#matching set chapter thirteen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevie-petey · 4 months

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episode two: trick or treat, freak

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?” Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,” “It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.” “I…” You can’t. Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

Summary: you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight sexual harassment (billy corners reader and is gross), cursing, alcohol

Words: 7.9k

Before you swing in: hello ! new chapter, we've arrived at halloween !! i finally get to have a fun authors note comment: i crashed my car lol. i'm fine tho and i hope yall enjoy and like what ive done and changed a bit with this episode. i had fun coming up with costume ideas for the reader, i think the character fits her well :) and before i go: i start school next week, so updates will def be coming a bit slower after this. anyways, happy reading !

The Henderson house is pure chaos morning of Halloween.

Dustin is running around the house, screaming about how his costume has to be absolutely perfect and that if you don’t hurry up with the jack-o-lantern pancakes then he’s going to just leave without eating breakfast. Meanwhile your mother is running after him, straightening his suit and tidying his hair.

“The pancakes are almost done, my god.” You flip the last pancake, but in your rush the jack-o-lantern’s smile turns into more of a grimace, but hey, food is food. You quickly set Dustin’s plate down on the table and practically shove him into the seat.

“Eat.”

“But my proton blaster–”

“Is on the steps, I’ll grab it. Eat, I want pictures with you.” You kiss the top of your brother’s head and then run over to grab his costume’s prop.

“I’m thirteen now, I don’t need my sister doting on me–” Dustin complains, but then his eyes land on the mini Reese’s Pieces you’ve decorated his pancakes with and quickly changes his tone. “Oh! Candies! Yummy!”

You laugh at him and bring his backpack over. The Ghostbusters matching costume idea that boys have planned for today makes you want to just sweep them all into your arms and kiss their tiny little faces. They may be getting older with crushes and angsty feelings, but they’re still the same nerdy little boys you met when you were twelve.

Dustin wolfs down his pancakes and your mom prepares her camera. You woke up earlier than usual this morning specifically so that you could make Dustin’s annual Halloween pancakes and then take pictures of him with his costume on. As soon as he’s done eating, you and your mom whisk him towards the fireplace for pictures.

“Oh, I want to see those pearls!” Your mother squeals as she takes a million pictures of Dustin. When he smiles, she loses her mind. “Yeah! Lovely, I love it!”

You’re just as ecstatic as your mom. “Who you gonna call Dustin?”

“Ghostbusters!” He sings along, holding up his proton blaster with an even wider smile on his face.

It’s a happy morning.

Dustin puts on a show as he poses for your mom, and you even join in for some. Sure, you aren’t in costume, but who knows how many more mornings like these you have left? Dustin is getting older, all the boys are, so you plan on cherishing these mornings for as long as possible.

You and Dustin are giggling as you now stand back to back, him holding his blaster and you holding up finger guns, and your mom is taking multiple final pictures when Jonathan arrives. He knocks on the door before letting himself in. When he sees you and Dustin posing, he starts loudly belting the Ghostbusters song.

“God, bee. At least let my coffee kick in before you subject me to your horrible singing.” You playfully groan, grabbing your own backpack and pancakes to eat on the road.

Jonathan ignores your teasing and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Nice costume, bud.”

Dustin, seemingly still holding a grudge against the guy after your conversation from last night, slaps his hand away and glares at him. “Don’t mess up the hair.”

Your brother proceeds to stare Jonathan down, gives him an “I’m watching you” gesture, and then walks out the front door without any further words. You, Jonathan, and your mom all stand in the living room in varying states of emotions. You’re trying not to laugh at your brother’s antics, your mom is happily looking at the photos she took, and Jonathan is standing there in complete confusion.

“What was that about?” He asks you, slightly hurt by Dustin’s rebuff.

“Shhh,” you hand him a plate of pancakes and then walk towards the front door. “Let’s get to school, bee.”

–

At school, the mullet guy from yesterday finds you at your locker as soon as Jonathan has walked away. The two of you had been running behind schedule, so you’d told Jonathan to head to first period so at least he’d be on time while you tried to find your history textbook.

As you’re digging through your locker, the mullet guy stalks up behind you.

“I never got your name,” he says with a breathy voice, standing way too close behind you.

You straighten your back, but don’t turn around. You know that if you do, the guy will only get a kick out of having your face close to his. “You never asked.”

“So there’s some sass to you underneath all that sweetness.” His breath hits the back of your neck and you shiver, but in a way that makes you feel dirty and unclean.

“What do you want?” You ask the guy, your fingers wrapping around the textbook that you’ve finally found. If needed, you’re sure it’ll make a handy weapon. It’s only you and the guy in the hallway. Everyone else has holed up in class and you’re now regretting sending Jonathan away. You feel trapped, vulnerable, and you hate it.

Mullet man chuckles deeply, his voice reverberating against your back. “Nothing yet. Just thought I’d introduce myself to such a pretty face.”

You don’t say anything, your fingers only tighten around your textbook. If he gets any closer, you’ll swing.

Though you can’t see him, you can feel his eyes flicker to your textbook and he lets out another cruel laugh. “Loosen up, sweetheart, I won’t hurt ya.” You don’t move, and he seems to get another kick out of this. “My name is Billy. Remember that for me, alright?”

Finally Billy steps away from you and you slowly release all the tension that’s built up within you. You still don’t turn around, he hasn’t left yet, but your hands are shaking a bit and you feel unsteady.

“Would you do me a favor, Billy?” Your voice is steady, there’s no trace of the fear within you.

“I’m listening,” Billy is practically purring and you want to gag at how much his cockiness oozes around you.

You turn, now finally facing him, and slam your textbook against Billy’s chest. “Learn some fucking personal space.”

Billy’s only reaction is a smile, which only makes you more uncomfortable, but you refuse to show him this. Instead, you square your shoulders and walk towards your first class. You’ve dealt with assholes in the past; you’ve known Steve Harrington since you were twelve. But Billy is different.

You’re not sure if you want to find out just how different he is from Steve.

–

Another small highlight of your school year so far has been your study sessions in the library with Nancy resuming. The two of you had drifted apart this summer, you just rarely ever saw the girl in between your hectic work schedule and her dates with Steve, but from the first day of junior she’s helped you with your math equations and you’ve helped her with her english essays.

It’s a good trade off and you’ve enjoyed spending time with the girl. Unlike last year, Jonathan doesn’t join anymore. He can’t be too close with her now that she’s back with Steve. So, it’s just you and her for an hour every day during study hall. It’s nice, if you’re being honest.

Today though there’s something off with Nancy.

She’s been tapping her pencil on the table for the last few minutes. Right before you can politely ask her to stop, the tip of the pencil snaps in half. She sighs. “Shit,”

“There’s a sharpener over by the window,” you point towards the general direction. “Sharpen your pencil before these equations officially end my life.”

Nancy laughs, excusing herself and walks over to the sharpener.

You focus back on your homework, the equations swimming around in your brain. It’s not that you’re necessarily bad at math, but you’re no whiz at it either. You get lost in the practice problems, erasing and re-erasing frequently, and you don’t realize just how long Nancy has been gone until she returns. She sits down, and you’re about to make a horrible joke about how stupid it is to find x, when you notice how shaken Nancy looks.

“Woah, hey.” You set your pencil down and turn your attention to Nancy. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

Nancy looks towards one of the library’s private study rooms and you see Steve’s retreating figure. You gather that something’s happened between them, but it confuses you because they’ve been nothing but lovey dovey ever since they got back together. What could possibly cause strife between them?

“C’mon, you can talk to me. I’m known for my fantastic advice.” You probe again, and this time Nancy lets out a soft chuckle.

“It’s… complicated.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ve been stuck on question five for like, twenty minutes now. Any distractions are welcomed.”

Now Nancy lets out a genuine laugh and you find yourself laughing as well. The storminess behind her eyes from earlier has lessened, she looks more relaxed now. Once she’s done laughing, she takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. “Steve and I have been having dinner with Barb’s parents.”

When Barb’s name leaves Nancy’s lips, you feel your stomach twist with guilt. Had you known this would be about Barb, you wouldn’t have pestered Nancy so much into speaking. You know how much she misses her best friend still, no one blames her.

“Well that sounds nice,” you try to comfort. “I’m sure they appreciate your company.”

Nancy bites her lip and looks away from you. “They wouldn’t if they knew Steve and I killed Barb.”

Shock washes over you. “Can I ask for some context?”

“Steve and I… When I forced Barb to come to his stupid party with me, we–we left her alone that night. By the pool…” Nancy’s voice cracks, and you grab her hand to encourage her to keep going. “We went upstairs to have sex, and Barb–she didn’t want me to leave her alone but I–I did and–”

You remember the photos Jonathan took last year, specifically the one where Barb had been sitting all by herself along the pool’s edge. Behind her had been a shadowy figure, a monster you soon would learn was from an alternate dimension with an intent to kill.

“You think Barb died because you left her alone to go have sex with Steve.” You finish for Nancy, her tears rendering her unable to say more.

She nods, looking away again as more tears stream down her face. You feel horrible for her, knowing first hand just how cruelly guilt can eat away at someone. Jonathan doesn’t know this, but you still think you’re the reason Will disappeared last year. You were the one who left him alone that night. If you had been there, if you had dropped him off at the Byers’ doorstep, you’re sure that he would’ve never ended up facing the horrors that he did.

As for Nancy, you understand everything she’s feeling and more. It isn’t fair how one simple choice, one moment of selfishness, can lead to such tragedy and pain.

Cautiously, you ask Nancy a question. “Does Steve know about the guilt you feel?”

“He knows, but he doesn’t understand.” Nancy’s voice laces with grief and bitterness. “He found me by the pencil sharpener. There was this girl, she looked so much like Barb and I just… I zoned out. I was stuck there, thinking about her, when he found me.”

“Did he notice you were upset?”

“Of course he noticed. He’s Steve, I could shed a single tear and he’d be all over me like I’m some baby.” Nancy scoffs, which makes you frown. You’re not sure what’s so wrong with that, having someone so attuned to your emotions because they love you that deeply.

You push aside your thoughts, however. “What happened, then?”

“We went into a study room and I snapped.” Nancy’s close to tears again. “I just… I want to tell Barb’s parents what really happened. They’re selling their house, Y/N. They’re selling their own home to afford this private detective who promised them he’d find out what happened to her. What–what kind of person would I be if I let my best friend’s parents go bankrupt for being worried about their only child?”

“Nancy…”

“And Steve, he just… He told me it was a bad idea, that–that our families could get hurt and all that bullshit, but what am I supposed to do? I’m trying to figure something out, to fix this, and Steve just wants to go to some stupid party and pretend everything is okay?” Nancy is almost shouting now, and you nervously look around to make sure you're not disturbing anyone. It’s still a library, after all.

Nancy takes a few seconds to collect herself, to steady her breathing and control her anger. You let her take all the time she needs, and when she seems calm enough, you speak. “I understand where you’re coming from and why you’re upset. What happened to Barb is despicable, but… Well, I also agree with Steve.”

“Y/N–”

“No, okay. Listen for a second,” you pause, trying to figure out exactly how to say what you’re thinking. “I think Steve means well, he doesn’t have a malicious bone in that silly body. The Halloween party can be a good thing for you if you let it, a way to destress. You have to move on, you have to allow yourself to move on.”

Nancy tries to argue some more but you continue. “I understand your guilt better than anyone else, I was the one who lost Will that night. But we all signed those contracts, Nancy. If we told anyone what really happened to Barb… It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who gets hurt, all our family members, because we broke a legal oath. You understand that, right?”

“I understand, but it’s not fucking fair.” Nancy’s eyes have a determination in them that startles you. You’ve always known that she was fierce, but seeing the edge in her eyes almost scares you. She’s angry, more than you’ve ever seen her before.

You sigh. “I know, I wish I could do more, but…”

Nancy nods, understanding that there’s not much else you guys can do. You hate to let her down like this, you know she needs to hear something else, to feel supported, but you don’t know what else to tell her.

Steve’s right in his own way, and so is Nancy.

“Can you at least come to the party tonight?” Nancy softly pleads. “It’s just, I’ll feel more comfortable with you there, like I’m less crazy… I mean, that is if you even want to come and–”

“Of course I’ll come, Nance.” You don’t even hesitate to promise her this, nor do you realize that you’ve just called her “Nance”. It slipped from your tongue naturally, as if solidifying your friendship with the girl. You hate parties and loud crowds, but if Nancy needs you there by her side, to hold her hand and remind her of how brave she is, then you’ll happily do so.

Nancy sinks into her seat, relieved. “Thank you, I owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Nancy throws a piece of paper at you and you dodge it, throwing your pencil at her in retaliation. The two of you break out into a fit of giggles until the librarian eventually snaps at you guys and reminds you to be quiet.

You reluctantly get back to work, and as you’re writing down more complex equations, you notice that there’s still a far off look in Nancy’s eyes. You know that she’s still thinking about Barb, the guilt eating away at her, and you know that the topic is far from settled.

–

Halloween is in full swing the second Jonathan drops you off at home from school. There’s already kids milling around up and down your block in an assortment of costumes, all squealing with joy as they collect their candy.

“Meet you in two hours?” You ask Jonathan as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Yeah, but remember that I’m not wearing a costume.”

“C’mon, bee! It’s Halloween, where’s your holiday spirit?”

Jonathan groans. “Nag at me all you want, I’m not dressing up. I will, however, offer to be your arm candy.”

“That’s the spirit!” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek and run out of the car and straight into your house. You have two hours to wrap up goodie bags for the neighborhood kids and then get dressed in your costume. It’ll be a tight schedule, but luckily you’re off of work tonight.

It takes you about an hour to assort all your gift bags, separating the boys’ bags from the local kids’ bags, and before you know it you’ve successfully hand packaged goodie bags for an entire army. Once you’re done, you run to your room and throw on your costume. The dress slips over your head and settles gently over you.

You stand in front of your mirror and smile.

It’s perfect.

You’re going as Princess Buttercup tonight for Halloween. You read the Princess Bride around the end of summer and quickly fell in love with Buttercup. You’re not sure if you fell in love with the character because you read the book right after pushing Steve away, or because you saw yourself in Buttercup, but you came to adore her.

Buttercup may have been a bit ditzy, but she loved with everything within her, and with such a passion, that you couldn’t help but admire her. It was her love for others that ultimately drove the story further, and you think there’s something beautiful about that.

The red dress fits perfectly around you and you grab the gold chain that will serve as your belt. Once you’ve secured it around yourself, you place Buttercup’s golden circlet around your head. The costume had been pricier than you would’ve preferred, but as you stand in front of the mirror, you truly do feel like a princess.

Your bee necklace, a wonderful gift from Jonathan, catches light from your window and you smile, bringing your fingers up to the pendant. It’s the only jewelry you need.

“Y/N! Are you almost done? Will radioed that they’d be here soon.” Dustin pounds on your door.

You fling the door open. “I’m done, I just need to put on some makeup.”

Your brother makes a face as he walks into your room and plops himself down onto the beanbag. “You own makeup?”

“Yes, dear brother. I’d wear it more often if I had the time, but between herding you around and my school assignments, I can’t.” You dig through your makeup bag, opting for just mascara and a shimmery pearl eyeshadow. You’ll put on your lipstick in the car to save some time.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jonathan, does it?”

You roll your eyes at Dustin. “No, believe it or not I can choose to do things without the influence of others.”

“Hmm, alright. Hurry up though, Mike had this awesome plan to hit up every house with the big candy bars and–”

“Dustin!” You throw a pillow at the boy, shutting him up. “Shush so I can focus.”

He grumbles but remains silent, now watching as you put your makeup on. It’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, so you’re slower than usual. Just as you’re finishing up your mascara, a car honks outside.

Dustin runs out the room and you quickly grab your lipstick and follow after him. You’re wearing your mother’s mary janes again and they pinch your feet as you run, but whatever. You feel pretty tonight, you’re somebody else for now, a princess free from any burdens and stress.

Jonathan is standing outside his car, waiting for you, and when you see him you practically fling yourself in his arms. “You dressed as Westley!”

He spins you around a bit, his plastic sword hitting against his leg. “You wanted me to wear a costume, right?”

You nod, inspecting his costume with glee. He looks amazing, dressed in Westley’s iconic all black attire, his sword by his side, and a mask tied loosely around his neck. To anyone else, Jonathan would look like a regular guy with an affinity for black, but to you, he was dressed as your knight in shining armor.

He’s the Westley to your Princess Buttercup.

Jonathan kisses your knuckles. “Well then, as you wish.”

His words are smooth velvet against your skin, they warm you as the late October air encases you. As you wish, words that became their own I love you within the book. A promise, similar to the one Jonathan made you last year in the passenger seat of his car, pinkies intertwined.

Something stirs within you, seeing Jonathan’s proud smirk on his face because he’s once again managed to surprise you, and the feeling is sickly sweet like syrup. It runs through you slowly, covering every inch of you, and you bask in it.

For now, he’s still yours.

“Can we go now? You guys are gross.” Dustin calls from the car, annoyed.

You and Jonathan spring apart in embarrassment. He laughs, rubs the back of his neck, and tells you, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Why thank you,” you curtsy. “You look rather dashing yourself, good sir.”

“I wasn’t kidding. You look… you’re beautiful.” The sincerity in Jonathan’s voice cuts through you, it cuts through everything between you, and you can only smile.

“Thanks, bee.” You try to keep your voice playful, light and airy as always. “Now, open my door like the brave hero you’re dressed as.”

Jonathan opens your door with a bow, causing you to laugh. You’re sitting in the backseat with Dustin, Will is in the passenger seat, and once you’ve buckled up, Will spins around in his seat to talk to you as Jonathan starts the car.

“Do you think it’s lame that you and Jonathan trick-or-treat with us?

You blink. “What did I miss?”

“I think it’s kinda lame,” Dustin voices next to you, but he lets out a pained squeak after you’ve elbowed his ribs.

Jonathan turns onto the main road and scoffs at the boys. “You think we’re lame?”

“No, but…” Will sinks into his seat, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He’s nervous. “It’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”

Jonathan’s silent, and you catch his eye in the rear view mirror. You know what he’s thinking: Will has been having even more problems in school, he’s sick of being babied, and yet here you guys are, babying him.

You sigh. “Look, Will. We like trick-or-treating with you guys, we don’t go are your babysitters. We go because it’s fun and I get to enjoy free candy as a sixteen year old.”

Will looks out the window and doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said. You sigh again, knowing that nothing will appease him. He’s only allowed you to see a small portion of how much he’s struggled this year, but you can see his foundations crumbling.

How is he expected to adapt if you and everyone around him refuse to let him do so?

You catch Jonathan’s eye again in the rear view mirror and he seems to be thinking the same thing.

Mike and Lucas run out the Wheeler’s house as soon as you guys park in the driveway. Dustin immediately bolts out the door to greet them, obviously uncomfortable with all the tension, leaving you and Jonathan with Will.

Jonathan looks at you one last time and you nod your head in encouragement. He has to do this, he has to let Will grow on his own.

“Hey, listen.” Jonathan says, stopping Will from leaving. “If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”

Will’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.”

“9:30?”

You reach over and pat Will’s back. “Now you’re pushin’ it, buddy.”

“What Y/N said. Be back by 9:00.” Jonathan instructs, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Deal?”

“Deal!”

The brothers shake on it and you watch them with a smile. Jonathan hands Will one of Bob’s cameras and makes a poor Dracula joke and you love these boys so much. You wave goodbye to Will as he quickly gets out of the car and runs over to his friends. There’s a new skip in his step, he’s happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

“Alright,” you crawl over the passenger seat and plop yourself in rather ungracefully. “I’d say that went well.”

“We made the right choice, right?”

“I hope so.”

Jonathan sighs and watches the kids, who have now started hitting each other with their candy bags. You flip down the windscreen and use the small mirror in it to apply your lipstick. When Jonathan sees what you’re doing, he does a double take.

“Wait, are you putting on lipstick?”

“Mhm,” you knit your brows together, focused. “We’re going to a party.”

“We are?”

“Nancy begged me to come, and we just left the boys to go trick-or-treating on their own, so what else are we supposed to do tonight?”

“Nancy begged you to come–”

You finish your lipstick and flick Jonathan’s nose to shut him up. “Stop asking so many questions and just start the car, doofus.”

–

The Halloween party is in full swing by the time you and Jonathan arrive. There’s a bunch of drunk teens in an array of costumes, ranging from classic heroes to dumb movie references, and the music is so loud you could hear it while you were still five blocks away.

Jonathan parks the car and looks around wearily. “Are we really doing this?”

“Unfortunately I hate disappointing people, so yeah. We are.”

“One day your people pleasing needs will get you in trouble.”

“I will stab you with your plastic sword.”

“So sweet to me,” Jonathan quips, which you roll your eyes at.

As you’re walking to the front door, you hear a crowd chanting Billy’s name. You freeze, knowing it could only be that awful mullet guy from earlier, and quickly shove Jonathan inside the house.

“Who’s Billy?” He asks, confused.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, let’s try to find Nancy–”

“Nice costume.” A girl dressed in goth attire interrupts you, her eyes only on Jonathan.

Oh great. Another girl interested in Jonathan.

Jonathan looks between you and the girl. “Huh?”

“Nice costume. Going as a goth with a sword?”

“Actually,” you step in front of Jonathan now, forcing the girl to acknowledge your presence. “We’re matching. He’s Westley, I’m Princess Buttercup. Do you like it?”

The goth girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, totally.” She steps past you and faces Jonathan again. “I’m Samantha.”

Jonathan is again looking between you and the girl, this time with even more fear and confusion on his face, and you almost want to laugh at him in pity. He’s never had a girl so blatantly hit on him, it’s almost hilarious if you ignore the fact that you’re in love with him.

You leave Jonathan to handle the situation himself, scanning the room for Nancy. When you finally spot her, your heart sinks. She’s dancing with Steve, who looks fucking criminally good in his costume. You’re not sure who he’s dressed as, but he puts his Raybans in his mouth and smirks at Nancy and suddenly you understand why so many girls whisper in the halls about his lips.

Nancy looks even better, her white blouse accentuating her beauty even more. She’s dancing with her arms around Steve and now you suddenly really want a drink. Seems like they’ve made up, then.

Right as you’re about to pull Jonathan away from that Samantha girl and call it quits for the night, defeated and pride wounded, you see Steve and Nancy begin to argue over by the punchbowl.

Shit.

You head towards them, shoving past hoards of people who seem to refuse to move. Nancy sees you approaching and only seems to become more upset. Her movement is unsteady, her eyes droopy and glossed over, and even before you walk up to her you know she’s heavily drunk. She’s in a tug of war with Steve and a cup. It’s clear he’s trying to cut off her alcohol intake.

“Hey, Nancy is everything okay–” Your words are cut off as punch splashes all over her white blouse.

Everyone around the couple gasps, and you wince at all the attention. Everyone stares between you, Steve, and Nancy. You quickly find some napkins and begin blotting at her blouse, trying to get as much of the punch out of it, but she drunkenly bats you away.

“Don’t need help,” she slurs, but you shush her.

“I got it, why don’t we go get some water?”

Steve steps in front of you now, aware of the fact that everyone is still staring, and says his first words to you in months. “She’s my girlfriend, I’ll take care of her. Just… just go, Y/N.”

He dismisses you with a wave and you feel hurt wash over you. He hadn’t even spared you a single glance, he just treated you like some annoying fly in his way. You watch, defeated, as Steve guides Nancy to a room and you’re left alone at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place.

How fun.

You crumble up one of the napkins in your hand and will away your anger. You don’t deserve to feel angry at Steve’s actions, you’re the one who was so dismissive of him in the first place. He’s just following along, doing what you’ve forced him to do.

As you’re lost in thought, Billy corners you in the kitchen.

“We meet again, sweetheart.” His breath reeks of alcohol and you cringe, the smell burning your nose.

“Didn’t I tell you to learn some goddamn personal space?”

Billy laughs dryly, stepping forward every time you take a step back. Too late, you realize what he’s doing. Before you can stop it, he has your back pressed against a nearby wall. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You look around, but everyone who had been in the kitchen earlier seems to have left or are far too drunk to realize what’s happening. Billy is peering over you and every part of you wants to run away, to cower. You’ve never been able to handle aggressive men well, no matter how much of a front you put on around Lonnie, you always trembled when he was near.

Billy is no different, and he sees your unease. “Aw, is the princess nervous?”

“I’m surprised Max taught you what a princess looks like.”

At the mention of Max’s name, Billy’s cocky grin slips. Confusion masks his face now, making him appear more human than obnoxiously handsome. “So you know my little sister?”

You try to shove past him, but Billy plants his feet down and places both arms against the wall, trapping you. He’s surrounded you, he wants a reaction out of you. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to steady your heartbeat and appear indifferent.

“I have my ways,” you shrug, but your heartbeat still pounds rapidly.

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Pretty and intelligent. Why, look at you. I’m impressed, and yet I still don’t know your name.”

You try again to move, but Billy leans his head down and brings his lips to your ear to whisper, “I’ll beg for it, if you want me to.”

“Get off–” He’s too close. He’s too fucking close and his lips against your ear makes you want to throw up, you don’t like this and you feel so fucking pathetic being cornered by such an egotistical asshole.

“Tell me your name, and I’ll go.” There’s a smile in Billy’s voice, you can hear it without even having to look, and it enrages you. You fucking hate men like him.

“Just get the fuck off of me–” You’ve closed your eyes now as you shove harshly against his chest.

Suddenly there’s a thud, a loud “oomph”, and a collective gasp from onlookers at the party. Your hands meet the air, there’s now no one there to push against. Slowly, open your eyes. There, standing in front of you, is Steve holding a very angry Jonathan back while Billy is on the ground.

Jonathan yanks his arm free from Steve and stands over Billy, who is laying on the ground with yet another unnerving smile on his face. Your friend shakes his fist out, which you now see is red, Billy’s face showcases a matching mark. “She told you to get off of her.”

A silence falls over the crowd.

Billy slowly stands up, wipes himself off, and then takes a bow. “Not bad, loner boy.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to him, but Steve grabs his shirt and shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, man.”

“And what do you know about worth, Harrington?” Billy chuckles, now practically in Steve’s face. “Where’s that little girlfriend of yours? You should go ask her what she thinks you’re worth.”

Steve’s face hardens, but you can see dried tears in his eyes. Seeing him about to crumble, you step between the boys. “Enough.”

They look at you, but you ignore them and then wave to the crowd of people still watching. “Show’s over! Go back to drinking away your sorry fucking lives.”

Jonathan pulls you close to him. “Bug, are you okay? Did he hurt you? We need to go home, I’ll bake you brownies and we can just–”

Jonathan’s concerned rambling is enough to make you smile, albeit faintly. “I’m fine, bee.”

Billy observes the interaction, he notices how Steve’s eyes flicker between your interlocked hands with Jonathan and the way your hair frames your pretty face. He sees it all, and he understands exactly what’s happening here.

“Oh, Harrington.” Billy can’t wait to see what happens next. “You’re fucked.”

Steve watches as Billy leaves, confused by his words but too tired to think much of them. He’s had the worst fucking night of his life. His girlfriend just told him she doesn’t love him, then he came outside to see Billy pressing himself against you like some fucking creep. He hadn’t even gotten to help you, Jonathan had beaten him to it. All Steve could do was hold the guy back afterwards.

Now Jonathan is holding your hands and whispering comforting words to you and you’re dressed in Steve’s favorite color, your lips an even prettier red, you’re wearing a goddamn tiara on your head like the princess you truly are, and Steve’s had just about enough of tonight.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Steve tells you tiredly. He then turns to Jonathan. “Uh, Nance and I sorta… Can you just, give her a ride home? She doesn’t…”

Steve’s words catch in his throat and you grab his hand before you can stop yourself. “He’ll take her, won’t you, Jonathan?”

Jonathan stumbles over his words. “Sure, uh. Yeah, I can do that… What about you, though?”

You think about your conversation with Nancy earlier, how she seemed so upset with Steve, and how not even ten minutes ago they’d been fighting over by the punchbowl. There’s a hurt between them, one you think may be too big to patch up with just one conversation, but Jonathan doesn’t know all of this.

“I’ll drive Steve home.”

Both boys stare at you like you’re insane, and honestly? You can’t blame them.

You haven’t spoken to Steve in months, and Jonathan knows this better than anyone.

“Y/N,” Steve lowers his voice. “I haven’t had anything to drink, there’s no need–”

“Too bad. I’m taking you home. Jonathan, go find Nancy and make sure she gets back okay.”

Jonathan and Steve try to argue, but you yank Steve’s hand and make him come with you. It’s long past time the two of you had a talk, anyways.

–

When you exit the house, the weight of everything that’s just happened catches up to you. Your skin still feels raw, Billy’s presence lingering on you. Steve’s hand is warm in yours, but he isn’t holding on the way you secretly hoped he would. Jonathan’s confused and concerned eyes remain in the back of your mind, the image of him standing alone in the party makes you feel guilty.

But you have to do this. You’re tired of being a coward.

Steve is silent as he guides you to his car. He’s parked pretty far, which you hadn’t been expecting. “What, do you not get a special parking spot as King Steve?”

He ignores your attempt at a joke and instead drops your hand.

Okay. You deserved that.

When you get to his car, Steve throws you the keys and silently gets into the passenger seat. You inhale, willing this to end well, and get in the driver’s seat. You start the car and the engine warms your fingertips.

You start to drive.

Steve is looking out the window, and you’ve never seen him appear so small. He’s closed into himself, his shoulders are hunched and his carefree smile from earlier is gone.

“Not to make this awkward, but I kinda don’t know where you live.” You break the silence.

“Make a left up here.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight–”

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?”

Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,”

“It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.”

“I…” You can’t.

Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

You take a shaky breath. You knew this would be hard, but it still hurts more than you thought it would’ve. While you can’t tell Steve everything, you can offer him a half truth. It’s all you can afford, and it isn’t nearly half of what he deserves, but it’s all you can do. “I got scared.”

Your confession causes Steve to turn to you. “Scared?”

“Yeah, scared.”

“Gee, Y/N. That really explains a ton.”

You’re losing him again, so you offer him more. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am. It’s just… I got scared, I’ve never been good at letting people in. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you just… You scared me.”

Steve is silent again, only mumbling a quiet, “Turn right after this light.”

“Look,” you push down your fear, you need him to hear you. “You came crashing into my life in such a violent way, and it became the best goddamn thing that happened to me. There you were, spending every day at my job just to talk to me. You asked me questions about myself and noticed things no one else had before and I just… I couldn’t do it.”

You look over at Steve and soften your voice, putting every ounce of your guilt and sincerity into your words. “I missed you.”

“Missed?” There’s something in Steve’s voice that you can’t quite decipher, it’s almost too delicate to examine.

“Miss. I miss you,” you correct, and it takes everything within you not to confess more. To tell him you miss how his eyes turn a warm toffee in the late afternoon light, that you miss his obsession with his mom’s banana bread and that you have a recipe at home that you never got to make for him. You almost tell him that even though you pulled yourself away, you can’t seem to separate him from you. He’s everywhere.

But what you can’t tell Steve, what would break you if he ever found out, is that you’ve come to love how he’s everywhere.

Steve is silent, and you swallow down your tears. It wasn’t enough, but at least you tried.

As you turn into his driveway, Steve finally speaks. “All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was for people to like me.”

“Steve…”

“And every time I think someone finally likes me, I’m wrong. They leave me. I mean, you left me without a fucking word, Nancy lied about loving me, and my bullshit friends at school have replaced me with Billy.”

Nancy lied about loving him?

Steve looks down at his hands, his eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.”

You throw yourself across the car’s console and wrap yourself around the boy. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Steve places one arm around you, then slowly he places his other, and for the first time in months you’re finally back in his arms. He’s surrounded in you again, and he never, ever wants to let you go.

“You won’t leave me again?”

Steve asks this so softly, as if too scared to bring the words into the light and risk them scaring you away. You tighten your arms around him and bury your nose into his neck, his cologne making your brain dizzy. “Never.

And it’s enough for now.

The pieces settle between you and Steve. Something clicks into place and you know that he feels it, too. He tightens his own arms around you, draws small circles against your back, and you stay like that for what feels like hours.

Eventually the two of you break apart and head into his house. He offers you something warm to drink, but you decline. It’s late, you should be heading home soon. You ask Steve where his phone is and then call Jonathan, telling him to come get you from Steve’s.

Jonathan doesn’t ask any questions, his own voice sounding off on the phone. You know that tomorrow you’ll have to explain to him what happened with Steve, and he’ll have to explain what’s happened with Nancy. But tonight, you both settle on ignoring the topic for now.

Steve waits with you downstairs for Jonathan.

“If we’re going to be friends again, then I demand my nickname.”

You look up at the boy and laugh. “What if I told you I still haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Steve bats his eyelashes at you and you shove him away with another laugh.

“Hm,” you think for a moment, reveling in the simplicity between you two again. “It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.”

Steve makes a face. “Lovely? That’s all I get?”

“Mhm.” You poke his face. “For now, please just trust that I’ll stay.”

Steve looks away for a moment, and you admire his lovely side profile, before he finally seems to settle on his thoughts. “Fine, but I expect some type of baked good every day from here on out.”

“Deal.” You raise your pinky and offer it to Steve, who smiles and shakes his head, but wraps his own pinky around yours.

Steve’s eyes are still red, from exhaustion and heartbreak, and yours are probably no better. You know there’s so much the two of you have to face tomorrow morning, to talk about and deal with. Nancy, Jonathan, Billy. But for now, Steve’s pinky is around yours and you couldn’t ask for a better end to your night.

It’s a start.

It’s all you could’ve asked for.

Jonathan arrives later and waits in the car, seeming to sense that you want some privacy as you say goodbye to Steve.

“That’s my ride.” You nudge him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about the Nancy thing. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

“What–”

“We’re friends again and I nag all my friends about their emotions. You were spared last year, but this year? Buckle up, buddy.”

Steve lets out a tired laugh. “Do I have to sign another contract?”

“Nah, you just have to trust me.”

“I do.” He says, no ounce of hesitation.

You squeeze his hand. “Then that’s all I need. Goodnight, Steve. Get some rest.”

Steve nods and watches as you walk towards Jonathan’s car. He stays outside for a while, long after the car has faded in the distance. The cold air makes him shiver, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he welcomes it. His mind is spinning, he’s not sure if he feels more heartbreak or relief, but he decides he doesn’t care.

For now, he’s content.

Now that he has you in his life again, no matter what happens between him and Nancy, he knows he’ll get through it with you holding his hand.

–

The drive home is quiet. Both you and Jonathan seem to be lost in your own thoughts. When you get to your house, you simply tell your friend, “Tomorrow. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow,”

Jonathan nods, his eyes as tired as yours. “Tomorrow.”

You walk inside your house and notice all the lights off. You’re home later than you originally planned, your mom must be asleep already. You kick off your shoes and sigh tiredly. Tonight has exhausted you.

However, you feel bad about skipping out on the boys, so you walk towards Dustin’s room and quietly knock on the door to apologize. After a few knocks, Dustin cracks his door open. “Yes?”

“Hey, just wanted to ask how tonight…” You notice Dustin’s stance, how he seems to almost be trying to block your view of something. “Is everything alright?”

Your brother quickly repositions himself. “Fine! Nothin’ to see here!”

He’s definitely acting suspicious.

“Open the door, show me what’s inside.”

You go to shove your way in, but Dustin scrambles and ends up shouting, “Will had another episode tonight!

“What?” You freeze.

Dustin lets out a breath of relief. He knew using Will’s episode would be a good distraction from what he has in his room. “Will, he had another episode. He’s fine, though… Just thought you should know.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Actually,” Dustin lets out a yawn. “I’m kinda tired. Ya know, trick-or-treating is hard work. Can we just call it a night and talk about it tomorrow?”

“I mean, I guess?” Your list of things you need to talk about tomorrow keeps growing.

“Sweet! Goodnight, Y/N!” And with that, Dustin slams his door in your face. He presses his back pressed against his door as he steadies his heartbeat. That was close, too close. After a couple seconds, he walks over to his turtle’s tank and greets Dart again. “Sorry buddy, had to get Y/N away. She’d freak if she found out about you.”

Dart lets out a small screech in response.

“Wonder how long I can keep this from her.”

Meanwhile, you stand in the hall for a moment, completely bewildered as to what’s just happened. It feels like you missed a few important details. There’s something happening, but you have no idea what.

You go to your room and make a plan. Tomorrow, you’ll order a code blue with Dustin and demand information. For now, all you can do is get ready for bed and hope that whatever he’s hiding, it isn’t as monumental as El had been.

Tonight, you go to bed thinking of Nancy and Steve, worried about them both.

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yelena-bellova · 10 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen: The Hills

Plot: When Y/n doesn’t show up to a staff party, Jamie takes it upon himself to investigate why.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mention of child neglect/abuse, one dirty joke

A/N: I did not expect to have this one done so soon after the last, but it came together super fast so I’m just running with it before I overthink it.

This chapter’s a bit more inside Jamie’s head, something that will happen more as we round the turn on the series. Richmond Hill is an actual place and it looks gorgeous and super peaceful. The perfect setting. Hope y’all enjoy, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged 🌈

—————

Every few months, the AFC Richmond staff had a cook-out. The entirety of Nelson Road was invited from star player to security guard. It was a great way to help facilitate the family atmosphere they prided themselves on. Like a lot of things, it had only been instituted after Ted arrived.

Most of the players were sat together, animatedly conversing over foldout tables and food definitely not permitted on their strict diets. Higgins and Beard were double teaming the grill. Ted, ever the social butterfly, was flitting from person to person, not satisfied till he’d made sure he’d greeted everybody. Keeley was absent, still not feeling up to a party in the wake of the video leak, but Rebecca had assured whoever asked after her that she was doing better.

Jamie was sat with Isaac and Dani, talking about the upcoming game that weekend. Every thirty seconds, like clockwork, he’d glance up at the entrance to the pitch, expecting to see someone walk through. Someone who should’ve been there by now.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket. No text. No missed call.

Jamie frowned, this wasn’t normal.

He got up from the table, knowing that if he showed any concern about where she was in front of his teammates, they wouldn’t hesitate to tease him. Ask questions. Why did he need to know? Why did it matter so much to him that Y/n hadn’t shown up? Jamie didn’t care to deal with any speculation, his mind was singularly focused on figuring out where she was.

As Ted was at one of the tables, filling a plate, Jamie grabbed an empty one and sidled up to him.

“Hey, Jamie,” Ted greeted.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Havin’ fun?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie muttered, “Couple people missin’.”

Ted glanced around as if he hadn’t noticed, “Yeah, Sam mentioned he needed to be at the restaurant tonight.”

Jamie looked back at their group, realizing Sam wasn’t there. Huh. He should have noticed that.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, moving with Ted down the line while not taking any food. He tried to sound as casual as he could, “Y/n ain’t here either.”

By now, Ted was fully aware that Jamie and Y/n were connected at the hip. He knew better than to comment on it, but he wasn’t at all surprised by Jamie’s clumsily concealed concern.

“Yeah, I knocked on her door before I left,” Ted explained, “See if she wanted to walk over together. She said she wasn’t feelin’ well.”

That only worried Jamie further. Not because he thought she was actually unwell, but because he’d just talked to her the night before. She’d been fine.

“Ah,” he said.

“I’m sure she’ll bounce back before the match,” Ted smiled, reassuring Jamie with a pat on the back.

Jamie stayed, twirling the empty plate in his hands. Y/n wouldn’t lie for no reason, something had to have been wrong. And he couldn’t ignore the tightening in his chest because of it.

——————

Y/n laid on her living room floor, her back against the rug and her feet resting on the couch. For whatever reason, the floor seemed like the best place to be when feeling miserable.

She knew she was letting people down by not being at the picnic. Lying to Ted, something she could do so easily a few months ago, had nearly made her wince when he knocked on her door an hour prior. But to explain why she wasn’t going would have taken much longer than simply calling on the anxiety-provoked stomach ache she had and claiming she wasn’t up to being social. She could spend the evening by herself and give herself a clean bill of health the next morning.

The first sound of something hitting her window she mistook for a very large bug and didn’t flinch.

The second one got her to lift an eyebrow, glancing over at the glass.

Another one and she dragged herself to her feet, pulling back the curtains to find the culprit. She felt stupid for not banking on the one person who surely would have figured her out.

Jamie rolled his remaining pebbles in his hand, waiting as Y/n unlocked and opened her window. He’d known if she was in a mood, she wouldn’t be answering her door.

“You’re not at the party,” she called down.

“You’re not sick,” Jamie squinted up at her.

“You don’t know that,” Y/n replied, she barely had the strength to argue with him but damn it if she didn’t try.

Jamie frowned at her, “Seemed fine last night.”

In her stupor, she’d forgotten that they’d been texting less than 24 hours before.

“Things…” Y/n shrugged, “Develop quickly.”

“Right,” Jamie sighed, somehow having her lie to his face was worse than not knowing where she was, “You tell me what’s goin’ on, or I start throwing rocks again.”

Y/n didn’t particularly want company, but Jamie was…Jamie. He wasn’t going anywhere.

She relented with an exhausted smile, walking away from the window. Jamie headed for the front door.

Y/n unlocked the door and trudged back up the stairs, Jamie entering just as she made it back up. She retook her place on the floor, they were long past the point in their friendship where she had to play hostess.

Jamie stood at the top of the stairs, unable to see Y/n. He stepped into the space further and peeked over the couch, spotting her hair.

He chuckled, “The fuck’re you on the floor for?”

“It’s my thinking spot,” Y/n replied, keeping her eyes closed.

“Hm,” Jamie smiled, trying not to laugh at her when something was clearly wrong, “Well, if you are dyin’, maybe tell me now. It’ll be a bitch tryin’ to replace ya. Keeley’ll have to start right away.”

Y/n sighed, “I’ll live.”

Jamie waited a few seconds to see if she’d explain further. When she didn’t, he crossed the distance between them and took a seat on the couch.

“So…” he pursed his lips, “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Y/n’s vision blurred as she looked up at the ceiling. Since she’d woken up, any move she made felt thick, like trudging through mud.

“It’s my dad’s birthday.”

Jamie blinked a few times, the wash of concern morphing into understanding. Of course she’d lied, of course she was on the floor. Of course.

“And as much as I enjoy watching Beard and Higgins argue over the correct way to grill a steak,” Y/n sighed, “Didn’t exactly feel like being around people.”

She didn’t need to explain herself. Jamie and Y/n had seen each other through most of their terrible family anniversaries. They rarely mentioned them, either their time spent together conveniently fell on the dates or they invited the other one out for no particular reason. This was one of the first times Y/n had actually told Jamie what day it was, and that meant it was bad.

Thus, it had to be treated the same as the others.

Jamie exhaled deeply, “Where d’you keep your blankets?”

Y/n didn’t say anything, simply pointing down the hall where her linen closet was.

Jamie got off the couch, patting Y/n’s knee as he did and headed down the hallway. Per her excessive organizational skills, all the towels and blankets were meticulously folded.

“Got one you don’t mind getting dirty?” Jamie called.

Y/n grimaced, “There’s, like, ten different ways to take that question.”

“Not that, ya pervert,” Jamie said as he reached for the top shelf. He found a faded and stained blanket that fit the bill.

Y/n hadn’t moved an inch when Jamis came back. He gently hit her leg with the blanket, “Get up.”

Groaning, Y/n opened her eyes. “What?”

“Get up, get your shoes.”

“I’m not going to the picnic,” Y/n rubbed her eye.

“No, you’re not,” Jamie agreed, “We’re goin’ somewhere else.”

Y/n exasperatedly sighed, “Jamie-“

“If it doesn’t make you feel better, we’ll leave,” Jamie held his palms up, “Promise.”

There weren’t a lot of people Y/n would have listened to in that moment. Jamie was probably the only one, in fact. There was an unspoken trust between them.

Y/n pushed herself into a sitting position, giving him one more disgruntled glance, before standing up. Jamie pulled her the last bit before heading for the stairs.

Friday evening in Richmond was busy and Y/n and Jamie took purposeful, long strides to his car. The faster they moved, the less of a chance of someone recognizing Jamie.

“Okay,” Y/n sighed once she was in the passenger seat, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jamie answered, backing out of his parking spot.

“You’re gonna drag me out of my house and not even tell me where you’re taking me?”

Jamie popped his lips, “Yep.”

Y/n shook her head in annoyance and looked out the window, watching as her home disappeared.

The silent drive lasted ten minutes, ending with Jamie pulling them into an older parking lot. Nothing but trees and grass sprawled out before them.

Jamie locked his car and set off towards the greenery, “Come on.”

Y/n followed, making her displeasure known on her face, if not her mouth.

Jamie led them down a path that quickly changed to an incline, growing steeper and steeper.

“Why is it every time you take me somewhere,” Y/n took a deep breath, “It involves exercise?”

Showing off, Jamie took the last few steps backwards. “Call it payback for training sessions,” he smirked.

It had a been a couple weeks since Roy had invited her, but Y/n was owed a fair share of crap.

“Welcome,” Jamie spread his arms out, “To Richmond Hill.”

Trying to catch her breath, Y/n stared out at the expanse. There were walking trails and thick oak trees spread everywhere. In the near distance, she could see gardens. The sky, beginning to turn all the pastels of a sunset palette, was blending with the forest green tops of the trees. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” Y/n whispered.

Jamie nudged her with his elbow, smiling, and unrolled the blanket. He spread it out across the grass and gestured for Y/n to sit down.

“So you went the whole ‘Fresh Air and Nature’ approach,” Y/n said, sinking down onto the blanket.

“Just needed to get you out of that sad lil’ flat,” Jamie took the spot next to her.

Y/n scoffed, “You picked that sad little flat.”

“Yeah, but,” Jamie stretched out and laid back, “It ain’t the flat’s fault its renter was bringing it down.”

He felt better when he was able to get a laugh, however meek, out of Y/n. It meant she wasn’t totally beyond his help.

“And now you’re gonna ask me if I want to talk about it,” Y/n said, fidgeting with her fingers. The habit had only been made worse by watching Jamie play with his hands so often.

“Nope,” Jamie shook his head.

Y/n hummed and nodded cooly. “Was the party fun before you left at least?”

“Yeah,” Jamie shrugged, “It was fine. When I was leaving, Coach was just startin’ to tell those dad jokes.”

Ted was a treasure trove of puns and some truly awful jokes. “What’s the one he loves?” Y/n tried to recall.

Jamie could recite it from memory, “‘What did the mama llama say to the baby llama as they prepared for a picnic?’”

They hit the punchline in sync, “‘Alpaca lunch,’” and descended into tired laughter.

“That got old the second or third time,” Y/n smiled down at her lap.

“Or the first,” Jamie replied.

Y/n sighed and stared down the hill, there were shockingly few people enjoying what surely was a busy place any other time.

“How’d you know about this place?”

“Come here every once in and a while,” Jamie answered, his hands folded behind his head, “Good for trainin’. Good for just…quiet.”

She had to agree. If one needed to do any contemplating, this would be the place to do it.

The silence was encouraging. “I haven’t spoken to my dad,” Y/n started, bitterly smiling at the air, “In a year, I think.”

While it wasn’t totally surprising in Y/n’s situation, the statement itself was. Jamie raised his brows, “Fuck.”

“It wasn’t even a holiday or anything,” Y/n continued, “They’d just found some old toys in the garage. Told me they’d pack ‘em up and send them.”

“Isn’t it a fuck ton of money to ship here from the States?” Jamie asked.

Y/n chortled and picked at a piece of grass, “Shows how badly they wanted to get my stuff out of their house.”

Jamie ran a hand over his face, he couldn’t relate. His mum had kept his childhood room exactly the way it had been when he moved out.

“When was the last time you spoke to your dad?” Y/n dared to ask, she wanted to feel a little less lonely.

“Haven’t,” Jamie answered plainly, “Not since Wembley.”

Y/n hugged her legs to her chest, “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. What about before then?”

“Before that,” he sighed, “Only when he wanted tickets or somethin’.”

Jamie tried not to think about his father, not unless it could be used as fuel to play. Proving his dad wrong was one of the things that had made him great, if not the thing. But even the great Jamie Tartt couldn’t banish the ever-persistant voice in his head telling him that he wasn’t good enough. That he was only good for what he good get out of him.

“If you could have a releationship with ‘em,” he ventured to ask, “With your mum…would you?”

Y/n looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze, but he had unfolded one arm to fiddle with his ring as he usually did during their more serious talks. “Like, if they wanted me?”

“If they wanted to talk,” Jamie added, “Wanted to be a part of your life.”

It was a loaded question. There was hurt in both potential answers. Y/n had found life on her own, a life she rather enjoyed. But the only reason that life had come to be was because she needed out of America, away from her parents. On the other hand, she felt like a child on special days like her dad’s birthday. She’d have given anything to fly home, hug her father and sing him ‘Happy Birthday’ alongside her mom and Caylee.

She lived in the nicest possible version of the worst outcome, but she’d have died for even the crappiest of the best one.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “Truthfully, I don’t think there’s any hope for us. Caylee’s off with her life, I have mine…” Y/n squinted into the distance, “And they have theirs. I think we’re past the point of no return.”

Jamie wasn’t trying to get her to come to any conclusion. He was just curious. He’d thrown his dad out of his life several times, but he’d always gotten back in somehow.

“What about you?” Y/n asked.

He blew out a gentle breath, there’d always be a part of Jamie that wanted a relationship with his dad. The version of the man he’d wished for as a child.

“Nah,” Jamie replied, “Don’t think so. Think we hit that point when I decked him.”

Y/n rested her chin on her knees, “That would do it. Do you regret it?”

“What? Hittin’ him?” Jamie waited until Y/n nodded, “Fuck no. I just…” He looked down at his ring again, “Just hate that I had to.”

The words were sour in Jamie’s mouth. They didn’t belong there. No child should ever be in the position to say they landed one on their parent. Worse, that they didn’t regret it.

“Do you ever regret leaving America?” Jamie asked, his eyes tracing Y/n’s profile, “Comin’ here?”

“No,” Y/n answered, feeling a few tears beginning to well. “I just hate that I had to.”

They sat in silence after that, letting the cool evening breeze hit their open wounds. Neither of them were good at being vulnerable, their friendship had forced them to become comfortable with it. But still, it hurt to hurt.

Eventually, when the sun began to melt into deeper shades of pinks and oranges, Y/n laid back on the blanket. Without looking, she reached between her and Jamie’s bodies and took his hand, weaving her fingers between his. Jamie didn’t hesitate to do the same.

“This is better than the floor,” she admitted softly.

Jamie smiled, shutting his eyes as he turned himself to stone. It was a moment he was afraid would end if he touched it. And he wanted to make it last as long as he could.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

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junjiie · 8 months

Text

해찬 ## 🗯️ ⠀ &THEAFTERPARTY..

IN WHICH ? ⠀ 🔌 ⠀ yn and donghyuck were friends who fooled around once or twice (or rather, far more than either of them wanted to admit) for fun, and that was that. things get a little complicated when the latter shows up back in the city and ends up catching feelings.

Ꮺ PAIRING ₁ ⠀ lee donghyuck x male!reader.

𑁤 GENRE ₂ ⠀ smau, non-idol au, (loose & not mentioned much) uni setting, written parts, fwbs to strangers to lovers, fluff, humour, and a little angst (??).

위험! — WARNINGS ₃ ⠀ swearing, kys jokes, implied sex & sexual references, suggestive jokes, sunwoo of tbz as yn’s fc!!!

⭔ FEATURING ₄ ⠀ mark, renjun, & jeno of nct, jake and heeseung of enha, jiung and keeho of p1h, and more various cameos!!

҂ TAGLIST ₅ ⠀ open! still a kind of #SmallCreator but yk. support small businesses ⭐️ and all that. u dont even know who haechan is but u still want to….. come on…. do it.. send an ask / reply / dm wtv 2be added ^ ^

JJ ₊ ⠀ this has been in my brain for SO long i have been prisoner to so many Haechan Thoughts 💭 its genuinely criminal. bias wrecker like no other ☹️ anw i cant decide for the life of me what i want the vibes to be like so if theres a whiplash inducing tone-shift between every chapter then i can only say sorry in advance. ppl on the perm taglist even if u dont stan nct i hope you will enjoy this mess!! LOVE U ALL (but i love karma a little bit more.. THIS IS ALL 4 U BSF EVER MUAHHH. ok gn im going to bed..)

profiles (･o･;) ⠀ 💣 ⠀ moneysexual wyd warriors

prelude. new york to seoul (written.)

one. chains of capitalism

two. thing-not-thing

three. knock knock

four. delaying the inevitable (written.)

five. slime (no glue) (no borax)

six. with quickness and haste

seven. chismosavirus

eight. took you long enough (written.)

nine. disappointed and ashamed

ten. girls night out

eleven. see you then

twelve. chocolate chips (written.)

thirteen. make yours match

fourteen. up to no good

fifteen. kun’s at 2

sixteen. coffee cake (written.)

seventeen. does he know?

eighteen. you won

nineteen. get in here

twenty. live-in-able (written.)

twenty one. or whatever

twenty two. hypocrisy

twenty three. freebies

taglist ## @wave2love @so2uv @mins-fins @kimgyuuu @wtfhyuck (perm) &&& @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @kosmicbomb @222brainrot @haohyo @dinonuguaegi

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miindfucked · 3 months

Text

benedict bridgerton fic rec

nsfw fics are marked with🔞. all work has been credited to their respective authors.

It Had To Be You by @fayes-fics

Summary: Modern AU romcom. A love story heavily inspired by When Harry Met Sally.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, (ongoing)

Whatever the Poets Say by @pagesfromthevoid

Teaser: “What if I wanted to wait for you, Benedict?” She repeated, finally using his name. The way it felt on her tongue was almost sinful; but she loved it. “What if I am willing to walk to the ends of the earth and back, simply to see if you could love me?”

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen🔞, eighteen🔞, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two🔞, epilogue.

Foolish Endeavor by @murdockparker

Summary: Benedict Bridgerton was certainly no fool. Bad at cards, sure, a bit taller than most, that was a given, but he was seldom called a fool. Though, one could argue that falling for your best friend was a foolish endeavor, indeed.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven🔞, (ongoing)

Somewhere Only We Know by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

From A Father To A Son by @thebabblingbrookenook

Summary: Benedict has held his father’s words close to his heart for his entire life. The model of love that his parents provided set an uncompromising standard. All of the pieces to the puzzle didn’t fully align until he fell in love with you. Although his father is gone, Benedict gets to experience the love of his life through the lens of his father’s parting sage wisdom.

(Be)Longing by @fayes-fics

Summary: Mutual rescue, mutual jealousy, longing and belonging.

This Is My Idea by @theship-thewalrus

Summary: based on the song 'this is my idea' from The Swan Princess

This Book Is Dedicated To... by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. Benedict helps cure some writer's block.

to be loved and to be in love by @desertno3

Summary: You had been best friends with Benedict for as long as you can remember, your relationship forged during the years your mothers were preoccupied with the youngest children and your fathers were busy instilling leadership qualities in the eldest children. It seemed to be a perfect match for a future marriage, or so everyone had thought. However, your first season had come and gone and Benedict had not been as active a participant as his mother had hoped he would be. You had left London betrothed to someone else and that was that. But news about your disastrous betrothal reaches Aubrey Hall in the spring. And it changes everything.

When The World Is Free by @fayes-fics

Sypnosis: It is late summer 1939, when you arrive in Paris from New York to begin a year of adventure. A deal struck with your parents to see a little of the world before settling down and marrying your ‘childhood sweetheart’ Stanley.

You soon find yourself with a spirited young English housemate Eloise, enjoying all that the cosmopolitan European city has to offer…. Until a few weeks later when war is declared. In this newly uncertain world, Eloise’s mother dispatches her brother to bring her home. Your plan is to board a ship back to America… but circumstances conspire to leave you possibly trapped in France with no way home. Eloise refuses to leave the country without you, even as you secretly grow attached to her beguiling brother, Benedict, who is everything Stanley is not.

There appears to be only one solution to your dilemma to ensure safe passage out of the country as invasion seems imminent… but it will mean your life is forever changed, even when the world is free again.

Chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, (ongoing)

Innuendo Bingo by @fayes-fics

Summary: Someone knows a LOT of stupid synonyms for orgasms…

Truth or Dare by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. A drunken game of Truth or Dare leads to an interesting development.

Rhythm by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. Filthy talking and dancing with Benedict.

All The Love (Under a Mistletoe) by @seasonsbloom

Summary: modern!au. you have been in love with your best friend's older brother for years. on Christmas eve, things finally come to a head.

Summer Nights by @murdockparker

Summary: Benedict was born to be a father, she was sure of it.

Waking Up by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU. What is the best way to be woken up…?

In the Oven by @murdockparker 🔞

Summary: She was never all that good at baking, so perhaps a bit of assistance from her husband would be a sufficient help?

Inspiration by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Benedict just needs a little inspiration to complete his artwork.

Happy Birthday, Mr Bridgerton by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Benedict's wife gives him the best possible birthday gift.

Transitions by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Modern AU, friends to lovers, it’s very distracting when a Bridgerton becomes a triathlete…

Breaking and Fixing by @fayes-fics

Summary: Benedict’s wife likes to fix things (and break them).

Mine by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Benedict's wife gets lots of male attention at a party and he gets very jealous.

A Treat by @fayes-fics 🔞

Prompt: “don’t be shy; come sit on my face, love.”

Acting Up by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Your husband Benedict gives you a treat during a Bridgerton family dinner.

Sonnet #29 by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Your husband Benedict and you have a late night tryst in the billiards room of Bridgerton House.

Lightening & Lilies by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Simply put, greenhouse sex during a thunderstorm.

Tell me (all the ways you missed me) by @fayes-fics 🔞

Summary: Having been apart for 3 weeks, you share an eventful carriage ride.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fic rec #farzana's recs

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themotherofblood · 5 months

Text

chapter 4 | river of fire | d.t x reader x r.t

series masterlist | main masterlist | previously

a/n: so a major fuck up on my end, I had updated a chapter on ao3 but didn’t on tumblr so I wrote two chapter fives, that has been corrected to the time line. So sorry!

synopsis: the matter of visery’s marriage looms in the air when Daemon swoops in to cause more chaos and steals his late nephew’s egg

“The lanterns in the sky were beautiful, just two but against the dark sky they were everything. Rhaenyra will find peace, I pray she does, no matter how many burning hot baths and curt words she throws my way. She is there, angry and afraid. She is me at seven, I could hold her and tell her everything will be better I cannot. I can merely tell her that I shall love her always, I will be with her always.”

After many quarrels on Rhaenyra’s part, she had finally earned a seat on the Small Council and you have been tasked with a new job. The King’s Cupbearer. Most of the time you tried not to break into a fit of ill-concealed giggles if you met Nyra’s eyes. It was insightful for sure, you made Rhaenyra do your bidding once or twice, men for a clothing donation run and a few sanctions for diverse agricultural trades. You wanted jasmine seeds without spending nearly half of your pin money to do so.

Rhaenyra had been aloof for most of it, growing more defiant— it was adorable and yet concerning; she was dealing with her grief as best she could, for it had only been just more than half a year since Aemma passed. Though Daemon being dismissed from the court might have had a role in catalysing her loneliness, sure you were there, her love that she would kiss goodnight and unabashedly embrace at all hours of the day but perhaps only a dragon could understand a dragon.

“Why did you have to say it! Why!” Rhaenyra scolded Daemon. “You will be gone now too.”

“ The Heir for A Day. ” You oddly understood the humour behind it. You believed not that he had ill intentions when saying it so, but perhaps your admiration for him was so thick you couldn’t see past it.

Even Syrax grew petulant, refusing to hunt for herself, she grew fluffy around the edges but adorable nonetheless, she doesn’t waft her nostrils at you anymore. You would like to think the yellow dragon is friends with you now, however, you do not wish to stick your hand in its mouth to test out the theory.

The latest rumble, however, one only spoken without your or Rhaenyra’s presence was the matter of Viserys finding a new queen for himself. Barely half a year and attempts of forever shrouding Aemma already had set afoot, it is expected of him even with Rhaenyra as his heir, the prospect of a son would forever loom over the high towers of the Red Keep. The lords would like to believe that the lot of you were stupid enough to not realise but Nyra had already scoffed about the prospect of having a stepmother, she’d support her father but such warmth might never extend to her new mother.

“ What ?” You and Rhaenyra exclaim in unison, brows pulled as you drop your current activities to question your aunt, a sense of vile premonition crawled onto your skin as your eyes blew wide.

Oberya had been summoned by the Small Council along with Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys, all the women at court and they found it appropriate to paw around the home, though she suggested that the notion of marriage was brought upon by Lord Corlys to present his daughter’s hand in marriage to Viserys– poor Laena, but your name was dragged to the battlefield by Lord Lyonel to contest Otto Hightower’s complains of Laena’s age. Offering you, an auspicious and elder match, elder match by a year and un-flowered. You are but fresh thirteen, he is at least two decades older if not more. Another horrid chill shrivels down your back.

Beyond all that was said, you could feel Rhaenyra’s gaze bore holes in your face, she knew this day would come but not you, the thought so wildly macabre that the possibility hadn’t even graced her nightmares in the past five moons.

“And?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice sounding far more curt than she intended. You turned to her, widening your eyes at her tone towards your aunt, she shook her head still replying to an answer.

“The decision is up to you, they have written to Qoren but I doubt he’d say any differently.”

“No! I’m not marrying Viserys.” You say mildly repulsed, Hands flailing as you push your needlepoint patch away, a shrill shiver running down your spine.

“Then that’s that.” Rhaenyra sharply nodded, coming to sit next to you. Yanking your face towards her and pecking your lips, it wasn’t an affectionate gesture but one to seal your decision for good.

Oberya coughed, eyebrows raised “Still here, darlings.”

You smiled at her apologetically, “You are sure Qoren wouldn’t write otherwise?”

“Oh-“ she rolls her eyes “have some faith in your brother will you?” She scolds, finding your mistrust in him still unbecoming.

“And write to him, will you. It’s been months dærya,” she points out before turning to leave, shaking her head once again at Rhaenyra who was clinging to you like a milk-hungry babe.

You shook Rhaenyra off you, it was far too warm to have her clung to your back. Now all you could think of was Laena , Rhaenys would have thoroughly prepared her for this, you were trying to find some bright light within such a prospect but you couldn’t. Viserys was a wise king and a wonderful warden to you, but he was nothing like the knights in the books you and Laena shared, not by a far shot.

“How could they do this? To Laena.” You shook your head, sinking further into the chaise and resting your palms on your belly.

Such marriages weren’t unheard of but you had believed Lord Corlys to be more of the progressive sort. He never found differences between Laenor and Laena and raised them alike but to now thrust Laena up for the position to marry Viserys all for…power? Title?

“It is for Rhaenys,” Rhaenyra mumbles, “if not his wife then his blood.” She sounded bitter.

You frowned at her, sitting up to clasp her shoulder with the fire of heavy disagreement burning in your heart.

“You are his heir, you. Not some child he currently does not have. He wouldn’t choose another.”

“How it could be, duck.”

“Nyra?” You frown, this time climbing on top of her to make her look at you. “You are his heir.”

“He barely talks to me, you think I’m his heir?” She snaps, pushing you off her. She grunts. “Not once has my input held any weight in his court, you’re young, it isn’t your place. I am his heir as a stowaway. The day one of those wh— women birth him a son. I’d be nothing again.”

Therein lay the truth, the subject that had her irked so, you saw it in the folds of her frown but never understood it fully. Septa Marlow had hushed Rhaenyra thrice on the topic but couldn’t punish as she saw fit because Rhaenyra was now the heir. There never had been such strife about successions when it came to you, your brother inherited the seat while you were a pawn for political alliances, it made perfect sense but this, to be the only child in many dead.

“Have you spoken to him about this?” You calmly said, trying to ease her turmoil as you reach for her pacing frame.

“I would sooner die.”

You would have opened your mouth to say something incongruous, something that you were sure would do nothing to fix the situation but what were you to do. Sit here and let Rhaenyra drown in whatever turmoil was boiling within her? You were three and ten but many days you couldn’t see beyond the frivolities of court, the games— what games ? Beyond the simpering ladies, and the brooding knights, what games were there to play beyond blindly chasing each other in the courtyard.

Sona interrupted your line of thought as she approached with a tray of tea for the lot of you and a stash of letters in her hands, Enora too followed suit, eyeing Rhaenyra's sour look as she presented her with her letters.

“Would you know where Lady Laena is?” You asked Sona as she poured you tea, she looked to Enora and then stood straight.

“Promenading, princess.” She replied.

You perked up, looking at Rhaenyra with a performative smile “We could use one too, couldn’t we Nyra, pick some flowers— perhaps visit Syrax?”

“I— she is with the King, princess,” Enora added, making Rhaenyra turn to her and sharply place her stash of letters on the chaise.

“Leave us!” She barks, pacing even harder now.

You looked at them apologetically as you took the teapot from Sona’s hands. “Stay close please.” You whispered.

“What fortune, even if I wanted to hate her I cannot.” Rhaenyra rants, picking at her sleeves. “He will always be the king won’t he, always the king before my father.”

You sorrowfully nodded. “I’m here with you, I’ll always be your lady before anything.” You sheepishly smile.

Rhaenyra’s curt resolution cracks for a moment as her lips curl upwards, and she yet again flops down next to you.

“I love you,” she mumbles, words like honey, you blush, nodding before kissing her cheek. She sighs even harder before resting her head on your shoulder.

The matter of Viserys nuptials was still in the air, every time you’d make rounds filling cups of the men in his court, somebody would bring it up, it went on for an entire moon and you could see it weighing down on the King’s shoulders. He was so beyond the need to talk about it, he barely spoke when Nyra and you would take meals with him. You saw it as his vice but Nyra, it wedged a further divide between her and her father. Even Alicent believed otherwise when she would accompany you in the gardens or to the markets.

Somehow, perhaps that Alicent was older, she had far wiser words, once laced in her faith as she consoled Rhaenyra. Every word with meaning and understanding she was stitching the gashes within Rhaenyra, you were thankful for it— Nyra wasn’t so pouty anymore. Though sometimes you missed Alicent, you were sure with her growing up her father would have thrust more ladylike duties in her lap, she couldn’t join your expeditions in finding shiny bugs or artisan rocks anymore.

“Go on, say it.” Rhaenyra shakes you by the shoulders.

“She won’t listen.” You rebut, shaking your head and cowering behind Rhaenyra, still small enough to hide behind her shoulders, you peek through looking at Syrax eyeing the sheep.

“Oh come on, roll your tongue on the ‘r’ and command her.” She insists.

“ Dr — Rhaenyra I can’t.” You whine, looking at the poor sheep, it wasn’t even shaved. Does Syrax eat the wool too? That doesn’t sound appetising.

She turns to you, squishing your cheeks within her palms and boring her purple eyes into your soul. “She is hungry, now you say it. Or I will make you ride on her.”

“There is a dragon in you, uncle said it and I believe him.”

“Rhaenyra, I wasn’t even given an egg and my mother wanted nothing to do with them.” You huffed, reiterating again.

“But look how well you do around them!” Rhaenyra whines.

“Say it or we go riding— and I sleep alone tonight!”

Your eyes widen, horrified you turn to Syrax “ Dracarys .” You say quickly and meekly.

Syrax turns her giant head to her rider, unused to taking orders from anything small that wasn’t Rhaenyra, she nods to her mount. The yellow beast wastes no time and blasts dragon fire onto the sheep, the poor thing doesn’t even get a moment to bleat its end before it gets cooked, you pout at where the fluffy animal stood. Rest well, sheep.

Rhaenyra watched Syrax feast on her supper as you looked around the dark stone cave.

“Nyra?” You pull on her arm, “can I go see the baby dragons?”

She bothers not to look at you and nods, knowing you'll be safe in the hands of the Dragonkeepers. She looks to Oalth, a newly appointed, young dragon keeper and orders him to take you to the nursery.

You pad along behind him, following his glowing silhouette from the fire torch in his hand as he leads you to the nursery.

“Watch your step princess,” he cautions, holding your hand as you climb up the steep stone-carved steps.

The nursery is well lit, mostly for the comfort of the Dragonkeepers but also to not have any of the little hellions wiggle away from this part of the cave, a giant hearth is lit with many dragon eggs laying around its edges, eggs of gold, purple, red and blues. Some small and some big, all waiting to hatch one day in the cradle of their riders or perhaps in the glowing embers of the hearth, their magic swirling within the membranes of the egg, forever keeping them alive and warm.

This summer there had been eight dragons that hatched, without riders they almost never survive, and if they do they never stay here, choosing to live their lives as wild dragons at Dragonstone, or perhaps wherever their hearts pleased.

“Here they are,” Oalth huffs as he moves out of your way.

Four little dragons looked much like lizards curled against one another. Little rocks used as cushioning to rest their heavy tails upon. They looked frail, breakable to touch. Oalth broke into a smile, bending down to let a finger trace down the orange dragon’s tail, they roused flopping over to him, expecting food most likely.

“I thought there were six?” You pulled your skirts up to stop one from trotting itself under you.

He looked to you apologetically, the answer being only one. They didn’t survive .

“Who’s eggs?”

“Dreamfyre, her eggs hatch but rarely live past the year.”

You tut, letting the orange little guy climb up your arm, smiling at the little thing. Orange body with bright red membranes, you could see it in the green of its eyes, it was strong.

“She is a fighter,” Oalth muses, smiling at the dragon finding adventure in climbing your skirts.

“She? How can you tell?”

“Intuition, we won’t know until she is grown but she has the fury of a she-dragon.” He says, minding the other little dragons.

“Quba konīr iksis,” a dragon keeper pokes his head through the entrance, hissing at Oalth in Valyrian, a foreign song to your ears. Oalth’s shoulders immediately stiffen.

“Stay here, princess.” He cautions as he grabs his dragon glass spear, rushing behind the other keeper.

You frown at him leaving but return your attention to the little creature now sniffing your ear. You gently pick her up by pinching together her wings and dropping her onto your palm.

“You’re a girl huh? Of course, you are, look at you.” You whisper, watching her walk in circles in your palms and plop down. “No boy dragon is this pretty.”

Oalth was right, even in her frailty there was something about her, a will to fly, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. Just like the one Rhaenyra has when she finds some way to bother Septa Marlow.

“You will live.” You tell her “Grow ginormous and el— elegant, eat sheep and fly as high as you want.”

“ Dracarys .” You smile at her, already envisioning her pale orange body to be a beacon of the Sun goddess once she is grown, whatever rider would claim her would surely be an eccentric embodiment of her.

A swift shuffle however tears you from your gaze for adoration, you flinch, turning your head over your shoulder and looking around the nursery to find the intruder.

And found you did.

There stood Daemon, a shabby cloak pulled down, his glowing silver hair much longer and his charming smirk greeting you.

“Playing with fire, are you, little viper?” He asks with a smug grin on his lips.

“Daemon?” You chide, looking around the room once more before turning to him.

There was a small burst of joy in your chest, you missed him dearly, however, he shouldn’t have been here. He was banished from King’s Landing, if anyone knew he would be in so so much trouble.

“You shouldn't be here!” You hiss, placing the baby dragon back by its sibling.

“Pretty one you’ve picked, princess” he deflects, pushing himself away from the wall he leaned against.

You turn to the orange dragon, “She won’t make it they say.” You lament, so quickly forgetting how dangerous Daemon's little visit is.

He hums, approaching you to set his eyes on the dragon. “Name it.”

“I cannot do that?” You look up at him, eyes wide and shaking your head.

“Can you not speak?” His sarcasm doesn’t miss your ears as you tut.

“I'm a Martell.” You state the obvious, wondering if in the eight moons he had spent away from home, he had returned without his sanity.

He faux gasps “What would Daenerys say?”

A pang of guilt hit your chest, you looked nothing like your mother, so accustomed to your dark features you often forgot that there was dragon blood within you.

“I— she won’t make it anyways.” You shake your head, still looking at the dragon napping away.

“Name, princess.”

“Agni…?” You look up at him but flinch once more when this time Oalth comes back to receive you.

Daemon swiftly ducks behind the wall again, as you look at the young dragonkeeper.

“Your wheelhouse is here, the princess calls for you.”

You couldn’t shake off meeting Daemon again, how were you to keep such a secret in your stomach? He was here, he broke the king’s rules — not surprising at all but still, you were a part of whatever his plot was now. Your skin prickled in goosebumps as you made the rounds filling half-empty cups around the Small Council table. Lord Corlys as usual, stopped you from filling his, you would have insisted on just skipping him over but Septa Marlow said it wasn’t proper.

It was the day after and you still rose with such tussled movement within you, did he hurt someone, burn something, do people know you saw him but said nothing— bad girl? You nervously finished your rounds and set down the jug on the table before turning towards the meeting.

The doors opened to the Elder Dragonkeeper using his cane to bow and enter the council room, bile coated the insides of your mouth. You were in so much trouble.

You turned the other way, hearing the Elder speaking in Valyrian, damn you, you patiently listened for anything that might sound like your name, the syllables or the word dārilaros .

“Dārilaros,”

Mother Rhyone, don’t let it be me.

“Daemon sikio sīdas, eglivivys aōhys.” The Elder declared.

The room grew silent, as you turned around, mayhaps you weren’t in trouble at all. He didn’t take your name. You appeared confused at why Rhaenyra appeared angry, you thought she’d be happy to hear the return of her favourite uncle.

“Skorior drōmon Daemon laēttas?” Rhaenyra’s words sounded like a question.

“Dārilaros Baelon iderēptā se Drōmon Ēdrurzo iles rūs.”

Your head turns to Viserys and back to Rhaenyra to try and understand what has happened, but Viserys stands abruptly. Storming out of the rooms with Otto heavy on his heels along with Ser Westerling and the Kingsgaurd. Rhaenyra follows suit in the other direction, running up to her rooms.

The other lords shuffled up, Lord Beesbury and Lord Lyonel left the rooms next, leaving Lord Corlys to sigh and look at your rigid but confused form.

“You ought to return to the gardens girl,” he called out, breaking you out of your bewildered trance. “The jasmine, have they grown?”

“What has happened?” You blurted out. Looking at him this time.

“Prince Daemon has happened, an egg and a hatchling missing.” He shook his head.

You rushed out of the Small Council this tip, taking two steps as you rushed up Maegor’s Holdfast to your apartments. Daemon had once again shot an arrow straight at an already gaping open wound, you only worried about what Rhaenyra might do this time for she couldn’t just beat her fists on Daemon’s chest this time.

When you burst through her chambers she was already gone, the yellow gown she was wearing earlier discarded on her bed and her gloves and dagger gone. You groaned, falling onto her bed, wondering what trouble Rhaenyra was going to find herself this time, instead, you found a small rolled-up parchment along with her clothes.

“ I’ll return soon.”

You could cry from how frustrated and scared you were, why is it that these two always seemed to drag you into impermissible situations, where you must lie for them. You would again be in such trouble.

You paced back and forth at least a hundred times, your feet could have walked to Winterfell and back from how hard and how long you had been pacing, looking out to the setting sun and waiting for Rhaenyra to return home.

Every time a crow or pigeon flew by, you wondered if it was her. Come back, come back you insolent lover of mine.

“Princess?” Sona stood in your receiving chambers with an evening gown in hand, “it is time for supper soon.”

Supper with the king, my death.

Even dressed for supper in a longer gown, you began pacing once more, your boots thudding against the stone floor. Coming up with possible excuses you could give on Rhaenyra’s behalf, feverish, loss of appetite, poor absolutions— uh mayhap not.

When the sun just touched the horizon you began walking towards Viserys’s chambers, mumbling reasoning under your breath as Ser Darklyn followed behind you, he had been fed the story of Rhaenyra being tired, now you needed an elaboration. A sticky narrative with no questions, Ser Darklyn knocked on your behalf and then you were let in.

“Your grace.” You curtsied, waiting for him to receive you.

“Ah, come— come.” Viserys looked up from his pumice stone city.

“You’ve added another layer?” You ask the work was truly beautiful, with more cravings of dragons around the edges of the main wall.

“The Ānōgron, which is?” He quizzed.

“The blood mages workshops?”

He smiled, nodding at you.

“It is beautiful, my king.” You complimented, gently tracing your finger along its edge.

“Where is Rhaenyra?” He muses, still craving away with his dagger.

“She is feeling unwell, she had her supper early and chose to rest for a while.” You say quickly, toying with your fingers.

“Unwell? Pah, I didn’t think the matter with the egg would bother her so deeply.” he shook his head, wiping the tip of his dagger on a cloth. “Has Mellos looked at her?”

“I wouldn’t know, your grace. I spent the evening in the gardens.” Another lie. You twist the rings on your fingers even harder.

You awkwardly begin to walk towards the already set table for three, the aromas of deliciousness filling your nostrils, beyond everything today, you were starving for sure. Just as you settled yourself in, waiting for Viserys to join. The doors to his room opened once more with an attendant stepping in.

“The Princess has returned from Dragonstone.”

Viserys turns to you, eyes squint as he questioningly takes your name once more, your shoulders slumping in defeat and you glaring holes into the back of the attendant walking away.

You sat slowly eating your supper as echoes of arguing bustled from the antechamber, first, you would hear Viserys scold Rhaenyra, and then she would scream back in a rebuttal. It went on for several minutes, you finished your goose by then. Flinching every now and then whenever their voices would boom from the other chamber.

Eventually, everything went quiet, you wondered if this is what those two needed to finally have a proper conversation, one not laced with court propriety but one of a father and his daughter. You could still hear him speaking, and then her speaking. Softly, a fight grew to an endearing conversation by the time you began feasting on the lemon cakes. You slouched against the chair, this time sipping on— or trying to sip on some strong wine, which by all means tasted vile.

The doors then opened, and you abruptly sat straight, wiping the corners of your mouth and sheepishly looking at Rhaenyra. Both of them looked gleeful as they walked toward you.

“You alright sweetheart, you look ill,” Rhaenyra took a seat next to you.

You frowned this time, whisper hissing at her as you smack her thigh, hard. “I lied to the king for you, the king !”

Viserys then called for you. “Usually my court would have liars gelded, but I seem to have hordes of parchment to get through. Up before the Hour of the Rabbit, a King’s Cupbearer must not be late.”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon headcanon #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon edit #houseofthedragon #house of the dragon fandom #house of the dragon smut #river of fire series

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wisteria-blooms · 7 months

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (3/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 (let me know if I've missed you! otherwise, comment or DM me to be added) Uhm, before you start, peep this gorgeous GIF set below by @alicent-targaryen. Please just browse the entire #sam-heughan tag like I did for the past hour lol. A/N: Also, I don't think the most thorough editing job. I'll go over it again and fix hiccups.

CHAPTER 3: After an unplanned first 'date', having Charlie over for dinner sounds more scrumptious than any perfectly-done filet mignon. However, you should've known that involving him would involve more people than you would've liked. (3.7k words)

CHAPTER 3: IN TOO DEEP

It was the same dreadful feeling of getting in trouble when you were a child. A premonition that a scolding was coming.

That was what you felt as you followed your father down the hallway. But you weren’t going to be asked why Draco was crying after you pushed him (see: age three) or why you scored so poorly in an third-year elective over Christmas break (see: age thirteen). No, twenty-three was going to bring on a different slew of problems.

When you and Lucius were situated in a dark corridor and shielded from the view of the other patrons, you braced yourself. Deep in the shadows, you definitely looked like your father. You never quite got his platinum blonde hair or pale blue eyes; your colouring was always a touch darker. But here, you were the mirror image of him, displeased expressions and aversions to losing and all.

You clenched your jaw shut as did Lucius until he finally gritted out: “What are you doing here? And in this get-up?”

“Why does it matter what I wear?” you snapped back. Lucius was draped in some of the fanciest emerald robes he’d owned, so whatever meeting he had was definitely important.

“I don’t particularly care for what you’re wearing, but rather, who it belongs to,” Lucius clarified. “And for you to be here with that Weasley—”

“His name’s Charlie, father.”

“They’re all the same, a stain on our reputation, and speaking of such things,” Lucius continued, his voice gaining volume as he spoke. “We Malfoys have one to upkeep. Either bring some acceptable friends of yours or—”

Lucius quickly glanced around him to make sure there was no one important passing by. When he saw a woman exit the powder room, he waited pleasantly for her to pass before resuming his speech. One that you’d heard a million times.

“Don’t present yourself here with him.”

“Oh, what does it matter?”

“You will leave this instance,” he commanded. “With the Weasley child.”

“He is not a child, and you can’t tell me what to do,” you countered, your voice rising too. “I can be here with whoever I please. In fact, we’ll have Jacques seat us so we can stay longer. He always has a spot in the restaurant for the Malfoys.”

“You will not,” he hissed. “I have more associates joining me and I won’t be—”

When an elderly couple turned the corner down the hall, you and Lucius both shut up immediately. At the same time, you choked out smiles at each other to give the guise of a pleasant conversation, not the whisper-shouting match that was actually going on. It was in that moment of much-needed silence that you realized something important: Lucius falsely assumed you and Charlie were together. Not in the form of a fling, but he falsely assumed Charlie was the boyfriend you were parading around yesterday.

“I’m going back to Charlie. Good luck with your meeting.”

You spun away on your heels. As you ditched Lucius, you walked thunderously back to the front. Arguing with your father always put you in the worst of tempers. First, he threatened to have Goyle over because you were unpaired, and now, he was upset with your choice of partner? It was like arguing with a wall.

Up front, Charlie was waiting for you, two drinks in hand and a pastry bag in between his fingers. In the time you were gone, his order had been served. He handed a drink to you.

Trying to suppress your frustration, you asked Charlie in a whisper: “Can you follow my lead?”

“What was that?” he asked, leaning downwards. “You’re too quiet. Or too short for me to hear you.”

“Lean closer, then,” you instructed.

“Okay.” Charlie complied immediately, arching down even further until his lips were a touch too close to your ear. From the view of a bystander, it gave the appearance of him kissing your cheek, maybe his lips grazing your earlobe… You repressed a shudder, having to remind yourself that he just was fooling around like his younger brothers often did.

“Walk out with me,” you whispered.

You extended your right hand, motioning for him to take it. And without a second of hesitation, he did. Those long, callused fingers wrapped around your smaller ones for the second time today. His grip was firm and protective. You turned your head slightly to see Lucius was looking, and sure enough, he was. Luckily from him, Mr. Lemieux was turned away from the spectacle.

You imagined he was wearing his teeth down with how hard his jaw was clenched. Worn dentition was soon going to be the least of his problems if he kept pissing you off.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said.

“Tell me about it.”

You led him out back through the double glass doors. Your brisk walk turned into a jog down the street. You were trying not to trip on cobblestones or spill your drink again. When you’d reached a safe distance from Cauco, you burst out laughing. And so did Charlie.

“What was that?” he asked. “Actually, what is this?” He raised both your hands that were still tangled to each other. “A change of heart for me?”

“No, this is pure subterfuge,” you responded through fits of laughter.

“What possessed you to take my hand?”

“My father told me to get out, so I did. I couldn’t leave you.”

“I didn’t know you had a flair for dramatics.”

“You don’t know me well enough!” you laughed.

“Charlie?” a voice rang suddenly from the corner. “Is that you?”

Both of you whipped around.

It was Molly Weasley. Oh, you know, no other than Charlie’s mum.

Molly nearly dropped her woven baskets full of groceries at the sight of well, firstly, her son who was back home once a year if she was lucky. And secondly, you imagined at the shock of the two of you holding hands.

You quickly removed your hand from Charlie’s. Now your expression really read like you’d been caught in this imaginary romp in the sheets.

“What are you doing back in England?” Molly asked, bringing her son in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She cupped his face and gave it two firm pats, trying to ascertain that Charlie was real and not some apparition.

“Apparently, you can’t bank vacation for ten years straight,” he said. A blotch of red was forming on his cheeks from Molly’s hand. “Pretty ridiculous, I reckon—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” Molly then demanded. “I could’ve prepared properly for you. A proper room, a proper meal.”

Charlie jolted. “I didn’t know until two days ago, I promise, mum. I’ve been on a train for the past day. I’ve barely slept all of last night.”

“Well, you’re just in time for a big lunch.” Molly looked at you. “(Y/N), dear,” she said, her voice much sweeter with you. “So lovely to see you, too.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Weasley,” you responded.

“(Y/N), won’t you join us for lunch as well?” Molly hummed. Then she turned back to Charlie. “Charlie, you’ll be elated to know that Bill is home, too.”

You could never refuse Molly. You also weren’t in a rush to get home, knowing your father may be there, ready to have an argument about the scene you caused at Cauco. And the guilt was starting to settle in, so you shook it off with a nod towards Molly.

As the three of you walked up the grassy hill that led up to the Burrow, Charlie pestered Molly over the validity of her statement about Bill’s being home. “Is he really? You’re joking me, surely.”

“Why would I ever joke about that?” Molly asked. “You know I’ve always asked you to come home more often.”

Charlie groaned as he opened the door to his childhood home. “I should’ve brought home more Romanian parchment for him.”

“Why Romanian parchment?” you asked.

“It’s lighter and less resistant to tearing and burning. Easier for him to carry during expeditions and less to worry about goblins burning them.”

“I’m sure that’s the last thing on his mind right now,” Molly hummed. “But I shouldn’t spoil what your brother is going to tell you, no, I shouldn’t...” She seemed to be fighting with her own morals as she entered the house.

“Good,” Charlie said as he let out a sigh of relief. “But now I should’ve bugged him for more Egyptian hide.” He pulled the hem of your jacket. “If I was wearing that instead of this jacket, my pocket would’ve lived to see the tale.”

“Is that yours, Charlie?” Molly asked. “I should’ve known, seeing as it’s so tattered up. But nothing I can’t fix.”

“You’ll have to fix (Y/N) up, too. I spilled coffee on her,” Charlie admitted sheepishly.

“Of course, I’ll tend to you, dear, in just a moment…” Molly unloaded her baskets on the counter, eyeing her assortment of meats, cheeses, vegetables, and breads. “Let me get the stew going first. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.”

As Molly worked, you peered around the house. You’d been here many times throughout your school years and knew every nook and cranny. Though, you were always cooking things up with Fred and George in their room upstairs. You’d met Percy, Ron, and Ginny but never overlapped much with Charlie or Bill. Regardless, you’d always appreciated how inviting it was compared to your abode located upstate. Every bit of you felt warm from the sun seeping through the windows. In the house, things were stuffed to the brim until it was precariously close to exploding: books on the bookshelf, mugs in the cabinet, non-perishables in the pantry, spare blankets in the closet. And even though the Burrow was enclosed by farmland, Molly and Arthur were very friendly with the neighbours. You barely knew yours.

You were about to ask Molly if you could offer any assistance when you were interrupted by footsteps.

“Bill!” Charlie recognized his brother immediately.

“Charlie?” Bill said. No sooner, he’d jumped down the last two steps and enveloped his younger brother in a hug that almost toppled him over. “What are you doing back in England?”

“It’s a long story,” Charlie said. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Bill started, trying to conceal a grin. He reached out for Fleur’s hand as she came down the steps behind him. “Fleur is expecting. We’re due in the next month or so.”

“What?” Charlie exclaimed. “Already?”

“What do you mean ‘already’?” Molly scolded suddenly from behind him. “It’s about time you settled down as well, Charles Weasley. You should consider staying put for once. I pray you won’t jostle your wife around like you do yourself—”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Charlie whispered to you before getting dragged off by Molly. Bill followed him into the kitchen.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Fleur said as she came down the last step. Despite being heavily pregnant, she was more than graceful.

“Hello, Fleur,” you responded. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said, a proud smile on her face.

You waited awkwardly in the living room alone for a couple moments. You really wished Fred or George or both of them were here to give you someone to talk to. When Molly finished up giving orders to Bill and Charlie, you felt it appropriate to tiptoe into the kitchen.

“Hello (Y/N),” Bill was the first to notice you creeping in. “Long time no see.”

Bill, as you faintly remembered, was indeed the tallest of the bunch. He was fit but not as muscular as Charlie, if what you saw this morning was anything to go by. He was more laid-back as well, and less prone to making remarks that would receive a scolding from Molly.

“Indeed!” you responded, feeling more at ease. “And congratulations on the baby.”

“Thank you.” A smile broke out on Bill’s face. He was radiant, his blue eyes crinkling from his smile. His face wasn’t as angular and defined as Charlie’s but he was very handsome in a more boyish way.

“I didn’t expect you to be here, you’re usually with Fred and George,” Bill said as if reading your mind. “Do you have some news of your own you want to share with me?”

You gave him a puzzled look.

“Mum told me she saw you and Charlie holding hands this morning, after your date,” Bill whispered, glancing slyly at Charlie. “I didn’t know that you were together. Charlie writes to me about everything. Apparently he left out an important chunk.”

Oh. Your date. “Oh, I’m not sure I—”

“That’s okay, I won’t press you. I’ll just ask Charlie,” Bill said, letting you off the hook. You breathed an internal sigh of relief. “He’s a tough read is all I’ll say. He dilly-dallys around a lot, especially around women.”

“Does he?” you said with a laugh. You thought of Charlie’s words to you earlier in the day.

“One day, he’s saying he’s met this girl. Next week, he’s in love. Then, he wants to propose, and before I know it, I’m standing at the altar.”

Right, Bill wasted no time. Conversely, Charlie denied he was the same.

Bill smiled. “I reckon so. But it’s no doubt you were able to read through him. You’ve always been smart.”

Your words caught at Bill’s sudden compliment. “Thank you, Bill. But I’m really not.”

“Come on, it was one class almost ten years ago,” Bill said with a teasing grin. “Nothing to beat yourself up over.”

“How do you know?” you asked, your cheeks heated. You’d never overlapped schooling with Bill and yet he knew about—

“Fred told everyone about the cursed elective the three of you took.”

You groaned. You were going to give Fred a piece of your mind next time you saw him.

“Bill, could you be a dear and call Fred and George over for lunch?” Molly called from the windowsill. She barely looked up at the stew she was seasoning. “I’m sure they can afford an hour for lunch now that their busy season is over.”

“Sure thing,” Bill acquiesced, throwing down the dishcloth. “I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)."

Molly replaced Bill’s spot in front of you and took you by the arm. “Now, follow me upstairs and let’s get you fixed up. I told Charlie he’s going to have to be more careful around you.”

In an hour, lunch rolled around and so did Fred and George who got a scolding for apparating right into the home. You learned that Fred’s imitation of Molly wasn’t far off.

“What are you still doing here?” Fred asked with a genuine look of surprise on his face.

“I’m not sure, Molly asked if I wanted to come for lunch.”

“How did this chance occurrence happen?”

“We bumped into her at Diagon Alley.”

Fred wiggled his eyebrows. “We?”

You shrugged.

Thankfully, you were ushered to the table before Fred could pester you anymore. Bill sat with Fleur, Fred with George, you and Charlie, and Molly at the end. The bread basket perched in the centre was bigger than your head.

“So, Charlie, dear,” Molly started. “What brings you back home?”

“Well,” Charlie responded. “As I was saying earlier—”

“Charlie’s going to meet (Y/N)’s parents next Saturday,” Fred added suddenly.

“You’re going to the Malfoy’s?” Bill asked, directing a look of surprise at Charlie. Molly followed suit.

You nearly sputtered into your stew. You hadn’t really discussed that nor had Charlie consented to it, at least not seriously. You figured he was just kidding about having dinner, and now that his appetite had been satiated, so was his curiosity.

“Sure am,” Charlie responded after a long swig of water. He didn’t skip a beat.

“You’ll have to find something suitable to wear,” Molly commented, looking Charlie up and down. Her inquisitive brown eyes narrowed at his dishevelled long hair and outfit that looked like he was going to bed rather than dinner. “I’m sure we can find something of your father’s or grandfather’s in the attic.”

“There goes the rest of my afternoon,” Charlie groaned loudly, much to Molly’s chagrin. Then, he leaned into you. “I hope you didn’t have plans for us, (Y/N).”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t think about taking you away from something so important.”

The rest of lunch was filled with questions about Bill and Fleur’s impending baby and Fred and George’s business. Luckily, no questions were thrown towards you and Charlie. You wouldn’t even know what to say. When lunch was over, Charlie was the first to excuse himself.

“That was a lovely lunch as always, mum,” Charlie said, getting up. “I’m going to unpack and maybe take a nap. It was a long journey from Romania.”

As he began to head up the stairs, Molly piped up: “Be sure to use Ginny’s room.”

Charlie descended a step back. “What about mine?”

“It’s under renovation.”

“You remodelled my room?” Charlie cried.

“As a temporary nursery. You can obviously still stay in the guest room the duration of time you’re here,” Molly clarified.

“I won’t even fit into Ginny’s room, let alone the bed. And are the walls still pink?”

“Well, a fair warning that you’d be coming back would’ve been sufficient,” Molly said. “Bill was first to tell me that he and Fleur wanted to move back in for the duration of her pregnancy.”

“But why mine? Why not remodel Ginny’s room as the nursery?”

“Because yours is closest to Bill’s room,” Molly explained. “It provides easier access to the baby.”

“You can always stay with us, Charles darling,” Fred suggested, a grin dancing on his face. “We have a spare room in our flat that’s gone unused for some reason.”

“I’ll consider it as my dead last option,” Charlie said with a shudder. He jumped back on the first floor and ran past Fred, but not before commenting: “There are a million people I’d rather live with before I’d live with you.”

After Charlie left to unpack, Fred and George followed suit to reopen the shop. You lingered around the house for a while longer, offering to help with the dishes which was promptly refused. Instead, Molly gave you a tour of the new nursery, her eyes brimming with pride at her handiwork. And it really was a lovely room with white, flowy curtains billowing in the wind, a vintage wooden cot, and tons of hand sewn blankets and plush toys. You were glad she was so preoccupied with the baby and showing you around that she wasn’t asking about Charlie.

“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Weasley,” you said, admiring the stitching on the curtains. “Bill and Fleur are lucky to have you alongside them.”

Molly placed a hand on her hip. “You know, dear, I would do it for any child of mine and their partner.”

You eked out a smile in response. You sure hoped she wasn’t insinuating anything about you.

When you went downstairs, you decided it was proper for you to excuse yourself and head home. It was nearing three in the afternoon and you couldn’t believe how the hours just flew by. Before you left, you went to Ginny’s old room and knocked on the ajar door.

“Come in,” Charlie said.

You stepped in slowly. Charlie was unfolding his clothes on Ginny’s old bed. He towered over the frame, and he’d be lucky if he could stretch out his legs tonight. Luckily for him, the walls were now a muted pink, not the bright shade they were years ago.

“I’m about to leave,” you said. “I just wanted to apologise for today before I go. I’m sorry you got caught up in things.”

Charlie cocked an eyebrow. “What’s there to apologise for?”

“The whole debacle with my father,” you clarified. “I never meant to get you involved. I don’t think well at the crux of an argument.”

“Why shouldn’t I be involved?”

Did Charlie sound offended?

“You want to be?”

“(Y/N),” Charlie said with a chuckle. “I’m always hungry. I’ll be there for the meal if not for the entertainment, or world-class Malfoy hospitality.”

“Are you serious?” you asked. “Because you understand what the deal was right? We’d have to be…” You bit your lip. You didn’t want to finish the sentence.

“Like we’re dating? Was that so hard to get out now?” Charlie laughed, leaning in closer to you until he was a few inches from you. “I mean, you’re meeting my mum.”

“I’ve already met her, many times over,” you huffed. “And on that topic, don’t you think it’s wrong to lead her on like that?”

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t lecture me about ethics. You’re the one who just tried to swindle your father in public.”

You turned red. “My prospects were looking terrible.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding,” Charlie said. “I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“Alright”—you eyed him suspiciously—“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll send you an owl.”

“You know exactly where I’ll be,” Charlie confirmed.

Before you turned away to leave, a sudden thought came to mind. “Charlie, wait. You never told me. Why are you back in England?”

“I really was banking up too much vacation,” he confessed, airing out a rolled t-shirt. “I was strong-armed into taking it, so I chose the off-season.”

“What are you going to do at home?”

He hummed. “I was cordially invited to be a guest professor at Hogwarts two days a week, depending on how often they need me.”

“That is splendid for you,” you said, eyes brightening. “Which classes will be taking over?”

“Just Care of Magical Creatures for now”—he turned fully to you—“I reckon I could sneak in a few dragons for the kids.”

“You wouldn’t,” you warned. “You were Head Boy, you knew the rules.”

“Try me, Headmaster Malfoy.”

He held your gaze, intense blue eyes locking with yours and a smirk rising on his face. For the briefest of moments, you felt a shudder course through your body. He wasn’t being suggestive, you had to remind yourself. Charlie was just more intense and smouldering than his brothers—

Wait, did you just use the word smouldering to describe Charlie? The Charlie Weasley you’d really just met six hours ago? You scolded yourself. You had to focus on the issue at hand.

“I’ll try to wrangle a way out of dinner regardless,” you affirmed. “I have to free you up for your duties as a professor.”

He broke his gaze. “Let me know if you’re successful,” Charlie said with a laugh. “Catch you later, (Y/N).”

>> NEXT CHAPTER

<;< CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x oc

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pearbunny · 2 months

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the bucket list ✘ [thirteen]

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summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was.

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, fluff, angst, comfort, eventual smut.

general warnings: tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, mentions of death in later chapters.

word count: 5.5k

chapter content: bittersweet. everything is bitter sweet. extremely brief mention of deceased loved ones. mc and jisung go to an aquarium! angst hidden behind fluff! Conversation about fate/destiny, inyeon.

You move slowly as you start to repack your luggage for the trip back home. You’re a little tired from the dinner party last night which is why you’re taking your time with the task, but in reality it’s because the whole thing is kind of saddening. As you place your clothes in your packing cubes, you set aside the clothes you plan to wear on the plane tomorrow morning.

Jisung knocks on the doorframe, peeking his head in. “Need any help?”

You give him a small chuckle, looking up at him from your spot in the middle of the floor. “You don’t have to knock, it’s your room.”

Jisung enters the room and sits on his bed, moving aside the clothes you laid out. “Well, what if you were indecent or something?” The tiniest smirk plays at his lips, finding his own joke oh-so-hilarious.

With a deadpan stare, you playfully ball up a shirt and throw it at him, “Oh, like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

Jisung laughs and catches the shirt, folding it neatly and setting it aside soon after. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” Your eyes drift back to your suitcase and your hands go back to folding items to pack. “I mean, I do know. I don’t wanna go back home.” You chuckle sadly, shrugging your shoulders in defeat.

Jisung looks at you with a small smile on his lips. He doesn’t want you to go home either; he wants to say, ‘then don’t’, but he doesn’t need to. You know that's what he wants to say, and you both know that he can’t say it. Instead, he leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer to you. “Well, you’re still here, so let’s not waste it, yeah?”

You match his smile and nod your head, placing your hands in your lap. “Okay, yeah. Can we…” You pause and think about your bucket list. When you remember a specific to-do list item, your smile wides and you release a small giggle. “Can we find a fountain to make a wish at?”

“Yes, let's make a date of it.” Jisung places his hands on his thighs, bracing himself as he pushes himself off the bed. He takes a step towards your sitting form and extends both hands to you, palms up.

You place your hands in his with a large smile on your face, eyes soft as you look up at him. Your head had been swimming in circles, thinking about your flight home, leaving Korea behind, leaving Jisung behind, but now, you’re relieved, choosing to only worry and think about today, not the flight home tomorrow morning.

“So,” You pause your speech to squeeze Jisung’s hand, fingers laced with yours. The date was planned loosely, both of you decided to take advantage of the beautiful day, opting to set aside the car for a nice walk.

You wore a flowy white midi-skirt with a slightly oversized graphic white tee-shirt, tied to be cropped and cinched at your waist. Your hair up in a messy bun with a claw clip, a canvas tote bag hanging on your shoulder carrying not only your essentials, but a light brown knit cardigan just in case it got cold in the evening.

Jisung wore an open, unbuttoned khaki collared shirt, a loose white tee underneath, with black linen slacks, cuffed at the ankles. A simple casio watch on his wrist, a silver ring on his index finger, and a small pendant-free chain around his neck. Both of you had on some white old beaten up sneakers, deciding to err on the side of comfort for the last day.

“So?” Jisung starts to swing your linked hands together, looking at you with a gummy bright smile.

“Where are we going?” You both come to a stop at the corner of the street, a small crowd of people joining you to wait for the pedestrian light.

“Well, after food, I wanted to take you to the aquarium,” Jisung shrugs nonchalantly, as if there was no pressure into the situation. You, however, knew how much Jisung loved animals through the little facts he would sprinkle into your conversations, the books on his shelf about animals, the small wolf figurine on his desk. Maybe it didn’t mean much to him, but you were thankful that he was willing to share this time and hobby with you.

When you and Jisung finish at a small Japanese restaurant, you quickly find that this place was one of his favorite places to visit. The owner knew him by name and not only did Jisung have a regular order that the waitress knew by heart, but even gave the both of you the opportunity to try out an off the menu item that they were working on. Needless to say, you both left with full stomachs and happy grins on your faces.

“Do you take all of your lady friends there, Jisung?” You rest your hand on your full and round stomach, savoring the Japanese curry bowl you had.

Jisung laughs and gives you a raised brow, “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

You eye him with a playful smile, “Well, seemed like they were really talking you up in there.”

Jisung laughs louder, taking a step close to you and nudging your shoulder gently. “Maybe because I’m just a nice customer!”

“M’hmm,” You link your arm with Jisung’s, letting him lead you to your next destination. You’re not sure what comes over you, maybe it’s a slight bit of hypothetical jealousy thinking about the possibility of Jisung bringing his past love interests to the places he’s shown you. “Have you had a lot of girlfriends?”

Jisung chuckles, rolling his eyes while he looks ahead. “No. Not at all.”

You almost scoff, “You don’t have to lie, Ji.”

“I’m not lying. I know I seem like it, but I don’t actually have the best luck in the dating department.” Jisung bites the inside of his cheek, a little ashamed.

“What? Really?” That was hard for you to believe, especially since from what Jisung has shown you, he’s been an extremely sweet, smooth, empathetic person. There’s no way people weren’t waiting in line to date him.

“Yeah,” He pauses, lips forming a thin line as he tries his best to explain, “A lot of the flirting is just surface level. You tell them what a person wants to hear, inflate their ego a little bit.”

You swat at his arm gently.

He laughs and rubs at the sore spot dramatically. “But I don’t usually connect with people beyond that. Sharing feelings, holding hands, kissing… It all makes me nervous. I start to get in my head.”

”You don’t seem to have any problems doing that stuff with me.”

“Well,” Jisung unlinks your arms and instead, holds your hand, bringing the inside of your wrist up to his lips for a chaste yet sweet kiss, “That’s because you’re different.”

You try to fight the blush that forms on your cheeks; the bubbly feeling in the pit of your stomach that slowly climbs up into your lungs to make you feel like you’re floating on air. You know what that feeling is and you know that feeling isn't productive, not when you’ll be on a plane home tomorrow morning.

In an attempt to change the subject, you look around to find that you were in front of a convenience store with little machines for kids to either win or buy toys from. You pointed at one specifically, filled with small plastic containers with red caps on them, little prizes or toys inside. “Look, Ji. I used to bother my mom for money to get a ring from these vending machines when I was younger.”

You crouch down, balancing yourself on the balls of your foot, trying to get a better look at the toys inside.

Jisung watches over you with a smile on his lips. He shoves his hand in his pocket, finding some loose change from the lunch you shared. Crouching next to you, he places a coin into the slot, hand on the knob. He’s about to turn it, but pauses to look at you, “Which one do you want?”

You reposition yourself multiple times, trying to get a real good look at the variety of rings. There are a couple of heart shaped ones, mostly in pink or red, the usual ones that mimic large oval and teardrop shaped diamonds and gemstones, but there are also fun ones in the shape of stars and shells, even a rainbow. Then, you point at one in particular. “I really like that one!”

Jisung looks at it and nods, “Okay, here’s hoping that’s the one we get.” With a turn of the knob and a cranking sound, the coin disappears and out of the machine comes a plastic capsule. Jisung maneuvers both himself and his hands to cover up the ring inside, causing you to laugh and shake his shoulders gently. Dramatically, Jisung gasps, taking a peek at the toy ring.

“What? Which one did you get!”

You watch Jisung’s face drop, his brows furrowing, creating a crease on his forehead. He frowns, lips in a tight line. “Show me, Ji!” You don’t really care if it was the one you wanted, all of the rings were really cute, you just wanted to know which one he got.

Playfully, you poke at his side, trying to get him to turn around to show you. He tsks at you which makes you a little upset. You stand up and cross your arms, tapping your foot. “Han Jisung!”

Jisung laughs and rolls his eyes at your impatience. He turns around to face you, this time on one knee. He laughs nervously, taking the ring in his hand, showing it to you. “Y/N, Marry me?”

“W–what?” You’re completely taken aback. The confusion on your face is so apparent that Jisung’s nervous laugh turns into a full grown fit, laughing from his chest with his head thrown back. Your palms start to sweat as he continues to laugh, you uncross your arms and subconsciously, you rub your hands on the front of your skirt.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he sticks his hand out with the ring towards you. “Seungmin said we should get married so you could stay in Korea with us.”

‘Me’, he means. He wants you to stay with him. Staying with Seungmin and the rest of them was just a fun addition.

“And it's the ring you wanted, so.. Maybe it’s a sign.”

You finally look at the ring and it is the ring you were hoping to get. It was a plastic light blue gem in the shape of a bear, the cuts in it making it shine brilliantly as if it were made from a real gem stone. In the center around its neck was a small chrome pink ribbon.

Jisung holds his hand out towards you and you place your left hand in his, allowing him to slip the ring on to your ring finger. He struggles gliding it on and you laugh together when it is sufficiently stuck on the knuckle. Jisung takes it off your finger and resizes it, pulling apart the shiny plastic ring ever so slightly. “Good thing these are adjustable.” He slips it back on to your finger and it's a perfect fit.

You admire the adorable little ring on your hand, smiling to yourself at how ridiculous it all was while Jisung stands back up from his knee, dusting himself off. Your eyes dart back to the stand of toy vending machines, looking for a ring for him as well. “I got to get you one, too!”

Jisung raises a brow, “No you don’t. Men don’t get engagement rings.”

You scan the different machines, getting a good look of the different toys inside. Some had stickers, others had toy cars and little baby figurines. When you find one, you point at it, turning to Jisung behind you, “You’re telling me you don’t want this really cool dinosaur ring?”

Jisung quickly goes to the machine you’re at, looking over the options. He nods his head once, as if this is the most serious matter to him. “Okay. You’ve won me over. I want an engagement ring, too.”

You laugh and hold out your hand to him, looking for another coin. Jisung’s eyes go wide, appalled. “I’m paying for my engagement ring?”

“Do you want the dinosaur ring or not?”

With a melodramatic huff, Jisung shoves his hand in his pocket and takes out a coin, placing it in your open palm. You put the coin into the machine and crank the knob,a clicking-like sound coming from the machine until the ring comes out. You uncap the small plastic capsule and show him the ring inside, a large green squishy dinosaur with a long neck and tail on a plastic metal adjustable ring. “It’s a brontosaurus!”

Jisung laughs at you and takes the ring, placing it on his finger. “It’s actually not a brontosaurus.”

You take his hand as he shows it to you, staring at the dinosaur. “It’s not?”

With a shake of his head, he adjusts the ring so that the green dinosaur sits straight, “Those don’t technically exist. Well, they exist, but that’s not what they’re called. They’re called Apatosauruses.”

When Jisung flips his hand over in the air so that his palm faces downward towards the ground, fingers stretched out, you bring your hand up to his, placing your palms together. Easily, Jisung closes his fingers around your hand and leads you forward. With a beaming smile, you look up at him, squirting your eyes a little in curiosity, “Jisung, tell me; were you a dinosaur boy growing up?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. Definitely more dinosaurs than cars.”

After a bit of walking, you find yourselves in a busier area, shops and fun cafe’s lining the wider street. One in particular captures your eye. “Jisung, you know how couples have photoshoots?”

Jisung nods his eyes, taking his phone out to look at the directions to the aquarium again. “Yeah, they’re kinda’ corny, to be honest.”

“Oh,” You try to fight the pout forming on your lips.

When Jisung looks up from his phone, he notices the change in your mood, eyebrows shooting up in panic. “I – I mean, they’re not something I would do normally! I just feel super awkward taking photos, that’s all.”

“Well,” You tug his hand and his attention towards the photobooth studio down the street, “Would you at least humor me for today?”

“For you?” Jisung leads the way to the shop, “Anything.” He laughs a little as you make your way through the doors, “And it’s only a photo booth. We’ve done this before, I thought you were going to make me stand in front of someone with a camera!”

You laugh at his ramblings, imagining how nervous and awkward Jisung would be in front of a professional camera. Inside, you’re elated as Jisung talks to the worker. Looking around, you notice that everything is pretty self-serving. There were a couple of very large photo booths with a plain backdrop and shelves and buckets filled with accessories.

When Jisung comes back, he guides you to the booth all the way in the back. You slip in with him behind the light blue curtain and you quickly scan through the different templates and frames of the picture strips. Jisung stops you at a certain one, “What about ‘2Gether 4 Ever’?”

You look up to find that Jisung’s head is hovering right over your shoulder and the proximity is both comfortable and nerve-racking; comfortable because at this point in your… whatever-it-was with Jisung, his whole presence is something you seek, something you expect – never too far away –, but nerve-racking, because it felt like today, every single word, every movement, gesture, moment, is hanging over your heads, everything was comicotragic.

Is the universe playing a sick prank on you?

So much for focusing on just today. You couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t escape tomorrow.

Jisung’s eyes mimic your own, a little bit of mirth, hope, but also that tinge of sadness.

“Yeah,” You speak before you can even process what you’re saying, “That’s perfect.”

Before you’re ready, the large countdown on the preview screen in front of you starts and you panic, opting for your default pose which consists of a peace sign by your face. Jisung, behind you, has a similar pose: He leans over you slightly, placing a peace sign above your head with one hand, the other hand poking at the side of your cheek. It snaps the picture.

You smile brightly, turning your head around to him. Quickly, he loops an arm around your waist, bringing you close to him, leaning his weight into you. As you lean to the side under his weight, he holds you up. “Hey, we’re engaged, you gotta show off your ring!”

You laugh and do so, bringing your hand forward into the view of the camera. Jisung mimics you and the camera snaps again, taking a picture of Jisung and you close together with your shiny toy bear ring and his rubber dinosaur ring in front of you.

The screen blinks in front of you and the countdown for the next picture starts. “Two more!”

“Come here,” Jisung turns you around, and places his hands at the small of your back, pulling you close.

You push your palms against his chest, trying to create space but it’s no use. “Jisung?”

The picture snaps and the automated voice of the photo booth lets you know that it’s going to take the final picture.

Jisung’s lips tug into a smirk as he leans in closer, “Just kiss me. Please?”

Truthfully, you’re not into public displays of affection like this. Holding hands and hugging was probably the extent of affection you were okay to show to the world. Jisung, however, is not afraid to show how much he cares about you.

“What, I can’t kiss my fiancee?” He repeats with a small laugh.

One look at him with that sly smirk on his face was all it took for you to tilt your head up to meet his lips with yours. Your hands go to his jaw, giving you more purchase for the kiss. Even after the camera takes the final picture and it starts to print out the photo strips, you're left in the tender kiss.

When you finally pull a part, you’re breathless.

Both you and Jisung are all smiles, pressing your foreheads together. You hold his gaze for just a moment longer before you tear away from him to get her the photo strip. With a bite of his lip, he follows after you.

“Ji, these are cute!” You show him the photo strips, that smile still plastered on your face.

He takes them in his hand, tracing a finger of the last pose. “Oh, honey. We already look happily married.” He brings you into his side by your waist and your grin grows wider.

“We do, don’t we?” You take the pictures and place them into your tri-fold wallet to keep it safe from wrinkles and creases before tossing it into your bag.

At the aquarium, you and Jisung took your time going through all of the many exhibits, from bay aquatics to tropical and reef fish. Jisung would sprinkle in some interesting facts that he learned from watching an animal documentary or even from the lid of a snapple bottle.

The whole time, you held hands. When he would point to things close, he would use his free hand to place the pad of his finger gently on the glass – he told you it was inhumane to tap on it, ‘Have you seen Finding Nemo?’, he said – whenever he would point out something in a tank. When he would notice something across the room or hall, he would point with the hand that held yours, index finger pointed in that direction with the rest of his fingers wrapped snugly around your hand.

Now, you’re in the main hall, looking at a map of the place on the wall. “Jisung, I want to see the jellyfish.”

“Jellyfish, got it.” Jisung’s finger grazes over the map from your current location to the back of the building. He nods to himself and then points with your hands together towards the right maze of hallways. “That way.” While the both of you walk towards the jellyfish exhibit, Jisung’s eyes stay on the map just a little bit longer, committing the next place that you would go to memory.

The exhibit hall you walk into is dimly lit, the low light coming from the tanks of jellyfish itself, the soft sound of waves crashing playing over the speakers in the room. Jisung guides you to the first tank, recessed into the wall. Your eyes go wide, filled with wonder. While other aquarium visitors would stop and observe the tank and leave shortly after, Jisung and you stayed longer.

“Do you like jellyfish?” Jisung’s voice is low, but loud enough for you to hear over the calming waves.

“I do, they look so… easygoing.” You go to the next window, watching the plump jellyfish swim across the tank.

Jisung moves his finger along the glass with it. “These are the Japanese Sea Nettle jellyfish.” His finger traces the long tentacles, dragging it down the glass. The orange color of the jellyfish is a beautiful contrast against the blue of the tank. The corners of his lips tug upwards in a smile so wide it reaches his eyes, “Jellyfish are 95% water, that’s why they look so different out of it. I also think that’s why they’re super interesting to watch swim. They look like they’re floating.” He laughs nervously at himself, “Well, I mean they are floating.”

You laugh with him, tugging him towards the large cylindrical tank in the middle of the room, “No, I get it. It looks like they’re weightless.”

The tank in the middle goes from floor to ceiling and is filled with lots of jellyfish, a type that’s smaller than the Japanese Sea Nettle. The lights at the bottom of the tank change color every so often, the current purple hue casting a purple glow on the nearly translucent jellyfish.

You stand in front of the tank, watching as the glow shifts into a cool blue. “These are my favorite ones.”

Jisung watches your face and admires the way you look at the jellyfish. Your eyes are wide, lips in a small smile, head tilted to the side. The jellyfish and tank are reflected in your eyes and as the light changes to red, he has to tear his eyes away from you. In a quick recovery, he clears his throat. “These are moon jellyfish. They’ve got a really round and big bell compared to their tentacles.”

You glance at Jisung briefly from the corner of your eyes and notice how his eyes move as they trace the jellyfish’ movement. “Do you know why I like jellyfish so much?”

Of course he didn’t, but he doesn’t say anything and instead waits for you to answer.

“I just imagine their life of floating in the ocean, going in whatever way the water takes them. I’m a little jealous of them, really.”

Jisung looks back at you and pulls you to him. He settles you in front of him as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing his cheek against the side of your head.

Once you’ve stayed for a full cycle of the color changes, Jisung whispers against your ear, “Y/N, are you ready to go to the next exhibit?”

You nod and he retakes your hand in his and leads you out into the hallway.

“These are some of my favorite animals here.” Jisung walks backwards as he leads you into the room.

The smell is really strong and frankly kind of stinky, but you get over it once you realize that you’re looking at penguins through a glass. There’s many of them, some diving in the water, others just standing on the platform meant to resemble a rock with their flipper-like wings at their sides.

You’re not as close as you want to be, children sitting in rows in front of the large glass window. Soon, the kids stand, getting closer just as the penguins crowd around the door to the exhibit where you assume the employees enter. Sure enough, someone comes through the door with a large bucket of fish. You clap and laugh along with the other visitors as the penguins gather around for their meal time.

You take a seat on a bench, still watching the penguins. The kids file out, someone on the intercom attracting their attention when they announced a tidal pool exhibit where they could touch starfish.

As the penguins finish their meals and the employee leaves through the door, the penguins go about their regular business. You notice two standing close to each other on the rock, one nudging the other with its head.

“Those two remind me of us.” You point at the two birds before zooming in with the camera of your phone and taking a picture. After a couple of pictures, you place your phone on your lap. “Here’s my animal fact,” You giggle. Not only is the possibility of Jisung’s habits rubbing off on you amusing, but you’re a little excited that you could share a fact with him for once. “Many different species of penguins will only have one mate for the rest of their life.” You take his hand back in yours again, the brief moment without it made you miss the warmth he radiated.

Jisung stares forward, though his eyes look a little distant. His smile is lopsided, a reflection of how bittersweet this whole day is.

He doesn’t tell you, but he already knew that fact. He wonders silently if you’ve heard the story about a group of three penguins. Two were mates and the third was a female penguin attracted to the male penguin. Eventually, the male’s mate passes away and although that made him available to love the third penguin, he passed away from the grief of losing his soulmate.

“Y/N, do you know what inyeon is?”

You turn your head to him and notice his far-off stare. “No, what is inyeon?” You speak slowly, doing your best to imitate the way he said the word, clearly a foreign word to you, never once hearing of it or speaking it.

Absent-mindedly, he runs a thumb over your knuckles. “It’s silly, really. Koreans believe in the idea that certain people are meant for each other, but that it could take thousands of lifetimes to get it right. Maybe the penguins got it right this time, like this is the lifetime where everything aligned.”

“Hm,” You take a beat to reflect on his words. “Like fate. Destiny.” The more you think about it, the more you start to wonder: Who was that person for you? Would you know if that lifetime was the lifetime? Could this be your lifetime?

As you lean your head on Jisung’s shoulder, your phone vibrates in your lap. One glance at the notification of your flight convinces you that it’s not.

The night air is a little crisp when you walk out, your cardigan in your bag completely forgotten. Instead, Jisung’s body heat keeps you warm as you latch onto his arm. The pace of your walk is set slow, the lights from the lamps on the street and from inside buildings shining through their windows illuminating your walk.

“Where do you want to be in five years?” Jisung’s voice cuts through the bustling of the streets, the soft mumble of people talking on their own walks with friends and family.

The question catches you off guard. Where did you see yourself? Previously, you’d probably see yourself just doing what you always did: wake up, go to work, put just enough effort to maintain relationships with your friends, see your dad once a week. You look at Jisung. He smiles at you, no sign of judgment that would follow. That gives you enough assurance and courage to even just imagine something more for yourself.

That’s what Jisung has given to you.

So you let out a sigh and it’s not of frustration. No, instead it’s a sigh that sheds off your own fears and judgmental attitude about wanting more than what you previously had for yourself.

“I want to be happy.” Without knowing, you squeeze Jisung’s hand. “Maybe promoted at my job or at a better one.” You chuckle at the idea, instead of being behind a computer screen the whole time, maybe something more client facing, interacting with people. “A better relationship with my friends. More dinner parties with Robin and the girls.” You stop at an intersection and look up at Jisung. “What about you?”

Jisung smiles brightly. He’s thought about the question a lot and it’s something you admire about him. Through the challenges that life has thrown him, he was able to come out of it as a bright person.You smile back at him when you think about how his friend Chan would be happy to see him now.

“Happy. Successful.” He laughs at how arrogant he comes off with that sentence. “I hope in five years I’m able to share my music with people”

You interrupt him, excited while you step off the curb into the street when it is safe. “You will! You need to let the world hear your music, Jisung. It’s incredible.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders modestly. “I would love to see Loud Mouths continuing to do well. I mean, we’re doing great now, but imagine another Loud Mouths somewhere outside of Korea. We’ve been talking about partnerships and collaborations with other restaurants, like showcasing baked goods from Seungmin’s cafe during our brunch hours. I hope the place gets big enough that we can help smaller local companies out like that.”

Jisung stops and that’s when you realize that you’re in front of a fountain. The water trickling sounds calm and serene in the middle of the city. The lights on the ground and in the fountain showcase the area beautifully.

He comes up behind you and takes a coin out from his pocket, similar to how he did earlier in the day. He places it in front of your face and you take it into your palm, squeezing it with one hand over the other tightly. “Go ahead, Toss a Coin and Make a Wish.”

As you close your eyes, Jisung steps back to give you the space and breathing room. You think about all the major events that have happened in your life; both the good and the bad. You’re reminded of both of your parents. You recall your mother’s beautiful smile, her radiant energy and how truly, all she wanted for you was to be safe and happy. Something that your dad always wishes for you. It took awhile for your relationship with your dad to get to where it is now, and you have no doubt that it will continue to get better. That same sentiment is shared by Robin – who you cannot thank enough for being so patient and having so much faith in you, even when you probably weren’t the best friend you could be.

Safe and happy. You wonder for a moment what that looks like.

A smile stretches your lips.

Safe and happy looks like right now. This day. With Jisung.

You open your eyes and toss the coin into the fountain. In lands with a plop and a small splash.

You turn your body towards Jisung who on cue, makes his way back to be by your side, strong arms engulfing you in a warm and tight embrace. You lean into him as he cradles your body against him, gently rocking the both of you back and forth.

“I wished th–”

Jisung pulls apart, eyes wide in horror. “No, you can’t tell me. It won’t come true if you do.”

When Jisung looks down into your eyes, he notices the glassy reflection. Your eyes start to sting a little as tears start to pool. However; they don’t fall, a poetic testament to the balance that is how you’re feeling right now: both untroubled in his embrace and out of sorts with tomorrow’s departure from this dream land that you’ve lived for the past two weeks.

Jisung is right. Wishes don’t come true if you speak them out loud, but perhaps that’s why you say it. Your wish is so outlandish, so selfish, so fantasied that it didn’t matter if you said it loud.

“I wished that this day would never end.”

ending author’s notes: don't we all, mc. we're almost done here. i love and am welcomed to all feedback. see you guys next chapter ;)

taglist

@burningchaosdeer @bat-shark-repellant, @jisunglyricist, @captivq, @lixiel0ver, @channieandhisgoonsquad, @dalamjisung, @laylasbunbunny, @beanebabyy, @leyknowsbin, @vixensss, @hyunfilms, @cutiespaghetti, @hanjisunginc, @kubuwu, @raehawthorne, @leeknowyah, @lifeissteph, @thesunsfullmoon, @bbokari711, @sunnyhonie, @aalexyuuuhm, @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

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#han jisung fanfic #han jisung series #han series #han jisung smut #han fluff #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #stray kids series #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #skz series #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader

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emilykaldwen · 10 months

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THE MAIDEN AND THE DROWNING BOY is a House of the Dragon canon divergent fix-it trilogy with a HEA. Meshing both show and book canon, the story asks the question: How do you stop the cycles of abuse and generational trauma? In this universe, Aegon marries the youngest daughter of Lyonel Strong, the Lady Abrogail, who has grown up alongside him and his siblings. The story begins with the run up to their marriage in 125 AC, and follows Aegon and Abrogail as they figure out who they are and who they are together in the Riverlands, along with Aemond and Helaena in King's Landing, and to the dawn of the Dance of Dragons. Except the ending of the song is different this time.

pairings: aegon ii targaryen x oc, eventual jacaerys x helaena, other canon ships mentioned, other pairings to be announced warnings: child physical abuse, religious trauma, sexual shame and purity pushing, canon typical violence, canon typical attitudes, unpacking of previously stated sexual shame/purity for both male and female characters

This is not an anti/pro team black or green fic. I continue to do my best to approach all sides with nuance. There will be no bashing, nor will I accept any in the comments.

[this fic series will have three separate parts and maintains an 'at least once a month' posting schedule (due to life reasons)]

No Tag List. Follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications or subscribe on AO3.

AO3

Wattpad (for those who prefer to read there. Updates are not matched to AO3)

Fic Tag

Ship Tag

Abrogail Tag

Abrogail Epithet Gif Set

Arc One Promo Set

Aegon and Abby - A Soft Evening Commission by @winterofherdiscontent

Abrogail Commission by @astarionbae

Fanart/Content by others - If you made something for this fic, please @ me and tag #useremka

Abrogail Fanart by @selfproclaimedunicorn

Abrogail Fanart by @murmel-malt

Sunlight Gif Set by @dragonsbone

Vampire!Abby x Aegon fanart by @murmel-malt

Transformative Works Policy below the cut

Transformative Works Policy: I do not give my permission to have this work put into generative AI or cross-posted somewhere else under your name. If you are looking to translate my work, please contact me first. Translations are ONLY allowed on AO3 following their translation policy, or Ficbook. Podfic is also allowed as long as I am contacted first to discuss.

As of right now, @vampire-exgirlfriend and @selfproclaimedunicorn only have permission to utilize Abrogail Strong in their works. If you want to write something inspired by or utilize my OCs in any way, please reach out to me first.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #hotd oc #fyeahhotdocs #fyeahgotocs #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x ofc #aegon ii x oc #aegon targaryen fanfic #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy #oc: abrogail strong #aegon x abby #my fics

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wangxianficrecs · 6 months

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Threads of Love by OnlyMeAndMyBones

Threads of Love

by OnlyMeAndMyBones (@galexibrain)

M, WIP, 61k, Wangxian

Summary: Thirteen years ago, Lan Zhan came to Germany to study classical music and found his first true friend. Ten years ago he returned to Shanghai, heartbroken after a horrifying accident left Wei Ying with life-changing injuries and destroyed their friendship and budding romance. Today, he comes back to Germany - to teach, not to study. But when he and Wei Ying meet again by sheer chance, he realizes he has much to learn after all. (The main story is complete with chapter eight - additional oneshots may be added in the future) Kay's comments: This story is such a delight, because I love modern AUs but I'm so tired of modern AUs set in America. Instead, this story is set in Germany! It's also just a very lovely story that I really enjoyed a lot. There's many parallels to canon and Lexi wrote that the Golden Core transfer inspired this story, since the loss of a Golden Core can be seen as a disability. Wangxian here meet again after ten years apart, both struggling with different things and I really liked how they reconnected and Lan Wangji's POV was just a huge treat. Also a story for fans of Yunmeng Siblings love. Main story is complete, but marked as incomplete. Excerpt: The door opens. “Sorry for the delay I hope you didn’t wait too-” They stare at each other in shock, Lan Zhan and the man at the door. He has long hair, tied back with a crimson red scrunchie. He is wearing dark blue pants and a matching shirt with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. Lan Zhan still knows this face like his own. It has lost something of its adolescent softness over the past ten years but it retained a youthful glow, making the man look more like in his twenties than his early thirties. Doctor Vay is the first one to regain his speech. “Hello, Lan Zhan,” he whispers in Mandarin, looking down at the file lying in his lap and humming with distracted amusement. “Heh. Shawn Lan. I should have known.” Then, he comes in and closes the door behind him. Lan Zhan’s voice has left him. Suddenly he seems to have forgotten each of the languages he knows. His tongue is glued to his teeth and he knows he looks like a fool, standing there with his lips parted.

pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern no powers, disability, disabled character, disabled wei wuxian, angst with a happy ending, flashbacks, ableism, racism, medical procedures, lan wangji/wei wuxian get a happy ending, sharing a bed, doctor wei wuxian, musician lan wangji, teacher lan wangji, yunmeng siblings feels, good sibling jiang cheng, minor or backgroudn relationships, qin su/lan xichen, blood and injury

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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stargirlaveblog · 3 months

Text

7Seals

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Chapter 12

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•Previous Chapter: Chapter Eleven

•Next Chapter: Chapter Thirteen

• Chapter List

• New chapters every Thursday

•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!

• Word Count: 2.3k

• Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter.

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"When He opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, 'Come and see.' Another horse, fiery red, went out. And it was granted to the one who sat on it to take peace from the earth, and that people should kill one another; and there was given to him a great sword."

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Three Years Later

848

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The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows around my room as my knives chimed in a metallic duet. Outside, the night was draped in cold freckles of falling snow, the wind howling its melodic fury against the window.

Even with the clouds veiling the moon, its feeble light persisted, a reminder of the nights I yearned to spend on the roof, basking in her glow. Surviving these nights had become a silent victory, an unspoken conquest. The door creaked open, and boots scraped across the floorboards.

"Captain,"

“Iris.”

"What brings you here?" I asked, setting my knives aside. His unexpected entrance demanded my full attention.

"To check on you,"

"And how's that going for you?" I teased.

"Exactly how I thought," he grumbled. "We have an expedition tomorrow. Why aren't you sleeping?"

I shot back a playful grin, reveling in evident irritation.

"Well, look who's talking," I continued to teased, a big smile lighting up my face.

The man who never sleeps wants to chastise me for staying up?

"Not the point," he muttered, clearly frustrated. "We made a deal."

I leaned back, crossing my arms.

"You proposed a deal. I merely lent my ears," I retorted, my sass oozing.

Another audible exhale escaped Levi's lips as he paced like a caged titan.

"You need your rest for tomorrow. It's going to be a brutal expedition, and I don't need you distracted."

I couldn't resist the chance to tease him further.

"Awe, Captain," I cooed mockingly. "It's almost like you actually care for me?"

"Shut up," he groaned, clearly unamused. "If you get hurt, that's more paperwork for me. Which means stable duty for you."

Propping my feet up on the desk, I scoffed at the notion.

"We both know I don't do that type of labor," I asserted.

Levi's raised eyebrow hinted at a challenge.

"Oh? Really?"

"Absolutely," I insisted, punctuating my point with a fake yawn and a stretch. "Now, is that all you came for? You're disrupting my sleep schedule, Captain."

With an eye roll, he headed for the door, leaving me to relish alone in our chaotic conversation.

"Don't be late," he grumbled.

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"You're late."

I taunted the Captain as he sauntered into the stables. His gaze could slay a titan, but I grinned back, undeterred.

"Save it," he grunted, clearly not in the mood for my morning banter. Not that he ever was. Mornings and Levi – a match made in grumpiness.

Petra, always the dutiful soldier, handed him a canister. His reaction spoke volumes, a subtle acknowledgment of something he enjoyed. The aroma wafting from the canister hinted at it being tea.

"What's this?" Levi inquired, sniffing it with a barely perceptible smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey!" Oluo interjected, a pout on his face. "Where's my tea?"

"In the captain's hands," I laughed, already mounted on my horse.

"Come on. Let's go. Erwin and the others are waiting for us," Levi ordered, mounting his beautiful blood bay steed with practiced ease.

"Hey, Capt?" Oluo persisted, the perpetual chatterbox. "Can we just call off today's expedition? It's kinda chilly out."

"Oluo," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Shut up. All you do is yap."

"I wasn't talking to you," he sassed back.

"I was talking to the Captain."

Levi brushed off Oluo's incessant chatter, a skill we all honed over time. I could sense his annoyance – who wouldn't be irritated by Oluo's yapping?

"The Captain obviously doesn't care," I quipped, earning a silent nod from Levi.

"You don't know what you're-" Oluo began, but the sharp pain from a bitten tongue cut him short. I shot him a threatening look.

"Wanna finish that sentence?" I challenged, and he vehemently shook his head, avoiding my gaze.

"Thought so," I said, urging my horse to pick up the pace.

"Hey," Eld's unexpected voice sounded next to me. I hadn't even realized he was riding alongside.

"Hey,"

"How you feeling?"

"Pretty good. Just want this to be over. What about you?"

"Same way. Hoping the Titans won't be as active today," Eld shared.

"Same here. Just another one of Hange's theories we have to endure," I chuckled.

"So, uh," Eld's shyness was practically dripping off him. "You ready for the Yule Ball?"

"Ready? Darling, I was born ready," I joked, twirling my hair. "Every year I grace them with my absence. Quite the gift, if you ask me."

"Oh yeah, can't forget last year. Stealing all those bottles of wine was a masterpiece," Eld chuckled.

"Erwin's still recovering from the shock," I replied, feigning innocence.

"Couldn't believe his eyes. It was like magic."

"Hey, shithead."

Levi's glare pierced through the conversation. "You better not pull the same stunt this year," he warned.

"Pull the same stunt?" I widened my eyes in mock horror. "Levi, dear, that would be so last season. I'm the trendsetter, not a copycat."

Levi's smirk grew as he glanced behind me. The amusement on his face grew by the second. His devilish smize said everything. I made the mistake turning around to see Erwin on his ivory stallion, trotting right behind me.

"Commander!" I greeted, overemphasizing my surprise. "What a delightful surprise, catching you out and about."

"Likewise," Erwin replied, amusement in his eyes. "I thought you might be hidden away, skipping our expedition today to nurse a secret stash of stolen wine."

"Me? Never," I gasped dramatically. "I'm a model of sobriety. A paragon of virtue."

"Really?" Erwin raised an eyebrow. "Not what a heard a minute ago. I recall you were admitting to all your dirty tricks from last year."

"A magician never reveals her secrets, Commander," I quipped, punctuating it with a wink. "Wouldn't want to ruin the mystique."

"Well, good for you. I need entertainment for this year's ball. I expect our lovely magician and her traveling circus all in attendance," Erwin grinned.

"Oh, sir, I have stable duty that night. Can't be missing out on the thrilling world of manure management," I teased, batting my eyelashes.

"We both know that's not your type of labor," Erwin chuckled as he rode off.

"Nice going, Iris. Looks like you've just gifted us all a mandatory ticket to the ball," Levi grumbled, riding next to me.

"Yeah, thanks a bunch," Oluo complained.

"If you don't shut up," I retorted, "we both know you were only going for the booze and the chance to impress some poor soul."

"I think it'll be nice," Petra chimed in. "Seeing everyone dressed up and fancy. It'll be a good squad bonding experience."

"Iris in a dress?" Oluo laughed. "Now that's a sight I don't want to see."

"Bozado, if you don't-."

"Enough," Levi groaned at us. "Focus on the task at hand. We've got Titans to deal with, not some stupid ball."

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The wind howled, biting through layers of clothing while Oluo complained about the biting cold as it echoed into the desolate landscape.

"How much are you going to bitch?" I asked him rolling my eyes.

The frigid air seemed to freeze my words as soon as they left my mouth. I couldn't feel the tip of my nose or my ears, and my hands struggled to maintain their grip on the horse's reins.

"Enough," Levi groaned, his annoyance evident in every line of his face.

"Guys, stop," Petra attempted to mediate. "It'll be over soon."

One would assume Petra was Levi's second in command the way she attempts to keep the peace between us all. She's always there for him, attempting to make things stress free for him.

"It's not like we've seen any Titans," Gunther chimed in, breaking his silence.

"True," Levi conceded, his eyes scanning the barren surroundings.

"Hey, four-eyes!" Levi's voice cut through the cold air. "Wrap it up."

"Negative," Hange retorted, excitement evident in their voice. They looked everywhere around them as they trotted around on their dusky dark horse.

"We still have tons of time left. Right, Commander?"

I couldn't care less about catching titans. The whole situation was a headache, and I wanted those giant pests dead as much as anyone else. The bickering between the scouts only added to the chaos, but I'd endure it to keep Hange content. There was a certain level of respect I held for that lunatic.

Amidst the arguments, I found solace in the winter beauty of Wall Maria. The blanket of snow concealed the scars of the past, hiding the devastation that had scarred this place. My pale steed carried me away from the noise, into the serene white wonderland.

The wind howled, a symphony of nature's fury against my ears, yet the peace I sought remained elusive. Within the walls of Maria, echoing footsteps reverberated against the concrete structures. I watched as the snow cascaded off rooftops, the sound growing louder.

Where is the ugly bastard?

Frantically, I searched for my flare gun but it was nowhere to be found. The landscape blurred as my steed carried me, and I strained to see the others.

Did I wander that far?

And then, there it was – the monstrous figure, mindlessly wandering through the ruins of what was once a thriving town. A bitter reminder of the world we lived in, where homes turned into graves and streets into stomping grounds.

It ran mindlessly, limbs flailing as it collided with anything in its path. With a swift motion, I tore off my winter coat, spinning my gear toward the nearest building.

I have to get that fucker before it catches the others off guard. Who knows if they are paying attention right now.

My sprint across the rooftops quickened, but the snow beneath my feet threatened to slow me down.

"Abnormal in the west entrance!" I screamed, my voice cutting through the icy air, adrenaline surging through my veins. The abnormal titan loomed, fifteen meters of grotesque menace, flanked by two others measuring seven meters each.

I shot my hooks into the withering clock tower, hurtling through the sky toward the repulsive creature. Blades clashed together as I executed a mid-air flip, the hot liquid of Titan blood splattering over my freezing form. The Titan beneath me began to crumble, but time wasn't on my side, not with the other two mindless freaks closing in.

My hook shot out, aiming for a smooth ascent, but it snagged on a layer of ice. For a moment, it granted me a fleeting lift, only to betray me as the frozen surface crumbled beneath, leaving me stumbling against the wall like some chew toy for the lurking monsters.

"Friggin' hell!"

The sting of pain spread throughout my body. Breathing became a laborious task, and an all-too-familiar ache, long dormant, rekindled with a vengeance.

"Damn it all!" I shouted, hitting the floor, each impact aggravating the throbbing pain. Lifting my head, frustration bubbled within me as I found myself surrounded by three towering seven-meter Titans.

I can handle these bastards, it's my own body I'm not so sure about.

Getting back on my feet proved to be a torturous endeavor, compounded by the challenge of fixing my ODM gear after that disastrous fall. The relentless cold added another layer of difficulty to the entire ordeal.

I attempted to shoot out my hooks, only to find my gear jammed by the fall. Whirls of ODM gear spun above me as I backed against the wall, frustration boiling over.

"Come on, you piece of junk!" I muttered, wrestling with the stubborn machinery. The Titans loomed, and my irritation skyrocketed.

I watched, jaw clenched, as they closed in. In a burst of desperate energy, I pushed myself away from the wall, my blades glinting in the harsh light against the backdrop of the encroaching Titans.

Yet, before I could make a move, a shadow darted past, a blur of blades and precision. In a seamless dance, they sliced through all three Titans' napes. The achievement appeared effortless to them, and for that person, it quite literally was. He stood triumphantly on the back of the last Titan as it crumbled, a silent savior amidst the chaos.

"Hey, shithead!" Levi's voice sliced through the frosty air.

"What's grinding your gears, Grumpy?" I shot back, reveling in the opportunity to add some spice to the icy atmosphere.

He closed the gap between us, that signature scowl etched across his face as he scanned me from head to toe.

"Tch," he uttered, as if his own standards were offended.

Without a word, he tossed a handkerchief my way, and I made a show of cleaning up the remaining Titan blood on my face, all while locking eyes with him.

"Why'd you decide to go off on your own?" he grilled me, irritation simmering beneath his words.

"The bickering was giving me a headache," I quipped, shrugging off his concern with my usual nonchalance.

"You could've died," he growled, his voice carrying an unmistakable edge of anger.

"Yeah, yeah, we've danced this dance before," I retorted, meeting his gaze without flinching.

"Where's your jacket?" he demanded, scrutinizing my lack of proper winter attire.

"With my horse," I informed him, fully aware of the disapproval in his eyes.

Levi shrugged off his own winter coat and draped it over my shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold," he muttered, a gruffness in his tone that almost passed for concern.

"I'll survive. You're the one risking pneumonia," I countered, attempting to hand the coat back, but he walked away before I could complete the transaction.

"Where's your horse? We're leaving." he declared, his orders ringing out in the frigid air. I followed him, smirking at the thought of Grumpy Levi catching a cold.

I think it's best not to mention my injury.

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dalamjisung · 1 year

Text

Matching Set Masterlist

college!AU

popular!jeongin x introvert!reader

summary: Y/N and Jeongin had been together since birth. Seriously since birth– their mothers were best friends and while hanging out to complain about their never ending pregnancy, bam. Rumor has it that Y/N took a little while to cry, blinking around for a couple of minutes until the gentlest of screams came out of her tiny body. Only later, when the parents got together to congratulate each other, did the mothers found out that Jeongin had been born five minutes before Y/N, and it seemed that her quietness had been her own early way to wait for who would later be her best friend. And as if sharing a birthday wasn’t enough, these two had to share everything else; from their lunch at school to the bed they slept on. Thankfully, as next door neighbors, the trip was minimal.

It continued like this for decades to come, through middle school, high school, and finally, college. Their applications were sent together and their letters came in the same day. Miraculously, they chose different degrees, and for an entire night, Y/N cried to her mom about losing her best friend. Maybe this will be a good experience for you two, she laughed, petting her daughter’s head. But Y/N just couldn’t see a positive side to being without her Innie. Later, they would make a pact– one that vowed to always be there for each other. And he looked so earnest and honest that Y/N just couldn’t understand where that nagging doubt tugging on her heart was coming from…

What happens when these two experience freedom like nothing they’ve ever seen? And what will be of the matching set when they are put apart? Can the lifelong friendship survive the ultimate test of time– college?

update schedule: Every Sunday :D

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🌚 chapter one: hyung I’m suing you

🌝 chapter two: fellow clowns

🌚 chapter three: what bothers you, my little freeloader?

🌝 chapter four: forgiven but not forgotten

🌚 chapter five: she doesn’t need me anymore

🌝 chapter six: Mandatory Movie Marathon™️

🌚 chapter seven: delayed reactions

🌝 chapter eight: no turning back

🌚 chapter nine: things are about to change

🌝 chapter ten: another case of innie being innie

🌚 chapter eleven: see you then

🌝 chapter twelve: it’s a date

🌚 chapter thirteen: we need to talk about yesterday

🌝 chapter fourteen

🌚 chapter fifteen

🌝 chapter sixteen

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hi lovelies! I know I have been a bit gone from the fake text scene, but I’ve been working on this for a bit now, and I am really, really excited to share this new story with you all! Han’s story will be going into HIATUS as I’m trying to sort the overall plot and details and will be reworking it after I get my muse back fro Rhythm & Rhyme. Also: there are timeline plot-holes and for that I apologize! Because it’s been a while since I wrote these, there was a mixup with the timeline of all the following stories, so truly, I am sorry-- I’ll do my best to keep everything together neat and tight! Thank you for your love and constant support!

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO GET TAGGED FOR THE RELEASE OF MATCHING SET PLEASE LET ME KNOW AND I’LL START A TAGLIST!

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tgmsunmontue · 4 days

Text

More than movie magic... 22/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE

CHAPTER TWENTYTWO

They’re silent with one another and Jake doesn’t know how to break the quiet. Doesn’t particularly want to break the quiet, not to rake through his relationship history, although he knows it’s a topic usually covered during a date. Except all their dates have either been around his parent’s dining room table, or in the barn, which definitely wasn’t conducive to conversation. He looks up from where he’s leaving his boots to see Bradley stripping off his shirt, but then pulling on a loose soft-looking shirt.

“Wh – what are you doing?”

“Changing into something more comfortable. Figure if I’m going to feel uncomfortable internally the least I can do is be comfortable externally.”

“Oh. Huh. Okay.”

“Feel free to join me, looks like you’ve got more clothes here now…”

Bradley then proceeds to shut the blinds, casting the entire space into a dim half-light, the setting sun making it feel warm and Jake strips down to his underwear, not really wanting to put anything else on and he’s comfortable in his own skin.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with… Come here…”

He crawls into bed, let’s Bradley wrap his arms around him, body pressing along the length of his back and legs.

“Figure it might be easier to not be looking at each other for this.”

Jake’s stomach squirms with unease.

“That bad?”

“No. Not really. I don’t have a dark shady past, or a pile of angry exes. I do have… well. One isn’t even a relationship, but it’s definitely the reason Pete jumped on a plane. Then there’s a very ill-advised relationship, which probably doesn’t help the whole thing, but they’re both over ten years ago. Pete is just… overly dramatic.”

“Oh.”

“You want me to just lay it all out?”

“Yeah, like ripping off a Band-Aid right? You said that we should talk. About what has Pete and Tom flying out here. About… why my mom thinks she needs to play matchmaker.”

He can feel Bradley’s breath, warm against his neck, forces himself to relax, that this is a sharing of information, that neither of them are looking for reasons to not be together, just maybe, hopefully, understand each other’s families a little better, because apparently they each have their own brand of crazy.

“So… interesting that your mum wants to play matchmaker, because the two times Pete tried to match me with people it ended in divorce and a restraining order respectively.”

“What the fuck?” Jake asks, trying to twist to look Bradley in the eye, see if he’s joking, but Bradley is holding him tight, throwing a leg over Jake’s thighs and he realizes he’s effectively being pinned. Knowing Bradley he’s probably got a fucking black belt in some obscure martial art. He forces himself to relax.

“So, what? Do they think you need protecting? From me?”

“No. Just… Pete matched me with both people and it ended in disaster. So despite him joking about third time lucky, he hasn’t ever tried again. Gone too hard in the other direction. He second guesses when he thinks someone might be good for me. The fact that he didn’t ever try and introduce us when he was working with you, that he brought Tom to meet you… that’s him second guessing the fact that he likes you.”

“Tell me what happened?”

“So,” Bradley sucks in a big breath and he feels it brush past his neck and he shivers involuntarily. “Obviously if I’m divorced I’ve been married before.” Jake doesn’t bother saying anything, figures Bradley is trying to get his thoughts in order. “He, Pete, introduced me to my ex-wife, which, is something of a mindfuck to have to explain when you figure out you’re gay. It was very short-lived. Like. A couple of days. I was young. Nineteen. It was in Vegas, which is a cliché, but she thought she could make a quick jump into Hollywood when she found out exactly who Pete and Tom were to me. We could have been friends probably, but she just went a little… power hungry. Um. She drugged me. Needless to say I ended up pressing criminal charges and getting an annulment.”

“Oh shit,” Jake says, because he’s starting to feel like his dating history is nothing compared with this. It actually makes him feel a little better.

“I mean, hindsight is great, I did nothing wrong, but… this happened over fifteen years ago. I got therapy. Pete didn’t, but probably should have. Then I figured some shit out, came out, and then Pete introduced me to someone else…”

Silence pools between them and Jake waits, feels Bradley shift against him slightly and the softest of kisses pressed between his neck and shoulder.

“The second person, a guy, he was a little controlling… Ugh. He was emotionally abusive. I was still young, didn’t really think his requests were too much. Until they started to be. Again, Pete had introduced us. I thought it was normal. It’s not like I grew up seeing a lot of healthy balanced relationships, but I did eventually figure out it wasn’t right. Anyway. Broke up with him, he tried to become even more controlling and hence the restraining order. He lives in New York now, and Tom made his life very difficult before that move. So… I took a break from dating, or any relationships, for about two years.”

“Oh.”

“Yep. Since then I’ve had three relationships, two of those were good and ended amicably and I’m still friendly with them. The other didn’t end so well, they cheated on me. I’m away for work a lot apparently. Anyway, guess which one of those three Pete liked the most?”

“The cheater,” Jake sighs, not sure who to feel worse for.

“Yep. Three for three. So… yeah. Pete’s happy for me. But he’ll also be second guessing everything he’s ever thought about you. So try not to take it too personally if he blows hot and cold for a while.”

“Oh. Tom said something earlier… about hearing a lot about me from Pete.”

“Yeah, that’s probably right.” Jake hums under his breath, not sure what to think. He’s only been with Bradley a matter of days. “Tom will make up his own mind. But yeah, there you go… once Pete comes to grips with the fact that him liking my boyfriend doesn’t end up cursing the relationship he’ll be fine.”

Jake can’t help the snort of amusement.

“God that is so dramatic.”

“Well, takes one to know one right?”

“Hey!” Jake objects, and he can feel Bradley’s smile against his shoulder, his body shaking with quiet laughter, and god it feels good, despite the seriousness of the conversation, to still be close and laughing together. “I get family wanting to protect you though.”

“Hmm. See I think of it as family not trusting me to make my own decisions. Everything else was so long ago.”

“I guess. Nice to know they care about you so much they drop everything and fly across the country to double check anyway.”

“Dramatic,” Bradley says, voice deadpan and Jake laughs, but his gut is churning, knows it’s his turn now to share the details of his own past failed relationships and he doesn’t have people wanting to use him and his connections, or control him or even people that have cheated on him… He’s just failed every single one of them in different ways and he doesn’t want to fail Bradley.

“You okay?” Bradley asks, his voice a whisper against the shell of his ear and Jake just wants to curl in upon himself and hide away for a bit longer.

“I… I’m not good at relationships.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I’m just, I’m not good enough,” Jake says, and he thinks Bradley was right in doing this with the blinds pulled, no lights, the darkness slowly covering them like a quiet blanket and allowing them to feel less exposed. “I thought I’d found my person. You know when you think you’ve found them and you plan your life out, and then… it’s all pulled out from under you?”

Bradley doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, just hums encouragingly and hugs him a little tighter and he takes a couple of slow deep breaths.

“My high school girlfriend left me. We’d been together for eight years. Said she didn’t sign up to be famous. Didn’t want to have to deal with the hate mail, or the fans… It was horrible. She was a big part of my life. My family loved her. I’d picked out a ring. So yeah, the pressure and attention, it was just too much for her. And I thought, okay, I’ll date people who are also in the public eye, but…”

“You’re a country boy at heart.”

Jake laughs but doesn’t disagree.

“I’m not… I.” Jake pauses. “I’m not used to being the more interested party. Person. I’m used to people asking me out.”

“Pretty sure we asked each other out…”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Jake asks, feels Bradley give him another squeeze and he smiles into the dark, presses back against his body and squeezes his forearm where it rests across his stomach.

“Yep, definitely reciprocal asking each other out. Anyone else you want to tell me about?”

He sighs, because there are only two others, anyone that he didn’t bring back to meet his parents isn’t worth mentioning. Wasn’t around long enough for Jake to feel emotionally invested enough to bring them home to meet his family and see where he grew up. It’s dawning on him that he’s sort of done things a bit backwards with Bradley, and that might be the best thing he’s ever done.

“I dated Gabriel for three years. He was great. Lovely and sweet. He wasn’t ashamed of being with me. Our life together in Hollywood was great. We had a lot of similar interests and our friend circles overlapped. He met my family and it was fine. Then we came home to visit, he seemed to like it here; couldn’t ride, but that was okay. I don’t care about that, even if my mom seems to think it’s a prerequisite. He was learning, wanted to learn. What wasn’t okay was every time my parents or one of my siblings would walk in on us, he’d jump away from me, like he wasn’t allowed to touch me without their permission. Even if we were just sitting side by side.”

“What?”

“I know. It was fine when we were around friends, in LA, but he just got so keyed up around my family. So the visit home was the beginning of the end and he broke up with me about six months after.”

“That sounds like a him problem, if he had issues being affectionate with you in front of your family. It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t on you to fix his issues. Did you talk to him about it?”

“I tried,” Jake says. “I tried to not let it bother me as well.”

“Did he try?”

Jake is about to say yes, of course, but then thinks about it, because Gabriel hadn’t been one to face his own flaws or consider self-improvement, unless it would have made him look better. They’d left the ranch early to return to LA, cutting their vacation short, but Gabriel had made a comment about it not being much of a vacation anyway.

“No… I guess he didn’t.”

“His loss,” Bradley says, whispers and Jake swallows against the welling up emotion, because he doesn’t feel like he’s a treasure worth keeping, not usually, but Bradley is definitely making him think that maybe he is.

“Then there’s Alicia. My last girlfriend. She is terrified of horses, hated seeing me ride. My mom was glad to see the back of her. She never said she didn’t like her, but she was always so polite it was almost frosty with it.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. She made you do the dishes. That was her way of subtly screaming that she already considers you family.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Your parents were checking I was up to scratch…”

“Yeah. Apparently. Mom doesn’t like the glossy façade people put on in LA. Dad even less so. They both like you.”

“Jake… did you plan this whole movie just so you could get me to meet your family and ask me out?”

“No!”

“I mean, I’m okay with it if you did. It’s one hell of a gesture.”

“No. I didn’t. Not consciously, anyway,” Jake mutters.

“Well, either way, I’m here and I like it. Especially with you.”

“Yeah. Feels too good to be true though doesn’t it? A little bit?”

“Nope. There’s enough bad shit going on that I don’t need to go second guessing what feels like something good. Something amazing.”

“Oh,” Jake says to the room, the word quiet on his exhale and he feels Bradley’s arm tighten around him again.

“I am going to tell you every day that you’re too good to be true until you believe me…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can be very persuasive.”

“I bet you can,” Jake says, and this time when he tries to turn to face Bradley he’s allowed to shift, face him and take his lips with his own until he can no longer tell where his body ends and Bradley’s begins.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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novankenn · 5 months

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Things Best left ... ALONE

"It is a new initiative, started just this year. No longer is Beacon going to be setting up four-person teams. Instead pairs of partners will be randomly matched for missions and team exercises. The hope is to train more rounded and flexible huntsmen and huntresses." - Ozpin

Pyrrha Nikos, four-time Mistralian Tournament Champion, and media darling was the odd one out. She had enrolled in Beacon in the hope to escape the hero worship and preferential treatment she was constantly receiving. However her fame followed her, and because of an odd number of applicants... she was without a partner.

(Images generated by perchance ai text-to-image)

Feeling isolated, and alone she sought refuge in labyrinth of shelves that made up the Beacon library. It was there deep in the stacks, she discovered... something... something that would change her life.

Though only time would tell if it would be for the better or worse.

--== Chapters ==--

ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR - FIVE - SIX - SEVEN - EIGHT - NINE - TEN - ELEVEN - TWELVE - THIRTEEN - FOURTEEN - FIFTEEN -

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #pyrrha has no partner #jaune is a fae #horror themed #alternate universe #Beacon has no 4 person teams 1st year teams #ai generated illustrations

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i-smoke-chapstick · 9 days

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'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART SIX]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Reader and Lee get tied up in a revenge plot.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Is reader really young and naive, or is she just young and angry? Lack of Jervis in this one, I apologize. I love Lee and Readers dynamic. The slow burn is slow burning. She fell first, he fell harder. More of reader dissociating. AU where The Ogre's still alive. Reader and Lee being mortal frenemies. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Small time skip. Reader continues to reference Jervis as "Mr. Tetch." Just you guys wait...they'll get there. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom @sweetlimeharvest

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - 'PART FIVE, - 'PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE,

♫ “I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Nothing seems real anymore.

You'd heard of the crazies running around in Gotham. Whether that was from your father, mindlessly ranting over a stack of police files. Or your mother, who frequently talked to said crazies on a daily basis.

Prior to Mr. Tetch, you'd only ever dealt with one first hand. At least, one that was actively trying to murder your family. And that was none other than Jason Skolimski. The Ogre. You feel your body involuntarily shake when you even think about him.

You're unsure what happened to him, exactly. You were just thirteen when everything got turned on its head. But you do know one thing. His body was shipped to Indian Hill. Your mother and father never mention it. You wonder if your mother ever thinks about it. The small possibility...that man could still be alive.

She'd probably thank him. It was because of him that she embraced her "true self".

You bite your lip, lost in your head. Somethings been missing ever since Mr. Tetch turned out to be...whatever he is. Ever since he left, Tabitha’s seemed happy. Your mom hasn’t. Appearently his hypnotism act was attracting a bunch of publicity to the club.

You should've been thankful, like Tabitha. Good riddance. That should've been the end of it. But you had begged Jim to take you to the GCPD, to ask Alice questions. You needed answers. More than he did.

You always hated the GCPD. The last time you went to the department, you were young and naive. It was ‘take your child to work day.’ You watched a serial cannibal try to bite Harvey Bullock's finger off. Tale as old as time.

It didn't matter, regardless. Jim didn't let you go again. You remember the vague shouting match between you two. Good thing, maybe. Judging by the fact Mr. Tetch hypnotized a family of strongmen to kill everyone in the place. And then Alice impaled herself on a pole. All in the papers.

What does it matter? You're not sure why you let the whole situation get under your skin.

A few dreams, a few encounters, a few shared looks. You find yourself scoffing at your own blind idiocy. Maybe you are still young and naive.

You've been taking your rightful place at the bar, next to Butch. You two have been tossing back shots of tequila, mindlessly ranting at the same time to one another. Again, there’s comfort in knowing you both want to speak to someone that you can’t have.

"I don't understand. She doesn't even look at me anymore. I mean, she just looks at Barbara. Sorry, I know she's your mom, or whatever."

"Don't apologize. I don't understand either. Where the hell even is he?"

"Your dad?" Butch furrows his eyebrows.

No, you think. Mr. Tetch. You don't vocalize that though. You lie with a nod.

Maybe the alcohol caught up to you. You should've known better. Day-drinking never ends well. You cringe, remembering Harvey slurring his words, knocking on your dads apartment door. Either way, you aren't in control of your own body. Before you know it, you're leaving the club, tossing a wad of cash to Butch. He wolf whistles and takes it gladly.

You're just walking down the street. Maybe drunkenly. Kicking loose pebbles on the sidewalk, swinging around streetlamps. You'd expect a weird look or two from bystanders. But you realize no ones on the street except for you.

It's Gotham. You should be more concerned by the fact your alone. But it's broad daylight. Surely nothing could go wrong-

Before the thought can be fully thought out, a pair of arms grabs you from behind. You find yourself kicking and screaming, being dragged by a heavy-set man. Yay.

Huffing through the set of hands over your mouth, you're shoved into a trunk, light significantly dimming as it's closed. You hear the lock click, and you stop fussing. Attempting to calm yourself, you search your pockets for your phone. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Your mom is a crime lord. Your dad is a cop, or rather, was one. You'll be fine.

You can't seem to find your phone in your pockets though. You feel your heartrate speed as you frantically start to search. The bar. You left it at the fucking bar. Nice fucking job Y/N. You definitely wouldn't survive in a horror movie.

You give up. You're defeated. Maybe they'll be a pair of nice human traffickers. Take pity on you. You sigh and throw your head back for the rest of the car ride. Squeezing your eyes shut, you manage to accept whatever fate is in store for you.

You had a good run, champ. A voice that sounds an awful lot like your fathers praises in the back of your mind.

Like a ragdoll, you're roughly placed on the floor. Eyes still trying to get used to the bright light, you feel both dizzy and discombobulated. Your head is pounding from any alcohol you had prior. Picked a great day to drink.

Blinking wildly, the first thing you manage to digest is being chained to a bathtub.

"Y/N?" A voice asks, and your eyes snap up. Staring wide eyed at you, just tied up as you are, is Lee Thompkins.

A million thoughts rush through your head. The first one you promptly register is what is this bitch doing here?

"Lee?" You mumble. You think this might be a hallucination, but if you were going to hallucinate someone, it wouldn't be her.

You two stare at each other for a moment. Tense, awkward. The last time you saw her was when your father witnessed her having moved on. You still remember the feeling, standing on your tiptoes to look through a window. Seeing your fathers heart break before your eyes.

You never really talked to her. She always tried to talk to you though. A lot. Too much. But she could never be the Barbara you used to know. No matter how hard she tried.

"What the fuck is going on?" You whisper yell. Lee looks at you, swallowing.

"Tetch blames Jim for Alice, and we're his means for revenge."

At the mention of his name, your blood runs cold. You didn't expect to ever see him again. Let alone see Lee. You watch, petrified, as Lee fidgets around through the bathroom cabinet.

For the most part the room is silent, other than the clanking of items being searched through.

"Leave it." Is all you say, watching her look uncontrollably for something to pick the lock. She sighs.

"You expect me to just sit here and die?"

"Yes." You hiss. She doesn’t turn to look at you, but you can imagine her face, disappointed and irritated. You don't care. You get mean when you're nervous.

"…It's not my fault. Jim is who he is, Y/N. I can't change that. Neither can you."

The truth stings harder coming from her of all people.

"Oh, give yourself some credit, Ms. Thompkins," You say the name snappish. "Without you, I hardly doubt we'd be in this mess."

That makes her perk up. Her nostrils flare, and the clanking sounds louder.

"You don't seriously blame me for this?" She still doesn't make eye contact with you, but she motions wildly to the locks on your ankles. You give a nonchalant, bitter shrug.

"If you didn't leave him, he wouldn't have become a bountyhunter."

"You don't know that." Her eyes soften in hurt. It fuels you.

"No. But I know you're a whore." The words escape your mouth before you internalize them. There's a long beat of silence before she finally turns to look at you, still sitting on the ground. She huffs.

"Maybe you're just really scared and this is your way of coping," She starts, "Or maybe you're just insanely committed to taking care of your father. Either way, all I'm interested in is getting out of here."

You look at each other with a mutual mix of regret.

"Try a cuticle pusher." You finally say, smiling humorlessly. "My dad's was a cop, after all. Taught me how to pick locks. I can walk you through it."

She nods. You nod. It's not the same feeling of understanding you get when talking with Butch. But...it's not too far off either.

"You really are his daughter." She sighs, snatching a cuticle pusher up from the counter.

"Thanks."

"It's not a compliment."

"Remember you have to-"

"I got it." Lee cuts you off, fiddling with the lock. You put your hands up in mock defense. At least your humors returning back to you.

"Can I ask you something?" You start off, slow. She glances at you for a moment, before returning to her chains.

"As long as it's not about why I left your dad." She mutters.

"Not exactly," You pause, looking for the right words to say. "Why did you return to Gotham? You looked all cozy down south."

"It's really none of your business."

You let out a loud scoff at that.

"You were ready to become my stepmother less than a year ago," You continue. At this, her movements falter. "You could've chosen any city. Any job. But you chose Gotham."

"You realize we both might die today, right?"

"Yes. And I don't want to die not knowing why you left us, just to come back and dangle it in front of my dad."

Her movements stop completley.

"I didn't come here for James Gordon." She's firm in her stance. In one last fluid moment, the lock unclicks before our eyes. She heaves a small sigh of relief.

She offers you the cuticle pusher. You take it. About three seconds in, it breaks. Shit.

Not the worst fate in the world, you think. You'd be able to see Mr. Tetch again. Ask him all the unanswered questions. That is, if he doesn't immediately kill you. Maybe you’re a fool to think a part of him enjoyed your company.

"You can still escape." You nod to Lee, hopeful she'll leave, hopeful she'll stay. With what you said to her earlier, you wouldn't blame her.

"I'm not leaving you here," She speaks. Her tone is gentle. Somewhat motherly. The sentiment actually makes guilt bubble up inside you. "There's got to be something else."

Looking around the room madly, you two are interrupted in your searching's.

"My, my," A voice drawls. You know that voice. "You two have been busy."

There he is.

Jervis stands tall, looking down at the both of you. You meet his gaze. For the first time in quite awhile, that feeling of electricity shoots through you again. You want to tear yourself apart. Find whatever part of your brain is fascinated with the idea of this man. Cut it out of you, examine it, and throw it away.

"Now, if you'd kindly join me in the dining room?" He speaks. You notice his eyes are focused solely on you, effectively ignoring Lee. He still looks relatively angry though.

Despite his demeanor, he offers you a hand to help you up. Lee watches his movements. You take his arm without question. That seems to spark something in his eyes. In Lee's eyes, too.

...You're unsure if that's a good or bad sign.

#gotham #x reader #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #dc comics #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch #the mad hatter x reader #fic series #dc mad hatter #gotham jervis tetch #gotham mad hatter #jervis tetch imagine #gotham jervis

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smok3r7 · 5 months

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Latching On To You

Joel Miller x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Chapter Five: Starting Over

Series Masterlist & Main Masterlist - My Ao3

Series summary: What happens when, after thirteen loving years of being with Joel, you start to feel like he’s slipping away from your grasp? How much of yourself will you lose because of the trauma your father put you through at such a young age? You could be wrong about Joel, but something is telling you otherwise - or are you just not healed enough to see past your own insecurities?

Chapter summary: The aftermath of your horrific accident has come around, and you are honestly doing well. You have slowly started to live your normal life again - with some new changes. Joel and you want to switch around some things, so you can finally move on together.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: slight age difference (35/40), No use of y/n, no outbreak AU, no Sarah AU, tiny angst , slight self sabotage thoughts, rooms holding negative memories, hospital check up, major fluff

~Finally babes, here’s the last piece of ‘Latching On To You’! Thank you all for the support and kind words, this is my first piece of work and I’m happy with how it went! I hope you guys enjoy this and stick around for my next one🩷

—

It’s been over two months since the night of the bar, you and Joel have worked through the misunderstanding and the fight you had. Your nightmares have stopped completely, the first three weeks you had them every night. Your nights consisted of waking up out of dead sleep from the feeling of that man behind you, Joel would comfort and hold you every single time, and sometimes it put you straight back to bed or lead into sex - but you had to be in control or at least not as submissive as you used to be.

You hated yourself for getting into that mess of a situation - so now you initiate, you dirty talk, you order him around ; you’re the one in charge.

You went back to work a month after, you were thrilled to be back at work, you missed being able to push yourself towards something. Mr.Delgato had ordered for you to stay home and heal, you told him you could come back but he demanded you take time off. Whereas Joel’s job wouldn’t give him any time off, which he was pissed about, so he ended up just taking all his sick days, which he never used so he had accumulated three weeks worth - and he used them all to be home with you.

—

“I can go pick it up after my appointment!” You yell to the bedroom as you get ready for your Doctor's appointment. This was your last checkup, just to make sure that everything was all cleared up, you had suffered a severe concussion that resulted in some minor brain injuries but since it involved your head, the doctors wanted to be extra cautious. “Darlin’, no,” Joel’s deep voice comes closer as he appears from around the corner and leans on the wall, “Cause I’m gonna grab it while you’re gone.”

You two decided to change up the patio - well, you asked to switch it up because you hated the memories it brought back of your fight and Joel was so happy to do it for you - he honestly felt the same way, but he won’t worry you about it. The way his stomach churns every time he steps out back to smoke or be by the fire, makes him want to throw up and scream at the same time. So when you begged him to get new furniture, he was ecstatic because this meant you wanted to stay and try again.

After looking online for new furniture, you fell in love with a beautiful black wicker set that included a couch that seats five people, a square wicker table with a massive glass top shaped as a circle and two chairs to match. There was also a saucer swing that hangs from a tree that matched the wicker, but it was in white - you ended up buying that too, it was on sale anyways.

“But I wanna go get it.” You pout as you turn towards him and he just chuckles at you, “Okay, how about this. Either I’ll go with you to your appointment and we’ll pick it up on the way home or you can come home then we go together.” You smile, the fact that he came up with two solutions in the matter of seconds and he has no problem with either of them is honestly enough for you to fall in love with him all over again.

You do one more look in the mirror, fixing your hair you state, “If you’re ready to go in five minutes, you can come with me.” You take a few steps so you’re in front of him and you kiss his soft lips with a grin, “I’ll meet you downstairs.” Is all he breathes out, you nod, collect your purse sitting on the bed, and strut your hips to the hallway.

A smile spreads across your face as you reach the first floor and turn towards the kitchen, you’re so happy that you have Joel back, the Joel you fell in love with. The one who comes home and devotes his time to you, even if he doesn’t quite love whatever you’re doing - he just wants to make you happy. You grab the loaf of bread on the counter and put two pieces in the toaster, you then spin around on your heels and open the fridge to grab the butter. You wanted to eat a little something before you guys left the house for the day, the last time you didn’t eat you had gotten the worst headache and hated yourself for not eating.

The toaster dings and pops the toasted bread out, your body jumps from the sudden noise, “Jumpy today?” Joel speaks from across the island in between you guys, your head pops up to look at him. “Toaster scared me.” You laugh at yourself as you start to lather butter on the pieces of bread, Joel struts around the corner of the counter and grabs your hips to turn and make you face him. You lift your head and take a minute to gaze at his features that you love so much.

His eyes staring at you with complete ease yet yearning to help you. The creases along his face curve in a way that captures your attention, they tell the stories he has been through and they also show how he’s human with emotions. The grays throughout his thicker brown beard reminds you that you’re growing older together, you adore that thought. His lips are plump but soft, a red tint glows from them and it makes your heart warm at how delicate he looks.

“I’m okay baby, thank you.” You whisper softly as you set your hands on both his biceps and squeeze your fingers into his skin, softly but with enough pressure to draw his attention. Still holding your hips he responds, “Of course, now let’s head out - eat your toast on the way.” He’s then grabbing your hand and dragging you to the front door, you snag your purse off the counter with your hand full of toast and you just giggle away.

—

“Well it looks like all your tests came back looking great, your recovery has been absolutely amazing. It’s not everyday someone bounces back from an injury like this, especially this fast.” Dr.Robert explained as he glanced between his clipboard and your face as he continued, “If you don’t have any concerns or questions, I would say that you are all set here and you are in the clear!” Joel is holding your hands and he’s squeezing them which makes you turn your attention to him as tears fill your eyes from pure joy. You make eye contact with his chocolate chip eyes which are filled with relief and then you quickly snap your head back to the doctor. “No, I believe we’re all set, thank you. For everything.” Your voice cracks from the sobs just waiting to break out of your mouth.

Dr.Robert smiles genuinely and remarks, “My pleasure my dear. Just please be extra cautious about your surroundings, don’t want this to happen to you again.” You nod your head as you bite your lip to stop the sounds threatening to escape, Joel quickly announces, “Thank you for making sure my girl was healthy, like really, thank you.” He stands up with the doctor and reaches his hand out to shake it, Dr.Robert takes Joel’s hand in a firm shake and says, “Of course, now it’s your turn.” You and Joel both knew the doctor was referring to him saving you no matter what. Joel grunts in agreement and Dr.Robert does his final goodbyes, you finally can break down from the situation.

Like a faucet, the tears began to flow down your face, but from relief. You had been terrified that something was gonna go wrong, just because that always seems to happen to you. After hearing him say you were in the clear, it was like you could breathe without feeling like you were being choked. “Come here sweetheart,” Joel coo’s as he stands in between your legs and latches his arms around your shoulders, you sitting on the patient table makes you the same height as Joel. “Let it all go, I’m right here, always will be.” He continues into your ear as you bawl your eyes out into his shoulder, snot and tears soak his shirt sleeve, Joel doesn’t care in the slightest.

—

After about ten minutes of you both crying and sniffling on each other, you got yourself together and you two were off to pick up your new furniture. “God I cannot wait to put the patio together.” You express as the warm air flies in from your window rolled down half way, Joel has a hand on your thigh and goes, “You picked out some pretty neat thing’s darlin’. I’m excited to see you make it how you want.” You turn to look at him, this man was truly the best, the most understanding, the smartest, and just down right the most kind soul. “I love you Joel Miller.” You state with a hint of southern charm as you lean on the center council and stare at him.

He comes up to a stop sign, how convenient, the truck comes to a stop and he looks at you with a face that says “She finally fell harder than me”, his hands leave their previous spot and they find a new location on your cheeks. His lips crash into yours suddenly and it makes you groan into his mouth, it’s a steamy yet sweet kiss - it was almost like a “there’s my girl” kind of kiss. “I love you, Mrs.Miller.” He repeats your verbiage with an even deeper southern accent, which makes you smile and giggle into his face. “She’s back.” He said in a hushed tone, still holding you like a delicate flower. “Let’s go get that furniture.” You smile, “Yes Ma’am.”

“Mr. & Mrs. Miller?” The young lady working the register asks with a high pitched voice, you smile and nod your head, “That would be us!” She mutters a small, perfect, and starts to do something on the computer in front of her, Joel is standing beside you just waiting to be told what to do. You start rocking side to side, patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit but you try the best you can. “Looks like your order is ready!” She exclaims, you force a smile, “yeah that’s why we’re here.” The voice in your head remarks, you hated when workers acted like the customer doesn’t know what they’re doing. “If you just want to head out those big doors over to your left, a worker will be there to help bring it to your vehicle.” She exaggerates and points out where to go, you are already walking away from the desk when you tell her, “Thank you so much hun!”

Joel is right behind you chuckling under his breath, you know he’s laughing at how you acted but you can’t help it, it’s just who you are, “I know I’m a bitch, I can’t just stop!” Just about to the doors, Joel gets ahead of you and opens the glass door, “I know. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” The fact that he can still make your heart skip a beat is insane, but you keep yourself together and you smile with your cheeks bright red as you walk through the door to an older man with a Home Depot apron on.

—

“Joel - I can’t see!” You laugh standing in the living room and you feel his hands over your eyes. You two had just ate dinner, Joel had surprised you and made your aunts Lemon Chicken Alfredo Pasta. “That’s the point darlin’. It’s a surprise.” He convinces behind you, he is just full of them today, “So just start walking, I’ll guide you.” You snort because you trust Joel but you are an absolute clutz, “Babe, I’m gonna trip and it’s gonna be my fault not even yours!” You retort into the air, he laughs behind you and tells you to just go, you start to do as told. You take a few steps forward, you have both arms out so they run into something before your face does, “Stop. Don’t open your eyes.” Joel states. You can tell you’re in front of the slider door as he removes a hand to open it, his hand is right back on you.

“Can I go now?” You ask with a playful tone, “Yes, but stop after a couple steps.” You nod as much as you can with his hands on your face, you carefully step out of the house onto the concrete from the back patio. “Okay. I’m gonna let go of you, but keep your eyes closed. I’m gonna count to three and you’re gonna open them!” Joel’s silk voice whispers into your right ear, his warm breath creates goosebumps to appear on your body. “Okay.” You draw out with a smirk appearing, Joel lets go of your eyes and you hear his footsteps move a couple feet in front of you and stop.

You’re playing with cuticles on your fingers, you can’t wait to see how Joel set it up. Sweat is forming on your forehead and neck from the heat and the anticipation flowing through your body. “Alright sweetheart,” Joel’s voice brings you back to life, “One … Two … Three! Open!” You open your eyes and your mouth drops to the ground.

“Holy fuck.” You huff out, your hands shoot up to cover your mouth just from utter shock. “You like it?” Joel questions as you examine the newly reformed patio, all you do is nod your head violently as tears brim your lids. The black wicker couch and the two chairs have white cushions on them, they are seated across each other with the glass top table between the two chairs, and the fire pit is in the middle of it all. A couple feet past the patio, you see the white woven, wicker saucer hanging from the massive branch - it matched exactly how you wanted it too!

“Like it?” You laugh as you turn your attention to him and yell, “I fucking love this Joel!” His face beams with joy after seeing you so happy, you don’t even realize he’s recording your reaction on his phone. You jump into his arms as you wrap your legs around him and he holds you tightly around your waist in a bear hug, “Thank you so much, this is so much better!” You ramble into his neck with random kisses, he laughs softly into your hair.

He then leans back against the wooded post and you both hum with content, the same one he leaned on the night of the fight. But instead of hatred and trauma being the main focus, now, this place holds a new moment, a new memory, one that represents who you two are together. You two picked out the most beautiful wicker set, cleaned up the patio from dirt and leaves, and Joel went all out for you putting them together and creating a beautiful space. These were the new memories, the better ones were waiting to come, this was the beginning to a new start, a little reset never hurt anyone.

You and Joel just hit a pretty big bump and now you two are stronger than before, which almost seemed impossible. You two have a bond now that can never be broken because you know he’s all yours and he knows you’re all his, forever and always - for better or for worse.

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #latching on to you #joel miller series #joel miller fanfic #Joel miller final chapter #i cant believe it

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