the table. Face down. “Enough staring at yourself.”

“I’m more Adonis than Narcissus, wouldn’t you say?” He laughed at the groan you let out. “What? I can’t help how hot I am in glasses.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“I’m hot, but am I Bob hot?” He teased.

“Oh, shut up.” You plop down in the empty chair next to him, rubbing at your neck, and avoiding his eye.

“You’re turning red…” he said, lips quirking back into a devilish grin - “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Seresin!” - “Red as a brick!”

You rolled your eyes at his stupidity, and he was glad to still clearly see that glint of affection through your glasses. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It kills the joke if I have to explain it, B.” He nudged you softly with his elbow. “I should have expected it, being the smartest one in the room and all.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” He pulled down his glasses to look at you over the tops of the frames.

“Not remotely.”

“Not enough to buy me lunch?”

You let out a laugh. He wanted to freeze that moment in time to capture this flirtatious laugh of yours. “Definitely not that much.”

“I just spent an entire Saturday following from doctor to dentist to doctor-”

“Fine,” you cut him off, “I’ll buy lunch, Bagman.”

“Dick.”

“Hey!” You snap your head to the side to look at him and use one finger to push your glasses down so that you’re staring Jake straight in the eye. “It’s Brick to you, sir.”

“That completely defeats the purpose of having glasses, you know.”

You smiled. He wanted to drop his gaze down to your lips but knew the implications that would hold. So, instead, he held your gaze.

“I know, I just want to look at you.”

His heart stuttered at your words. The two of you stare for longer than either of you had dared to push past before turning to look your separate ways. Maybe coming with wasn’t such a bad decision.

====

Tag list:

@rosiahills22

#top gun maverick #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #rueben payback fitch

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yasuosexual · 4 months

Note

hello! i may have been binging your posts they're so good-- i was wondering if you could write how the elezen men and thancred would react to finding out the wol is pregnant?

anon you have read my mind! 😳 this was next on my list to post!!! i had another request about naming the baby after them, so that is coming next!

warnings: pregnancy, established relationship, HW spoilers, SHWB spoilers (is that even the shadowbringers acronym…)

THANCRED:

- when you tell him, he is shocked at first— this definitely wasn’t planned. it doesn’t take him long to be overwhelmed with joy, though.

- brings you into a tight hug, but releases his grip as soon as he remembers that his child is inside of you. he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt either of his babies!

- “i’m going to be a dad!” sir you already are

- the first person he tells is ryne, who is elated to hear of the news. the rest of the scions are just as happy to hear that a new baby scion will be joining the league!

- the happiest of all, though, is thancred. he is over the moon with the idea that he will get to have a miniature version of himself. he kisses your tummy every single night and makes sure to talk to his baby. he loves to tell people that his child will be handsome like his father, but inside he hopes it looks just like you.

AYMERIC:

- with all that life has brought for aymeric, a bit of joy was in order. and he was filled to the brim with joy when you told him you were pregnant.

- you hadn’t seen his eyes shine with such intensity since the day you got married. his hands instantly wrapped around your sides as he looked you up and down. you noticed tears forming at the corners of his eyes which you promptly wiped.

- the two of you shared an emotional hug. both crying, for the same yet different reasons. you were both delighted with the thought of becoming parents, but aymeric had more on his mind than that.

- it didn’t matter that his child was yet to be born— aymeric made a promise to himself to always love his child for whoever they are and whoever they want to be. his child would forever be of house de borel. no shame, no guilt, no nothing, because his child is loved, and will forever be loved. and this day, aymeric swore to be the father he never had, and to protect his child no matter what comes his way.

HAURCHEFANT:

- he cried when you told him he was going to be a dad. salty tears of joy streamed down his face as he picked you up into his arms, very careful around your abdomen.

- haurchefant was overjoyed to become a father! he couldn’t wait to welcome the littlest knight of ishgard to his family.

- he didn’t take much time to relish in the thought— he ran right to house foretemps to tell his dad all about it. edmond, emmanellain, and artoriel were all excited to hear the news! emmanellain made sure to ask as many embarassing questions as possible, earning disdainful looks from his father and older brother.

- you didn’t mind the questions, though, and found it quite cute how the brothers fawned over you and their unborn nephew. despite haurchefant being his illegitimate son, edmond was happy to be given his first grandchild. and you were even more happy that your child would have the most loving family.

ESTINIEN:

- estinien is a bit puzzled at first… he coulda sworn that pull out game was strong …

- estinien is a bit puzzled at first… he is going to be a dad… he’s going to be a dad?!!

- after your words sink into his head, estinien cups your face with his hands. he’s smiling, like a complete idiot, and it’s a little scary! but you can feel the intense warmth radiating off of him.

- he pulls you into a hug and spins you around in the air. when he sets you down, he kneels to meet your abdomen. placing one of his hands on your hip and the other on your tummy, he rests his ear flat against you to listen.

- you can’t help but giggle at his gesture as it seems a bit goofy, but he’s actually obsessed with the fact that you’re going to have his child! he jokes that his child will become a great dragon-slaying warrior as he is, and you can’t help but smile and agree.

celly

aymeric’s story makes me so freaking emotional and i could write an entire book all about having a family with him like 😭 i relate to him in so many ways… comfort character moment

also i get that haurchefant’s isn’t exactly lore accurate… personally i’d like to think that if he didn’t die that the relationships between his dad and half-brothers was created/mended … one big happy family 🥺

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seriesxwriting · 9 days

Text

Let me show you who I really am

Pairing- Kol Mikaelson

Series- vampire diaries

Summary- usually you’d get quite a few boys ask you to prom, but not this year. Apparently they were all scared of your admirer who wanted you all to himself.

Warnings- kissing, vampire killing, mentions of blood, detailed description of killing.

“I can’t believe it was over a month since I posted- I apologise! I will try to be more active but sitting A levels has apparently hindered my ability to come up with ideas. Just bare with me <3”

It was finally the day of our school prom. I’d been stressing about what to wear, how to have my hair, what colour to use on my lips. But the biggest thing I was stressing about, was who I was going to go with. It’s not a flex but in the past I’ve had multiple offers from boys to go to dances or gatherings. But this time, nothing. Not one offer. I even went out my way asking hector wathe to come with me, seems we’d gone to a dance together last term. But he just shook his head and ran away from me. I would have been embarrassed if I wasn’t consumed with confusion about his behaviour.

So I gave up on the date thing, assumed I’d be going myself. But my girl’s picked me up, ditched their dates so they could come with me. Prom was about friendship anyway. Not a random boy I’d forget once I made a life for myself.

“Y/n? Is that you?” My mother called as I walked through the door. I smiled as she entered the hallway with a giant box in her arms. “This came for you sweetheart” she edged over to me passing the box into my arms. “What is it?” I questioned frowning. “We haven’t opened it, it’s private” she shrugged staring at the box. I could see her mind was racing with the possibilities of what could be inside. “Thanks mum” I swallowed joining in with her thinking myself. Who was it from. What was in it. I carried it up the stairs as my mum filtered back into the living room to watch whatever was on the tv. I put the box on my bed and then lifted the lid off it, curious about the details. There was a note on top of the white tissue paper.

“Saw this and it reminded me of you, thought you’d look good in it, like you do in everything” I whispered as I read it out to myself. My eyes flicked down to the bottom “from Kol” my eyes widened at the three letters of his name. Kol? Why would Kol send me a dress? What game was he playing? Sure id noticed his eyes lingering on me for a while too long before and noticed how his deep eyes compelled me to stare into them until I melted. But that doesn’t give him a reason to send me a dress. I placed the card on my bed and unwrapped the tissue paper. I pulled out this gorgeous emerald dress. It had a silver strip coming from the waistline all the way down the sides of the leg spilt. It looked as if they’d put the gems on by hand, one at a time taking precaution not to ruin or snag any part of it. The dress was slightly off the shoulders which would make my chest look great.

It was overwhelming. It must have cost a fortune. But here it was in my house, lying on my bed. All because of Kol? A Mikaelson was showing me more interest than any of the boys from school. He was supposed to be a sworn enemy, and because of that, I folded the dress back up and put it back in the box. I already had a dress. It was a lot simpler and less expensive but it was mine. And it wasn’t gifted to me by a deranged, gorgeous psychopath. No I meant a deranged, bloodthirsty, psychopath. Not gorgeous. I couldn’t have meant gorgeous. Putting the note back, I lifted the box putting it under my bed where no one would find it. I’d give it back to him if I ever got the chance. It wasn’t right to keep it let alone wear it. Plus I was running out of time overthinking this, I had to get ready.

I curled my hair after my shower and put on my red dress. It didn’t have sparkles on it, but it did have a cute leg slit and a nice tied up back. “Mum!! Can you come and do me up!!” I yelled out of my room. A minute or two later she came plodding up the stairs. She stopped in front of me smiling and her eyes filling up as she raised a finger to wipe her tear. “Oh y/n you look so gorgeous” she whimpered walking over to hug me. “Thanks mum” I whispered nuzzling my face into her neck with a grin across my cheeks. “Come on, let me tie the back” she smiled ushering me over to the mirror. “Oh- y/n have you noticed this rip?” She blinked looking at the back of me. “RIP?! Where!!” I turned around trying to have a look in the mirror. “Here?” She pointed looking stressed herself. “Oh god- what am I going to do- can you fix it?” I blinked at her in utter panic. “No- well yes- but not in time for your prom” she shook her head having a closer look at it. “Come on, I’ll need to work fast, you’ll only be a little late, take it off” she patted me on the back but I eyed the box sticking out from under my bed. “No- no it’s okay, I’ll wear something else” I blinked, not taking my eyes off it. “Something else? What else do you possibly have to wear to a prom?” She raised an eyebrow following my eyeline.

“I’ll meet you and dad downstairs, give me ten minutes” I smiled rubbing her shoulder. “Alright…” she trailed off leaving my room full of confusion. I didn’t move. I swallowed staring at the box. Would it be completely wrong to wear it? I had nothing else I could wear. Surely my friends would understand. I sighed walking over to it, clipping on the floor in my black heels. Taking it out from under my bed. I held it up over my body looking at it in the mirror. I put my head on one side thinking for a second. Before removing all the thoughts out of my head and putting it on. I walked down stairs to my parents sitting in the front room. Their eyes widened as I walked in. “Y/n! That dress is stunning where did you get it?” My mother gasped covering her mouth with her hand.

“It was a gift” I bit my lip not wanting to say anymore. “You look amazing darling, you’ll be the best dressed there” my dad smiled at me. With that the door bell rang. “That must be the girls” I smiled rushing out as fast as the dress would let me go. But when I opened the door the girls weren’t there. Kol was. He stood with his famous smirk, his hand held a big bunch of roses as his eyes looked me up and down. “So I was right, it does suit you” he joked, my jaw was ajar now staring at him. “What are you doing here- why are you wearing a suit and- why do you have flowers- why did you send me a dress?” I hissed coming outside closing the door so my parents wouldn’t hear us. “Because I’m taking you to prom” “erm- no you’re not!” I scoffed almost laughing. “You don’t have a date? So why can’t it take you?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“There are a number! Of reasons why you can’t take me to prom kol” I laughed before the realisation sank in. “How the hell do you know I don’t have a date?” I whispered frowning at him. His brown eyes slimmed on me as his smirk widened. “I may have sent out a message to some guys- that you were taken” he shrugged his shoulders. “What?” I blinked in disbelief, my breath hitched. “I want to take you, I don’t want other guys putting their hand on you” he told me slamming his eyebrows down. “You’re serious?” I asked him in a quiet voice. “You’re a vampire kol- you’ve hurt my friend- not only that you’re an original…” I trailed off holding the door handle. “And what?” He shrugged laughing. “I’m here aren’t I? I’m not lying I’m not causing trouble- a vampire can’t admit his feelings for a girl?”. “Feelings? For me? I’m just an ordinary human Kol” “you’re not ordinary y/n- you’re different from your friends, different from all humans” he smiled staring into my eyes. “How” I slimmed my eyes at him shaking my head not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“You think you can put me on the spot y/n?” Kol chuckled to himself. “The way you carry yourself, the way you stick to your morals, your loyalty to those you love, your way of seeing the best in people even if they have hurt your friends- you’re out here talking to me, you could have stayed in your house in the safety- so you must be slightly intrigued or trust me slightly- just give me a chance y/n” he put his head to the side as I consumed everything he dumped on me. “I will protect you- treat you right- I just want a chance to show you who I really am, I don’t want anything more to do with klaus and his mess- let me show you that” he begged, I saw it in his eyes. He wasn’t lying, if he was he was a damn good lier. I wasn’t wearing vvraine so he could have compelled me but, he didn’t. “Okay- you have one night to make me feel anything but uncomfortable around you” I raised my eye brow at him reaching out for the flowers. I smiled at them clutching them between my arms. “I’m gonna grab my bag and text the girls to meet me there- you can wait here” I told him with a little smile warming up to the idea of Kol Mikaelson liking me. If he was a normal boy this would be so much easier, he was attractive- he was gorgeous. But he wasn’t normal, he’s a vampire who’s been around 1000 years longer than me.

I did as I said I would before saying goodbye to my parents. I met Kol outside his car where he opened the door for me before getting in his own side. He drove us to prom while keeping up basic conversation, which just intrigued me more. I wanted to know what he was up to. We got to the prom location in under twenty minutes. When no one was looking Kol vamp ran round to my side and opened my door for me. “Kol!” I hissed shaking my head. “Don’t do that you could get caught” I whispered as he put his hand out for me. I took it gently. “They wouldn’t be alive very long if they did catch me darling” he whispered in my ear as I stepped out. “I don’t want any killings here tonight, or I’ll never forgive myself” I widened my eyes at him. “Yes mam” he smirked leaning in closer to me. There wasn’t much room between my back and the car or my front and kol. “I can hear your heart racing darling” he whispered tucking my hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t kiss you until you ask me to, and you will” he winked before stepping back and putting his arm out for me.

“You’re delusional” I giggled rolling my eyes taking his arm. We walked towards the enterance and kitty Renfeild stood outside with a camera. “Hey y/n- and y/n’s handsome date” she winked at Kol who completely blanked her without him even knowing I was looking at him. His arm wrapped around my waist and he whispered “going have to get a little closer now love” he pulled me into his body. The flick of jealously I felt from kitty’s comment was what I blamed my actions on. I pressed my body against him putting my other hand on Kols chest. I heard him chuckle as I posed for the photo. “Have fun” she told us after snapping the photo and in we went. There were lot of people here even though we were maybe ten minutes early. There were flashing lights and drink tables everywhere. People were already dancing to the shit music playing. “Has Kol Mikaelson ever been to a high school prom?” I asked him smiling up. “Oh I’ve been to my fair share of dances, balls and whatever was going on in the 1920s but never a prom” he laughed catching my eyes. “And I’ve never had such a gorgeous date to attend any of these events with” he winked. “Quite the charmer ain’t you” I nudged him gently.

“Y/n? What’s this all about?”. I look up and see Elena, Bonnie and Caroline all staring at me like I’m an alien. Or, staring at Kol like he’s an alien. “Hey girls…” I trailed off as my heart started pounding. Kol clearly picked up on it because his grip round my waist became tighter. “I can explain, I have a thing for y/n- have done ever since I laid my eyes on her and i decided now was the time to tell her” “what” Carolin blinked in horror. “He’s a Mikaelson y/n” Elena widened her eyes at me. “He doesn’t want to be involved anymore” I shook my head at her hoping they’d find some way to look at this differently. “You can’t trust him- he’s a vampire” Bonnie hissed at me, her face pulled into disgust. “Well that’s why I’ve braught him- to see if I can trust him” I told them with a little bit of a shrug. The girls all looked round at each other. “I’m done with all klaus’s shit, I want to prove that- not necessarily to you guys but to y/n” he told them blankly. “I’m sorry y/n, but I don’t like it” Elena stepped back before rushing off into the crowd. Kol rolled his eyes at her “she’s always so dramatic”. “I…” Caroline trailed off not knowing what to say in this situation.

“I’m going to get some air, will you be alright for a second” I tapped Kol on the bicep. “Yes gorgeous” he nodded brushing my hand with his. That made me smile. Even within this mess. My friends hated the idea of me and Kol being together, on a serious level. Elena was ready to cry about it. But what made it worse was the fact that I thought I was really starting to like him. He was charming, he was handsome, he was bold and confident. He was my type. I made it outside to the side of the tent and took a deep breath. I had two options here, to lose my friends and continue on with Kol- or leave him now. And that was a hard decision. “Y/n, i didn’t expect to see you here”. I whipped around seeing klaus standing opposite me. He had a girl in his arms and blood was dripping all down his chin. Her neck had been torn open. Klaus’s eyes illuminated orange as fear spread across my face. “Klaus- what have you done…” I whispered blinking at the lifeless girl.

“I came to create a massacre, I’d say I’m going to start with you but I’ve already started” he chuckled throwing the body on the floor. Klaus walked a few steps towards me while I took a few back hitting the tent behind me. “Why are you doing this?” I gasped as he vamp ran in front of me. I could smell the blood that was smothered across his mouth and T-shirt he was that close. “Because i simply can” he smirked reaching out for my hair. I pushed his hand away from me scrunching my face up. “That was stupid” his eyes lit up again as anger starting to corse through his veins. I saw his jaw tighten emphasising his anger. “It was stupid to come out alone anyway” he grunted and my last thought was about to be ‘klaus is right’. As he lunged forwards towards my neck his body got ripped away from me and he flew backwards hitting a tree with a thud. I pannted looking around before finally seeing my hero. Kol stood there scowling at his brother who was in the process of standing up. “She didn’t come alone brother” Kol raised his eyebrows. Once klaus stood up he flicked his eyes between us assessing the situation.

“A human?” Klaus chuckled from a distance. “I thought you were into witches” “I thought you were into Caroline but we all know how that worked out” Kol walked closer to me standing in front of me as if he was a shield. “What are you playing at Kol?” “I like her, and you aren’t going to touch a hair on her head without going through me” Kol answered folding his arms across his chest. Klaus laughed, it went right through me making my blood boil. “I could easily get through you” “so do it” Kol shrugged letting his arms lose once again. “I’m sure we will see each other real soon little brother” klaus nodded before vamp running away into the forest. Kol turned around and came to me fussing and checking I was okay. “Kol! I’m fine- do you realise how many people you just saved” I questioned almost weak from the shock of his protection. “I don’t care y/n, you are my priority, when you’re with me you will be safe I’ll make sure of it” he told me brushing a finger down my cheek. I felt my cheeks going red. He made me feel emotions I’d never felt towards a guy before.

I pushed my body against his and wrapped my arms slowly around his neck gently pulling his head down to meet mine. Our lips met, gently at first but then Kol gripped my waist, pulling me even closer to his body. There’s something about almost dying that makes you do crazy things. Life is short, and I want to try life with Kol. No matter the repercussions.

Kol masterlist

The vampire diarie masterlist

All series masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

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gerec · 2 months

Note

Hi Gerec! Do you know any fics where Charles and Erik *actually* first met when Charles was 17 like what he said in the first X-men movie? I swear I’ve read some of them but now I can’t find them anywhere, so I’m hoping you know some. Thank you!

Hi Anon,

Here are a few fics where Charles meets Erik when he's 17. I could have sworn that I've read another but for the life of me I can't find it ugh! If I come across it again I'll be sure to post it on my blog and in the cherik tag!

If anyone can help Anon with more fic suggestions please let us know thanks!!!

our hearts won't rust by orphan_account

He wants to hold the face of the man whose thoughts he is even now struggling to keep separate from his own, wants to share with him the greatest truth and cruelest lie Charles knows - that he isn’t alone, that neither of them are, not if they don’t want to be. AU. Charles meets Erik during a summer abroad when he is 17.

Nevermind the End by OfAGroovyMind

What if Charles really did first meet Erik when he was 17 years of age?

our hearts will always separate. by writer_in_progress (WIP)

“When I was 17, I met a young man named Erik Lehnsherr.“

#gerec rambles #cherik #fic search #alternate first meeting #canon

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 3 months

Text

Active Authors Masterlist (9)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /

***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***

Created: January 7th, 2023

Last Checked:-----

AntiKryptonite :: ao3

Popular Fic: Banked Flames and Burned Bread-A spark can catch fire in an instant, and before Katniss ever even knew he was alive, Peeta was already on fire. // In some ways, Katniss fell in love with Peeta the minute those burned loaves of bread hit the muddy ground.

Court81981 :: ao3, ffnet

Popular Fic: Crash My Party-Modern AU. Peeta Mellark has never been able to say no to Katniss Everdeen. But after years as friends with benefits, that's going to have to change. Everlark.

daydreamsandcaffeine :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Naughty or Nice-Summary: Peeta lost a bet, so now he has a temporary new holiday uniform. Katniss reaps the benefits. A holiday modern AU

deinde_prandium :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Extension Request-“Are you sure you didn’t ask for an extension?” “Pretty sure. I don’t remember sending anything.” “Well, you might want to search your memory again, because your inbox has an email from a Peeta Mellark with the subject line, ‘Re: paper extension pretty please.’” --- In which Katniss learns the hard way that it's never a good idea to email your TA when hopped up on pain medication. Especially when that TA is someone as attractive as Peeta Mellark.

FanficAllergy :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Let Me Fly-When a plague hits District Twelve, Katniss is forced to make some very hard decisions. Together with Gale and what’s left of their families, they decide to escape District Twelve, taking a reluctant Peeta Mellark with them. (@fanficallergy)

hutchabelle :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Too Familiar-Katniss and Peeta enjoy a close friendship that might be a little too familiar, especially when one of them is married. Prompt: Envy

oh_so_loverly :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr

Popular Fic: Closer-Seventeen-year-old Katniss Everdeen returns to her childhood home after years of living out of state, only to find that the town, and certain residents in it, are not quite how she remembers- especially a certain boy who she could have sworn once had blue eyes.

orangecranscones-ao3

Popular Fic: i've been on fire, dreaming of you "I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again." Katniss and Peeta try to heal after the revolution. And they (mainly Katniss) finally learn how to love each other.

Strawberry_Cow725-ao3

Popular Fic: Help Me Hold Onto You “I didn’t want to lose you! I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just– I didn’t want to lose you.” I suck in a shaky breath. “And this is all so much, so fast that I can’t even make sense of it. And I’m so scared of whatever I’m feeling, and of who I’m going to be from now on, and what’s going to happen after we get off this train. But I still don’t want to lose you.” — Katniss doesn't let Peeta walk away on the train tracks.

Word_Addict :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: You Make Me Feel-Peeta and Katniss meet, not at the Reaping, but at a dance months later. Will they still find a spark, even without the Games to ignite it?

#authors #active authors masterlist #active authors #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #everlark #masterlist #thg

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 4 months

Text

Sweet Home Alabama

Chapter Fifteen of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: After everything is said and done, Linley finds herself back on the beach. Their beach. The beach where she was struck with lightning at ten years old. The beach where Jake asked her to marry him. The beach where Jake is, in the middle of the heavy rain, pounding lightning rods into the sand. This is her last chance to win him back. He's always been the love of her life, Linley's just not sure if she's still the love of his. What happens on that beach could change everything.

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: This chapter takes place in the middle of a lightning storm. That's it! Oh - and our couple finally have an amorous moment in Jake's truck.

Word Count: 3324

A/N: The final chapter, y'all! I can't believe it. We're finally at the end of Jake and Linley's story. It's been a long road, and a part of me can't believe we're at the end. I want to take this time to thank everyone who has been reading this story, again. I can't say it enough, how thrilled and genuinely shocked I've been with the amount of love and support you've shown me!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

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It’s dark, and you can barely see out of the windshield as you drive slowly down winding single-lane country roads. You’re keeping your eyes peeled for Jake’s terrible orange truck, and in truth, you nearly run into it as you drive past the beach. When you get out of the car, the rain whips into your face, and each step makes your feet sink into the scrub grass and loosely packed sand. You’re still wearing your dumb white heels, thankful at least that you don’t have a sodden veil to contend with as the wind tugs your hair from your updo and melts your makeup. You yank the heels off and walk onto the beach, where everything seems to start and end for you and Jake Seresin.

Flashes of lightning trail across the sky as you pick your way through the sand, your heels in one hand, your long train in the other. Jake’s pounding rods of some kind of metal into the sodden soil, water trailing in rivulets across his head and soaking into the heavy jacket he’s wearing. He doesn’t seem to mind it, either, if his single minded focus as he finishes his tasks are any indication. You stand there for several moments, taking in the lean lines of his muscles as his clothes cling to him.

“Hey, cowboy.” Your voice is nearly too soft over the raindrops meeting the river. “Hey, cowboy!”

This time, he hears you, and when he turns around, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“You owe me a dance!” There’s a coy smile on your face as you stand there in your designer wedding dress quickly growing transparent in the rain. It doesn’t escape you, the heat in his eyes as he scans over your form.

“Well, Linley.” His voice is a near purr. “That’s an awfully nice dress. Where’s your husband?”

“I’m looking at him! Apparently, you and I are still hitched.” When those words finally reach him, Jake looks dumbfounded.

“Is that right?” He tugs the heavy gloves on his hands off wiith shaking fingers. “I could’ve sworn I signed a pair of papers the way a pretty little thing begged me too. If she wanted to stay married to me, how come she didn’t tell me?”

This is a game you’ve been playing with Jake Seresin your whole life. The first person to capitulate to a question loses and wins the prize of their choosing. There’s a smile growing on your face as you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me you came to New York?”

Something like a chuckle spills out of his mouth. Jake runs his hands through his sodden hair, sluicing water ineffectually away.

“I - I needed to make something of myself.” You nod consideringly, though your heart breaks just a little at the thought that Jake felt like he needed to make something of himself to win you back. His fortunes or lack thereof never bothered you. All you’ve ever needed was to know he loves you.

“Well, are you about done?” There’s shock in his face as he stomps past you.

“What is it with all of you Southern girls?” You nearly have to gallop to keep up with the way his long limbs eat up the sand.

“You can't make the right decisions ‘til you tried all the wrong ones?” Your dress is plastered to your skin as you try to grasp one of his swinging hands.

“At least I fight for what I want, which is more than I can say about you!” These words, more than anything, are what stops him in his tracks.

“Well, what do you want, Linley?” When you fail to respond, he spits out, “I don’t even think you know!”

“I-I do know.” You take his hand in yours. It’s warm and big, slightly rough and calloused but so gentle as it wraps around your chilled palm. “I think I always have. I was just deluding myself because I wasn’t sure how much I deserved what I wanted.”

“You were my first kiss, Jake. My first love, my first heartbreak, my first everything. I realized by coming back to Pigeon Creek that I also wanted you to be my last everything.”

“Well did you ever think that maybe we had our chance, seven years ago?” You’re sure your heart is breaking again.

“If that’s what you think, then why are you still here?” You’re swallowing tears as you let go of his hand, your arms curling around your midriff at the thought. “Have it your way, you stubborn idiot!”

You turn around, not caring that in your hold, your heels are rubbing up against your dress and leaving marks on the white fabric. Maybe there really is no hope. You’re dragging your heels as you walk away, feeling cold and lonely. Maybe you should drive to New York. Your dad can just ship your things to you or maybe Bradley will as a last favor to you? Anything would probably be easier than facing your family and friends back in the covered tent at Floyd Plantation without Jake by your side.

“Whatcha want to be married to me for, anyhow?” You’re sure you must be dreaming. There’s no way he’s asking you that question. When you turn around you’re reminded of the last time you were on this stretch of riverbank when you were ten years old. The last time one of you asked the other this question, you were both struck by lightning.

But this time, you’re sure it’ll be different as you stride forward and cup his face in your cold hands. “So I can kiss you anytime I want.” His smile is fond as you finally kiss your husband. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon and like home. It’s a soft press of lips against lips, filling you with warmth as his arms curl around your waist and yours wrap around the back of his neck.

“Now, Linley,” He’s absolutely growling the words into your ear in a way that never fails to make you weak at the knees. You’d say your panties were wet, but honestly at this point everything is. “Wouldn’t you say it’s about time we had ourselves a nice reunion?”

You’re blushing, giggling and stumbling as Jake leads you up to his truck. But just when you expect him to help you into the cab, he kisses you again. This time the kisses are hot and claiming, each slow press of his lips against your pulse, neck and decolletage sinking into your veins and giving you a buzz like the whiskey your husband is so fond of. A part of your brain can’t comprehend that you’re actually here with Jake, kissing in a cool summer rain. It’s obvious he feels the same way you do, if the reverence in his gaze as he stares down at you is any indication.

“C’mon, baby doll.” He pulls open one of the back doors and helps you in, uncaring at the way your dress smears rainwater over the leather seats. Your teeth chatter a little as your bare skin makes contact with the leather, the sensation unpleasant as you slide away. When Jake slides in after you, carefully pushing the trail of your dress aside and closes the door, you’re finally left in silence. You still faintly hear the pattering of the heavy rain, and when you turn to Jake, he’s still looking at you with that same disbelieving look.

“What’s going on in that head?”

You have to ask that question. You fell in love with the thoughtful pout on his lips over a decade ago, and that expression makes you feel even more in love than you were moments earlier. You ruck the dress up and clamber carefully into his lap. His expression doesn’t change until you drag your fingers through the wet strands of his hair.

“I’m thinking, sweetheart, that I must be dreaming. There’s no way this is real.” His voice is hushed as he trails his fingertips down your cheek.

“This isn’t a dream, Jake. This is real life.” You peck the corner of his mouth, smiling into the soft kiss. “This is forever, if you’ll have me, that is.”

“Why, Mrs. Seresin.” His big hands slide under the hem of your dress, cupping your ass as he draws you closer. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were out to seduce me.”

“Maybe I am, Cowboy.” There’s an unrepentant grin on your lips as you move your hips against the bulge in his jeans. “What are you going to do about it?”

“This.” You barely have the chance to catch your breath before Jake drags you into a kiss which steals all thought from your mind. His mouth trails hot across your pulse point, and with one yank, you’re spilling out of the strapless wedding gown. Your nipples are hard and your arms and chest are covered in goosebumps as his tongue drags torturously across your skin. You’re moaning in earnest soon, each hot swipe of his tongue making you ache for him as you grind down onto his lap, the button on his jeans rubbing against your clit. He hums in question at each moan that spills out of your mouth and you have to tug on his hair to get him to pull away. The front of your dress gapes forward, pooling around your waist loosely. He must have undone the back when you were otherwise occupied.

“C’mere, Lin.” You fall into his chest, letting his arms wrap securely around you, not caring as he musses up your hair as he kisses you again. This time, you push his sodden jacket off and at least succeed in tugging his shirt off. You hum in pleasure at the feeling of his skin against yours and squeal when he lifts you up enough to free himself from his jeans. “This isn’t how I intended to make love to you again, but that’ll have to wait until we’re back home and not soaking wet.”

You groan as he continues, “Or well, at least when I’m not soaking wet.” You gasp in unison with your husband as you sink onto his length. The edges of his zipper digs into the tender soft skin of your inner thighs and his belt and belt buckle are frigid against your skin, but you don’t mind. Your half-remembered flashes from the night of passion you'd shared don’t hold a candle to the passion burning between you and Jake now. With a gentle smile, he maneuvers you up and down on his length. His rough fingers pluck at your nipples and his mouth is spit slicked as it drips pure filth into your ear. You’re so turned on that you can hear your arousal as you ride your husband. In truth, the more you think about Jake as your husband the more turned on you get.

Your thighs shake with effort as the windows fog in the heat between you, and every time you take Jake to the hilt the slide makes your breath catch. It's frenzied and harsh, Jake's hands digging into your skin as he helps you move, the sounds of slapping skin echoing through the small space. It's fast and rough, but it feels so good that you're sure it won't be long at all before you fall apart for your husband. Already you can feel the pressure of your orgasm gathering in your veins, all of your attention focused on the pleasure on Jake’s face and the white-hot hook under your belly button.

When your thighs nearly give out, Jake takes over, pressing his hips up into yours with quick jagged thrusts. His hands are talented and rough as they massage your clit. It’s too much stimulation for your body. Broken sobs and moans spill from your lips as you fall apart for your husband with a scream, muscles quivering as they tremble through the aftershocks. He roars as your muscles constrict around him and he spills deep into your waiting heat.

“I missed you, Linley Mitchell, so much.” Your muscles feel uncooperative as you kiss Jake again and again, whispering promises into his skin that you're going to keep this time. But you have a reason to keep your promises now, a reason you were too young and stupid to realize you had last time.

“It's Linley Seresin, Jake. It always should have been.” He kisses you again, this time even sweeter. You're still overstimulated and very needy as Jake carefully pulls away, tugs your panties in place, and helps you do up the back of your gown again. When you look at your face in your reflection, you see fever-bright eyes and the broadest, giddiest grin and unsurprisingly your hair is an absolute mess. He reels you in, still shirtless, until your head is nestled below his chin and his arms are wrapped securely around your body. You shiver as the aftershocks of adrenalin from your stand-off with Carole and your panic over needing to win Jake back fade away. But you don’t let yourself fall asleep. Everytime you feel exhaustion setting in, you kiss Jake.

There is a possessive look in Jake's eyes which nearly tumbles the two of you into each other again when a rapping at the window rips you apart, well the tapping and Bryant’s plaintive whines from the front seat. The picture you and Jake make when he finally manages to roll down the window must be something. If it were anyone else on the other side of the window, you’d have presumed that a rich girl had run away with a country boy on the day of her wedding and her daddy and her jilted groom had sent the police after them both. It would be an astute assumption, thinking about how bedraggled you are and how Jake seems to refuse to let you up. You’re also uncomfortably aware of his release dripping out of you and onto the gusset of your satin lingerie with every move you make.

But because it’s Sheriff Garcia, you just smile toothily at him and ask, “What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

“I’m here to bring you in, young lady!” You giggle at Mickey’s tone even as Jake grumbles and presses kisses against the ball of your shoulder.

“What did she do this time, officer?” You nudge him with your elbow, unable to hide your wide smile as he intercepts the motion and pulls you into his arms even more securely.

“Well, the way I hear it, it seems that she ran out on a perfectly good wedding cake.” Mickey’s smiling from ear-to-ear as Jake tugs his shirt on and helps you carefully out of the truck. Mickey’s smile turns into outright laughter at how bedraggled you look as you try to shake out the many, many wet layers of your dress. “Well, Mrs. Seresin, you look like you had some fun with Mr. Seresin tonight.”

Your cheeks are flushed as you smile cheekily back to him. “We’re just making up for lost time, Mickey. I just wish I wasn’t so stupid for seven years.”

“At least you’re not so stupid now.” He grins again, hugging you perfunctorily. “C’mon now, you lovebirds. Allow me to escort you to your wedding reception!”

Jake can’t seem to keeps his hands away from you tonight, and nor do you want him to. There’s music pouring out of the radio, but you’re sure you don’t recognize a single note. All you’re focusing on is Jake sitting there next to you. For the first time in seven years you note how much he’s changed. He’s no longer the boy he once was,which is evident. He’s taller and broader, more finely muscled than the lanky thing he used to be, yet there are small wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and eyes, and he’s more serious overall. His smile when he turns to you is the same as it always has been, and you see the four year old you became friends with overlaid by the ten-year-old who asked you to marry him and the eighteen year old who told you he loved you the night you got married. You’re not sure if you know this Jake Seresin. What’s more heady, more alluring, is the thought that you want to. You want desperately to understand the man who treated you like broken glass and made love to you like you were the most important thing in his life. You have time, and you smile back at his enquiring look, shaking your head as he quirks an eyebrow at you. You’re not going to waste this second chance.

When the truck slows to a halt and you get out, you’re a little surprised to see you’re in front of The Hard Deck.

“Mama probably moved the party here so we didn’t bother old Colonel Floyd anymore than we had to.” Jake wraps an arm around you as he kisses your temple.

“Now hold on, y’all. Let me just pop in and announce you. Properly, this time.” Mickey’s practically vibrating with joy as he strides in through the bar’s swinging doors.

You’re all set to walk into bar, but when you hear Mickey say, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. and Mr. Jake Seresin!”Jake lifts you up into his arms and strides purposefully through the doors. You enter with a flourish in your husband’s arms to laughter and cheers. The Hard Deck is far from the lavish reception Carole had planned for you and Bradley, but well, you hadn’t married Bradley after all. The only people left in the room are those who you love, who understand who you are because they love Pigeon Creek as much as you do. But what makes you laugh the most is the sight of your cannibalized wedding cake. The bride and groom cake toppers have been gently lifted from the towering confection and replaced with the red and blue soldiers from an old Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots set.

“Well, c’mon then,” Multiple voices cry out. “Speech, speech, speech.”

But instead, all they get is Jake kissing your knuckles and proclaiming to the crowd, “Well, I do believe I owe this lady a dance.”

Your smile is wide as Jake leads you out towards the dance floor, Bryant underfoot, with all of your friends and family arrayed out along the floor around you. You stand and stare at Jake a little bit, because you still can’t believe you’re actually here with him.

“Before we dance, because I promised we would.” Jake’s voice is quiet and all of your friends and family hush at the sounds of his voice. “I do believe this…” He reaches under his shirt and pulls out a necklace from inside his pocket. Strung on the softly shining metal are rings, yours and his. “Belongs to you.”

You hold you left hand out proudly, letting your husband put your wedding rings back in their place. You return the favor and place Jake’s back on his hand and smile into the kiss he presses to your lips. When you pull away, it’s to cheers and you wrap your arms around his neck in preparation to dance. You grin when you see Penny at the Jukebox.

“Hey, Penny!” Your voice is light as you request. “Make it a slow one!”

Unsurprisingly, the song she picks on the Jukebox is H-4, and you kiss Jake as the tones of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Sweet Home Alabama ring out across the assembled crowd. That’s how the night goes. You dance until you can’t feel your feet, eat cake until you’re stuffed and smile all night long. At times you think you see Fuzz in the room, but you’re sure that’s just a figment of your imagination. If anyone deserves to eat some cake, that cat does.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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humanpurposes · 1 year

Text

Karma is a God

Chapter 3: Storm’s End

The Dance of the Dragons begins on a lie, and Aemond owes a debt, one Lucerra will see repaid in Fire and Blood // Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond x Lucerra Velaryon (fem!Lucerys)

Warnings for this chapter: mentions of violence

Words: 2800

A/n: Originally posted on AO3, posting to Tumblr before I get back to regular updates. I listened to Ptolemea and Family Tree by Ethel Cain on repeat for this.

Tags: @randomdragonfires @boundlessfantasy

The Stormlands live up to their name. The sky changes as soon as they pass over Massey’s Hook, blanketed with dark and heavy clouds as a harsh wind sets in. It takes Arrax by surprise and he gives a startled yelp, but Lucerra guides him back onto his course, as she always does.

She feels his fear and he feels her anticipation. Neither have been this far from their mothers before, from Rhaenyra and Syrax, and now they are messengers on the eve of war. How abruptly life can change, with the slash of a knife, a matter of words, a final intake of breath.

In the span of a single day she has received news of King Viserys’ death, watched her mother drag a bloodied mess from her body, kneeled before a funeral pyre and sworn an oath to her Queen.

She had seen her grandfather decaying before her very eyes. His demise seemed imminent and yet none of them could have been truly prepared for what came next. Rhaenys’ arrival at Dragonstone, her message of the Hightowers’ treachery and Aegon’s coronation at the Dragon Pit. Now everything is in turmoil. Her mother is keen to resist open conflict but she prepares for war all the same.

She can’t quite believe it, any of it. She has to keep pinching herself, telling herself that it’s all real because she cannot escape this. She is bound to her family and to this conflict. She will do her duty, as a Velaryon– as a Targaryen.

Storm’s End fades into view. A single drum tower of grey stone reaching to the sky, atop a cliff edge over the sea, sparsely lit by flashes of lighting. Daemon says this place was built to spite the Gods, and mother says the Baratheons are a proud house, descended from the Storm Kings and the blood of Old Valyria. And she is to reason with their Lord, a task which seems increasingly daunting the closer she gets to the castle.

Arrax settles in the courtyard and a company of guards stand to greet her. They seem unusually indifferent to the presence of a dragon. She soon learns why.

A tremendous growl rumbles over the battlements and hums through her body. She’s only heard it once before, on the night of Laena Velaryon’s funeral. She turns to see the head of Vhagar looming over the great stone walls.

Aemond is here.

She must find her strength. She is the daughter of the Queen, a Princess of the sky and the sea and the blood of the dragon. She is also alone.

After a final soothing stroke over Arrax’s neck, the guards escort her through the doors.

She spots his head of silver hair immediately, shining eerily through the dull light of the Round Hall. A young woman stands beside him, standing with her hands clasped at her front, her eyes flittering nervously between the Prince and Borros Baratheon himself, sat on the stone throne of his ancestors.

Aemond turns to face her, a black coat swaying around his legs and a longsword hanging from his hip. She tries not to let her gaze linger but the same cannot be said of him. He’s bolder than he was in King’s Landing, when he looks at her now he is assured and unashamed. There’s that same hunger in his eye, the same restrained smirk on his lips, watching her every move. She feels awfully like an unsuspecting animal caught in a trap.

Shivers slip down her spine and she clenches her jaw to stop it from chattering. Even through her riding leathers and the red cloak shrouding her shoulders she can feel the piercing cold of the wind seeping into her bones. Aemond will think she is afraid. Perhaps she is.

She has no one to stand behind. No Daemon to make him cower. No Viserys to bark him into obedience. No Jace to steady her nerves. She reaches a gloved hand around the hilt of her own sword, a delicate blade of Valyrian steel, gifted to her by her step-father to match a pair belonging to Baela and Rhaena.

Aemond smirks at the suggestion.

She thinks of her mother, standing over the painted table, before the Lords of her council. With her father’s crown on her head and grief so fresh in her heart, Rhaenyra had spoken with all the demand and reverence befitting her birthright. Her mother was born to be a Queen, and the same blood flows in her veins.

“Lord Borros,” Lucerra says, with her shoulders strong and her head held high, “I bring a message from my mother, the Queen.”

She does not receive the welcome her mother promised her. A Maester whispers into the Lord’s ear and his displeasure twists his face into a frown.

“Remind me of my father’s oath?”

Defeat already weighs down on her chest and her eyes begin to sting. Child. She blinks it away.

“King Aegon at least came with an offer, my swords and banners for a marriage pact.”

Her heart sinks and she can’t think why. Aemond meets her gaze when she darts her eyes to him. There’s something unsettling about the curl of his mouth, the way his eye softens and his head tilts down. He’s practically glowing with pride and malice.

She can still feel the echo of his breath on her neck and his fingertips teasing over her skin. She had thought of him on the voyage back to Dragonstone, as they returned to the castle, as she lay awake in her bed waiting for dawn to appear. His hands, his lips, his threats, his insults of “ bastard ” and “ whore ”. The smell of smoke and leather. She cannot tear the memory from her mind.

By his amused expression she worries he might be able to hear her thoughts.

“If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed, girl?” Lord Borros’ jest is scathing. Her mission has been in vain, and Aemond is here to witness her failure.

“My Lord, my brother Jacaerys is already betrothed, and I fear my other brothers are far too young to be considered for such a negotiation.”

“So you come with empty hands?”

Fury rises from her gut but she refuses to let it out. It settles and simmers in her chest. “My Lord, you have made your intentions clear. If I had something to offer you, I do not believe you would be inclined to accept.”

The man chuckles coldly. “Go home Princess, and tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog she can whistle up at need to set against her foes!”

No matter, she thinks, my mother has no need for an ally who lacks both honour and sense. But she opts for a slightly more courteous response. “I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord.”

She turns without looking back to Aemond and begins to walk towards the doors. The strikes of lighting and rumbles of thunder have become more frequent and she hears rain beating against the windows and stone walls. Arrax silently calls for her, longing to return home.

“Wait…”

His voice sends a rush of cold over her skin. She should keep walking. Nothing good can come from this. And yet in an instant she turns to face him, eyes wide and perhaps even hopeful.

“... My sweet Lady Strong.”

She feels the corner of her lip twitch into a slight sneer, but she keeps her composure.

Aemond keeps his hands tight behind his back as he takes a small step forwards. “Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

Cost. The throne is not Aegon’s, she has no crime to answer for on that account. As for the other… she wonders if he would be as terrifying without the eyepatch.

“I am here merely as a messenger,” she says, calmly, so her voice doesn’t falter. “I did not come to trade words with you. I did not come to fight you.”

He smiles, like he’s about to enjoy himself. “A fight would be little challenge. No–” the same hand that he had clasped over her mouth not two days ago reaches up to pull his eyepatch over his head– “I want you to put out your eye, as payment for mine.”

She isn’t sure what she was expecting, perhaps his eyelids sewn shut or simply a gaping hole in place of what he lost. She had not expected to see a gleam of blue and the rough edges of a gemstone, a sapphire, set in the socket and framed by the twisted, red remains of his flesh. It’s vacant and grotesque… and it catches the light beautifully.

“One will serve,” he says, pulling back his coat to unsheath a knife. He tosses it towards her and it lands between them, with a harrowing clatter of steel against stone. “I would not blind you.”

Her eyes fall to the knife. She tells herself this must be a jest. A sick joke meant to scare her. Just as he had done in the empty chamber in the Red Keep. But then, Aemond has never been one for humour, not when they were children at least.

Lightning flashes through the hall and the sapphire glints at her. “Do this, dōna ilībōños, and I will consider your debt fulfilled.”

Sweet bastard.

She doesn’t feel cold anymore. She doesn’t feel fear. She feels distant, like she’s existing in a dream. She can’t withhold the laugh that hums in her throat. “No.”

The amusement in his eye vanishes. “Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

That’s when she realises she will not leave this encounter unscathed.

His taunting composure is gone with a crack of thunder and another flash of lightning. He rushes forwards to take up the knife. “GIVE ME YOUR EYE OR I WILL TAKE IT, BASTARD!”

The sword on her hip is forgotten and she��s already moving to meet him. “SO TAKE IT!” She screams. She drops slightly, fingers outstretched and so close to grabbing the hilt–

Suddenly her body lurches forward, dragged by her collar and brought to her feet. She looks past the knife hovering before her eye. All she sees is his face, jaw clenched, lips writhing in fury, his single eye wide and dangerous.

She shudders as his breath brushes over her skin. “My blood is precious, uncle, if you want it you shall have to earn it.”

Aemond’s lips press together into a snarl. “Mittītsos,” he hisses. Little fool.

Somewhere in the distance, Lord Borros protests, but neither of them hear him.

She cannot take her eyes from the sapphire and the scar, slicing from his forehead, cutting through his brow and ending between his cheek and his jaw.

She remembers standing in the Hall of Nine, the weight of an arm over her shoulders as she peered from behind her mother’s skirts. While Viserys demanded answers, Rhaenyra demanded justice and Alicent demanded retribution, Lucerra watched him. The stitches in his gash had barely been sewn, blood and whatever else weeping from the wound, and he glared, at his father, at his half-sister, and at her.

She reaches for him, placing her hand against his cheek. He jerks his head with an irritated “hmm” but she holds him, keeping his eye on her. She brushes her thumb over the edge of his scar. It’s softer than she expected.

“Is this truly what you want?” She whispers.

“I need…” For a moment she recognises him, the solemn little boy he once was. Until the anger starts to creep back in. He inches closer into her and his voice is like ice. “I need you to feel it.”

Hot tears swell in her eyes. Six years and not a day has gone by when she hasn't thought of what she did to him. She regrets following her brother that night. She regrets picking up his knife. She regrets that Aemond ‘one-eye’ is a monster of her own making. But in a way she always knew she couldn’t hide from him forever.

Her mother says Targaryens find power in their dragons, but Aemond makes her think that power is found in pain.

She grabs his wrist and drags it down so the blade rests against her cheek, the point scratching at the delicate skin below her eye. She braces herself for the pain she knows is soon to come. Her slash was one of desperation, and as she looks up to the domed ceiling of the Round Halls, she can only hope that Aemond will be quick and precise.

“No, look at me.” His hand comes off her collar and snatches her jaw, pulling her face forward enough that the knife nicks at her skin. A small droplet of red pearls at the cut. “Look at what you made me.”

A single tear trails down her cheek and stings as it mingles with her blood, but she frowns with all the defiance she can find. “Will you be satisfied then, once you take my eye? Or will you keep asking for more?”

He shakes his head slightly, as if he’s surprised at the suggestion. “I only want what I am owed.”

Her heart is in her throat. “And so far I have only done what you have asked of me.”

He draws his thumb over her cheek, over her tears and her blood.

The hold on her jaw loosens. Aemond takes the blade from her cheek and twirls it between his fingers, placing it back on his belt.

She stares at him, utterly bewildered.

Lord Borros’ voice booms through the hall. “Take Princess Lucerra back to her dragon!”

A pair of hands grip her shoulders, but she shoves them off before the two guards can drag her back to the door.

She looks back to Aemond. “Kirine iksan, qȳbos, daoruni rȳ lōtūljan.”

I am thankful, uncle, that you never see anything through.

With that she hurries into the storm and the onslaught of rain.

Arrax is nervous. She strokes his scales and presses her forehead against him. “I’m here,” she utters, “I’m here, jorrāelagon.” She swallows the urge to cry. They cannot linger here. She can lament when she’s back at Dragonstone.

Once they are in the air she fears they may not make the journey. Arrax is struggling, and she can hardly see with the wind and rain beating against her face. She tries to look down, perhaps they might find somewhere on the shore of Shipbreaker Bay, but she can’t see through the clouds, all she sees is grey.

That’s when she hears a formidable growl, as present and ominous as the clasps of thunder. She looks behind her and sees darkness against the clouds. It is too large to make out the shape, then it is gone.

The threat of a knife is one thing. The threat of a dragon, a beast of the conquest, is lunacy.

Her hands tighten on the reins as she urges Arrax up. If they can escape the storm they might have a chance of outrunning Vhagar.

Something breaks through the clouds before them and she realises it is a mouth, one large enough to swallow a ship, let alone her young dragon. Arrax steers out of the way and as Vhagar passes over them, she hears Aemond’s gleeful cackle.

This is a game to him, her very life a plaything for him to use and torment. Perhaps she should have taken out her eye after all.

Arrax’s size makes him elusive, but the weather works against him. They lose them for a short time, when Arrax flies through a canyon near the surface of the sea, and Vhagar’s size will not allow her to follow them.

Lucerra looks around frantically for their bearings, but she cannot make out anything past Arrax’s head. She cannot tell which way is North, which way will lead them to Dragonstone and which way will lead them back to Vhagar.

Suddenly Arrax swerves, circling back around as Vhagar’s shadow comes into view.

“Daor, Arrax!” She screeches, but she cannot stop the burst of flame that erupts from his jaws. She directs them further up as Vhagar’s enraged roars sound from behind them, fading with the distance.

They fly up until they break through the clouds and find daylight. It’s peaceful above the storm, nothing but the wind and her heart drumming in her ears.

She feels no peace. They cannot have escaped this yet.

When she sees an open mouth surging towards her, she does the only thing she can think to do. She jumps. Or rather she falls, looking up at what is left of her dragon once Vhagar has torn him to shreds.

She falls and falls, through the clouds and back into the storm.

#COMPLETELY FORGOT TO ADD TAGS WTF #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x original female character #aemond x fem!lucerys #aemond x oc #aemond x ofc #aemond x reader #fem!lucerys #hotd #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #my fics #karma is a god

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aylacavebear · 3 months

Text

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 18

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 1502

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 18

After Sam and Maria left the kitchen for that tour, Dean went to the library with the dragon following. He had found it completely weird that images were coming to his mind, and he knew they were coming from Bubbles, convinced that was her name.

“So, how come she can’t see your thoughts,” Dean asked the dragon when he sat down at one of the library tables, the dragon in front of him.

The dragon tilted its head like it was contemplating how to answer him. The word “stubborn” reverberated softly in his mind, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, she seems pretty stubborn. How do you plan on convincing her to talk to me if she can’t hear your thoughts?” he asked somewhat curiously.

Again, the dragon seemed to be thinking. Then Dean could have sworn it shrugged its shoulders.

“Well, you’re no help,” he laughed and then swore the dragon glared at him a little, making him chuckle again. Dean reached out and rubbed the dragon's chin, and it made that purring sound, “This might be easier if she actually believed,” he sighed.

Something Dean had given up on a long time ago was a relationship. His job, hunting monsters, kept him from getting close to anyone, especially after what had happened with Lisa. Even with his thoughts wandering now, the dragon just watched him. The last thing Dean ever wanted was for someone else to get hurt, or worse because a monster was using them as leverage to get to him.

Well, at least she’d agreed to drinks and conversation, which Sam was thankful for. He hoped it would help ease the tension he could tell had been building since he’d said she was just a case. She looked almost nervous when he brought her a beer, trying not to chuckle when she immediately took a drink of it.

Dean’s attention kept going from the dragon to her as the dragon kept showing him the image of two people talking. It took everything in him not to chuckle, but he couldn’t keep the smile from playing along his lips. When Sam set the whiskey and glass down for him, he poured himself a double. It was called liquid courage for a reason, and he was gonna need it. Being nervous around a woman was something he’d never struggled with before, but she was different. “So, uh, what did you want to talk about,” she asked, somewhat quietly, not looking directly at either of them.

The little dragon walked over to where she was sitting and climbed into her lap. She set her hand on its back, over its wings, as it curled up comfortably. Sam had been debating how to start this since before he’d ever brought it up to her.

“Well, we’ll have to make a supply run in the next couple of days. What kinds of things do you like to eat?” Sam asked her, finding a simple and safe topic to start off with.

“Oh. Umm,” she began, then paused, sipping her beer for a few moments, “I like most meats, potatoes, cereal, some fruits.”

Sam chuckled, “Tell you what, we’ll make a list, and you can add what you’d like to it, or you could just go with us. Alright, what kinds of things do you like to do?”

“I like to bake and read stuff on Tumblr,” she replied, and it almost seemed like she was embarrassed at that.

Dean raised an eyebrow. She’d said the magic word, bake, “What kind of stuff can you bake?” He felt his breath hitch in his lungs again when she looked up at him with those deep, dark blue eyes of hers.

“All kinds of stuff. Following a recipe is easy,” she replied casually.

“Come on, Sweetheart, you gotta give me something more specific than that,” he chuckled, his curiosity getting the better of him. He really wanted to know what she could bake.

She furrowed her brow a bit, “Breads, cookies, cakes, pies, and everything in between.” “You had me at pie,” he smirked, sipping his drink.

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, “What’s your favorite?”

“Apple, but I like all kinds of pie. Cherry is a close second,” he answered, still smirking happily. She was sweet, kind, beautiful, and she could bake. If it weren’t for the pull he already felt for her, he would be feeling one now.

She looked over at Sam, “Maybe we could add the ingredients to the list so I could bake,” she suggested, still seeming a little nervous.

“I don’t see why not,” Sam replied, giving her a friendly smile. He was grateful she was at least talking, and Dean was getting involved. Although, so far, she wasn’t really asking much about them, at least she seemed to be trying.

“Are you two gonna keep the sigils on?” she asked quietly, looking more at her beer than at either of them.

The brothers exchanged a look, having a silent conversation, which they did often. It was something neither of them had discussed, and they weren’t entirely sure how her powers would affect them. “We hadn’t talked about it,” Sam replied and sighed, “We just don’t know the full extent of how your powers will affect us. We’ve been hunters a long time and were just doing it as a precaution. It’s nothing against you,” he tried to reassure her.

“Well, uh, mine is mostly gone anyway,” Dean said, fidgeting a little, as he hadn’t said a thing to his brother about it, “Pretty sure it’s useless right now.” Then he finished his drink and poured himself another.

“Dean,” Sam said quietly, although frustratedly, giving him a look to match. Dean just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, then leaned back in his chair, drink in hand. He glanced over at her just in time to see her smile a little.

“I’ve never hurt anyone, just being around them,” she said quietly, then finished her beer.

Sam got up, grabbed a six-pack out of the fridge, then returned to the library, setting it on the table so he and Maria could both reach it when they needed another. He was slightly frustrated with his brother, but at the same time, if his suspicions were correct, the sigil was pointless for Dean.

“We get that. We just had to take precautions. Like I said, it’s nothing against you,” Sam again tried to reassure her.

“So, uh… what do you guys do when you aren’t hunting?” she asked quietly again, getting herself another beer.

“Well, we watch movies, play phone games sometimes, listen to music,” Dean answered, still with that happy, stupid smile on his face that he couldn’t get rid of, even if he’d wanted to. She was kind of adorable when she was being shy.

“Some of us read too,” Sam added, side glaring slightly at his brother.

She chuckled quietly, “I like to do those things too.”

To the brothers, she still sounded nervous, “What kinds of things do you like to read?” Sam asked.

They both noticed how she bit her bottom lip nervously, not really looking at either of them. “Mostly fanfics on Tumblr. But I like sci-fi stuff,” she replied, still in that quiet, nervous tone.

“Why do you seem so nervous?” Sam finally decided just to ask her.

She sighed, taking another sip of her beer. “Most people just think I’m weird with the stuff I like, so I don’t usually tell anyone,” she answered quietly.

Both brothers chuckled, “You don’t have to worry about that. We’re not most people. Our lives are like a sci-fi novel or movie,” Sam told her, stifling another chuckle.

“Or like Halloween, every day of the year,” Dean added, pouring himself another drink.

She looked up at the two of them, and all Dean wanted to do was go hold her. She looked so sad to him, causing his smile to fade. Now, all he had to do was figure out what he could possibly say to get her to smile again.

“Weird is kind of our thing. It would be weird if our lives were normal,” Sam told her softly.

“So, you don’t think I’m weird?” she asked, sounding slightly nervous.

“Not really. Not in a bad way anyway,” Dean told her, trying to think of something smooth to say. His mind kept going blank. “You seem like our kind of weird.” Then he wanted to kick himself for saying that, at least until he heard her giggle.

“I don’t think anyone’s told me that before,” she giggled quietly again.

Sam saw the huge smile that Dean got, it went from ear to ear, “Honestly, Maria, just be yourself. Most people would probably find us weird.”

She smiled a little, “I think everyone should be at least a little weird. Normal can be boring,” she stated, finally finding a regular tone and not being as quiet as she had been. However, she was now on her third beer.

That got both brothers laughing. At least she seemed to start opening up. Either that, or she was getting buzzed, helping to lower her inhibitions.

An hour later, she’d had five beers total. The room had been filled with laughter, and now, she and Dean were arguing with Sam.

“Bacon is a meal, and there’s no way you can convince me that it isn’t,” she said with stubborn confidence.

“God, you and Dean both need a new diet. That much grease isn’t good for you,” Sam tried to argue back, making them both laugh again.

“Death by bacon. I can live with that,” Dean mused, sipping another glass of whiskey.

Sam couldn’t believe the statement that had just come out of his brother’s mouth, “You do realize that is an oxymoron, right?” “Whatever it is, I can live with it,” Dean stated, causing Maria to laugh again. It was like music to him, and he never wanted it to end. Then there was her smile, which could brighten any room.

“So, what’s the weirdest case you two have had to go on?” she asked, still laughing some at the bacon argument.

“Uh, that’s a tough one,” Dean replied, leaning back in his chair again, thinking back over all the cases they’d had over the years.

“We’ve had several weird ones,” Sam chuckled, thinking back.

“Well, what was the weirdest?” she asked again, seeming utterly curious.

“There was that time we were cartoons,” Sam mused, as that had been really weird for him.

“Wait, you were a cartoon?” she asked, seeming surprised and even more curious.

Dean chuckled, “Yeah. It was a ghost that was haunting a TV. I got for the Dean Cave. The ghost pulled us into an episode of Scooby Doo. Velma kissed Sam.”

She laughed at the story. When she caught her breath, though, she looked at Sam, trying to stop the continued giggles, “So, how was it getting kissed by a cartoon?”

He was still slightly embarrassed over that ordeal, “It was… kinda weird.”

“What do you mean by weird? Like, how the kiss felt or just the fact that you were a cartoon?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

Sam chuckled, “Kissing a fictional character that is a cartoon.”

“What about you, Dean? Did you get to kiss Dapne?” she asked, turning to him and raising an eyebrow.

If only she knew how incredibly adorable he found her, “No. She’s got a thing for Fred,” he chuckled.

Then, out of the blue, Sam put his hand on the side of his head, a look of realization crossing it, “I know why Crowly wants her, before her powers awaken.”

Great way to ruin the mood, Dean thought to himself, but he was also now curious, “Well, spit it out already.”

“Rowena’s his mother. She could perform the spell, to awaken her powers, leaving Maria indebted to the both of them,” Sam told them, finally having put the pieces together.

Maria grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table and drank at least two shots worth, “Wonderful,” she grumbled, setting the bottle back where she’d gotten it from.

“That explains what Crowley told her, about when she changed her mind,” Dean sighed. At this point, he was just hoping that they could keep her safe. If she believed in soulmates or was even open to it, things could go differently, and Dean knew that.

The one thing the brothers could tell about her was that she wasn’t the kind of person to not find a way to pay back a favor or act of kindness. The mood of the evening quickly shifted. Both brothers noticed how she seemed to get uncomfortable with the revelation.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” she said fairly sullenly.

“I’m sorry Maria. It just came to me, and I blurted it out without thinking,” Sam apologized as she stood up, carefully picking up the sleeping dragon.

“It’s okay. I should get some sleep anyway,” she replied, although she sounded like something else was on her mind.

“Okay. Try to get some sleep,” Dean told her, softer than he realized.

She didn’t look back at them before she left them alone in the library and headed to her room.

“Dude, Seriously?!” Dean turned to Sam and told him, frustrated, “That could have waited till later.”

“I said I was sorry. It’s not like I was purposefully trying to upset her. Although, it’s kinda cute how you’re smitten with her,” Sam replied, teasing his brother a little. He really couldn’t resist.

“Jerk,” Dean mumbled, finishing his drink.

“Bitch,” Sam chuckled.

“Back to the Rowena/Crowley thing. He can’t get in here, but she can. Now what are we supposed to do?” Dean said, trying to figure out how they would get around this one.

Sam leaned back in his chair, beer in hand, “There’s not much we can do about that,” he sighed.

The problem with witches is that they were human, so a lot of things wouldn’t repel them or keep them from entering a home, like salt to ward against demons or ghosts. Rowena was also the most powerful witch alive, being over three hundred years old. They didn’t know all of what she could do, but they wouldn’t put anything past her abilities. She had removed the Mark of Cain from Dean, after all. On top of that, she knew where the bunker was, having been there several times to help with certain things when it was in her best interest.

“I might be able to find a protection spell, though,” Sam finally said, breaking the silence and getting on his laptop.

Sam had learned a few tricks from his interactions with Ruby many years ago. Then there were all the books in the bunker, several of which were spell books. The Men of Letters believed in using magic. It was a means to an end.

“Okay, just, don’t forget about us. The last thing I want is to piss that woman off too badly. She’s got a temper,” Dean told him.

So Dean drank while Sam poured through his laptop and books for the next several hours, far into the night. Maria never came back out of her room, and Dean hoped that she was sleeping and not sitting awake and alone.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 19

Tag List: @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

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